#anyways bones music slaps goodnight

[lemonbreelnd]

~ BONES SOUNDTRACK ~ (insp)

#bones #bonesedit #temperance brennan #seeley booth #bonestv #bonescenter #cinematv #filmtv #chewieblog #bbelcher #userseeleybooth #usermazy #userannalise #tuserthay #usersmile #tusermeg #sometimes i forget just how great the first five seasons are #these are objectively the best songs #anyways bones music slaps goodnight #*mine

[messagestoateez]

Packing

Paring: Seonghwa x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: slight bit of angst. Pouty Seonghwa really.

Summary: You moved to Korea for college and met your boyfriend, Seonghwa, and his 7 crazy group members, but at the end of the year you have decided to leave and go back to your home country till the next year starts and you can see Seonghwa and your friends again.

A pout formed on his lips at the mention of packing things up. Granted you lived in a small one bedroom apartment rented from the college you went to, and you’d still be able to live in it when the new year started, but you wanted to pack things up and make sure when you came back you could start fresh and decorate your home different for a new atmosphere.

Seonghwa stood in the door frame of the bedroom you two had shared when he didn’t have a busy schedule and could come over, and when you didn’t have much homework from classes. The pout that had stayed on his face for what had seemed like weeks, was especially prominent today. He knew it was your last day in Korea till August and it pained him to let you go. Many hours away and many hours behind would kill him. He needed you to be with him physically, but he understood you miss your family and that you would be gone for only two months.

He sighed and you look over at him with a slight smile.

“My love, I won’t be gone long and we will text and call any chance we get.” You said, walking over to him and pacing your arms around his small waist, pressing your cheek to his chest, hearing his heartbeat speed up with the small act of love he received.

He looked at you and wrapped his arms around your smaller frame and nodded, replying with an almost inaudible “I know.” and then burying his nose in your hair, smelling the scent of strawberry and mint your shampoo and conditioner held. You two stood there for a while before you looked up at him and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, making him smile and a red hue appear on his cheeks.

“Come on lazy bones, we gotta finish packing. Mingi texted me and told me the rest of them would be over soon to help and are bringing food with them.” You said unwrapping yourself from Seonghwas touch and walking over to a half full box of miscellaneous items and moving it from your bed to the floor. Seonghwa walked over to you and helped you move things around and put things in boxes, when suddenly the bell rang.

“I’ll get it.” You said, standing up from your place on the floor, where you were sorting trash and important things into piles. You brushed off your hands, leaving Seonghwa in your almost empty room and getting the door.

You opened the door to 7 hyperactive boys who carried food and drinks, and were shouting your name, pushing past you to come in and hug you with all their strength.

“We come baring food and help.” Hongjoong explained, cringing when he heard one of the boys fall and something glass break.

San and Wooyoung walked in guiltily holding pieces of a broken vase.

“Dumbass here pushed me and I accidentally knocked your vase over.” Wooyoung explained, side-eyeing San, who had a given him the ‘I can’t believe you snitched on me look’.

You sighed and at the same time Seonghwa walked into the living room where you, San, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong were standing and his eyes widened.

“Is that what broke?” He asked.

“Yeah but that’s okay I planned on throwing it out anyways, I don’t use it and it’s just taking up space.” You replied, while taking the broken glass to the kitchen and throwing it away in a random trash bag.

“Hey I got the rest of the room packed, but I found some more papers and set them on the floor in the pile you were going through.” Seonghwa said when he saw you walk back into the living room.

“Okay thank you Hwa.” You offer him a small smile which he returned.

“Why so glum Seonghwa?” Wooyoung asked after seeing the small pout that had been on his face all day.

“Gee I dunno, may it’s the fact that his girlfriend is leaving for two months, genius.” San said in a duh tone, which earned him a slap on the back of the head from Wooyoung.

Yunho, Yeosang, Jongho, and Mingi all came into the living room from the kitchen, Mingi and Yeosang with chicken in their hands.

“Okay so where shall we start?” Yunho asked.

Seonghwa shrugged and looked around spotting unpacked belongings and boxes in a corner of the room.

“There?” He said, asking you more than directing the others.

“There,” You confirmed “but don’t break anything else boys. I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“Aye aye captain.” San and Wooyoung replied.

You and Seonghwa headed back to your room and you sat back down on the ground while Seonghwa started cleaning up and dusting.

Eventually the whole house was packed and cleaned, aside from a few blankets and pillows that were on your bed and couch, and the 9 of you were situated on your couch or on the floor eating and sharing stories for past time.

“We are gonna miss you.” Mingi had said which caused you to frown and pat his head. You two had to be the closest. You guys just seemed to have clicked when Seonghwa introduced you to the rest of the group. Ever since then you two have been best friends.

“I won’t be gone long. Keep Seonghwa company for me, yeah?” You said.

The boys just nodded in reply and went back to conversing.

Eventually it was time to say goodbye to the 7 boys, and the last people out were a sad Mingi being dragged out by melancholy Yunho.

You shut the door behind the two boys, locking it, and turning around to see a teary eyed Seonghwa, making your gaze soften.

You put a hand on his cheek, feeling him lean into the touch, which was enough to make the tears that had been building up over the past week or two, finally spill over.

You removed your hand and let him wrap his arms around you and bury his head in the crook of your neck, letting out silent sobs. You brought your hands up and ran your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe your crying boyfriend.

“Don’t want you to go.” He choked out. The sound of his trembling voice breaking your heart. You guys hadn’t had to be apart yet. You two met after he got off tour, at the cat café you work at. He had gone there often with the rest of his group members and the rest is history.

“Don’t worry bubs, I won’t gone long. It’s only 8 weeks, then I’ll be able to come back to you and see you again, I pinky promise.” You said holding out your pinky, he lifted his head up, the sight of his puffy eyes making your heart clench, and then hooked his pinky with yours. He then set his head back down onto the crook of your neck and enjoyed the feeling of you running your fingers through his brown hair.

“I’m gonna miss you.” He said, nuzzling your shoulder.

“Im gonna miss you too.” You said tearing up a little. To be honest before you met Seonghwa you were ecstatic about going home, but now? You wanted to be there with him, now more than ever. You’ve seen him cry, but being the part of the reason as to why he’s crying breaks your heart even more.

You two stayed like that till you both decided to get ready for bed, you still having to finish packing a carry on.

As you finished brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed, you exited the bathroom, Seonghwa going in behind you and getting himself ready for bed.

You got done with packing your bag, which consisted of your passport, wallet, portable charger, and a few other items, and set it on the floor by your dresser. Then you got your outfit for the next day ready, and headed over to your bed, plugging in your phone.

You got in bed and waited for Seonghwa to finish brushing his teeth, which happened a few moments later.

He crawled in next to you, and brought you to his chest, hugging you, entangling your limbs, and rubbing your back while you drew shapes on his t-shirt clad chest.

“Y/n could you sing for me?” He asked after a few minutes of silence. Even though he was much more talented than you could ever be in your opinion, he insisted that he was in love with your singing after the first time he heard your voice, while you were doing dishes.

“Mhm.” You hum out your answer and break free from his hold to put on some music, as a guide as to what you were singing.

Laying back down, you had reversed the sleeping position, with Seonghwas head on your chest and arms around your mid-section, while your legs were wrapped around his waist running your fingers through his hair again.

As the pianic intro started you prepared your voice to start singing.

Whether near or far

I am always yours

Any change in time

We are young again

Lay us down

We’re in love

Lay us down

We’re in love

Ahh Ahh

Ahh Ahh

In these coming years

Many things will change

But the way I feel

Will the remain the same

Lay us down

We’re in love

Lay us down

We’re in love

Ahh Ahh

Ahh Ahh

As the song had come to an end, Seonghwa’s breathing had evened out, soft snores leaving his mouth, and your eyes started to droop from exhaustion.

It may be 2 months till you would be able to see Seonghwa again, but no matter the distance your love would be okay.

You stopped your movements in Seonghwa’s hair and kissed his forehead, whispering something and closed your eyes.

“Goodnight my moon.”

#seonghwa x reader #seonghwa drabble #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa soft hours #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa x you #park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x you #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa smut #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa scenarios #ateez prompts #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez au #ateez seonghwa #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader

[szynkaaa]

I more or less watched The Boy!!! And by watching, I mean I skipped more or less through the jump scare parts because I cannot do horror movies at all. I haven’t watched one since 2015 and The Boy was like the first horror movie after five years

Full disclosure, the ONLY reason I started watching the movie was because someone posted a gif of Greta standing close to Brahms who was all sweaty and breathing heavily n I was like “oh shit who dat he hot” and here I am 

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her?

I did some digging for interviews and generally what people have been saying about the movie, took some screenshots from youtube to put my thoughts and musing together too! 

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her? 

So first of all, let’s start with a low resolution photo I found on IG of James Russell without mask:

which brings me to my first musing/thought/question? 

It’s all under the cut, very screenshot and text heavy, you can find more Brahms drawing at the bottom though  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So at the end of the movie, we are shown a Brahms with a broken mask and his face being burned, indicating that he was in fact in the fire.

I assumed first that the fire was created by the parents to fake their sons death and then he had to live hidden inside the walls? 

But I’ve also heard apparently it was Brahms who set the fire to fake his own death or maybe an eight years old kid really was trying to burn himself down?? 

My other theory is that his parents made the fire and tried to kill Brahms and it did burn him but he survived, and the parents didn’t wanna go to jail sooo to hide everything they made their son live in the walls

i mean the responsible thing would be to turn their kid in and have him treated and stuff;;; listened to a murder podcast about two cases where kids murdered enough kids and how they are doing now interesting read Brahms made me think of those two cases 

I also do not think that the previous nannies were killed. Like, c’mon. You’d report a person missing and sooner or later it would go back to the Heelshire mansion and if the body counts piles up? Can’t look good and I doubt that the Heelshire wants the police investigating them close up. 

Also, when the mom was like “He’s chosen you if you’ll have him” to Greta? Is it just me or the wording or does it sound like a marriage proposal/arrangement xD 

Brahms is a brat and he sees the people around him as his possession or to toy around. But I also do think that he has some abandonment issues but not in the sad tragic kind of way lmao. Even if he was the one controlling and manipulating his parents from behind-the-scene (quite literally I suppose?), he was still told as a kid to live in hiding and that no one can know he is alive. I don’t know much about the human brain, but I can imagine how damaging that must be to his mental growth and set him back in some way? We don’t know too much about his relationship with his parents - but I assume that he must have still loved them in his own twisted way. Can’t imagine that he would have been indifferent about his parents suicide. 

The scene before Greta manages to back out - first he uses the child voice to beg her to come back and promises he will be good. That’s his manipulating Greta, but when that doesn’t work and she tries harder to open the door, he becomes more desperate to keep her there and then completely loses his temper and threatens to kill Malcolm if she doesn’t return. I’m pretty sure homeboy would have killed him anyway. And then later when she returns and he is all heavy breathing and smelling her hair and then jumps up when she shouts Brahms? Idk I def think there is some sort of abandonment issue going on. 

I don’t think he is a child stuck in a man’s body or manchild or whatever. I think that he does know how to take care of himself - but he just chooses to manipulate people with the facade of a kid to do his bidding and cater to his needs. 

Anywhomst, but clearly Brahms is also a very manipulative and controlling person based, based on how the mother was reacting on the destroyed bedroom, she really seemed to be at the end of her wits and just breaking down with her “you promised you’d be good”. It was very heartbreaking to watch and also scary because it really makes you realize just how much power Brahms holds over them?? idk maybe it was just me.

Next point: the CGI mask  + the burns 

So according to some interviews with the director stated that at the first test streaming, people weren’t really scared of Brahms because he was too handsome so they had to slap a mask over his face. The face was done after everything was filmed. I’m thinking the face burns were also added post-production when they were adding the cgi mask. Otherwise, James would have needed to go through the makeup department for some wicked face burns and it would have been visible during the filming and test screening too? Which would imply that at first the fire was supposed to be just  a cover story that their son is dead and it was changed later

Observation/thoughts on Brahms Heelshire

Love how he stands there with his hands behind his back and then nods when Greta tells him to go under the cover

James Russell is 191cm tall. So like. Brahms is really fucking tall. But I notice that most of the time he stands with a slight hunch. Could be due to him crawling through the walls and crawling out of places that requires him to do a lot of crouching. His bed in his hideout made me really sad, I’ll get to it later. 

Since James didn’t get many lines in the ten minutes that he appeared, I do think that his eyes did all the acting. They stand out even more with the mask on, there is just this crazy look on it. I also noticed during my rewatch that he doesn’t seem to blink much or at all. 

Oh yeah, he also peeped on Greta and Malcolm making out on the bed and then cockblocked them. We been knowing that he made a Greta doll and very likely jerked off to it. We also been knowing that he very very very likely wanted to bone Greta at the goodnight kiss scene still waiting for the maskeless kiss scene gimme gimme. I also highly doubt that Brahms has much first-hand experience with kissing n stuff. High key thinking he was trying to do copy Malcolm and do what he observed lmao

When I first watched the scene, I assumed that the hole behind the mirror has always been and it’s just another one of the hidden passages Brahms to slip in and out, but now that I’m looking at the shape of the holes, it seems to me more like the mirror and brick wall were broken at the same time?? If that is the case holy shit boy is s t  r o n g. I mean, he also punched through the closet door like no big deal so really what have the parents been feeding him. 

I’m also leaning toward the fact that he ran there because Greta screamed loudly. I don’t think he was in the room as them when everything went down there, it seemed more like he heard the scream and had to nyoomed over and then punched a way through to get out of the wall. And then went on to attack Cole. He must have known that Greta wanted Cole gone, since that what she whispered to the doll before going to bed. 

Tbh, I fully expected him to murder Cole in his sleep, but Brahms wrote a warning message in blood to tell him to get out soooooo like. Cole you were warned and now you gotta live with the consequences ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Brahm’s sleeping corner

This scene was shown at the end after Greta and Malcolm escaped. We also see them briefly during the part where Greta and Malcolm are trying to find a way out and stumbled into Brahms’ hideout. I’m not sure why the rules are slapped on the walls. It seems to me that Brahms is very very very set on that the rules / routine should be followed. In the movie, he called Greta and suggested to her that she should follow the rules, to which she then started doing it.

I headcanon that that’s the routine that he grew up with as a kid and it’s just very very very very very hard to break out of it - not that he is trying to break the routine. 

I’m failing to find a good way to put my thoughts into words, but I guess the rules and routine is sort of his coping mechanism? 

I suppose if you had an OC that you ship Brahms with and want to change stuff around the house, the OC would have to very slowly introduce new rules and routines. Baby steps, yknow.

Brahms has a violin hanging there! Honestly I would be surprised if Brahms didn’t know how to play at least one instrument. The family also has an old ass piano/clavichord (?) and Brahms loves classical music soo yeah. Love me a boy who appreciates classical musical hehe

I suppose the egg boxes are there to soundproof the room more - maybe so he can play the violin? 

There’s also music sheets hung around his attics, it’s not clear on the screenshots but when you rewatch the scene and shove your face close to the screen. Some are hanging next to the violin and there are some taped on the wall next to his bed and porn too

nice to see he has a fridge and microwave, I was concerned that he wasn’t well fed and that leftovers might not be enough, but then again. Dude is 191 cm so clearly he has been drinking his milk

Didn’t take a screenshot of his vanity, but there is a crocodile magnet stuck to the mirror hehe. I do think that he shaves and stuff, otherwise his beard would be much longer??

We can see more music sheets stuck to a pillar on the right. 

Loving the christmas lights that he has hanging there above his bed. It’s cute. 

On the shelf he has a bunch of tupperware and empty bowls. Most of hte things are neatly organized. We can also see some books and a pen

There’s some sunlight streaming inside - I do hope that Brahmsy stays warm during winters.

Here we can see more of the food that he has there - there is also a sink but I didn’t snatch a screenshot of it. I think those are potatoes in the pot? Maybe he does know how to cook some basic stuff, I do wonder if he has a functioning kitchen up there. Probably not for fire safety reasons lol

Yall see that thing on the note sheet covered pillar? Ngl, that’s a whole ass aesthetic right there.

He got a few potted plants up there. Took a closer look at them and it seems like they were healthy. So he knows how to take care of plants, which is nice to know I suppose?

Yes, we all know what he was doing with the doll and what the tissue balled up tissue implies. However, has anyone noticed the size of the bed??? 

If you scroll up a bit to the screenshot of Greta seeing the doll, it looks t i n y. The make shift doll takes up more than half of the space. 

Yall. this breaks my heart. Dude is a beanstalk. I’m pretty sure the bed is from when he was a kid shoved by his parents to live inside the wall, does he have to sleep there in his adulthood too??? 

Even though Brahms strikes me as someone who probably doesn’t sleep much or during normal times, that bed must be so tiny for him. He must be sleeping with his knees bend and shit unable to stretch out :((( 

Brahms: is a psychopath that smashed the skull of a girl and very abusive tormented his parents and then Greta Me: omg he needs a bigger bed that poor thing :(((

Brahms’ DIY corner 

Ah yes, Brahm’s little DIY/creative corner. 

Homeboy got lot of animal traps, cages and taxidermies hanging around, pointing strongly toward that it’s a hobby of it? 

Also at the end where we see him fixing up the doll, we can get a better shot at his desk, and I gotta say the threads and stuff are all very nicely organized. Brahms’s table looks more organized than mine does lmao. 

So we know he is a crafty boy. Not sure how difficult taxidermy is but I imagine it does take a lot of time to learn? Well he had all the time in the world anyway.

So yeah, that’s a wrap. Congrats if you made it to the bottom of my incoherent thoughts and ramblings, have a bonus drawing of Brahms wearing different masks: 

#the ham talks #brahms heelshire #the boy #the boy 2016 #brahms #brahmbling

[lu-undy]

Idea: after a very long night of parenting poor engie is trying round up the other mercs (who are well.. to say drunk is an understatement-) and goes sniper (who like engine absolutely refused to try demo’s “mystery rum”) for help but there’s a problem while snipes would love to help a VERY drunken spy had latched onto him and refuses to move and he’s like “I don’t care if medics on the roof ready to throw solider this is my baby.. he’s.. mine.. all mine.. NOW SHOO-“

That was one awesome idea! Thank you so much for giving it to me!! Here it is, I loved writing it so I hope you’ll enjoy reading as much :)

The music was playing loudly that night as the mercenaries celebrated their victories of the week. But that weekend was to be longer than usual as the Administrator had called to say that it would last three days. The mercenaries, instead of their usual drink around a table, decided to throw a party. 

Thus, the music was booming through the speakers as Scout blasted the latest hits. The bass made their chests tremble as they danced and walked close to the speakers. 

"Sniper?" Engie shouted, his hands left and right from his mouth. He was looking for him.

Most of the mercenaries were way past tipsy at the exception of Engie who had refused to try Demo's 'special occasions whiskey' and Heavy who could withstand any quantity of ethanol as if it was mineral water. 

Engineer was trying to contain the relative chaos that the party had turned into, and like a single father to most of his colleagues, he felt a little bit overwhelmed. As a result, he was looking for Sniper that he had seen refused Demo's whiskey. The Aussie had received a shipment of Australian beers and wanted to enjoy them and nothing else.

The poor Texan had gone out of the base a few moments ago, looking for Medic and Soldier and had found them on the rooftop, one about to push the other in the snow 'and see how many of his bones would break when he fell in the snow'... 

Of course, Engineer would need some backup to make his drunk friends realise the foolishness of their idea, and that's why he was looking for Sniper.

Meanwhile, in the Aussie's campervan, the atmosphere was very different. Sniper had been joined by the most drunk secret agent he had ever seen. 

"Another cigarette?" Spy offered. 

"If it's free…"

"You are lucky I am this drunk or it would cost you a lot more." 

They were both sitting, side by side, on Sniper's worn out small couch. They chuckled and lit their cigarettes in the van that they had decided against lighting up. There was something cozy about the relative darkness. Spy undid his tie and opened the first two buttons of his shirt. 

"Ooh, the tie's out now, eh? You must feel naked or something." 

"Pff…" Spy giggled. "Almost so, oui. I hope this nakedness does not put you into any discomfort, hm?" He raised a smug eyebrow. 

"Oh, nah… I've seen other necks in my life, eh." Sniper joked.

They shared a chuckle but Spy noticed that Sniper's eyes stayed on his neck for a while. 

"I don't doubt it, and yet you stare."

"It's cause of your scar, there, sorry." Sniper averted his gaze. 

"Ah, oui. There used to be a time when I had more hickies and lipstick marks than scars on my skin. But this time is long gone."

"Really?" 

"Are you doubting that it was the case or that it ceased?" 

"Nah, that it stopped. You're a nice bloke. I'm sure sheilas fall at your feet like there's no tomorrow."

"Oui, it is true that I cannot complain in that regard. Although I must correct what you said."

"Oh?"

"Not only women seem to do that, I have my successes regardless of people's sex." Spy said with a smirk before taking another sip. 

"Always humble, aren't we?" Sniper answered. 

"Non, but always honest." 

"That's rich comin' from you, Spook!"

Spy laughed. 

"What d'you think about the beer?" Sniper asked.

"Almost unbearably fruity. I didn't know you were one to like it that way, Bushman."

"Oh, I usually don't." They took a sip. "It's just that one brand from home."

"From Australia?" Spy asked. 

"Yeah. Received them a few days ago, now." 

Spy looked at the bottle and Sniper chuckled as he saw him squint and stare, struggling to decipher the inscriptions. The Aussie turned a night lamp on. 

"Here, maybe you'll read it better." 

"I quite like the darkness. However, if the letters could stop dancing and wiggling around, that would help!" Spy complained and Sniper understood that he was just too drunk to be able to read. 

"I'll read it for ya." 

"Thank you." 

"It says that it's been produced in - oh?"

A knock interrupted Sniper's sentence. 

"Ooh, you were waiting for some late night company?" Spy mocked. 

"Nah." Sniper smiled.

"You sure?" Spy raised an eyebrow. "I can leave if needs be."

"Spook, quit it…" Sniper rolled his eyes and went to the door, seeing Spy's smug smile from the corner of his eye.

He opened the door. 

"Oh, hey Engie."

"Sniper, uh, could you spare a minute to help me out?"

"What's wrong?" 

"Solly and Sawbones are on the rooftop and Medic wants to push him off."

"What?!" Sniper's eyes snapped wide under the surprise. 

"He's dead drunk and thinks it's the right moment to try new experiments…" 

"Bloody hell…"

"Can you come and help me convince them down?"

"Uh-"

Before Sniper could answer, he felt two hands lace around him from his side and soon, Spy appeared next to him. 

"I am sorry, Labourer, but you have knocked on the wrong door. The Bushman is already in company."

"Spook, he's not askin' to spend the night here, it's just that-"

"Then why is he still here? Shoo…!" Spy accompanied the words with a gesture and Sniper rolled his eyes. 

"Spook, please, we really need to get them out of the rooftop before they -"

"God bless Americaaaa!" A shout from the very recognisable Soldier echoed in the snowy desert before there was a thud that they couldn't hear from that distance. 

"Well, it seems it is too late, Engineer. Now, if you don't mind, some of us were spending a delicious night here…" Spy added. 

"Look Sniper, now I'd really need someone to help me get him to the medicbay, no doubt that Solly did break a few bones." Engineer put his hand on Sniper's forearm to grab him but received a slap from the Frenchman on his hand. 

"Non!" He protested and Sniper smiled. "This Bushman is mine for the night. Goodnight." 

Sniper shrugged with a smile and Engie finally rolled his eyes with a smile. 

"Alrighty then, guess I gotta find Heavy…" 

Spy nodded and shut the door himself, still clinging to Sniper's side. 

"Can I at least go back on the couch?" The Aussie smiled. 

"Only if I can sit with you." Spy answered. 

"Right, let's go, Spook." 

Sniper walked more awkwardly than ever before with Spy clinging on his side. 

"Gosh, Spook, you're so clingy when you're drunk…" He sat down and Spy took the liberty of sitting on his lap and laying his head on Sniper's shoulder. 

"Is it a bad thing?" 

"I-I mean… You're drunk…"

"Oh, oui, way too drunk. It is more than likely that tomorrow I will forget that any of this happened at all." Spy answered, snuggling against Sniper.

"M-mate, look, uh…" Sniper looked down and saw that Spy's eyes were shut. "Ugh, of bloody course you're gonna fall asleep on me…" 

He sighed and silence fell. Sniper felt Spy's ribcage inflate and deflate regularly against his own. He instinctively wrapped his arms around him but then realised that he shouldn't. Spy was drunk, and as such, he was not thinking straight. Sniper however was sober, a bit happy from the beers, but he was very much the master of his acts and words. He shouldn't take advantage of his friend and so he decided against doing anything. He just leaned back slowly, Spy's head and body never disconnecting from his, and looked through the thin window. 

The bass from the speakers were still booming from the base and Sniper could hear them very clearly. For a second he thought back about Engie and hoped he managed to find Heavy and that everything had solved itself. But then, Sniper pondered. What would have been his answer if Spy hadn't said no to Engie? 

Sniper's eyes went down to Spy's silhouette. 

Of course he would have preferred to stay with Spy. And the way he had clung to him… He still was technically! And of all the places Spy had chosen to fall asleep and defenseless, Sniper's shoulder had seemed best for him. 

How on Earth could that be? Spy was distrustful. He never would give his trust to anyone and yet there he was, sleeping on Sniper's chest. Did that mean that he…?

"Spook… Uhm… I know you're asleep and, well, more drunk than I've ever seen you be before. But uh… Just so you know, even if you won't cause you've fallen asleep on me… anyway, I'm getting lost. Point is, I'd have tried to send Engie away to stay with you. I know it's bloody ridiculous. I don't know. I just like the night we're spending together. And uh, I guess I can say it now but if you weren't drunk, I'd have put my arms around you." Sniper chuckled. "It's almost hard resistin' it, eh. But you're drunk and maybe you wouldn't want it if you were sober. So I won't do anything. I'll just… I'll just enjoy being your pillow."

"And you are a comfortable one, Bushman." A voice with a French accent answered.

"Shit, I woke you up?" 

"I never was asleep." 

"What?" 

"I was just resting." 

"You never were sleepin'? So what were you doing? I thought you sort of passed out on my shoulder."

"I didn't."

"Spook, I'm so confused. What the hell were you doing?" 

"Cuddling? Hugging? Snuggling? Looking for physical comfort? You name it." Spy answered and Sniper blushed. 

"So you heard me?" 

"Oui, I did." 

"Ah… Right, well… Thank God you won't remember a thing tomorrow when you'll have sobered up, eh?"

"Ah oui, your reasoning would work if not for one thing."

"What?" Sniper asked.

"I am not drunk. Never have been. In fact, the last time that I was drunk to that extent was a long time ago now."

Sniper froze on his seat. 

"Wait… Why did you pretend then? And why tell that you were pretending?" 

Spy chuckled against Sniper's chest. 

"I pretended so that you would let me lie against you without you wondering too much about it. And I stopped to pretend because, very much to your honour, you don't want to hold me because you thought I was drunk."

Sniper frowned. 

"You're complicated, you know that?"

"Only as much as you make me." Spy answered. 

"But wait, if you lied about being drunk and all… What you said to Engie, was it true?"

Spy raised his head off Sniper's chest to look him in the eye. 

"Oui, it absolutely was. I find this night absolutely delicious in your company and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but against you. Besides, I really think what I said to Engineer."

Sniper gulped down audibly as he recalled Spy calling him his.

"The good news is that, because I am not even tipsy, you can hold me if you want." Spy added and Sniper's arms obeyed before his mind consciously made the decision. "Much better, merci." 

Spy snuggled against Sniper's chest. 

"I don't even know what I'm doing…" Sniper said.

"You are enjoying the moment." Spy answered. 

"N-no… I mean… I don't know what I'm thinkin', what's happening, what…?"

"Which is exactly why I pretended to be drunk. Were I sober, you would wonder too much and not just do what your heart tells you." Spy was lightly scratching Sniper's chest, on his heart and he felt it start racing. "Shhh… Relax. It is just you and me." 

"Yeah, well…" 

"Do I impress you that much?" Spy asked and Sniper's silence was an answer on its own. "Sniper…"

"I know. That's me… I'm like that. Sometimes I just… I just don't know what to say and I just stay silent... awkwardly."

Spy chuckled from the bottom of his throat. 

"Do not apologise. I think it is part of your charm." 

Their eyes met in the dimness of the van, under the light of the night lamp. 

"Really?" 

"Oui. But it does raise questions and doubt, your shyness." 

"What d'you mean?" 

"I never know if you're holding me because you really want to, or simply because I asked you to and you are too shy to refuse." Spy explained. 

"Nah, Spook." Sniper shook his head. "I'd never let a bloke sit on my lap like that if I… I mean, if I didn't agree to it."

"You mean if you didn't want it too?" 

Sniper shyly nodded, a bit embarrassed to admit such a truth. 

"I am delighted to hear that you want it too." Spy leaned again on Sniper's chest and lightly scratched it through his gloves. "You are warm and very comfortable. And that distinct scent…"

"I-I can change my cologne or something if you don't like it…" 

"Non, non, on the contrary. It smells of everything I abhor, it is cheap, so strong that it could bring tears to my eyes and yet!" Spy closed his eyes. "I couldn't possibly want to smell anything else, for I know that if I do smell it, it is because you are nearby." 

"Spook, just for a second, please be honest, ok?"

"I am."

"How can I be sure? You looked dead serious when you told me you were drunk, you even struggled to read the beer and stuff… I don't know!"

Spy raised his head. 

"Shall I show you?" He asked. 

"Show me what?" 

"That I am sincere." 

"Yeah, well, I don't know how you're gonna do it but yeah, go ahead." 

Spy removed his gloves and put his hands flat on Sniper's cheeks before putting his forehead against his. 

"Sniper… Please believe me." 

Sniper's jaw dropped as he saw him close his eyes and a second later, he felt something on his lips, something soft, something thin and warm and - oh - it became slick. 

Sniper rolled up his eyes before he closed them, his entire weight on the sofa and his whole attention on Spy's lips dancing with his own.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Next entry for @badthingshappenbingo !

I AM NO LONGER ACCEPTING PROMPTS! The single-bone marks on the card indicate which prompts I have received and am going to write, and I finally have prompts that will earn me a bingo once they’ve been posted (but they’re not posted yet)!

This fic has also been posted to FFN and AO3, so you can check it out on my Assortment of Broken Bones collection on there if you like!

This one was requested by @picajc! I have no idea if you’re still interested in this, but uhhhh. it’s done! \o/;

Prompt: Tooth Knocked Out Characters: Héctor, Imelda, Ernesto, Óscar, Felipe (pre-movie--characters are teens)

---~~~---

Héctor never made claims to being a genius, but he had to admit there were some things he really… didn’t understand. Like why Ernesto, for some reason, didn’t seem to like Imelda so much anymore. Or… that’s what it seemed like, anyway. He wasn’t sure.

As he and Ernesto walked along the side of the street, the afternoon sun bright above them as they headed toward the plaza to play music as usual, Héctor thought back to last night. The three of them had been lingering by the gate of Imelda’s family’s property, Héctor standing between his two friends, his gaze to Imelda as she talked with them about watching their performances. Yet even as he focused on her, he couldn’t help but feel Ernesto’s gaze on both him and Imelda, as though he were waiting for something… probably for her to stop talking, so they could go home. And then after they’d said goodnight to Imelda, when Héctor had brought up how busy she tended to be and how he hoped she’d get to watch them tomorrow, Ernesto had rubbed his hand over his face and muttered something sarcastic in reply.

That hadn’t even been the first time Ernesto had acted like that, either. It had been going on for a while now… at least a few months, Héctor was pretty sure.

It was weird. They’d all been friends for ages, since they were kids, so why was Ernesto acting so strangely now?

Well, whatever. Héctor would try to not let it bother him too much. Though really, he couldn’t imagine why Ernesto wouldn’t like Imelda. She was really smart, and was a great singer and dancer, and she had the most beautiful voice… Wait, what were they doing again?

His foot jabbed into something, and just ahead, Ernesto yelped. “Ay! Watch where you’re going!” Glancing over his shoulder (and the guitar strapped to his back), Ernesto finally stopped and turned around. “Daydreaming again?”

“¿Qué? Oh, no, sorry! I was just… thinking… about… oh, maybe I was daydreaming.” He gave an embarrassed laugh.

Ernesto shrugged. “I daydream too—thinking about how you and I are going to be world-famous one day!” He grinned, and Héctor couldn’t help but smile with him—it was hard not to get excited when they talked about their grand dream. But then Ernesto’s smile turned into more of a smirk. “But I don’t do it in the middle of the road and bump into people with my giant feet.” With that he gave Héctor’s shoulder a playful shove and resumed walking.

“I don’t have giant feet!” he cried in protest, but found himself staring down at his shoes anyway as he resumed following Ernesto. They… weren’t really giant, were they? He looked between his own feet and Ernesto’s, realizing to his dismay that his were larger. Ay, he hoped Imelda hadn’t noticed.

“Don’t worry, hermanito, you’ll grow into them,” Ernesto replied, waving a hand dismissively. “Hopefully, anyway.”

Frowning, Héctor adjusted the guitar strap slung across his front as they continued down toward the plaza, staring down at the shadows they cast before them. He knew Ernesto was just teasing, but the worry still nagged at him—he knew he had a big nose and big ears, but having big feet on top of that? He must look ridiculous. Ugh, why was this bothering him, anyway? Focus—you’re going to go play for tips in the plaza again today. Think about that instead.

Confidently he strode up next to his friend’s left side and turned to look at him. “So… do you know if Imelda will be there, when we get to the plaza?”

Ernesto’s shoulders dropped, and he rubbed eyes exaggeratedly with his hand. “Héctor, why are you talking about her right now?”

There it was again! Ernesto didn’t like her! “She’s our friend, remember?” he retorted, tilting his head.

“Oh, sí, ‘our friend,’” Ernesto muttered. “Of course that’s what she is.”

“Uhh… yeah?” Héctor scratched the back of his head. “Why are you saying it like that?”

“Are you—?! Ay! Nevermind!” After tossing his hands up in exasperation, Ernesto dropped both his arms and the subject, like that was all that needed to be said.

Crossing his arms, Héctor walked in silence for a few paces before speaking again: “So you think she will be there, or…?”

“Ugh, no. She’s right there, at the fruit stall.”

“What—?!” Héctor whipped his head over, looking past Ernesto, and sure enough he spotted Imelda and her brothers talking to a vendor at a stall across the street. Her hair looked very nice today—for certain she had a new ribbon in it—and even though she was only out here shopping, she looked so pretty today! But as for him…

He looked down at himself, seeing a dirt stain on his pants from when he’d tripped earlier that day, and quickly stooped down to wipe at it. If Imelda looked nice, he should, too, right? But as he tried to brush the dirt off of his pants (to no avail), he found himself staring down at his feet again. They really were stupidly big—he hoped she didn’t notice.

Looking up to check, his gut clenched when he realized she had turned to look at him—staring right at him. Ay, what was he doing?! Quickly he picked up his pace and turned away, face flushing as he hoped Imelda really hadn’t noticed he was staring—

BANG!

Stars exploded in his vision with an eruption of pain as he staggered backward and fell, covering his face. He let out a howl, his hands muffling the noise, and doubled over as he tried to figure out just what on earth he’d done.

“Héctor?!” Ernesto was immediately at his side, stooping down. “Idiota, you walked right into the corner of a building!”

Normally Héctor might have tried to say something in defense, but as it was, he moaned into his hands as the intensity of the pain began to fade.

“Héctor, are you all right?”

Imelda. Of course she’d seen all that.

“Oh no, is that—”

“—blood?!”

…And her brothers had too, of course.

He could hear the wince in Ernesto’s voice: “Hooey, that’s… not good…”

“Move your hands, Héctor,” Imelda said, her voice gentle but urgent. “Let me see.”

Already feeling his face flushing again, Héctor pulled his hands away, only to realize his cheeks weren’t the only things that were red—his hands were covered in blood. “AY! Wh—what happened?!”

No sooner had the words left his tongue than he tasted the blood, and felt something was wrong in his mouth.

Oh… oh no.

Looking up past his hands, he saw Imelda and Ernesto both wincing away from him, while the twins both stooped down on either side of him, scrutinizing the dirt.

“Oh, there it is,” one of them said, while the other nodded gravely.

“The rest of it, anyway.”

Héctor looked down, and sure enough, past the drops of blood on the road was a large chunk of something white. Immediately he clamped his hands over his mouth, howling into them again in despair.

“Stop, you’re getting blood everywhere,” Ernesto said gently as he fished through his pockets. He pulled out a handkerchief, which Héctor readily took, wiping his hands and mouth on it before holding it against his gums, where most of his tooth was missing. “So much for playing in the plaza today…”

“Thorry…” Héctor slurred miserably, trying to speak around the wad of material he held in his mouth.

“That’s all right!” one of the twins—Óscar, he realized—piped up.

“¡Sí! You put on quite the show anyway!” Felipe agreed, grinning.

“You should have seen yourself!” Óscar went on.

“You looked away from Imelda and bam!” Felipe exclaimed, slapping one hand against another.

“Cállate, you two,” Imelda said, shoving both of her brothers simultaneously. But she glanced back at Héctor, biting her lip, and he shrank into himself, feeling his cheeks heat up again. “Héctor,” she went on. “You should—”

“I-I need to go home,” he stammered, shakily rising to his feet and taking off down the road. As he ran, he scrubbed at the frustrated tears that were blurring his vision.

Dios, he was such an idiot…

 ---~~~---

That night, Héctor stayed in his room in the tiny house he and Ernesto shared. He didn’t come out when Ernesto came home, and didn’t say anything when his friend suggested that he take a trip to the dentist. As if completely embarrassing himself in front of Imelda wasn’t bad enough—would he also have to go to a doctor? No, no thank you. He and Ernesto hadn’t been saving up their money just to waste it all on some doctor who probably wouldn’t even help.

Still, Ernesto wasn’t leaving just yet.

“Lo siento—I should have warned you before you walked into the corner,” he said, and he genuinely sounded upset. It didn’t make Héctor feel much better. “Do you want to come out?”

“No… it’sss all right,” Héctor replied, and immediately cringed at the way the gap in his teeth caused a whistling noise.

Ernesto snorted in amusement. “You sound like you did when you’d lost that one baby tooth.”

Héctor groaned. At least then it had only been a baby tooth, not a permanent one. He was fifteen, not a kid. Ugh, if this was what Ernesto thought of him, Imelda’s opinion couldn’t be much better…

“…I was only joking, hermanito. I… hope you feel better.”

Finally Ernesto left, and Héctor lay back on his bed, sighing. What was he going to do? He surely couldn’t keep going on like this, missing a front tooth. Could he even sing without whistling through the gap in his teeth? Ugh…

At least he’d stopped bleeding. He stared down at the bloody handkerchief in his hand, wincing at its appearance. Briefly he wondered if it could even be cleaned—he wasn’t sure Ernesto would want it back otherwise. There was so much red on it, it could practically pass for a red scarf.

A thought struck him, and he turned to look at a few clothing articles on his dresser…

---~~~---

The next morning, Ernesto knocked on his door again. “Buenas dias, hermanito,” he said. “Are you going to get that taken care of?”

“Sssí, don’t worry about it, Ernesssto,” he called out. “I’ll get it taken care of, and… and I-I’ll meet you around noon at the plaza.”

Apparently pacified, Ernesto left, and Héctor finally crept out of his room to eat breakfast and get himself ready. What he was about to do wasn’t ideal, but… hey, it was better than wasting money at a doctor. And continuing to look like an idiot with a gap in his teeth.

Close to noon, Héctor left the house to set his plan in action. Unfortunately it… didn’t seem to be going as well as he’d hoped, if the odd glances from the people around were anything to go by. But… well… better than how he’d looked the day prior.

As he neared the plaza, a familiar figure came into view—Ernesto had apparently gotten impatient, even though it wasn’t quite noon yet. He moved down the street in quick strides, but stopped dead when he noticed Héctor. Héctor grinned sheepishly, though he knew Ernesto couldn’t see it, and waved.

“Hola, Ernessto,” he said, voice muffled from the red bandana that covered his mouth.

“What is this?!” Ernesto cried, charging up to him. “You told me you were going to fix it!”

“I did,” Héctor replied, straightening his back and gesturing to his mouth. “Now no one will sssee it.”

Ernesto rolled his eyes. “And no one will hear you, either. Héctor, that’s not a solution! You can’t sing like this!”

“I can… play guitar, ssstill?”

For a brief moment Ernesto looked like he was considering the option, but he shook himself. “Héctor, no, you can’t be seri—”

“Héctor?” And there was Imelda, standing down the street and staring at him in bewilderment. Her brothers, like before, were with her, adjusting their glasses to get a better look at him, and then both of them snickering.

Suddenly Héctor felt like this idea… may not have been the best one.

After shooting her brothers a warning glance, Imelda quickly approached her friends, and Ernesto took a step back with an exaggerated eye-roll. She ignored it. “Why are you wearing that?”

“I—um… I was just… f-fixing the problem?” he said, shrinking back as Imelda examined him. He was keenly aware of the frown on her face, and suddenly wished he’d stayed home.

“That’s not fixing the problem,” Imelda said firmly, and the disapproving look made him feel like he would shrink into the floor.

“Oh,” was all he could say, taking another step back.

Her gaze softened. “Héctor… are you all right?” she asked.

“He knocked out his tooth yesterday, in case you didn’t notice,” Ernesto muttered, and Imelda gave him a look.

“Other than that.”

“I… uh.” Héctor knocked his knuckles together, unable to meet Imelda’s gaze. “I… lo sssiento. I’ve just… been… worried that I looked… ssstupid… to you.”

Sighing, Ernesto stepped away. “I’ll leave you two to sort this out,” he said, and moved to lean against a nearby building, his arms crossed.

“Stupid?” Imelda repeated, furrowing her brow. “Why do you think that?”

He kicked his (stupidly big) feet, staring down at them. “Just… I look really ssstupid. And… I do ssstupid ssstuff—” and sound stupid with this hiss…! “ —I d-didn’t mean to ssstare at you, or… walk into the wall.”

“Oh,” Imelda said, and he winced, stealing a glance at her. He’d expected her to look at him in disapproval, but instead she had turned away, rubbing her cheek and appearing… flustered? That was strange. “I… hadn’t realized you were staring.” Shaking her head, she looked back at him, seeming calm again. “But I know you didn’t mean to walk into the wall. That wasn’t stupid, that was just ridiculous.”

…Well… okay, ridiculous isn’t as bad as stupid.

“This, however,” she tugged at his bandana, loosening it from around his face, “is stupid.”

Héctor gave an embarrassed—but genuine—laugh, allowing her to pull the cloth away. “Yeah, that… probably wasssn’t the besst idea. …Sssorry, Imelda.”

“Don’t worry about it. Come with me.” And without warning, she grabbed him by the hand, taking him down the street.

For a moment Héctor’s brain went blank in shock, but he soon found himself squeezing her hand back, his feet stumbling to keep up with her. “Uh, sssí! Sssure thing, Imelda!” Any embarrassment in him was chased away by a pleasant warmth, but it took him a minute to realize that she hadn’t exactly stated what their destination was. “Wait, wait, where are we going?”

“To the dentist.”

“…WHAT?!”

All the good feelings were suddenly gone, replaced with a deep terror in the pit of his stomach. Immediately Héctor tried to pull away, but Imelda held on tighter. “ERNESSSTO!” he cried, turning back to look at his friend. “¡AYUDAME!”

To his relief, Ernesto approached them, eyeing Imelda, who stopped in her tracks. “Let him go, Imelda.”

After a moment, Imelda let go of Héctor’s hand, and he drooped in relief, not immediately noticing as Ernesto stepped up to him. “Gracias, herman—ooooOOO!”

And Ernesto hoisted him up into the air, slinging him over his shoulder, and resumed marching the way Imelda had been dragging him in the first place.

“NOOO!” he cried, squirming to break free of Ernesto’s grasp, but Ernesto held him firm. “You betrayed me!”

“It’s for your own good, hermanito.”

Imelda, meanwhile, grinned up at him. “If you’re so scared of going to the dentist, I could always ask my brothers to help.”

“Oh, ¡Sí!” Óscar called, and Héctor realized they’d been following a short distance behind.

Felipe hurried to his brother’s side. “We’ve been working on inventing a new kind of glue—”

“That could probably be used on bones, like teeth.”

“Possibly!”

“Ideally!”

“If you still have that tooth you knocked out—”

“No! ¡No gracias!” Héctor called, horrified at the idea of them attempting to glue his original tooth back into his mouth. But Ernesto laughed, as did Imelda, and for a moment, Héctor forgot about his fear of the dentist, and his worry about money.

It was… really nice to hear Imelda laugh.

He’d like to hear that more often.

#hector rivera #imelda rivera #ernesto de la cruz #coco #pixar coco #coco spoilers #my writing #fanfic #bad things happen bingo #iiii don't know how to write romaaaance

[21stcenturyyfoxx]

Best Friends Father:Chapter one

Characters: Y/N, Keanu, Ava Reeves (not trying to hurt feelings), maybe Jennifer Reeves. (again, don’t send me shit)

Made up kids: Michael and Johnathan Reeves.

Summary: You and Ava have been best friends since you could remember; earning you the title as ‘the other daughter’ — but what happens when Keanu rescues you from a horrendous situation all the while he’s in the middle of an impending divorce?

Warning: divorce talk, smut, drug use. Cursing.

Ages:

Ava: 18

Y/N: 21

Michael: 24

Johnathan: 27

Keanu: 55

Jennifer: 48

———————————————————

The music boomed into your body like thunder across an open landscape at night. Rough and predatory.

Ava had persuaded you to join her at some fraternity house on the UCLA campus, somehow, she had gotten in.

Probably paid off a guard or teased her way inside. Ava might’ve been Hollywood royalty but there was a spark in her that wasn’t prim nor proper.

Protective would be the understatement of the year; you and Ava practically had grown up together, sure three years different, but, nobody fucked with her while you were around.

“Y/N!” You heard the familiar screech of your friend. You saw her, raven hair in a high ponytail, lipstick smudged beyond repair. She looked horrible and she was most definitely fucked up.

You rolled your eyes as you held a tight grip on her wrist, dragging her out of the door; her drunken pleas rang loudly through your head.

“You need to lighten up!” She hissed.

“You’re 18, Ava! Your dad ...”

“My dad?! Fuck my dad!” She yelled, clawing at your hand.

You sighed, you knew the two weren’t getting along, but nevertheless, you also were painfully aware you had to get her home in one piece.

———————————————————

Keanu held his head in his hands, eyes filled with disappointment and despair as he had looked over the papers Jennifer had served him — divorce filings.

His heart broke, a life he’d built with her was now in shambles.

The door unlocked, Keanu scrambled to throw the papers into his suitcase so Ava or any of his other children wouldn’t be subjected to the issue — not yet anyway.

“Mr. Reeves?” A soft voice called out.

Keanu closed his eyes, his heart in his throat at the way she always says his last name. He squeezed his eyes shut even harder before opening them, regaining composure.

“Yes, Y/N. I’m in here.” He called out to the young girl from the living room.

“I brought Ava home.” She said with a half smile, Keanu had stood up to face her by that point and caught the attempt.

Ava pushed passed her friend and went straight to her room with a slam of the door.

Y/N sighed heavily before shutting the front door behind her, rubbing the side of her face with her palm in exasperation.

Keanu motioned for you to sit down with him to discuss what had happened and why his daughter was drunk at two in the morning.

“What happened now?”

“She called me to come party, it was a fraternity this time. No telling...”

Keanu sighed, his eyes finding yours.

“Staying?” He asked simply, a weary smile spread across his lips.

“Might as well..” Y/N said looking around the house for any sign of Jennifer.

“Where’s Mrs. Reeves?”

“Ah, she’s at her mothers for the weekend.” He lied.

You nodded looking his way.

He was so handsome, so fit, so... old enough to be your actual father.

You mentally slapped yourself at every thought that encircled your mind of what would it feel like to have his lips against yours. His hands were always something that drew you in, how large they were and how strong they must feel.

You sighed, eyes fixated on the ceiling.

“You know, you don’t need to call me Mr. Reeves?”

“But you are Mr. Reeves. You’re my...” You trailed off not wanting to say the forbidden word.

“Elder?” He chuckled.

“N-no, no. You know, it’s a respect thing."

“You, little one, can call me Keanu.”

Your heart fluttered — but also your folds wetted at the sound of the nickname.

“Yes sir.” You winked.

“That’s more like it.” He smirked.

The air felt strangled, the two of you sat there on the couch. The tension broke as Keanu patted you on the knee, his touch burned you.

“You should go to bed, it’s late. Thank you for bringing my kid home.”

“It’s no problem, Mr. Ree—..” you started before Keanu gave you a pointed look with a raised eyebrow. A glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Keanu.” You smiled.

“There you go. Good girl.” He chuckled, smiling down at you.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You trudged upstairs to the room that was designated for your sleepovers, which, more times than you’d wished, meant that you brought home a drunk Reeves kid.

Somehow you were the mother of the group. The nights you would have to bring home a drunken Ava, or an overly tired and manic Johnathan, who worked two jobs but could never stop long enough to catch a break, or worse, a drunk and horny Michael; Michael and you always had a strange friendship, he’d always tried to bed you when he was wasted but could never remember in the daylight.

———

“You don’t know how baaaad I wanna fuck you...” he would growl, his breath hot against your ear.

“Michael you’re drunk...”

“You know you want this..” He smirked, his hand undoing his pants.

You carefully pushed him into the bed but he’d always pull you on top of him.

“Daddy’s little girl.. please, come on.” He whined, his clothed erection bearing up into your clothed pelvic bone, your heat there but you shook any thought of Michael away.

If he weren’t fucked up you’d take his offer... only because he looked like a spitting image of his father.

Maybe there was some undeniable feelings settled deep within you for the Reeves patriarch.

———————————————————

Pictured going downwards column: Ava, top. Michael, Second. Johnathan, third. Keanu, side picture.

#keanu reeves #series #BFF #best friends father #keanu x reader #chapter 1

[mini-pretzel]

a while - namgi

Genre: BEWARE OF ANGST, also light fluff

Music: reminiscer

Additional tags: depression mentions, also mentions of mutual pining, Namjoon is too sweet im crying, Yoongi is an emotional softie

Word count: 2k

A/N: namgi is slowly consuming my life. help.

Yoongi's has always buried his depression.

And his feelings for Namjoon.

Yoongi knew that it would happen again. Every time it let go of him, it was only for a short period of time. A few days after it would always return, bearing that weight of helplessness that he has grown accustomed to in his everyday life.

Whenever it would visit, he would try to seem okay around the guys, but he knew how that never came across as, well, normal in their eyes. They would usually notice a change in his demeanor whenever it would take him, having lived together for so long. They knew he was no stranger to such dark thoughts and emotions, but he hated feeling like a burden to the group, so he would bury it until it would dissipate into nothingness. It was simpler that way. No drama, no therapist visits, no scandals, no bad PR.

That’s how things went.

“Wow, I can’t believe we won another award.” said a soft voice--Jimin’s probably--full of surprise and amazement.

They were sitting around in their living room, jackets shed and spread on the couches, with some of the members already showered and in comfy sweats.

“Yeah, we’ll need to get another trophy case if this keeps up,” another voice said and a chaotic laughter followed.

Yoongi could faintly tell who was talking, but he was feeling like slowly he was slipping more and more away from the conversation and into a blank void that was absent of emotion. The thing inside him was starting to pull at him and Yoongi felt his hands growing increasingly antsy in lap. He really needed to dissociate. Only in being by himself in his room could he truly go through all the motions of the apathy that was starting to plague his chest.

He somewhat understood that he needed to shower and get change out of his award show suit, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. All he wanted was to curl under a blanket and pray that it swallowed him whole.

“Yoongi-hyung, you alright?” he heard a concerned voice of Jimin who was sitting beside him, but the elder just smiled tightly, eyes absent, and waved him off. He really needed to get away from the guys so as to not ruin their mood. They had just won another important award, and while he usually took his time looking at every little piece of detail the trophy had, that was the last thing on his mind as the sickening feeling in his chest softly whispered that none of it mattered and he really needed to be by himself.

“I’m fine, Jiminie, it’s just been a long day.”

The younger man pouted, his plump lips looking even more full, but didn’t pry further, which Yoongi found himself thankful for. His problems are the last thing that the guys need to focus on at during a happy time like this.

Speaking of which.

Yoongi slapped his knees as he rose from the couch, drawing attention from everyone around him.

“I’m heading to bed,” he announced to the group, trying to sound as normal as possible.

Jin and Jeongguk looked up from Jin’s phone, where the oldest, no doubt, was showing the youngest a funny video. They both said goodnight, but the air suddenly felt stiff in the room. Taehyung made a movement to hug Yoongi and he backed away before the taller man could envelop him into his bone-crushing hug, and somehow that only made things more suspicious.

Namjoon, with his smart eyes looked like was about say something but Yoongi purposefully ignored looking his way knowing how the taller man made his heart skip into his throat every time, making his crush painfully obvious. And he really, really did not want to deal with the inevitable rejection and awkward stares when the thing was rearing its ugly head. He could only deal with one thing at a time.

“Goodnight, everyone.” Yoongi said curtly, before speed walking upstairs and disappearing into the darkness of his room before anyone could stop him and question him on what was wrong.

As soon as he was secluded in the privacy of his room, he sighed heavily and stripped down to his boxers, leaving his suit in a small little pile on the floor before slipping into his bed.

Yoongi immediately folded his body into a fetal position as he brought the covers closer to himself. It was only there, under layers of blankets, where he could let go and cry as the thing inside his chest cavity wrapped a slimy grasp around his heart. There, in his little space, away from everyone else in the world, he would let it slowly devour him without retaliation, because there was nothing he could do. There, he could give up. There, he could hate himself. There, he could-

A soft knock interrupted his flow of thoughts and because it was so quiet in his room, as Yoongi has always been a silent crier, he could hear it clearly as if someone was beating down the door.

After a few moments, the knock returned, this time with more urgency, and Yoongi heard himself groan as he untangled his limbs from the sheets. He sluggishly stepped toward the door, his whole body feeling heavy, and opened it just a crack.

“What?” he said, wincing when his eyes were hit by a yellow brightness from the hallway light. He hoped he sounded grumpy and annoyed, and not pathetic like he felt.

A familiar pair of observant eyes looked back at him and it made Yoongi felt even more naked than he already was.

“Yoongi, are you alright?”

He felt Namjoon’s piercing gaze send a shiver down his spine.

“I’m fine.”

It was a blatant lie, and Yoongi knew Namjoon saw right through it.

“Can I come in, Yoongi?” his voice was gentle, so gentle it made Yoongi grip the door handle tighter and avert his eyes from Namjoon’s, a sudden warmth spreading in his cheeks.

“Why?”

“Because you’re clearly not alright.”

“I said I’m fine.” the words were cold and devoid, but he felt a fire stirring inside him. All he wanted was to be left alone. No one else was supposed to deal with this.

“Please.” the pleading tone in his voice made Yoongi look up to Namjoon’s eyes and see the taller man’s hand gripping the door, itching it to open further. “Let me help.”

Yoongi choked out a dry laugh, finding the vague proposition absolutely ridiculous, but stepped away from the door anyway, and with it letting Namjoon into his room. The boldness of this man, really. It made Yoongi’s head spin.

Namjoon closed the door behind him and Yoongi heard the lock click, but avoided turning back to face the new intruder in his personal space. His cheeks were already on fire, he didn’t need the man to see them too.

“Well, now you’re here. What are you going to do now?” Yoongi started saying in his nonchalant voice, “What could possibly hel-” his words were cut off when he felt the taller man’s arms wrap around him in a backwards hug.

“How long have you been feeling like this, Yoongi?” he heard the younger ask against his ear and shuddered from the hotness of his breath.

“A-A while.” Yoongi decided to answer. He didn’t know why he was being honest with the man, especially when it was much easier to not say anything. Namjoon had that effect on him, he supposed. He could make anyone talk about anything.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” the arms tightened around him, pulling him closer and Yoongi could really feel the warmth of Namjoon’s body now through the man’s shirt, the realization making him swallow hard.

“Not your problem to deal with.” he stated simply, feeling every pump of his heart in his throat.

“Oh, Yoongi.” was the response. And why did it sound so soft and full of care? It did nothing to help his poor heart.

That’s when Yoongi realized he was pretty much naked save his boxers in front of the taller man who was holding him against his chest. Yes, his heart was definitely not going to be able to handle this.

“What?” he tried to remain calm, but a part of him knew that his heartbeat already gave away his true feelings under his calm demeanor.

“You can always talk to us about anything that’s bothering you. Your problems are worthy of a solution.” Namjoon whispered with mouth pressed so close against his ear, Yoongi could feel his lips move with every syllable. “Please talk to us when you feel like this, we will support you.”

Yoongi’s breath stopped in his throat and there was a burning sensation in his eyes.

“I know you’d much rather hold it all in, but it’s not healthy, Yoongi.”

Damn it, Namjoon.

“We care about you, Yoongi.” he felt those pair of lips he thought about to too often when he was in bed alone press a firm kiss on his temple. “I care about you.”

With that, Yoongi’s heart stopped.

Then, hot tears trickled down his face and his shoulders quivered from the overwhelming wave of emotion. Suddenly the slimy grip on his heart wasn’t as tight was it had been before, and Yoongi speculated it was because of the long warm arms that were wrapped around him, as if shielding him from everything unsavory and dreadful.

Yoongi brought up one of his arms to touch Namjoon’s forearm and his fingers gripping the skin harshly as if it was the only thing grounding him in reality, keeping him away from the darkness hidden away in the corners of his mind.

So many thoughts were inside his head, but he didn’t know how to voice them.

“Yoongi.”

Yoongi hummed for the lack of a better response, still dealing with the sudden outpour of tears.

“Would like for me to stay with you tonight?”

Stay? Stay as in-

“In my bed?” Yoongi breathed out, glad it was so dark that his blush could go unnoticed.

“Not necessarily. I can sleep on the floor,” Namjoon offered, “I just want to make sure you sleep okay.”

“B-bed’s fine.” Yoongi protested immediately. Why in the hell did he sound so damn nervous? It wasn’t like he hadn’t shared a bed with the guys before during their early debut days. Namjoon in his bed was not an unusual occurrence, but the pounding in his chest and the flush on his cheeks clearly showed that something had changed since their debut days.

He felt the taller man nod and pull away, before taking a step back and moving closer to the bed to raise the blankets so Yoongi could climb in first.

After Yoongi was safely tucked in and watching him, Namjoon shed his sweatpants and crawled in next to him, facing him.

As they stared at each other, Yoongi noticed how Namjoon’s face held so much compassion and longing that it made him wonder how long the taller man reciprocated how Yoongi felt about him. The faint moonlight illuminated Namjoon’s features and Yoongi felt himself slipping further into the whatever feeling he kept silencing and locking away deep in his chest for years.

It had all seemed unfathomable, ludicrous even. He didn’t even dare let himself think all those times where he saw the taller man staring at him for a little too long or laugh a little to hard at his jokes meant anything more than comradery.

For who could feel such affection for someone as broken as Yoongi?

“Yoongi.”

“Mm?”

“How long have you felt like this?”

Yoongi felt his heart almost leap out of his ribs. “A while.”

Namjoon tilted his head, that lovely dimpled smile forming on his cheeks. “Why didn’t you say anything about it?”

Yoongi smiled back. “Wasn’t your problem to deal with, Joon.”

The taller man laughed softly, “Oh, Yoongi.”

At that the smaller man pushed himself closer, eyes glued to the dark orbs staring back at him. Yoongi felt strong legs wrap around his thinner ones and a pair of hands dig into his hair, pulling him even closer until their bodies pressed together in the middle of the bed. And right there, in the warmth, hidden beneath heaps of blankets and barely lit room, one pair of lips met another.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon fanfic #namgi fanfic #namgi angst #namgi fluff #namgi #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fluff #bangtan angst #bangtan yoongi #bangtan namjoon #bangtan namgi #namgi scenario #namjoon scenario #yoongi scenario #bangtan scenario #this is my fave one yet #ahhhhh

[lilyvandersteen]

Puppy Eyes Chapter 15

This chapter (Kurt’s POV) is as angsty as the one that came before, but I promise you a happy ending, cross my heart. Hang in there, please! They will sort things out in the end!

Thank you so much to everyone who sends me feedback - you’re wonderful and you spur me on to keep writing :-)

This story is also on AO3 and on Fanfiction.net.

The other parts can be found here: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14

Chapter 15: A Nasty Shock

Kurt had to hand it to R/GA’s PR department: they knew how to throw a party. The venue they’d hired was upscale and tastefully decorated, the drinks and the finger food were of good quality, and the music was excellent and would get even better once Justin Timberlake arrived.

Standing there talking to Joanne and Peter, Blaine’s hand warm and comforting on his lower back, Kurt felt his apprehension about the party fade away. He’d dreaded coming here, but perhaps he’d been too hasty to condemn Sebastian and his pursuit of Blaine. He’d seen hide nor hair of him so far, and he hoped it would stay that way, so that he and Blaine could enjoy the evening.

When Sebastian finally did turn up, Blaine was just gone to the restroom. Perfect. Kurt hoped that Blaine would stay away until Sebastian had moved on to another group of people. The guy got on his nerves, though, first touching Joanne in a way that made her feel uncomfortable, and then slapping Kurt’s ass out of the blue.

Kurt slapped Sebastian’s hand right back and made him leave with a flea in his ear. Honestly! Did the guy have NO sense of boundaries?

Blaine came back with happy tidings – there would be karaoke later! And Blaine wanted to sing with Kurt!

Now that the Sebastian threat had passed, Kurt relaxed and had a good time. Justin Timberlake was a great performer – and easy on the eyes – and Kurt happily bopped to the beat. Every now and then, he snuck a glance at Blaine next to him, who was dancing with abandon and cracked Kurt up with his dorky moves.

Towards the end of the concert, though, Kurt got a nasty shock when his head turned Blaine’s way again.

Sebastian had found Blaine, and was plastered against him, his front against Blaine’s back. Blaine, far from jumping away and berating Sebastian, wriggled even closer, his ass against Sebastian’s crotch, his eyes closed and the corners of his mouth turned up into a wide smile.

Kurt felt as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over him. Numb and cold to the bone, he watched the nightmare unfold – Blaine and Sebastian, moving sinuously to the music, until Sebastian was quite clearly thrusting more than dancing, grinding his hard-on against Blaine’s ass.

Still, Blaine seemed content. He didn’t move away at all. He didn’t grimace. He grinned. He seemed to really enjoy Sebastian’s attentions.

So that’s what I should have done, is it? Jump Blaine’s bones from the get-go?

Kurt shuddered. No, that wasn’t his style at all.

Justin Timberlake ended his last song to loud applause, and Kurt clapped politely.

Well, if Sebastian is who Blaine wants, I won’t cramp his style. But I need to sing a song to get all these feelings out before they choke me…

So Kurt headed to the karaoke machine, and signed up for the first slot. Of course, the song he wanted wasn’t available, but he told Sandra he’d sing it without musical accompaniment.

As soon as he started singing, all his feelings rushed through him and poured out into the song – the love he felt, the uncertainty Blaine had kept him in, the anger and the sadness that caused, and now the heartbreak caused by Blaine choosing Sebastian over him.

Kurt sang most of the song with his eyes closed. When he opened them again, the first person he saw was Blaine, alone now, and looking at him starry-eyed and beaming.

In his head, he heard Mr Zakharov’s mocking voice, “Up to his old tricks, is he, Blaine? Making you feel like you’re the only boy in the world to him and then friend-zoning you?”

Yes, that was exactly what Blaine did. Over, and over, and over. But Kurt wasn’t going to fall for it again. Ever. No way. He’d been putting up with it for far too long already, and he’d reached his limit. He’d had it with Blaine and his running hot and cold. Yes, he loved him, and that would probably ache for the rest of his life, but this was not a healthy situation to stay in, so he needed to get out of it. Now. No doubt Rachel would let him crash at her place until he got another dog sitting assignment.

As soon as Kurt had finished singing, he hopped off the stage and ran to the exit, already checking his pockets for his subway card and figuring out which line he needed to take to get from this venue to Bushwick.

Someone followed him, and as soon as that person spoke, Kurt knew it was Blaine. He turned around and let Blaine have it.

Blaine, who’d never experienced true Kurt Hummel snark or glares so far, shrank back, but that didn’t stop Kurt at all. He decimated Blaine, and then walked off without another look.

Blaine pursued him, pleaded with him and then offered to kiss him.

That made Kurt see red, and once again he tore into Blaine, viciously. If he really thought that Kurt was that much of a doormat, he had another think coming. Seriously? Ten minutes ago, Blaine was dry-humping with another guy right in front of Kurt, and now he was expecting Kurt to brush that off as if it were nothing and skip into the sunset with him? Delusional!!

Blaine, instead of apologising, turned into a dog.

Well, isn’t that just typical! Anything to avoid a confrontation…

Blaine whined, and Kurt instantly felt a pull towards him, to pet him and soothe him and tell him it would all be okay. He straightened his back and forced himself not to move a muscle, except to say that he couldn’t deal with this right now. He truly couldn’t. One week with Blaine the adorable dog and he’d cave for sure.

And then he jumped out of his skin when someone said, “Let me.”

Who had followed them into the hall and had been eavesdropping?

It proved to be Professor Scher, and she offered to look after Blaine while he was a dog.

Kurt, tired and defeated, agreed to that and handed over Blaine’s collar and leash, turning his back on Blaine and walking away.

Blaine let out a howl so full of pain and despair that it seared through Kurt’s body and stopped him short.

Don’t look back. Don’t look back!

But Kurt, always the masochist, did so anyway, and Blaine’s stricken expression almost brought him to his knees. Why did Blaine have to have such expressive eyes? So. Unfair.

And then Blaine’s eyes turned pleading, and again Kurt felt that pull, but then he remembered what had happened before. That betrayal was still fresh enough to make him choke and tear up, and before he knew it, he was at the subway station, panting and his spleen protesting violently at having had to run so hard.

Now that Professor Scher was taking Blaine home, Kurt decided to go to Blaine’s apartment first and pack up all his stuff, so that he wouldn’t need to go back there. It didn’t take him long. Thanks to his dog-sitting experiences, he’d become an expert at packing, knowing exactly how to roll up and stack everything to fill his suitcase to its maximum capacity in record time.

On his way to Bushwick, he took the key marked ‘Devon’ off his keychain and flipped it over and over in his hand. He’d leave it at Trent and Ashton’s. He had no business keeping it. Still, as he looked at the metal warming on his palm, his first instinct was to close his fist around it. Mine!

Well, you thought that about Blaine, too, and look how that turned out, snapped a snide voice in his head.

Kurt sighed and put the key in his inside pocket.

By the time Kurt had climbed the stairs to the loft with his luggage, he was worn out, and wanted nothing more than to fall face first onto a bed and sleep. But when he pulled open the dragging door, what he saw made him yelp and want to wash his brain with bleach.

Rachel was lying on the sofa, naked, and a guy was kneeling in front of her, eating her out.

Ugh, ugh, ugh!

Kurt shuddered and threw his hands over his eyes just as Rachel shrieked “Kurt!” and scrambled to cover herself.

A moment later, Rachel yelled at him, “What are you doing here?”

But Kurt paid her no mind. He had recognised the guy who was with her, and hissed, “Jesse? How dare you show your face here! You cursed Finn! He died because of you!”

Jesse huffed. “Not that again… I explained to Rachel that I DIDN’T curse Finn. How could I? I don’t have any magic. No-one in my family does. All I meant back then was that Rachel and Finn were never meant to be. They were just too different.”

Jesse put his arm around Rachel and kissed her cheek. “Now, Rachel and me, THAT’s a great match. Both excellent singers and dancers and actors, ambitious and driven…”

Kurt raised an eyebrow and thought, “… and full of yourselves.”

Rachel repeated, “Kurt, what are you doing here?”

“I texted you,” Kurt said. “I had a place to stay lined up, but it fell through last minute. Can I please crash here tonight? Tomorrow I’ll be off to Ohio for Christmas.”

Rachel looked at Jesse, who shrugged.

“Sure,” Rachel said. “But… Jesse’s living here too, now. So…”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow by six a.m. at the latest, I swear. I won’t cramp your style. I just need a place to sleep, and access to a shower, and half a shelf in the fridge, that’s all.”

Rachel nodded. “Okay.”

“My bed’s still over there?” Kurt asks, pointing to the partition wall behind which used to be his ‘room’.

“Yep.”

“Then I’m going to shower and get into bed. Goodnight!”

Kurt didn’t wait for an answer, wheeling his suitcase to his part of the loft, stripping quickly and hopping into the shower.

In bed, he’d expected to fall asleep straightaway, as exhausted as he was, but sleep eluded him. He'd gotten so used to sleeping with Blaine that he couldn’t sleep without him anymore.

Well, isn’t that just great…

After a few hours of tossing and turning, he grabbed his phone and looked up sleep aids. He ended up buying an inflatable boyfriend pillow, to be sent to his father’s address.

Yep. I’m officially pathetic.

K&B

Of course, when he arrived in Ohio, the first thing Burt asked was why he hadn’t brought Blaine.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Dad.”

Burt gave him a piercing look, but didn’t press the issue.

Of course, when Carole came home from her shift, she also asked after Blaine.

Kurt, already moving in for a hug, stiffened and turned away. “He’s not coming.”

Carole frowned. “Why not?”

Kurt gritted his teeth. “Because. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

He went to his room, flopped down on the bed and cried himself to sleep.

When he woke up, it was late afternoon. The daylight was dimming into dusk already, his head hurt like hell and his mouth felt like sandpaper.

Knock-knock.

“Come in,” Kurt croaked, and Carole slipped into the room, closing the door behind her.

“I didn’t want you to sleep too long or you won’t be able to sleep tonight,” Carole said, sitting down on the bed.

Kurt shrugged.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” Carole asked, gently smoothing his bangs out of his face. “Did you and Blaine break up?”

Kurt scoffed. “For that, we would have had to be dating first.”

“But it felt like you were well on your way there,” Carole protested. “I really thought…”

“Yeah, me too.”

Kurt’s throat was thick as he forced the words out, and Carole’s expression turned even more concerned. “What happened?”

“He likes someone else better.”

Saying it out loud felt like ripping off a plaster, and Kurt couldn’t help the tears that sprung up in his eyes.

Carole switched to bafflement. “Are you sure? That boy worships the floor you walk on!”

“Quite sure. Yes. He left no room for doubt.”

And that dry statement set Kurt off on another bout of ugly sobbing. Carole hastened to take him into her arms and hold him tight.

When Kurt resurfaced, his nose and eyes red and his headache now blinding, Carole patted him on the arm. “I’m going to make you a nice cup of chamomile tea, and then we’re going to watch some Christmas movies on television, with the cinnamon cookies I’ve just taken out of the oven. Come along.”

Sweets and tea and feel-good television couldn’t heal his heart, but they did make him feel slightly better.

Burt thankfully didn’t mention Blaine again the rest of the day, and didn’t ask why Kurt had been crying. Before he and Carole went to bed, though, Burt hugged his son, long and tight, and dropped a kiss on the crown of his head.

Christmas was a quiet affair. Kurt didn’t feel like cooking, so Carole whipped something up. The conversation at the table was halting and a bit stilted, as they all had a hard time avoiding the elephant in the room.

After dinner, Kurt excused himself to his room and worked for school. He debated e-mailing Professor Scher to ask if there was any way he could take the rest of his graphic design classes with her instead of Blaine, but decided that was too petty and childish. He could conquer this. He could.

I can’t promise to be civil to Sebastian, though. I hate him. Out of so many people he could have picked at that party, he goes for Blaine. Was that to spite me because I slapped his hand? And what does Sebastian have that I don’t?

Money, his mind supplied. Sex appeal. Experience.

Hey, you’re supposed to make me feel better, not worse, Kurt protested, and then he laughed, because he was arguing with himself, and how ridiculous was that?

K&B

A few days after Christmas, the dog agency called him with a new dog-sitting assignment. Poodles, this time, and he’d be looking after them for six weeks.

Kurt accepted eagerly, and just after New Year’s, he rolled his suitcase into his new temporary home. The poodles were nice, but their tight black curls made him think of another dog with a dark curly coat, a sweet and cuddly playmate that he missed more than he could say.

At night, the inflatable boyfriend pillow proved invaluable to help him fall asleep. However pathetic it might be, the illusion of having an arm around him was comforting.

He dropped in at Trent and Ashton’s place and gave them the key to Blaine’s apartment. They didn’t seem surprised, only sad, so Blaine must have briefed them already.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hold on to it?” Trent asked tentatively.

Kurt squared his jaw. “Quite sure, thank you.”

“He thought it was you, you know,” Ashton said.

“Uhm, what?”

“Blaine. He thought it was you hugging him from behind.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Seriously? He thought I’d dry-hump him in public? And how could he not tell the difference between me and Sebastian?”

“I know, right?” Trent shouted. “I asked him that too, and he said he smelled a whiff of Creed Green Irish Tweed. And that made him think it was you. He said you borrow his perfume sometimes.”

Kurt bit his lip. “That’s true. I like having his scent around me. And he’s always more affectionate when I smell like him. Probably a dog trait he’s adopted. Still. He should have checked. He broke my heart.”

“And his own into the bargain,” Ashton said. “He’s really depressed.”

Kurt glared at Ashton. “That’s not MY fault! He can’t blame anyone but himself. I’ve been clear about my feelings from the very beginning. He’s the one who kept me hanging and then dry-humped with some other guy.”

“He’d never have done that if he hadn’t thought it was you,” Trent pointed out. “He’s never felt sexually attracted to anyone except you.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “And you know that how?”

Trent clammed up, shifty-eyed.

Ashton giggled. “Trent promised not to tell, but I didn’t, so… Blaine has been having sex dreams about you. And he talked about it with Trent, ‘cause he thought something was wrong with him. He felt horrible about having those dreams.”

Kurt frowned. “As in… he’s never had such dreams before? About anyone? Really? That’s weird.”

Trent shrugged. “I guess he’s asexual. Or demi, seeing as he’s into you.”

Kurt processed that for a moment. “Right. That’s… kind of comforting to know. I thought… I really thought he was into Sebastian.”

Trent made a face. “Ugh, no. He said the guy gives him the creeps. That he wanted to punch his teeth out for touching him that way.”

That made Kurt laugh. “Boxer Blaine in action. Wouldn’t that have been great…”

Kurt eyed the key on the table, then looked away. “I’m still not going back to him, though. If he wants me, he’ll need to PROVE it to me. I’m not going to throw myself away on someone who refuses to commit. I deserve better than that.”

“We’ll pass on the message,” Ashton promised.

“But no stalking me!” Kurt continued. “I don’t want to bump into him wherever I go. And no harassing me in class either. Tell him to give me space.”

“We will,” said Ashton.

“We’re on your side,” Trent added. “Blaine has been taking you for granted. It’s good that he got this wake-up call. We’ll kick his butt into gear, don’t worry.”

Kurt nodded and got up. “I need to get going. Dogs to walk.”

“We still on for jogging tomorrow?” Trent asked.

“Yep. See you then!”

K&B

The next evening, when Kurt and the poodles met up with Trent to go jogging, Trent was grinning ear to ear.

“Wow, you’re in a good mood,” said Kurt.

“Yep.”

“Want to share with the class?”

Trent grinned wider. “Later.”

After half an hour, they slowed to a halt.

“Well, I’m going to take these ladies back home,” Kurt announced, crouching down and scratching one of the poodles under the chin.

Trent zipped his jacket open, and took out a plastic bag containing something rectangular. “Take this, too.”

Kurt accepted the bag and peeked in it. He saw a letter and a long slim box with ‘You bring colour to my life’ written on it in gold lettering.

“From Blaine?” he guessed.

He peeked inside the box, and saw a neat row of colourful macarons.

Trent winked and scampered off, shouting over his shoulder, “Enjoy! I got a box, too, for playing delivery boy.”

“Sweet tooth!” Kurt laughed. He put the box back into the bag and walked back to the apartment he was staying at with a spring in his step.

He waited until bedtime to open the letter, and smiled when he recognised Blaine’s handwriting.

“Dearest Kurt,

I should have told you long before what I was starting to feel for you. You’ve always been open with me, and I admire you for that, but I was scared. Scared because these feelings were new to me, and so strong they overwhelmed me at times.

You came into my life and turned it upside down. You dazzled me. With your smile, your wit, your inspired designs, your honesty and the friendship you offered without asking anything in return.

It’s as if I was living in Dorothy’s Kansas and you brought me to Oz. Suddenly, life had so much more colour and vibrancy to it, because I had you.

I’m sending you macarons today, because I want to be the colour in your life as well. I made these for you. Lemon, for the zing of your retorts. Pistachio, for your delightful nuttiness and the laughs we’ve shared. Chocolate, for the richness of your talent. Rose, for your sense of fashion and your flair. Salted caramel, for all the ways in which you keep surprising me in the most delightful way. Raspberry, for how bright you shine and how much you stand out. Passionfruit, for your passion and your drive. And last but not least coffee, for the kick that you give to any conversation, to each new idea.

You are so stimulating, so innovative, such a bright star. I miss you in my sky.

Please come back whenever you’re ready. I’ll be waiting for you.

With all my love,

Blaine”

#puppy eyes #my fic #chapter 15 #klaine fanfiction

[blackpinkstories]

The exchange

LISA MANOBAN X FEMALE READER

Part: 3/3

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Self harm and eating disorder implied and mentioned, drugs and swearing

About: You are the new exchange student at Osaka High. Once there, you become fast friends with Lisa Manoban and Jennie Kim. You begin to catch feelings for Lisa almost immediately. People get in the way and you become depressed as you used to be until…

“I like you too, Lalisa”.

The words rang in Lisa’s head like a knell, even though she already knew Y/N had a crush on her. Before Lisa lost her courage, she took one step closer to Y/N and kissed her tenderly but passionately. Jennie silently squealed from behind her tree. Fireworks were exploding in Y/N’s head as she wrapped her arms around Lisa’s waist. Y/N was the first to pull away as she was beginning to get dizzy. “Wow” Y/N breathed out, her and Lisa’s foreheads resting against one another as they smiled giddily. Suddenly, they heard a twig snap and they saw Jennie standing behind the tree. She knew she had been spotted so she went over to Y/N and Lisa, who’s moods could not be ruined now. “Finally! God it was so hard keeping the secret ever since Lisa told me she heard your night time confession Y/N-” Jennie was cut off by Lisa’s death glare. “You heard that? I thought you were asleep!” Y/N said, embarrassed. “I was asleep at first until you started talking.” Lisa said, chuckling nervously as she took Y/N’s hand in hers. “Jennie’s been buys being my match maker though,” Lisa said as she smiled thankfully at her friend. “Mine too!” Y/N exclaimed. Jennie stood there smiling happily for her two best friends. “Let’s go to my house for celebratory pizza and movies.” Y/N said as she walked inside to get the rest of her clothes from the day, hand in hand with Lisa.

They all walked home happily, laughing and singing as they walked. Y/N was limping due to the pain in her ankle but it didn’t stop her from laughing too. As soon as they reached Y/N’s home, Y/N had to sit down immediately as her back and ankle pain was getting too much for her. Lisa ensured that Y/N was comfortable and not in any pain by propping up her cushions on the couch and resting her foot on the foot rest in front. She went into Y/N’s kitchen to find the ice to help her foot, instead finding frozen peas that she figured suited just as well. They all chose to watch Orange Is The New Black as Jennie ordered the pizza for them all to eat.

The trio at first sat silently, Jennie sitting on a separate couch to Y/N and Lisa, giving them room to cuddle, attentive to what was on the screen. Lisa and Jennie went to get the pizza when the pizza guy knocked on the door, despite Y/N’s best efforts to stand up and pay. “You always pay, let us take it this time.” Lisa and Jennie said, ignoring Y/N’s stubborn pleas.

They paused the TV show and ate their pizza, talking in between. “Y/N, are you okay? You’re distant.” Lisa said. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m still thinking about the soccer situation. I don’t really know what to do about it.” Y/N said, putting her slice of pizza down. “I don’t want to leave everything I’ve made for myself here and I certainly don’t want to leave you guys, but playing for the England national team would be insane.” Y/N continued. She knew that only she would be able to make this decision but it didn’t stop her from seeking advice anyway. “Only you can decide what you want to do. I know it’s hard, especially for you, but you have to be selfish. Think about what you’ve wanted all your life and what you want your future to be like.” Jennie explained. Neither Jennie nor Lisa wanted Y/N to go, but they had to let her make her decision without making her feel bad. Lisa just nodded in agreement whilst she was deep in thought. She had become so adjusted to having Y/N near that she couldn’t picture anything without her smiley face being there.

After the pizza was demolished and the girls were tired enough to sleep, they went upstairs. Jennie wished them a goodnight before taking the guest room. Jennie knew well enough that Y/N and Lisa appreciated their alone time, and it was going to be different for them this time because they had fully confessed their feelings to each other. This time, they didn’t need to borrow Y/N’s clothes as they were prepared for staying over this time. It still didn’t stop Lisa from wearing Y/N’s sweater. In it, she felt calm and safe.

Lisa made sure Y/N was comfortable and not in any pain before walking round to her own side of the bed and climbing in, not before turning off the light. Y/N turned on her side so she was facing Lisa. The moon peeked through the blinds, illuminating Y/N’s face and it fell across Lisa’s perfectly. “Can I take you on a date Lalisa?” Y/N asked, examining Lisa’s face. “I was waiting for you to ask.” Lisa said cheekily. The smile on Y/N’s face made Lisa’s knees weak; she was glad she was lying down. “I am thinking Monday night, if that’s okay. I’m going to make it perfect.” Y/N mumbled. “Anything will be perfect if it’s with you.” Lisa said, smiling happily. This made Y/N’s heart burst so much that she couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss Lisa. “Can I cuddle you Lalisa?” Y/N said. “Of course.”. Y/N turned herself on her back, allowing Lisa to put her head on Y/N’s chest. Lisa’s arm draped over Y/N’s body, holding her close, whilst Y/N’s arm wrapped around Lisa’s body and wrested on Lisa’s bare hip bone. The bare skin erupted in goose bumps as Y/N’s warm, soft hands traced circles on her hip. Lisa listened to Y/N’s heart beat as it became steady, indicating she had fallen asleep. Now, Lisa allowed herself to fall asleep now she knew Y/N was safe and sleeping.

The next morning Y/N woke up with Lisa still draped over her chest. She saw that Lisa was still asleep and she took this time to take in Lisa’s natural beauty. Her chiseled cheekbones but her soft cheeks, her perfect lips and long eyelashes were captivating to Y/N. Lisa’s eyes fluttered open and she turned her head to be looking at Y/N. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw Y/N already staring. “Were you staring at me?” Lisa asked playfully, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe. Do you mind?” Y/N asked back, also playfully. “Of course I don’t” Lisa said before tilting her head upward to kiss Y/N. When she pulled away, she became paranoid that she had done something wrong when Y/N’s expression was unreadable, but all her doubts were cleared form her mind when Y/N pulled her in for another kiss.

Once they were quite finished with their kisses and sweet nothings, Y/N hobbled downstairs, using Lisa to balance on. They were met with Jennie slapping waffles onto a plate. “Morning cuties.” Jennie said. “Hey Jendeuk! You cooked!” Y/N said, now using the kitchen counter to balance properly. “No need to act so surprised.” Jennie said, finishing off the last batch of waffles before taking them into the dining room. “Thank you” Lisa and Y/N said in unison as they followed Jennie into the dining room. Their conversations over waffles were cut off when Y/N’s phone began to ring, an unknown number appearing.

“Hello?” Y/N asked, confused. “Hello is this Y/N Y/L/N? This is Phil Neville of the England National Team. I’m calling to let you know there has been a complication and we are going to need your answer by Sunday morning, so tomorrow. I hope this doesn’t cause a problem.” The manager on the phone sounded serious, and Y/N mustered a small “No problem sir”, before he hung up the phone.

“What is it Y/N?” Lisa asked, concerned as Y/N’s eyes began to fill with tears. “I have to have my answer tomorrow for the England team.” Y/N said. “Shit.” Jennie cursed. “I don’t know what to do.” Y/N said, letting the tears fall. “Y/N, we know you want to join the team but you won’t admit it to yourself or us. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.” Lisa said. She was the last person who would want Y/N to go, but she wasn’t about to get in the way of her dreams. Y/N nodded in agreement. “Let’s go play some music, lift our spirits.” Jennie said, taking everyone’s plates into the kitchen before appearing again. Lisa and Y/N agreed and they all went down to the basement to play around with Y/N’s instruments.

The day was spent the three girls spending time together. They tried to make it feel like a normal day. Y/N even invited Lisa and Jennie to stay again that night, but their parents wouldn’t let them. By 7pm, Y/N was alone. She hated it when she was alone so she decided to get into bed early and drift off to sleep.

The following morning, Y/N got her phone and called Mr Neville. She was scared, her hands were shaking and her chest felt heavy. “Hello, is this Mr Neville?” Y/N asked, feeling vulnerable.

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N. Do you have an answer for us?” Y/N swallowed before saying, “I accept your offer.”

“Brilliant. Your flight leaves 9pm Tuesday. We loom forward to seeing you again.” Mr Neville said before Y/N could protest. Tuesday? That was 2 more days with Lisa and Jennie! She texted their group chat telling them to get their fast and that it was an emergency. Sure enough, in 15 minutes, Jennie and Lisa were at the door. Y/N answered and immediately crushed them in a hug. “My flight for England leaves at 9pm on Tuesday. I wasn’t given an option.” Y/N sobbed. “What the fuck, that’s two days!” Jennie cried. Lisa pulled away from the hug and stood there staring at Y/N. “Are you joking?” she said. “I’m not. He hung up the phone before I could even protest.” Lisa didn’t say anything but she hugged Y/N as tightly as she could. Tears fell from her eyes as she inhaled Y/N’s soft scent. “At least you’re following your dreams.” Lisa whispered into Y/N’s ear, trying to be positive. She was fooling no one. That day, again, was spent with the girls being together. This time, they were not positive. They allowed any old movie to run as neither of them were really paying attention to it. Jennie and Lisa left at 8pm and once again, Y/N was alone. She got into bed and decided to torture herself by looking at videos and pictures Jennie and Lisa had taken and selfies they had taken together ever since they began to be friends.

Lisa was awoken by the sound of her drowsy alarm. She was happy because her and Y/N were going on a date tonight, but she remembered Y/N was leaving tomorrow, so her heart was all over the place. “Good morning beautiful” popped up on the screen as Y/N text her. Lisa immediately felt her cheeks turn hot.

Y/N was already waiting for Jennie and Lisa at the lockers, which was unusual as she was always latest. She gave Lisa a single rose as soon as she saw her, which made Lisa’s eyes light up. “Do you know what today is?” Y/N asked excitedly. Both Lisa and Jennie exchanged looks of confusion. “It’s date day!” Y/N said, dancing around despite her foot being slightly injured still. “Steady Y/N/N, is your foot better?” Lisa asked, holding Y/N’s arm to keep her still. “I don’t know. I took painkillers.” Y/N said. Jennie laughed next to her whilst Lisa grabbed Y/N’s face whilst examining her face. “Y/N! You’re high! You smoked before you got here and that’s why you’re so happy. You said you weren’t going to do that anymore!” Lisa exclaimed. Y/N’s expression immediately turned. “I’m sorry Lalisa, please don’t be mad at me. It was only one time.” Y/N said, pouting like a child. Lisa composed herself to not give in, as she was still annoyed. “Lalisa! Please! I’ll cry.” Y/N said, making a funny expression. Jennie was nearly in tears herself she was laughing so much. Y/N got closer to Lisa and said quietly so only she could hear, “Please don’t be angry at me Lalisa.” Lisa’s expression broke when she smiled, and she grabbed Y/N’s face and kissed her tenderly. “I love it when you call me Lalisa.” she said as the bell rang.

The day went very quick as both Lisa and Y/N were too excited for their date. Lisa dragged Jennie home with her so she could help her to decide what to wear. Y/N said to wear casual, but how casual was casual? Lisa struggled to find something she liked as the time neared 8pm. “Lisa! I’m going to lose my rag. Y/N adores you and will love anything you wear. I think you should wear the black and red striped shirt tucked into your jeans.” Jennie said, handing Lisa the outfit for her to try on. Lisa came out of the bathroom and checked herself in the mirror. “Good thinking Jen, I like this. What’s the time?” “7:50 Lis.” Lisa turned around in horror. She quickly put on her converse before going downstairs. Lisa’s mom was waiting there. “Mrs Manoban, you didn’t tell me how much of a handful your daughter is!” Jennie laughed, earning a swat from Lisa. Their banter was interrupted by a knock on the door. “She’s here, get the door Lisa!” Mrs Manoban exclaimed, excited for her daughter. She slowly opened the door to reveal Y/N at the door, roses in hand. Lisa was speechless. Y/N was wearing ripped black skinny jeans with a white long sleeved t shirt. In something so simple, she looked flawless. Y/N was speechless as soon as Lisa opened the door. “Good evening.” Y/N finally managed to say. Lisa’s mom stood behind Lisa, amused. “Come on, pictures!” Lisa’s mom said. Despite Lisa’s protests, they happened. Y/N put her arm round Lisa’s waist and pulled her close whilst smiling cheekily. Lisa did the same. “Have fun you kids!” Jennie exclaimed. She was seeing her two best friends off before returning to her own home.

“We are walking 5 minutes from here, if that’s okay?” Y/N asked. “Perfect.” Lisa said. Y/N took her hand in hers as they spoke about whatever came to mind for the short time they were walking. They soon arrived at a funfair. “We can go on whichever rides you want, and I’ll buy you whatever you want. Have you eaten?” Y/N asked as she paid for their tickets. “I haven’t. Can we get burgers?” Lisa asked, pointing to the truck in the distance. Y/N and Lisa walked over to the burger truck and Y/N bought what Lisa wanted. They sat whilst eating their burgers and as soon as they were done Lisa wanted to go on rides.

All throughout the evening, Lisa dragged Y/N places very quickly. She was like a child, but it was adorable to see. “Lisa! Let’s go here!” Y/N pointed to the Hook-a-Duck game. She wanted to win Lisa a bear. It took her three attempts but finally she won it. “Here.” Lisa’s eyes lit up. “For me?” Lisa said, taking the huge bear. “Yes, of course. What are you going to call it?” Lisa poked her tongue out in thought for a moment before deciding on ‘England’. Y/N laughed at the name before Lisa dragged her off onto the big wheel. They paid for the ride and climbed in. “It’s so beautiful up here.” Lisa said, looking out onto the bright city of Osaka. “I know.” Y/N agreed, but instead of staring at the view, she was staring at the Thai girl in front of her. Y/N leaned forward and so did Lisa. They met in the middle in a sweet kiss. It was sweet until Y/N tasted salt. Lisa was crying. “Hey, what’s wrong.” Y/N said, wiping Lisa’s tears with the pad of her thumbs. “I’m really going to miss you. I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.” Y/N forgot all about it. She was going to be on the other side of the world. “I know. I’m sorry.” Y/N said quietly. “Don’t be sorry. It’s your dream. I just wish it wasn’t happening so soon.” Lisa chuckled at how stupid she felt she was being. They stepped off the carriage and began to leave, not before buying cotton candy. Luckily, the night was warm. It was now nearing midnight and Y/N had promised Mrs Manoban that she would be home by midnight, so she felt good about being on time. They stopped outside Lisa’s house. Y/N handed her the bear back as Y/N was carrying it for her. “I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself.” Y/N said, holding Lisa’s hands in hers. “This has been the best date of my life.” Lisa said. “Isn’t it your first?” Y/N said. Lisa laughed. “Yes, but either way. Dates are only like this in movies.” Y/N stared at Lisa. She couldn’t believe she had the most gorgeous girl standing in front of her, it was unreal. Lisa stepped forward and kissed Y/N. “See you tomorrow.” Lisa said, waving at Y/N from her door. Y/N stood there, shocked at the kiss she’s just been given.

With that, she began to walk home. Her phone started ringing. “You’re walking home, aren’t you?” Lisa asked on the phone, her voice laced with worry. “Yeah. It’s okay. It gives me time to think about you.” Y/N flirted over the phone. “You can’t just say something like that and not be near me for me to kiss you!” Lisa said over the phone. It made Y/N laugh how cute Lisa was. “Lalisa, go to sleep. I can hear you yawning.” “Will you message me when you’re home?” “Yes, now sleep” Y/N insisted. “Okay, goodnight baby.” Lisa said sleepily. Y/N’s heart jumped at her pet-name. “Goodnight Lalisa.” Y/N said before hanging up.

The walk home was peaceful. The air was warm and the stars were shining. Y/N’s head was spinning with thoughts. She missed Jennie , and she missed Lisa. She dreaded dawn, when the sun would rise and it would be leaving day. There is so much she hasn’t done in Japan, or with her two best friends. She felt lost.

Morning rose and Y/N was once again woken by her alarm - ‘Not Today’ by BTS. Fitting, she thought as she turned it off. Y/N wanted to spend as much time as she could with Lisa and Jennie today so she dragged herself out of bed quickly to go get in the shower.

Jennie had the same idea in her household as she got ready as soon as her alarm went off. She was determined to get to school early today so she could have more time with Y/N.

Lisa had been awake since 4 in the morning. Her mind was muddled as she got in to the shower at 6. She also was going to get to school early with Jennie, but neither of them were very excited for the day to begin.

All 3 girls arrived at the same time, and they still had half an hour before school started. They sat in their classroom for first period, chatting. They all felt the negativity in the air today, and they weren’t in the mood for History, or seeing Rosé in the hallways, or in Chemistry. In History, they sat at the back just staring at their desks sadly. Luckily, their History teacher was basically blind, and didn’t know that they weren’t paying attention.

Lunch came by quickly, and they began talking at the table when Jisoo came over. “Y/N, I came by to tell you quickly that I don’t hate you as Rosé does. I have to say this quick before she comes but I wish you the best in England.” Jisoo smiled before walking over to their table, where she sat waiting for Rosé as though nothing had happened.

“That was weird.” Jennie said. “Yeah” Lisa agreed, glaring at Jisoo. “Oh Lalisa, are you jealous?” Y/N teased, kissing Lisa’s cheek. “I am not.” Lisa denied, though Jennie and Y/N both exchanged amused looks. “Whatever you say Lis,” Jennie said, sipping her water.

In the next and final lesson, which happened to be Phys Ed, Lisa, Jennie and Y/N were excused from the lesson as Mrs Kim saw how upset they all were. She wished Y/N the best and that she’d be missed. They sat on the field with food they bought from the cafeteria and a cake Mrs Kim had given Y/N, and they lay sadly together. “Where are you going to live in England?” Lisa asked, stroking Y/N’s hair as she lay in her lap. “I’m not sure. With my grandparents probably.” Y/N said. “Oh” was all Lisa said. Mrs Kim blew the whistle from across the field, and they knew school was over. Now, they were all going to go back to Y/N’s and get her stuff. They walked back to Y/N’s house, trying to be happy now it was getting closer and they didn’t want to send Y/N off with negative thoughts. The local ice cream shop was open and Y/N bought them an ice cream of their choice. It made them all a little happier but not majorly.

When they walked into Y/N’s door, her suitcase and rucksack were already packed. She needed to change into her clothes for the long flight, which consisted of sweatpants, an over sized t shirt and Lisa’s jumper. She put it on instantly so they didn’t waste anytime together.

“I can’t believe I’m going in an hour” Y/N said. Lisa and Jennie’s eyes widened as they didn’t expect her to bring it up. They were all trying to ignore the topic until it happened. The taxi to take Y/N to the airport was coming at 6 to be there by 7, and then Y/N had to go through all the general airport procedures. “I don’t want to believe it.” Jennie said. “Me neither” Lisa muttered.

“Guys, the taxi is going to be here in ten minutes.” That’s when they all got very serious. Jennie stood up to hug Y/N first because she knew her goodbyes to Lisa were going to be worse. “I’m going to miss you so much. Please message us when you land and take care of yourself there.” Tears were falling from Jennie’s eyes now and they were from Y/N’s also. “Please don’t let Rosé get to you. You are so much better than her. You are the greatest friend I have ever had and for that I’ll forever be grateful.” Y/N said, letting go of their embrace. Y/N inhaled deeply as she knew saying goodbye to Lisa was going to be hard. Lisa rushed into her arms, letting her sobs escape. Hearing Lisa cry made both Jennie and Y/N cry harder. “Lalisa, please don’t cry. I can’t bare the thought of you upset.” Y/N said. “I can’t do anything without you. I won’t be able to breathe.” Lisa sobbed heavily, and continued to do so when the taxi honked his horn from outside. “Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.” Y/N said, letting go of Lisa. Jennie took Lisa from Y/N whilst Jennie mouthed “Go” to Y/N. She picked up the suitcase and the rucksack from the floor and walked out the door.

The taxi was quiet, and painful. Y/N looked down at her phone to see her lockscreen, which was the picture Lisa’s mom took last night.

The journey went extremely fast and before she knew it, it was 8:30pm and it was nearly time to board her flight. She thought of Lisa. That’s when it happened. She called Mr Neville to tell him she won’t be getting on the flight and that she won’t be playing for the England team. With this, Y/N began to run around people like crazy. Now whilst running, she called the Japanese manager that offered her a place in a league team and accepted. This was the wildest and biggest decision Y/N had ever made, and it had all happened so far in under 20 minutes. She couldn’t get her suitcase anymore because it was already on the airplane, but she hoped it would get sent back. She hailed a cab as fast as possible and gave them 3000 Yen to get her back to her home faster. “I’m coming back. Cancelled England. Am staying. Don’t tell Lisa. Are you still at mine?” Y/N text Jennie in hopes that she would be near her phone. “Girl! I can’t believe you! She refuses to leave at the moment so yeah, we are still at yours. Why are you changing your mind?” Jennie replied almost instantly. “I love her”. Y/N sent. As soon as Jennie received that text, she smiled to herself. Jennie hoped Y/N would be fast as Lisa was still crying her eyes out on the couch.

In half an hour, Y/N was on her doorstep once again. Before she even knocked Jennie had answered the door, hugged her briefly and told her to go to Lisa. She walked into her living room and Lisa didn’t even look up. “Lalisa.” Lisa’s head sprung up in confusion. “W-What are you doing back here?” Lisa asked, confused.

“I love you, and I’m sorry I didn’t realise it sooner. I have never ever loved someone as much as I love you and I couldn’t leave you. I want to marry you, I want to get old with you. I don’t think I could ever leave my soulmate behind. I love you so much that I wonder how I got so lucky. We’ve only just started, who knows what we could be throwing away?” Lisa stood, dumbfounded. She was not expecting Y/N to say all that. Her eyes pleaded and Lisa couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you too” Lisa said, running over to Y/N and kissed her hard, harder than she had ever been kissed, tears were still running down Lisa’s cheeks, and fresh tears were streaming down Y/N’s. Lisa’s kiss made her knees weak, and she had to lean against the couch so she didn’t actually fall.

Everything either of them have ever wanted was right in front of them.

#lalisa manoban #Jennie Kim #lisa x reader #kpop #Jisoo Kim #park chaeyoung #Rosé #blackpink #scenario #fanfic #fan fiction #story #korean

[lunarimagines]

WATCH ME BABYGIRL [13]

Summary: Jungkook is your brother’s annoying best friend. You can’t stand him but he just can’t resist teasing you. How far will he actually go?

Warnings: none!

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3] [pt.4] [pt.5] [pt.6] [pt.7] [pt.8] [pt.9] [pt.10] [pt.11] [previous part] [next part] [pt.15] [pt.16] [pt.17] [pt.18] [pt.19] [final]

“Okay everybody, I have some exciting news!” Hoseok exclaimed, clapping his hands together to gain the attention of the dance team.

You looked up from your phone. You should have been stretching but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You crossed your legs, grateful that Hoseok wasn’t a strict captain and also grateful at the distraction. Jungkook had been texting you non-stop again, but it was about baseball. Four hours of hearing about baseball? You were exhausted, although you did find it cute that he was so passionate about the sport.

You turned your attention back to Hoseok as he began to speak.

“Since we are one of four teams to actually have a girl, we have to do a duet of sorts. Each team has to do two dances anyway, so instead of doing two group dances or a unit dance, we’ll earn the extra points by having one of us do a dance with Y/N.”

You opened your mouth to protest before Hoseok cut you off by raising his hand.

“Now I know I just volunteered you, but come on Y/N!” he whined. “This is the only way we can maybe earn some extra points. Pleaseeeeee.”

You sighed, looking down at your phone as the screen lit up with another text from Jungkook. He was passionate about baseball, you were becoming passionate about the dance team. It wouldn’t hurt to do an extra performance… right?

You sighed in defeat.

“I’ll do it.”

Hoseok’s face broke into a bright smile, his eyes becoming crescents.

“This is great! Auditions for the male part will be held after school tomorrow. Stop glaring at me Yoongi, I promise there’ll be plenty of time to prepare!”

Suddenly, Taehyung raised his hand from beside you.

“What about you Hobi? Aren’t you going to audition for the part? You’re like, the best dancer here, after all” he said sweetly.

Hoseok opened and closed his mouth, trying to find a good excuse as to why he couldn’t do the dance with you. In all honesty, the reason he was hesitant to do the dance with you was because he liked you. Everytime he saw you his heart sped up and felt a need to impress you, a need to make you smile, and a need to make you laugh. There was no way he could contain his emotions if he was forced to dance with you. Even if the dance wasn’t sexy, he simply couldn’t trust himself. There were rumors you were dating somebody else, somebody on the baseball team. Hoseok knew his boundaries… but if the two of you danced together would he remember them?

“How am I supposed to audition when I’m running the auditions?” he finally spluttered out, his cheeks burning.

Taehyung just wouldn’t let it go.

“I’m sure we could all figure out a way to allow you to audition too,” Taehyung said, looking around at the other boys. They nodded, looking relieved that Taehyung had spoken up about the issue. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to dance with you, they just really wanted as many extra points possible.

Hoseok, for once in his life, looked defeated.

“Alright,” he began slowly, “I guess I’ll audition too…”

You felt excited that Hoseok was going to audition. Truthfully, you felt more comfortable dancing with him than with any of the other boys, even Taehyung.

“Okay, well let’s get started for today and be ready for auditions tomorrow everyone. We’ll do a freestyle first and then choose a song to create a dance to. After that, we’ll choose who should dance with our lovely Y/N,” Hoseok said matter-of-factly. “Positions! We’ll start from Taehyung’s solo.”

You sat slumped against the wall after practice, completely drained. Hoseok had worked everyone to the bone. Around you, the other boys looked exhausted. Hoseok, however, was still up and moving, cleaning up the cafeteria. You felt compelled to help him.

“Hey Y/N. You okay? Was practice good today?” Hoseok asked as you gathered up the other end of the extension cord.

You nodded, too tired to even speak. Hoseok laughed.

“I promise that when we get to the competition all of the hard practices will be worth it. Besides, I can tell you like dancing. You’ve really improved!” he said, shooting you a blindingly bright smile and handing you the other broom to help him sweep the floor.

“Thanks Hobi,” you mumbled, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks.

“Hey, if you’re tired you can head home. I’m almost finished here anyways. Everyone else has already left,” he said, squeezing your arm affectionately.

You whipped your head around to see that the two of you were, in fact, alone. Which meant that you’d lost your ride home with Namjoon.

You sighed, unsure of what you were going to do. Hoseok picked up on the confusion and tiredness behind your sigh.

“Do you- do you need a ride home Y/N?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

You nodded, not making eye contact with him.

“Please, if you don’t mind,” you mumbled, busying yourself with your bag as Hoseok packed up the stereo.

“Sure, it’s no problem!” he exclaimed, swinging his bag over his shoulder and reaching down for your bag. You let him grab it and watched as he slung it over his free shoulder. “Right this way to your chariot.”

You giggled. He was so dorky sometimes.

He rolled the stereo behind him as he made his way to his car. It was a little beat up and run down, but still cute. He unlocked it and swung open the passenger door for you, closing it behind you before dropping his bag and the stereo off in the back seat. He handed your bag to you as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Where to Miss?”

You rolled your eyes at his cheesiness before telling him your address. The drive was anything but silent. Hoseok asked you about your day and joked about all of the teachers you hated that he’d had the year before. Something about talking to Hoseok just felt right. You knew he was listening to your every word you said and that he genuinely cared about your replies to his questions. He joked freely with you and always laughed at your jokes, no matter how bad they were.

“We’re here,” he said, pulling into your driveway.

You felt sad that you had to leave him. Thanking him for the ride, you climbed out of his car and waved before heading up your drive and into your house. He waited outside until he was sure you were safely inside before he left, his heart heavy and his head light.

“Come on Hobi, can’t we just skip the auditions and have you dance with Y/N,” Yoongi groaned before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Yeah no offence Y/N. It’s just that we really want to win and Hoseok’s really the best dancer here so it kind of makes sense,” Namjoon said, typing a message to somebody- probably Jin- on his phone.

Hoseok sighed deeply.

“But then it’s not a fair audition,” he complained.

Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“Please, you two want to dance together- well I know you want to dance with Y/N at least- so can’t we just do a vote and have a majority rule?”

“I think that’s okay,” you said. “I mean, if nobody else thinks they would be a good fit to dance with me, then they probably won’t do well in the auditions.”

The other’s nodded at your reasoning, turning their full attention to Hoseok. Finally, he gave in.

“Fine, but it’s only because Y/N has a good point.”

“Y/N could spout some bullshit about how Toy Story was really a conspiracy theory and you’d buy it,” Yoongi mumbled underneath his breath, causing Namjoon to snort.

“What should the theme of the dance be?” you asked.

“Well… the theme we have now is tough and kind of dark so why don’t we stick with that,” Taehyung reasoned.

The group nodded. It did make sense, but that also meant..

“So like, a sexy dance?” Yoongi asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Hoseok’s cheeks turned a dark crimson color and you were sure your cheeks mirrored his.

“If you’re comfortable with that Y/N, I think it’s a good idea,” Hoseok blurted out, mentally slapping himself for sounding so enthusiastic.

“Yeah. It’s just a dance right? And it fits with our theme so let’s do it. Something like Troublemaker?” you asked.

Hoseok felt his cheeks heat up even more. Troublemaker? That was pretty intimate… However, it did go with the theme… He wondered how you were so calm about all of it.

“I think that’s a good starting point,” Yoongi said, standing up. “Can we get started? I have a ton of homework tonight and the student body is meeting early tomorrow morning and as the president I have to be there.”

Hoseok nodded, going over to the stereo and turning the music on, yelling for everybody to get into position. As he brushed by you to get to his own position, he leaned close to whisper something to you, his warm breath on your ear causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

“Stay after so that we can start choreographing the dance, okay?”

taetae: dude,,, I think our dance captain has a little somethin’-somethin’ for you

You rolled your eyes at the text message from Taehyung. You were home from practice and grateful that you had a late start the next day. You and Hoseok had worked on coming up with choreo for the dance until well past midnight. Finally, the janitors had kicked the two of you out. Now, you were laying on your bed, exhausted and feeling sleepy from the warm shower you’d taken when you’d gotten home

you: fuck off tae

taetae: listen sweaty :))))

taetae: i’m just stating the facts

You rolled over onto your stomach, your feet kicking back and forth behind you as you thought. Did Hoseok really like you? As far as you could tell, he was kind to everyone and joked with everyone.

you: goodnight taehyung

You locked your phone and slid it underneath your pillow. You knew he’d text you back anyways...

Sure enough, your phone buzzed only a minute later.

taetae: what about jungkook? does he know about the dance?

you: please

you: he’ll know it’s just a stupid dance

taetae: will he really? i mean….

taetae: he already has his suspicions about hoseok liking you

taetae: pretty sure he hates hoseok

you: hobi doesn’t like me and besides, i love jungkook

taetae: eeeewwwww

taetae: Y/N, my best friend in the entire world whom i love dearly, just said that she loves (loves™) jungkook

you: goodnight taehyung

taetae: goodnight booboo the fool

You turned your phone off and placed it on your bedside table. You probably should tell Jungkook that you were doing a sexy dance with Hoseok… right? At the same time, it was just a stupid dance that meant nothing and was a ploy to gain extra points so you really didn’t need to make a big deal out of it. Besides, you doubted Jungkook would come to the competition anyways. There always seemed to be a “baseball thing” whenever you asked him to come to something the dance team was putting on. Clearly he didn’t care too much, otherwise he’d be there. Jimin always was…

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook reaction #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #bts reaction #bts scenarios #bts imagine #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #jungkook #bts #kpop #myimagines

[floofydoctor]

The Doctor and Clara for all three. ;D

Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa

The Doctor! Every time. And Clara laughs at him every time.

Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them

Clara, at her teacher desk. Students constantly ask her why she’s in love with her doctor, and if he prescribed her a love potion. 

Who starts the tickle fights

Clara! She loves to ruin him every time. She rarely does it halfway either, like once she’s started tickling him she has to keep doing it until he’s ‘defeated’. She uses it as a threat every time he does something even remotely annoying. And half the time he keeps doing the annoying thing anyway just so she’ll go through with her threat since he loves it really

Who starts the pillow fights

Both, depending on the situation. Sometimes if Clara won’t pay attention to him the Doctor will start one so she’ll retaliate and therefore pay attention to him. Clara starts one when he’s being an idiot or when he’s trying to be grumpy with her. His resolve breaks instantly and he fights back.

The rest is under the cut because there were so many to answer!

Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile

The Doctor when they’re in bed, but Clara when they’re on the sofa. He always falls asleep first on the sofa, usually with his head on her lap or shoulder. So she makes it a point to have them spend more time there so she can do exactly that.

Who mistakes salt for sugar

The Doctor! The Doctor would do this and then shout for Clara. She thinks he’s hurt himself and comes running in, but he’s actually just tried to eat a pinch of sugar, which was actually salt. 

Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning

The Doctor. He thinks he’s being so sneaky, but then the microwave goes off and everything is ruined. 

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines

Clara. She says one to him every day when she wakes up. 

Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order

The Doctor when he’s in Clara’s flat pining waiting for her to come home.

Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies

The Doctor. Clara tells him off but she can’t help smiling.

Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion

Clara. The Doctor is slightly confused by this, but he enjoys their ‘dinner dates’ anyway. 

Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen

Clara started it by drawing a heart on him while he was asleep, and now he does it whenever possible to her. She retaliates sometimes, but he draws cute little hearts and stars and planets on her arm and she can never find it in her to rub them off, so she lets them fade on their own. 

Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation

Clara. Wherever he takes her, she takes something back with her. The Doctor complains but he doesn’t really mind. He thinks it’s cute. 

Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines

The Doctor does them while he’s bored/waiting for Clara to come home. He leaves them lying around and Clara does commentary on them with a different coloured pen when she finds them. 

who is more likely to hurt the other?

The Doctor, by accident. Probably during a pillow fight or tickle fight. 

who is emotionally stronger?

They both are in different ways. The Doctor has so much strength because he moves on from loss, but to quote Steven Moffat, ‘he’s an exposed nerve of raw emotion, all the time’. Clara has a lot of emotions, and she can handle them all. She’s very good at using them for good. 

who is physically stronger?

The Doctor, naturally. But he never uses his full strength against Clara on purpose. 

who is more likely to break a bone?

The Doctor, and has done so multiple times and then comes to Clara about it. But he doesn’t say anything at first, and then he’s casually just like ‘oh yeah I’ve broken my wrist’ and looks at her with so much pain held back in his eyes. 

who knows best what to say to upset the other?

Clara knows exactly how to upset him. The Doctor mostly just upsets her without realising, and he never really means to. 

who is most likely to apologise first after an argument?

The Doctor. He’s stubborn, but he loves her too much to not apologise, especially since it’s usually an accidental upsetting on his part that caused it. 

who treats who’s wounds more often?

Clara treats his wounds a lot. She’d like to say she’s used to it by now, but it never gets any easier. 

who is in constant need of comfort?

Honestly, the Doctor. He doesn’t show it and he doesn’t ask for it, but Clara knows. 

who gets more jealous?

The Doctor. Especially attention-jealous. He wants all of her attention.

who’s most likely to walk out on the other?

Clara. If things get too intense, she’ll walk out. 

who will propose?

The Doctor. He plans it for weeks in advance, and writes out everything he’s going to say. Even with all the planning, he gets very nervous about it. 

who has the most difficult parents?

Clara’s stepmother isn’t too keen on the Doctor, and will happily insult him to his face and say he’s too old.

who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public?

Clara, but the Doctor does when either of them are scared or when they’re in danger.

who hogs the blankets?

The Doctor for sure. He says he isn’t tired and probably won’t go to sleep, and half an hour later he’s stolen all of the blankets and made a Doctor-nest and fallen asleep. 

who gets more sad?

The Doctor gets sad when he can’t save everyone, and Clara gets sad for him and when she can’t help. They’re sad together, often. 

who is better at cheering the other up?

Both in different ways. Clara is very good at getting him to smile when he doesn’t feel like he can, and the Doctor is great at distracting her from whatever was making her sad. 

who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?

Clara. The Doctor makes terrible, slap-worthy puns. 

who is more streetwise?

Clara. The Doctor may have more experience, but that won’t stop him going up to a random stranger and talking to them. 

who is more wise?

The Doctor. At over 2000 years old, you would expect so. 

who’s the shyest?

He would never admit it, but the Doctor. Clara is more open with her feelings. 

who boasts about the other more?

The Doctor tells everyone about his tiny wife. “Clara would say this,” “Clara would do that,” “Clara is really smart, did I mention?” 

who sits on who’s lap?

They both try. Clara can successfully sit on his lap. The Doctor has more difficulty getting comfortable, and usually ends up sprawled across her. 

who hogs the duvet

As said before, the Doctor. Clara tries (and fails) to steal it back, so she joins him in his Doctor-nest. 

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

The Doctor. Except he texts like every 10 minutes if he’s not busy. 

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

The Doctor brings her the most unusual space gifts, but Clara often makes things for him that make him so so happy. 

who gets up first in the morning

It’s pretty equal, but if they were cuddling when they woke up, the Doctor tries to keep her trapped in bed with him because he’s too comfortable to want to let her go. This usually results in a tickle fight, which the Doctor loses easily. 

who suggests new things in bed

The Doctor. He’s 2000 years old, come on. He knows a lot of things. 

who cries at movies

They both do, but the Doctor cries at the cheesy ones. 

who gives unprompted massages

Clara. She’s very sweet about it, and he thanks her by cooking dinner later on. 

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

Clara fusses majorly. He insists he’s fine for as long as possible, and then literally collapses. She pretends not to be internally panicking about him, though. 

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

Clara. The Doctor catches her singing in the shower sometimes. 

who collects something unusual

Clara collects things from their adventures, even if that thing sometimes happens to be a rock. 

who takes the longest to get ready

Clara. She insists on being prepared for everything. 

who is the most tidy and organised

Clara. The Doctor is the opposite of tidy and organised. 

who gets most excited about the holidays

The Doctor surprises Clara by being very excited to spend holidays with her. Especially Halloween. He loves Halloween, but always ends up eating too many sweets. 

who is the big spoon/little spoon

The Doctor loves being the little spoon, but refuses to call it that. Clara thinks it’s ironic that she, the tiniest one, is the big spoon. But she loves it. 

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

Clara. If she doesn’t win, she insists on a rematch. 

who starts the most arguments

Clara, due to her control freak nature and the Doctor’s tendency to be an idiot. 

who suggests that they buy a pet

Clara. She really wants a cat.

what couple traditions they have

They do morning kisses and goodnight kisses, both very specific. Every Christmas, the Doctor lifts Clara up so she can put the star on the top of the tree. 

what tv shows they watch together

They probably watch Britain’s Got Talent so they can laugh at the contestants. And then they have their own fake talent show where the Doctor plays guitar and Clara sings, and then they do a dancing act together which is purposely really bad. 

what other couple they hang out with

Bill and Heather, in some kind of AU. Or nobody. They enjoy being just with each other. 

how they spend time together as a couple

Cuddling, adventuring, cooking, sleeping…they spend as much time together as possible. 

who made the first move

Clara. The Doctor is too nervous for that. 

who brings flowers home

The Doctor. Clara displays them on her table. 

who is the best cook

Clara is the best cook, the Doctor is the best baker. They know, they’ve had contests. 

#ooc. #answered. #whouffaldi #twelvexclara #twelfth doctor #clara oswald #okay to reblog #you can also add your own answers!

[pink-lady-joij]

Always stick to the plan

a Joey X PinkThug fanfic

Yes smut

It was a nice Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining lazily through the window onto the green plants in the window still. Joey was sitting on the ground by her knee height table, surrounded by paper and highlighters, studying a book and taking notes. She was trying hard to concentrate but failing miserably as Pink Thug sat opposite her. Baggy sweats, a lose white T, mask off and hair a glorious mess, it wasn’t fair really. He was even wearing the gold chain he snatched off someone, a nice contrast against his collar bone and an even better contrast against the tattoo on his throat. One knee up, and his right arm around it, he was working on his laptop, concentrating on something. Probably some new music. Joey found it hard not to look at him. This image, this side of him was so different from what she was used to. The aggressive ever cursing thug, calmly working, concentrating looking so damn fresh. He had just showered, his hair was still damp, and he was so relaxed, so sober, raw. Fuck, she was supposed to hate him. He looked up, taking her by surprise. Shit, now he knew she was staring. He didn’t seem to care. “Hey can I smoke in here?” he asked, taking out a cigarette, glancing away from her. “No” she replied harshly. Fucking hell no, Joey hated the smell of cigarette smoke. Of course , he proceeded lighting said cigarette anyway. “Asshole” she muttered, while she kept looking at him, he just shrugged and leaned back, exhaling his first puff. Joey didn’t like smoking at all, but seeing him smoke had something sensual about it. The way he held his cig, the way the smoke came out of his mouth, surrounded him, embraced him. She just wanted to draw it. Fuck, no, focus. What the fuck was she thinking? This had not been the plan at all, when she took him home last night. Last night had been Kohe’s birthday and he had thrown a party. It had been great, everyone was there, well, of course except Francis. They had opened presents, had sung, had drunk cheap-ass bear. At some point in the evening they decided to go out to a strip club. Salamander man had been invited onstage, much to his pleasure, and actually had made some money. The night had ended with pink guy and lemon screaming at each other while salamander man laughed at them, safari-man passed out in the corner, pink thug fucking wasted trying to pick up a waitress and franklin missing. Kohe had approached Joey. “Boy was that a birthday” he had sighted happily, “Joey I need your help getting these assholes home. I can take care of safari-man, pink guy is sober enough to take lemon home and sal had his shit together, but thugie over there is too drunk to find a place to sleep right now. Fake would take him home, but our lil imposter is gone, so now he has no place to go.” They had both looked over at Pink Thug getting slapped across the face and nearly falling down his barstool. Joey had probably looked very pissed as Kohe followed up with, “Please? You know I can’t sleep when I’m too worried, and I’m pretty smashed myself” They had looked over again because of a noise, and yeah, Thug had started a fight with a random dude and was about to get thrown out by a bouncer. “Please Joey, please, just for once, you can kick him out in the morning, I don’t care, do it for me please” and Kohe had looked so hopeful, so worried, it was like saying no to a puppy. “Alright, but not a word about it tomorrow,” Joey’d sighed, knowing she’d regret this in the morning. Kohe had hugged her. “Here is the backpack he left at my place. Thank you,” he had said, while pulling up safari-man, dragging him to pink guy to get them all out of there. Joey had sighed, and had walked out in search of that drunk bastard. Now getting Pink Thug home was a ride on it’s one. He first insisted he didn’t need her help, then he had thrown up, had crashed into a fucking garbage can, and hadn’t been able to get up. Somehow, Joey had pulled through and when they finally had reached her apartment, he tried to kiss her. “Come onnnn Joey, come here baby” he had babbled along, while she was trying to get him on the couch. “Joeeeyyy I would have been dead by now, you are so sweet,” the slurred talking had ended. They were in her living room by the couch and he had held her, hands on her waist, eyes unfocused from the alcohol. He had been so close, too close. She had pushed him until he had loosened his grip around her and fell down on the couch. “Goodnight,” she’d told him while throwing a blanket over him, but he had already fallen asleep. In the morning, after she had cursed her existence and God in general for the severe hangover, she had taken a shower and put a water bottle beside Pink Thug. She left to do some groceries and to get some breakfast. When she got home again with two croissants, eggs, bacon and strawberries, the water bottle had been empty and Thug had been in the shower. She had unloaded her bags, made coffee and started cooking the bacon and eggs, the best remedy for a hangover she knew. They had eaten in silence since neither felt like talking and he hadn’t thanked her, not once. Joey had been about to throw him out when he had asked if he could stay for a while. Joey had wanted to refuse, furiously , but something in his voice had told her, he had no other place to go to. “That’s not my fucking problem!” she’d thought but she couldn’t kick him out knowing that. Or maybe she wanted him around for a little longer? She didn’t know, she only knew she had nodded. She knew she had watched the glimpse of relief in his eyes while he pulled out his laptop and started typing. She knew that his lips looked good in the afternoon light and his hands strong and precise. Now, she was trying to focus on her own work but couldn’t. Her gaze kept creeping away from the paper and to the boy putting out his cigarette on the breakfast plates still on the table. She gave up. “What are you working on?” Joey asked. “Oh just some music for Pink Guy” he answered. “I though you guys hated each other” she said “Not quite” he replied. “I’m making something he can rap too, he asked for something groovy yet strong.” he said. “Minimal of course, like always” Thugs voice was low and smooth and confident. “ He also said ‘rice balls’, just that, what is that supposed to mean? Like, can he be clear for a second?” he grumbled. Joey didn’t care about the song, she was looking at his lips moving, soft, full, expressive, tasty? “You see, I picked this sound for the base. I will build the rhythm like that,” he played some beats “and I’ll add a high head later, maybe, I still have to decide on that.” She wondered how it would be like to kiss him. What would happen? He did try to kiss her last night. He had been drunk, but weren’t drunk people more honest then when they were sober? Shut up, she thought, he was just horny and you were there on the right place in the right time. Still, she couldn’t get is out of her head. Those lips, on hers… Now he was back to concentrating again. Oh what the hell? A kiss didn’t matter right? That’s what she thought as she walked around the table and sat down next to him. He shortly glanced at her from the corners of his eyes. “Can you show me the beats again?” Joey asked, while she came closer. “Sure” he said and he stated rambling again, as he was just telling her what he thought directly without filter. It seemed to help him organise his thoughts. When he was done Joey spoke, “I like it when you talk about music” Somehow, this was a loaded thing to say, it was as if she almost said that she liked him. “Yeah?” he asked sensually, turning to her. Thug had enough experience with women to recognise such an obvious flirt, and he reacted accordingly. “Yeah” she replied, coming very close. He leaned in as well and their lips touched each other. Slowly, softly at first. “This is nice,” she thought. His lips were as soft as she imagined and they did things for her. It was fairly innocent until Thug’s tongue entered her mouth and stirred up the heat. That’s when he threw in some passion as he cupped Joeys face with one hand and moved closer to her. Now that was dangerous, now she actually wanted more. She responded by putting her hands behind his head, into his hair and slowly laying down on her back, taking him with her. Now he was on top of her. He put his hands on her waist and let them run up along her body until he was holding her hand above her head. Their lips parted, and they were both panting. Joey looked up in his eyes as they were riddled with arousal. “Do you really want to do this, baby girl?” he asked. Yes, she wanted more, way much more. Something about the position they were in and the way he said baby girl turned her on so hard. But this was not as innocent as a little kiss anymore. Did she really want to continue this? As Thug looked at her, an idea popped up in his head. And with a smirk his face came close once again, and he teased her by kissing her lightly, giving her just enough to want more but not enough for satisfaction. It was like she was gasping for air, something so readily available yet so far away. Pink Thug chucked. “Well?” he asked again. Joey was now breathing heavy. “Well,’ she answered, “I don’t want you to stop.” An arrogant stupid grin spread across his face. “Whatever you want baby” he said while taking off his chain and shirt. She was speechless, he was ripped, but what caught her attention the most were the tattoos, Joey was intrigued by them. She knew of the web on his chin, and the gun on his leg but the massive shoulder tattoo was new to her. It was a skull, strangled with rose thorns and spider legs coming out of the right eye socked, she could see the beginning of roses on his shoulder blade. It was oddly beautiful and tragic she really wanted touch it, run her fingers over his inked skin. He opened his palms and made a ‘like what you see?’ gesture, still with that smug smirk on his face. He opened attack on her lips again, now giving her full closure, even more passion then before. He started unbuttoning her blouse and took her bra of, smoothly as if he had done it a thousand times before. Joeys hands were back in his hair, as he grabbed her boobs and played with her nipples. He chuckled again as he let his hands run down lower and Joey’s body reacted. She moaned in his mouth when he touched her pussy. “Well danm girl, you got so wet form just kissing? You must really want this dick” he whispered into her mouth as she tried to hold in her voice. He broke the kiss to sit up straight and take her skirt and panties off. He sat there for a few seconds, just looking down on her. “Hands above your head,”he demanded . Who did he think he was? Ordering her around? She felt mild anger flare up. Yet at the same time, it stirred a fire in the pit of her stomach as she slowly did what she was told. There she lay, legs spread apart slightly, tits out, hands above her head, all hot and bothered. The vulnerability was killing her, but having him look down upon her, all smirky and cocky, having his lustful eyes examine her body like that was, well, hot. Honestly, she couldn’t believe she was doing this with Pink Thug, but she liked it. She felt her discomfort grow with the seconds that passed, she really wanted him to touch her again. And just when she wanted to say something, he started moving again, exploring her body with his mouth. He started kissing her neck, and worked his way down, down her breast, down her belly, all while gently rubbing her between her thighs. Once his mouth was just below her bellbottom and she reacted by moving her hands he stopped. “Don’t move” he directed, again. She slowly moved her hands back up. Fuck, he was serious about this. He continued his fest, now purposely teasing her more. Kissing along her inner tights, dragging his tongue up, and down, when coming to close. He hands we under her ass, kneading her, working her up more. Joey’s frustration was growing by the second, it was hard enough for her to lay still, enduring this was a bit much. But his tactics didn’t change. ‘Oh no’, she thought, ‘he wants me to beg’. Oh hell no, that meant swallowing some serious pride, that would just be madness. But he drove her to madness and after a few more seconds, she opened her mouth slightly. “Please…” she muttered a little horse. “Please, what?” he asked in between kisses. ‘The motherfucking nerve of this asshole!’ “Please… Please eat me out…” she said softly, while flinching her eyes. This was too danm bad, how did she end up like this? “Well if you insist, don’t mind if I do” he answered, finally putting his mouth on her pussy. Joey made a high short noise, she was much more sensitive then she had ever been. And he went in, ate her out like a champ. Sucking, moving his tongue along her lips, inside her and putting his lips to good use. Laying still was now harder than ever before and she had troubles holding her voice in as she was heavily painting. But when his tongue made circles around her clit, she couldn’t help but moan. He put two fingers in her vagina and started going in and out slowly. She could feel herself coming close. Now unable to hold down her voice, she panted; “Oh… oh Pink, I’m close.. oh!’ He just continued doing god’s work, speeding up the rhythm. She came when he sucked on her slit, moaning uncontrollably, “Oh… oh-Ah! Ahhh!” “Good girl” he said, while she rode out her climax, breathing heavy. ‘This is so wrong, this was not the plan at all, fuck he is so good’ Joey thought, when he started pulling his pants and boxers off, revealing his already hard, large cock. “Oh by the way, you have permission to move your arms again” he jested. It was embarrassing somehow, that she had followed his orders, which she would never do otherwise, which had turned her on. “Shut up” she stammered, still coming to her senses. Still she was happy to get her arms in a different position, as they hurt a little after holding them in an unnatural position for such an amount of time. He came down on her, as her legs were spread apart, putting his hand aside her head for support. She put her hands on his neck. They kissed hazily. “You ready, baby girl?” he whispered against her lips. Joey just nodded. He entered her slowly as she gasped for air. Holy shit, she didn’t expect him to be that big. “You are so big” she whimpered involuntarily. He just shucked and kissed her again. Now he began panting as he started fucking her. He had his arms under her back and held her shoulders and neck from behind. He had his head in her neck, close to her ear. “Ah.. fuck,” he cursed hoarsely, “you are so tight.” She let her finger run through his hair, over his shoulder, touching his many tattoos, feeling his muscles flex, his heat radiate, she wanted to absorb it all. His trusts were powerful, fast, in and out, needlessly in an intoxicating rate. It was as if he had put a spell on her and she couldn’t do anything but suffer through it. Grabbing his shoulders, his back, grasping for air, letting out lewd moans every time he entered her. She felt herself losing sense of time and place. “Ah.. oh-fuck.. Joey… you are so good,” he disclosed, moving like he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want her, no he needed her. A primal need, urgent as ever. That alone send her over the edge. “Ah! Pink Thug…” she pleaded blindly. “I’m… close..” he said while he continued rawing her. He only grunted as his trusts became more slobby and he reached his climax. “Ahhhhh!… ah-ahhaha-a,” he roared in her ear. They lay still for a few seconds, minutes, hours, Joey couldn’t tell, catching their breath, coming to their senses, riding out their climax, as they shared their ecstasy, their rush. Until Joey broke the silence. “That was very impressive, Thug,” she said, swallowing a lump in her throat. They were laying down in her living room, sweaty, tierd, both satisfied. This had not been the plan at all. From his reaction Joey could tell he found humour in that statement. “It’s my way of saying thank you” he replied.

Note to self: always stick to the plan

———————-

Well @joey-rosenburg, I hope you’re happy lmao

Special thanks too @franklyfilthyfantasies for the beta writing, you’re the best

#hellllllaaaaa #i did it!! #smut #first time writing smut #i hope ya'll are happy #pinkthug #filthyfrank #writing #mypost #mystuff #submission #joeythug

[winter-soldier-writer-blog]

You Need A Maid? Chapter 1

Fandom: Avengers / Marvel Rating: PG13 Warnings: Swearing Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel, blah legal stuff. Don't sue me, I'm poor. Songs: Half Life - Whether, I

Chapter Menu

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Checking the time on the LED screen in your SVU you swore under your breath. Where had the time gone? The clock had played tricks with you all day, making minutes seem like hours. Endlessly it dragged on, your list of errands seeming to have no end. Steve had requested five new t-shirts, Tony needed a full restock of the liquor cabinet, and Sam, well, he just wanted more orange juice. On top of that, you still had dinner to make. At least you had that planned already.

Reaching the facility you parked your SUV in the garage, stepping out carefully as to not bump your door against Tony's newest motorized 'baby'. You barely understood why he insisted on getting another car. You had seen him speed off exactly three times in the span of the five months since he had purchased it. Once just because Sam wanted to race it in his wing suit.

It took several trips to and from the car to get all the bags inside. You nearly tripped on the step up into the kitchen carrying in the last brown paper bag of liquor. Setting it down on the marble-topped island you could feel the throbbing ache in your legs and feet. You looked at the sea of bags surrounding you and groaned, knowing if you sat down now there was no getting back up. Things needed to be put away, and dinner needed to be cooked. That was your job after all.

Reaching for a remote on the counter you pressed a few buttons. The stereo kicked on, blasting your favorite songs. Music would definitely make the jobs go by faster and you were certain you would be home alone for a few more hours. You reached for the closest bag, finding yourself getting lost in the music already. Were you shaking your booty a little?

I see your lips are the staircase to your soul Now you're fighting your feelings And fearing the shame that you sown All the times that I blindly followed you Can't believe that I never saw the truth I don't know what to do

You locked your arms around my mouth I don't know what to do, I think I'm turning blue I scream and shout, tear my lungs out I don't know what to do, I can't get over you

They tell you what you want to hear To feed the attention you hold so dear Tread lightly across these lines Playing again and again in my mind

"Hey, need some help?" A voice called out. You looked up, startled. Sam leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, laughing at the sight of you. Arms filled with produce and a bag of grapes hanging from your mouth you balanced on one leg with the other outstretched, keeping the fridge door open. Sam walked over taking the bag from your mouth. "I'm sorry Sam! If I knew someone was home I wouldn't have blasted my music." You hobbled around, making sure everything found it's place before you stopped to finally look up. He flashed his pearly whites down at you and shook his head. "Don't worry about it. You're just lucky you didn't wake Bucky." He turned, reaching for a bag, intending to help you.

"Yeah. Real lucky." A husky sleep filled voice approached from the hall. The sarcasm gave away who it was. Well, shit.

You reached for the remote, frantically pushing buttons until the music died. Silence filled the room, making you feel self-conscious. "I'm sorry Bucky." You apologized, running a hand through your hair nervously. He always seemed so grumpy. Who administered the suppository stick in his ass anyway?

He grumbled something as he pushed past you, grabbing the unopened bottle of orange juice from Sam's hand. "What was that crap?" He asked. "Whether, I." you mumbled under your breath. "What?" He huffed, demanding an answer.

"It's metal."

Bucky twisted the cap off and pressed the bottle to his lips, downing half the contents in big gulps. "That was mine." Sam scolded, grabbing it away. Bucky snorted ignoring him, his attention still on you. "You listen to that..." he paused searching for the right words. "Screaming mess? Nah. I won't believe it." He shook his head, locks of brown hair swinging in his eyes. "You're a bunny." He patted you on the head, careful to use his human hand, and headed in the direction of the living room. "Fluffball bunny." He called out. That was probably the nicest thing he's said since you met him.

You turned towards Sam and he shrugged, his hand stuffed inside what looked to be the last of the grocery bags. "You didn't have to help, you know I-," he cut you off, putting a finger to your lips. "Nah, I don't wanna hear it. Just say thank you." You couldn't help but smile against his finger. Sam was the kindest of everyone at the facility, treating you as a friend.

"Thanks, Sammy."

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You first two months of living with the Avengers was, to be blunt, fucking awful. The only thing that kept you upright was Sam's kindness. He wasn't like the others. He didn't have a robotic arm, super spy skills, and he wasn't a super soldier. Sam was an Avenger in his own right, just like the others, but Sam was just as much a normal person like you. Being an Avenger hadn't made him forget that.

It wasn't as if the rest of the team was mean to you on purpose. They had their reasons to be distant and cautious. You were an unknown. You could be poisoning the food and hiding bombs in the bathroom. Hell, even bugging the TV. What they thought you were doing to their laundry you really weren't sure, though, but you did play with the idea of itching powder in Natasha's underwear after she spilled nail polish on your favorite hoodie. That was almost unforgivable, almost. She hadn't even apologized.

Tony had hired you and had no suspicions, he was just used to being waited on and sometimes talked to you like you were one of his machines. He seemed to forget you weren't a MaidBot but instead were made of flesh and bone. He was dismissive, blunt, and often forgot his please and thank yous. Thankfully, he spent most of his time in his workroom, tinkering away on some new project.

Steve was polite, which you had expected from Captain America. Refusing you call you by your first name, he found it more appropriate to call you 'Miss'. He kept you at arms length just like the others, though. You could see out of the corner of your eye the way he sized you up whenever he thought you weren't looking. Scanning you for potential threats, calculating your every move. Even the way he stood around you like he was ready to pounce if you so much as sneezed wrong. It was really hard to hold in sneezes.

You had hoped Natasha could become a female friend in a house full of males. You had no such luck. You weren't sure if she felt threatened by you, something that was ridiculous. You felt like a sack of potatoes compared to her. Come on, that body, though. Regardless, Natasha remained a blank slate to you, only making the occasional stinging comment. You could see why they called her Black Widow, she was filled with venom.

Then there was Bucky. Bucky was just either stone cold stoic, or rude. Either he rolled out of the wrong side of bed, or the really wrong side. Apparently, his mother didn't teach him to keep his mouth shut if he didn't have something nice to say. Makeup smudged? Bucky noticed. Used too much salt? Bucky complained. Out of cookies? Bucky asked if you were doing your job. Sometimes you wanted to rip his metal arm off and slap him with it. You preferred the days he didn't talk to the days he had a bug up his ass about everything. Those were the easy days.

On the best days, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Most days your body pulsated from all the tension in your muscles. After dinner was served, eaten, and cleaned up, you would ask the team if they needed anything else from you, getting a few grunted no's in return. You would say goodnight and retire to your room, slipping into a hot bath, enjoying your fragrant bath bomb. On the worst days, salty tears would mix with your bath water.

"Should I come back later, or is your moment over now?" Tony called out, a hint of laughter in his voice. You separated from Sam, face turning red. "Tony, I know it's late. I was just about to start dinner. Give me an hour and I'll bring it to your workroom."

"You don't have access to my workroom." Yes, you knew that. Why you had no idea, especially when he complained about coming down for meals. "Anyway, dinner is on me. We're going out, to celebrate!" Sam looked surprised and confused, unsure of what they had to celebrate. Before he could ask Tony spoke again. "Go, Sam, get ready. Wear something nice, no t-shirts and jeans. Go." He shooed him off and turned to leave. Tony looked over his shoulder and winked at you, "Go clean up." He sauntered back to his workroom, and Sam disappeared to his bedroom.

You shrugged and picked up the kitchen a little bit more, deciding to leave the rest for tomorrow. You felt like collapsing. The surprise outing did make things easier for you, now you could settle into your room to relax for the rest of the evening while the team went out. After the long day you had a hot bath sounded like a pretty good idea, and maybe cocoa later. Yes, chocolate would be good. Lots of chocolate.

Your room was comforting, a haven you could retreat to after the day was done. Originally, when Tony had told you about living accommodations you tried to insist on staying in your apartment but it was a twenty-minute drive away from the facility, and he wouldn't let you say no. No was a word Tony Stark just didn't seem to understand. Surprisingly the single bedroom was nicer than the apartment you had lived in for two years. Queen mattress, walk-in closet, and a private bathroom, something that made the team bitter. Natasha and Sam had to share a bathroom, as did Bucky and Steve. Tony had defended it, saying it was only fair for the maid. You preferred the term household manager, like was advertised.

The bath water was running filling the large tub, mixing with the bath bomb you had thrown in coloring the water pale green. Suddenly there was a knock on your door. Not expecting to be disturbed for the rest of the night you had already peeled off your clothes. Thankfully you hadn't taken off your makeup yet. Hastily you threw on a robe and cracked open the door. "What are you doing?" Tony stood dressed impressively in a red button up shirt and suit jacket. You could see Steve walk by behind him, dressed in similar fashion. They must be going somewhere nice.

"I was about to take a bath." You motioned towards the bathroom, where you were sure he could hear the water running. "Did you guys need me for something?" You tugged on your robe, pulling it tighter. They sure had shitty timing, you didn't want to waste a $6 bath bomb. You were pretty sure it was one of the ones with a toy in the middle too. "Aren't you coming?" Your face contorted in confusion. "You're the guest of honor [Y/N], we're celebrating you. Put on a nice dress and get downstairs, we're waiting."

You stood holding the door open for a second, Tony already leaving you to get ready. Celebrating you? What? You shut the door and turned to your closet, going blank. Did you even have anything nice? Frantically you rummaged, pulling out dress after dress, but everything was so informal. Nothing matched how Tony was dressed. "Shit. Why do I never go shopping for myself?" You cursed yourself out loud, reaching the back of your closet. There hung the only thing you could imagine being nice enough to wear.

You slipped the dress on, checking your reflection in the mirror. You frowned at your reflection, prodding at the places on yourself you were less than happy with. You were surrounded by physically perfect super soldiers and spies, you really couldn't compare physically and who wouldn't be a little self-conscious? You snapped out of it, throwing on heels, grabbing a clutch, and heading down the hall to meet the others. Tony had a limo waiting.

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[itsanoneg-blog]

You take me to a place I never want to leave

I had a whole post written out about the amazing weekend I had with my “friends”, and Carlos but I deleted everything. Because I don’t care about anyone anymore. The only person who is real, true and doesn’t fucking lie to my face is Carlos. And he is the only one who I enjoy talking to, the only one who makes me smile and laugh on a daily basis. I can have conversation after conversation with him, and not get annoyed by anything, because he isn’t a fake piece of shit. He isn’t stubborn, he just tells you how it is whether you want to hear it or not. Don’t sugar coat things, don’t tell me you’re going to do something but do the complete opposite. If anything, I need more people like Carlos in my life. I escaped high school but again I am back in high school drama because “friends” don’t know when to keep secrets. Anyways, I did have a great weekend. And usually I’d be so excited all week to see Carlos again on the weekend, but this week I can’t. The one week I need him most, and he will be in Montreal. So now I have to wait a whole other week to see him. I just need someone who isn’t fake, I am just tired of trying to help people out and having it slap me in the face. I cared most about three people, and I lost them all.

Anyways fuck everyone. Friday night was absolutely amazing. Carlos gave me two options that night, “You come over, we watch Pirates of the Caribbean (hint hint nudge nudge), then we go clubbing with my friends, or we go watch a movie. Your call”. Honestly, I just wanted a night in with him, since we never really get to have alone time. I was in desperate need of his cuddles, and bedroom talk. But this was good too. As long as I got to see him, spend time with him I was fine. I told him to decide because I didn’t want to be the reason he didn’t go out with his friends. I didn’t want to be that girl. He chose movies, and I asked him if that is what he really wanted as well. And he said it was, that he’s not too into the party mood anyways. I was happy about that decision, I really did not want to go clubbing. Didn’t want to go to the movies either but it worked out. Tomb Raider is such a good movie, but I don’t know if I paid more attention to the movie, or to Carlos. I drove us that night, and after the movie I wasn’t sure if he would want me to come inside or not. I knew his parents would be home, or be coming home soon, so I wasn’t sure if he wanted them seeing me. He ended up telling me to come in for a coffee. He made us Latte’s, and for two solid hours we sat at the kitchen table talking.

He opened up so much to me Friday night. I was about to cry at one point, and I just grabbed him and hugged him. He had a messed-up child hood moving from Canada, to Argentina and back to Canada again. His family had little to no money and were forced to stay in Canada by extended family members. He got bullied for not speaking solid English, and he told me how much kids hated him because he was fluent in Spanish and not English. Kids are brutal. I’m actually amazed at how much his family pulled through though. They have an amazing house, with a pool and a bar, own their own company, and they seem to be doing really well. He would not stop sharing family and childhood stories. It made me happy that he opened up about all that. He just kept going on and on about stories and started talking about all the projects he’s going to work on this summer. Such a nerd when he goes on a rant about making things out of metal. I started to just get lost as the conversation went on. Just watching him, looking into those grey eyes. I can stare at him all day, literally. I love when he says something and scrunches his face and gives me his side eyes. It’s the most attractive thing in the entire universe.

And right when I think this guy couldn’t be anymore perfect, he asks “Have you ever heard of IllScarlett?” Uhm, you mean the band that introduced me to rock music when I was in grade 7? Yeah, I used to love them before they split. They were the first band I saw in concert, even joined contests to meet them. And that’s were this story gets freaky. I lost the contest, but I remember voting for who I thought should win. I constantly, day after day voted for these two guys who designed a sign and hung it off the billboard. They should have won but placed second. Anyways Carlos goes on with his story “So my buddy and I designed a giant sign for a contest they were having. We placed second and I was pissed because right after we took the picture with the sign, I tried reaching for the ladder and fell right the fuck off the billboard.” First off all I could not stop laughing, because such a typical Carlos move. This guy needs to live in a bubble. I truly do not know how he hasn’t broken a god damn bone yet. Second, I said “You’re not going to believe me, but I actually joined that contest too, and voted day after day for you. You should have won that, what the fuck?” He was shocked, “Damn what a small fucking world but I can see it. If you listen to IllScarlett I’m sure you voted for me. Or was it because I was cute?” Like honestly, I don’t even remember the photo of the guys, I just remember the green sign with the album art work they made. It really freaked me out.

His parents ended up coming home as we were still talking, and my heart started to race. I didn’t know what to expect. Was he even going to introduce me? They don’t speak much English, so I knew they weren’t going to have a full conversation, but I was still nervous. He did introduce us though. His parents walked in and he said something in Spanish to his dad and said “Erica”. Like woah boy what did you say before my name? They said hello to me, smiled, and then said good-night. I mean it was 2am, they were definitely tired because I was tired as fuck but Mr.Chatty just kept telling me stories. I felt kind of insecure. His mom is gorgeous. She looks like Carlos’ younger brother, even though I think his brother is ugly. But man, Carlos really does resemble his dad. He showed me a picture of his dad when he was 26, and I thought it was him. Kind of freaky, his dad is not attractive now but jeez he was back in the day. They’re literal twins.

Friday was cute. Usually when we see each other we kiss right away. But when I first walked into his house, I didn’t pause for him to kiss me. I laughed at his wet hair and pajamas, but I walked away to put my nerdy glasses in my purse. And he walked up to me, as my head was down, and looked up at me, put his head under mine and kissed me. It was actually the cutest thing ever. I went home that night super happy for some reason and I was even happier knowing I was seeing him Saturday night too.

---

Saturday night was fine. Not even going to talk about anyone but Carlos because I could care less about my "friends" at the moment. I am just sick of everyone but him. Nothing exciting really happened, but being with him was great. I love how open he is around my friends too. When I first saw him I gave him a big hug. Honestly just wanted to wrap myself around him and never let go. Especially when he wears his orange beanie, it gets to me every time. He was so cute Saturday, held my hand for the first time, ever. Which to many people might not be something special, but to me it made me extremely happy. We never hold hands because I guess he's embarrassed, and I don't even know why. I could care less that his hands aren't soft. Being able to just hold his hand is great enough, and takes away from that. When ever he would walk with me through the pub, he would hold my hand. I was actually shocked. He was walking ahead of me, through the crowd of people and I wrapped my arms around his waist. It lasted until we started getting pushed even more, so he reached out for my hand. Knowing that he doesn't like holding hands, I held it like you would someone you're not into. Like a friendly hand holding. But he spread his fingers apart, and I just intertwined mine into his. UGH! I know why he's against holding hands because his hands are super rough but fuck I really don't care. I was so happy. Literally I dug my head into his back and smiled for a good ten seconds before we started moving.

That night before he got there I was there before him, so I had quite a bit to drink. He bought a pitcher for us and two of my other friends. First off I yelled at him because I wanted to pay, he shouldn't be paying for my friends. But he insisted, that fucker. Then he poured four drinks, and gave us each one. His was half empty and I looked at him and said "You aren't drinking that" and I gave him mine. He paid! Why should he have half a glass? That isn't fair. When I finished my beer, I started to drink some of my friends. Carlos grabbed it from me and said "nuh-uh, you're too drunk." I thought it was so cute. He cares about me! Secretly I was fan girling on the inside but on the out side I played it cool, "what I am not". Then after a bit he also poured me a glass of water, and said "drink this". Like can you get any fucking cuter? He's so great it's ridiculous. He's not super touchy in person which I completely get, but some times I wish he were. Not too extreme, but something.

Anyways, the night ended and when we all left he grabbed my hand again as we walked out with everyone and to his car. The car ride home was actually brutal. I had to pee so fucking bad, the worst. It pissed me off because I could barely get my good-bye kiss from him once he drove me home. He insisted to pull over, but he had his hand on my leg and I didn't want to pull over. Once he pulled into my drive way, he gave me a kiss, or two, or a make out session, (also The Afterglow by Silverstein came on and I just smiled like crazy) then paused and said go pee woman, goodnight. I ran inside. That feeling was terrible. But i couldn't stop smiling. I love his kisses, I love his hugs, I love holding his hands, I love everything about this guy. I can write a fucking novel on how amazing he is. It makes me sad that I probably won't be seeing him this weekend because he's going to Montreal with his buddies. But ugh, I just want to see him again. The weeks feel so long, and he's always busy in his shop during the week so we don't hang out. Hopefully he leaves Saturday so that I can spend Friday with him...

--

And today when I broke down and cried at work... I sent him a photo with the slightest tear drop in my eye. Literally you could only see it if you really looked. Within seconds he messages me back "Dafaq are you crying? What happened?!?!?!?!" This just made me smile, because like I said you could barely see the tear, but he noticed. He notices the slightest things, and I freaking adore him for that. I told him the entire situation, he was there to listen and he gave me advice. Honestly I was afraid to tell him about this "useless bullshit" that I was crying about, but he didn't judge and he managed to make me smile. Just like he always does. I didn't smile all day today until he messaged me and made everything better.

Still Dreaming by Silverstein <3