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chiliiscereal · 4 years ago

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Okay, apparently my brain has nothing better to do, so I got a SINGLE prompt for ya. U ready?

...✨Living with the turtles✨

Rottmnt headcanon: living with the turtles

———

-living with the turtles is both fun and... not XD

-lets be really, Mikeys an early bird!

-you simply can’t sleep in past 8 there’s just no way

-Mikey wakes up every morning like it’s Christmas

-“there’s stuff to do today! You can’t be a slug and stay in bed! Move move move!”

-lots of jumping on your bed until you wake up

-usually everyone eating breakfast together is not a thing, as everyone is usually doing their own thing

-but if you cook anything you better be ready for all the turtles to ask for some

-you’re also now the honorary judge for literally every single competition

-need someone to judge who can do the best kick flip?

-you’re their human

-need someone to see who can balance more fridge items on your chin?

-there you are

-lots of working with splinter in that field

-you’re also the one who anyone else goes to for validation

-for some reason you can’t understand, they can never compliment each other’s work

-“hey I need you to look this over, tell me if there’s anything wrong with it, possibly-.”

-“compliment you about your work?”

-“well, if you insist.”

-will drag you to his lab or drag his lab work to you so you can admire it

-doesn’t matter if you’re reading or sleeping

-when he’s ready for you to see it then you’re ready to see it

-“it’s literally 1 am.”

-“come on get up I need you to compliment my work!”

-“alright just stop pulling on me!”

-as for GIVING attention he’s not very good at it

-he’ll try, that’s for sure

-but heaven knows he won’t compliment you to your face

-the only physical affection you receive is if he goes to you first for help

-“I only need you because I need you to hold these wires and you have more fingers than you know what to do with.”

-it’s not just Donnie though.

-it’s Mikey as well

-“look at what I drew!”

-“wow this is awesome! How long did it take?”

-“oh... about an hour?”

-“that’s really good!”

-“really?”

-will even ask you to put it on the fridge

-you give in and get a bulletin board in your room for him to pin all his work

-it’s covered with his drawings by the end of the week

-needs lots and lots of hugs

-randomly jumps on your back for a piggy back ride

-you gotta be ready for him at any given moment or else you’re both gonna end up on the floor

-and who could forget Leo

-not you that’s for sure

-he’s make sure you’d never forget he needed attention

-Leo’s definetely the type of guy to get ready to pull a stunt and dedicate it to you before doing it

-“for Y/n’s honor!”

-“Leo you’re gonna break you’re neck if you do that!”

-“it’s for your honor so it’s okay!”

-jumps out from every corner to scare you

-can never seem to get you to flinch

-this boy’s gonna get you to jump one day though

-don’t be surprised if he walks up next to you and just casually rests his elbow on your head or drapes an arm over your shoulder

-will randomly poke your side just to see you jump

-Raphs no better than his brothers in the attention department

-especially with weight lifting

-“5...6...7 *notices you walk in* 37...38...39...”

-he doesn’t go around giving affection like Leo and Mikey though

-his love language is helping with anything you need, such as as helping you reach a high shelf

-very comfortable just picking you up and moving you out of the way

-doesn’t matter if it’s to get you out of danger or if you’re blocking his way to the pizza that just arrived

-only responsible roommate out of the four

-only one that washes the dishes

-video games all the time

-you can’t live with the turtles without liking video games

-you and Mikey bake and cook all the snacks for video game night

-of course, Leo also has a rivalry with you

-not one like the old rivalry between Leo and Raph in other versions no no

-it’s the playful “hey wanna take me in hockey? I bet I’ll wiiiiinnnn~” or “I’m gonna best you at this and you’re gonna go crying to splinter!”

-winner gets bragging rights

- you also can’t live in the lair without being besties with April

-come on, she’s cool as hell!

-she’s the one you talk to about human problems or just complaining about the turtles in general

-nosey boys

-very very nosey

-there’s no way to have secrets in this lair

-you have a diary?

-expect Leo to go through it in one night

-you read fanfiction or write fanfiction?

-oh Donnies keeping tabs on each chapter

-he’s updated all your tech, he can definetely see what you look up and access it from his computer

-hey, living with them isn’t always going to be sunshine and rainbows

-you’ll always find Mikey in your room admiring any decorations or books

-he’s constantly borrowing your stuff and not asking

-Raph is probably the only one that understands personal space

-...unless it comes to him worrying about you when you leave the lair

-will text you all the time, asking if you’re okay, even if you’re just hanging with a friend or going to the store

-since they always invade your privacy, they always know if you aren’t feeling okay

-the moment you step foot in the lair they’re asking what happened

-and if you try to say there’s nothing wrong oh ho ho ho you’re in for it

-Donnie is pulling up articles, Mikey is bugging you, Leo is trying to activate his face man powers, and Raph is sitting in front of you and asking what’s up

- the only privacy invading they do that you actually enjoy is when you’re in your room at like, midnight, watching a movie

-you’ll be watching peacefully and then Mikey just appears in the doorway

-he’s got blankets and he’s got snacks

-you just wave him over and let him sit on your bed

-then Leo shows up, no offering other than his presence

-don’t bother trying to push him away he’s gonna watch that movie with you and Mikey even if it kills him

-once you three are settled, Donnie shows up with a movie projector so you don’t have to watch on a tiny phone

-he ends up staying, even though he denied that he would

-Raph shows up with pillows for everyone, the only turtle to actually ASK to join

-you can’t say no to the giant teddy bear

-you may have started off by yourself in your dark room but you ended in a giant cuddle puddle with your roommates

-sometimes though you don’t have time to hang out with them

-school

-school happens

-you have to deny them because of homework

-Mikey will help you with flash cards, decorating them so they’re fun and make learning interesting

-Donnie studies with you and probably knows the material better

-he’ll help you so it’ll be over faster

-Raph is simply your company

-he’ll sit quietly in your room and play relaxing music, offering any advice or comments he had

-Leo just tries to convince you to ignore it

-it’ll still be there tomorrow! As of right now, he needs you to watch the skating tournament with him

-once you’ve got everything done you’re immediately dragged into whatever shenanigans they’ve got going on

-you’re also the self appointed camera man, using your phone to capture every harebrained plan AND failure

-living with them isn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but it sure is never boring

Sorry this is all I got!

If anyone has any headcanon or oneshot requests send em my way!

#wattpad #fanfic #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt raph #rottmnt oneshots #rottmnt leo #rottmnt imagine #rottmnt headcannons #rottmnt donnie #rott spoilers #rottmnt movie #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt x reader

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dw-writes · 4 years ago

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Midnight Marathons - Stiles Stlinski x Reader

ey, look, another depression fic. why? because i can.

I hope you guys enjoy this!

Stiles didn’t realize the time until his phone buzzed next to his laptop, drawing his attention to the screen, the time, and then your text.

‘Are you still up?’ you asked. His phone buzzed against shortly after he replied, not even giving him a chance to stretch out in his desk chair. ‘Open the window?’

“The window?” he muttered. He turned to it far too fast, almost launching himself out of the chair, then shoved the window open with a grunt. Your head popped up over the side, and he jumped. “Seriously? You couldn’t have told me you were here before you started to climb up here?” he asked as he stepped back.

You shifted on the roof outside, pushing your legs in and dropping down to the floor. “Nope,” you answered, “Mostly because I didn’t think of that.”

“Yeah.” He reached around you to shut the window, swatting at a mosquito that had followed you inside. “I noticed.” His hand gave your arm a squeeze when he was finished chasing the bug. “You okay?” he asked, “You’re never out this late.”

You shrugged, taking a moment to pulling off your shoes, then sat on the edge of his bed. He didn’t bother to close his laptop as he sat next to you, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I dunno,” you sighed. You sat further back on his bed, pulling one leg up to your chest. “No?”

His hand dropped to his lap with an audible clap, then waved around as he asked, “Wanna talk about it?”

“About why I’m not okay?” you replied. He nodded. “Not really.”

“So, why are you here?” You arched an eyebrow at the blunt question. He stuttered, his hands coming up as he bounced slightly on the bed, adjusting his legs beneath him. “Not that I don’t like that you’re here! Especially now – I mean, do you know how many times I’ve had a dream that had you coming to my room this late at night? Like dozens, probably more, that’s not the point.” You rolled your lips together as a soft chuckle pushed through your nose, your cheeks burning as he continued. “People don’t normally show up to another person’s house at midnight to not talk, you know?” He shoved his hands through his hair again. “Unless its, like, a booty call. Is this? Is this a booty call?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes and shoved your foot against his knee, ignoring the burn that grew hotter in your face. “No, Stiles.”

His hands fluttered between you. “Then?”

You shrugged and fell back against his pillows, dropping your feet into his lap with a sigh. “I just didn’t wanna be alone. My mind keeps running away from me and my sister’s asleep and I didn’t wanna bother her, and I don’t like being alone when my mind gets like this,” you answered.

Your feet were shoved off his lap as he huffed and crawled up next to you, flopping on his side to watch your face. You rubbed at your cheeks to make sure it was free of any moisture that had been running down your face an hour ago. He waited, staying quiet as you composed yourself, wiggling until he was more comfortable. One of his hands slid under the pillow you rested on. Your rolled towards him once you were satisfied, shoving a hand under your pillow to tangle your fingers with his. He drew your interlaced hands from beneath your head into the space between you both. “What do you wanna talk about then?” he finally asked.

You gave him a weak, one shouldered shrug. “Anything?” you offered, “Anything but bullshit running through my mind right now.”

Stiles rolled his lips together as he thought, pushing himself up enough to look around his room. “You wanna watch the OG Star Trek? It’s on Hulu,” he offered. He flopped back down to watch you. “Or we can watch Star Trek: Beyond. I know how much you like that movie.”

You nodded. “You know what? I’d like that a lot,” you whispered, “But only if we watch I, Mudd first.”

He snorted, his head rocking back against the pillows. “What am I, an idiot? Of course we’ll start with I, Mudd, it’s the best episode ever.”

“Amok Time is a close one, too,” you argued.

Stiles shoved himself up, waving a hand in your direction as he shuffled towards the end of the bed. “You wanna borrow some clothes? My lacrosse sweatshirt is clean.”

You took your time sitting up. You dug through his closet for the aforementioned hoodie, taking an extra long minute to search for a pair of gym shorts as you shucked off your tee-shirt and jeans. The bedroom door creaked as you were changing, and when you turned back around, Stiles was gone. You peeked out into the hallway to see that a light downstairs was on, and the faint rummaging of him searching for something reached your ears.

You turned back around and pulled his laptop over to the bed, situating yourself under the blankets. He’d already pulled up the Hulu tab, with the episode ready to play. You swiped a finger under your eye as tears started to form, then balled the ends of the sleeves up in your fists and shoved them against your face.

There was a reason you always went to Stile when your mind ran a mile a minute. He’d always get you out of your head, be it with talking, or sitting with you, or watching something, or sharing the latest weird werewolf adventure with you. He really knew how to give you the time for your thoughts to settle, even when you didn’t realize that they needed to, so that you could sort through them when you were fully prepared to do so. He’d even listen when you were having the kind of day where you really needed someone to work through your thoughts with you.

The whole thing made you tear up again, something you’d been really wanting to avoid since you first started crying over an hour ago.

“Hey, so, I have chips, I have soda, I have water, I have cookies!” He bounded into the room, his arms ladened with snacks and drinks as he beamed. “I’m ready for a marathon. Are you?”

You sniffled and wiped your face. His grin faltered, shrinking in size as he took in your red eyes. You held out a hand and grabbed at the air. “Those look suspiciously like my favorite chips,” you muttered.

He looked down at the bag in the crook of his elbow, making his way over to you. “Yeah, obviously,” he replied, voice just as soft as yours. You took the bag as he sat down. He spread the snacks out around the computer, then grabbed a pillow to place it on so it was easier to see. He glanced at you as he made the episode full screen. “If you wanna talk about it,” he whispered. His voice trailed off with an unspoken statement.

You nodded. “I know,” you said. You looked up at him. He was close enough for you to see the shadows under his eyes. “Not right now, though,” you added.

He nodded. “Course.” He scooted closer to you under the blanket, offering you his shoulder to lean on as he pressed place. “Just lemme know,” you whispered.

“I will.”

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x gn reader

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leejeongz · 5 years ago

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cravity reaction to you giving them the silent treatment

🔅thank you for reading my work and following! and than you for requesting! i wrote this like giving them the silent treatment, as you can tell, because i’m not sure what other context you would ignore them in🥺 i hope you don’t mind! and not all of them are serious hehe🔅

serim:

reason for the silent treatment: you were jealous when you saw him talking to the stylists and sitting real close to them

he tried his damned hardest to not give in to you. this lasted for quite a while this time actually, an hour maybe? then he started feeling empty. he hadn’t hugged you or bugged you for a whole hour, even you were getting concerned at this point. he came over to you while you were washing your bowl and pan from lunch, standing behind you for a few seconds before deciding to poke your cheek. you tried to ignore him at first, then you tried swatting his hand away.

“i’m not moving it until you talk to me!” he exclaimed. you knew the annoying smile he’d have on his face right now that you couldn’t resist so you chose not to look at him, instead you concentrated on putting the wet dishes on the drying rack. “i can do this all day”

he really wasn’t lying, you wouldn’t put that past him, so you just chose to give up, it was easier than having a clingy serim around you all day. (you get that anyway but what can u do?)

“you should eat” you said quietly. serim smiled at you in response and removed his finger.

“you’re right, maybe i will go grab something with the stylists” he joked, risking another hour of the silent treatment. he was so lucky that you could take a joke.

allen:

reason for the silent treatment: he forgot your 1 year anniversary (this got a lil deep for some reason, kinda angsty, just a warning)

he started by giving you as much attention as possible. usually you’d be loving the skinship and cuddles, but right now you didn’t want to even see his face. you swatted his hands away and stormed off to your room. he sat back on the sofa, eyes and mouth both wide. he’d never seen you like this before. his head soon fell into his hands, which rested on his knees. once the first tear fell, it was soon followed by dozens more. it made him even weaker knowing you were probably crying too. he didn’t know whether to come to you or not but he decided to stay put for a little longer. after a few minutes, he saw your feet across the carpet and lifted his head, apologising profusely as he did so. you sat beside him, and looked at him, which he reciprocated almost immediately. he grabbed your hands instinctively but not before wiping a tear from your right cheek.

“do you care?” you asked.

“of course i care. i care about you, about us, i care a lot.” he pleaded, tears starting to burn at his cheeks.

“okay” you said, licking a tear from lips and nestling into his side.

he wrapped his arm around you and sniffled some more before asking if there was any way he could make it up to you.

jungmo:

reason for the silent treatment: you failed an exam and you think it’s because he kept distracting you while revising

he couldn’t help himself, he just HAD to follow you around like a lost puppy. he tried his best to apologise, knowing it was the easiest thing to do even if he wasn’t guilty, but it just made you ignore him even more, not even giving him the advantage of reading your face. honestly, his incessant following was cute, but he could never know that.

“y/n please” he begged from behind you as you made your way to the bathroom. “don’t make me come in there too” he tried to make light of the situation.

you turned and stood against the closed bathroom door, now looking at him from across the hallway. you raised your eyebrow and he started to talk once again.

“i didn’t realise what i was doing, i just wanted to spend time with you, i will never do it again, if i do you can shout at me, i’m kidding please don’t do that ,i would cry, i know you wouldn’t ever-“ you stopped him with a kiss. you hated how he had you WHIPPED for him, but you wouldn’t really have it any other way.

“i won’t you idiot, although i may accidentally purposely back my chair into you, gently of course” you joked “now can i please go in here… alone?”

woobin:

reason for the silent treatment: he used your toothbrush

“you changed yours to the exact same colour as mine, it was going to happen on day anyway” he announced, rolling his eyes while walking to the cupboard to get himself a different toothbrush. “where are they?” he shouted to you.

you chose not to respond and that’s when he knew he was currently experiencing the dreaded silent treatment. normally he’d be quite thankful for some peace and quiet but the circumstances weren’t great so...

“oh brilliant, how mature of you” he slammed the door to the cupboard shut, still being careful not to damage it though. “you know it’s not going to get you anywhere” he once again rolled his eyes. “i’m going to my room, see you at dinner, sweetheart”. and that’s exactly when you saw him next. he was so stubborn sometimes, you had to give in else you’d never talk to him again.

“here” you tossed him a new toothbrush while he was close to the sink.

“this is still the same colour th-“

“ITS ROMANTIC WOOBIN” you shouted.

“from one extreme to another, clearly” he laughed, throwing you the toothbrush back. “now how about we be romantic in that restaurant down the street?”

wonjin:

reason for the silent treatment: he ate without you

“i swear i won’t do it again” he pleaded in his final words before giving up and slumping his way to his room, leaving you cooking your meal for one.

you wouldn’t normally be this mad about him eating without you, you didn’t even live together, it was just that today you’d planned to have dinner together but you were an hour late due to traffic. surely he could have waited an extra 60 minutes, right?

wonjin threw himself on the bed, sulking for 5 seconds then convincing himself he was in the right all along and acting like nothing was wrong. he pulled out his phone and started playing a game, one that he knew he would spend hours on if he started playing it. half way through the first round, something clicked in his brain. why was he sitting here neglecting you when he owes an apology? he composed himself and made his way back out to the kitchen, ready to start his begging for forgiveness.

“okay so sometimes... sometimes you can be unreasonable” great start, you thought, rolling your eyes “but on this occasion, i think your reaction is justified. take as long as you want, i’ll be standing right here” he said, mimicking a “rooting in place” action by twisting his feet on the laminate flooring.

minhee:

reason for the silent treatment: he accidentally recycled a piece of your homework

“how was i supposed to know you needed this stupid map?” he questioned. but you didn’t respond. instead you just went to his room and sulked, in silence. he followed and stood in the doorway, firing questions at you for the next 5 minutes before huffing and leaving you to sulk alone. he knew he was the mature one here, but he still felt guilty for what he did so 10 minutes later he came back to you and tried again, this time calmer and more willing to listen.

“i can help you do it again” he insisted “but i’m not that great at drawing maps” he admitted. you turned away from him. he probably thought you were just continuing the silent treatment but really, you were trying your hardest not to laugh.

“you know i just printed that out right? i didn’t draw that” you whispered, giving in.

“are you saying i just endured the silent treatment for a map that took seconds to print out? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” he shouted jokingly, sitting at his computer and bringing up an identical map. “here, print.” he grabbed it off the printer and realised yet another issue “you also used MY printer ink. i should have give myself the silent treatment for wasting ink like that.”

hyeongjun:

reason for the silent treatment: he killed you first in among us

hyeongjun thought it was a joke at first, it was just a game after all it's not that serious.

“you can still do your ghost tasks” he mimicked.

you did NOT find this funny. he made you look like a fool in front of your friends, surely your boyfriend isn’t supposed to kill you first, you thought. you pressed the home button on your phone, automatically leaving the game, and turned your phone back to portrait. you scrolled through your home screens for a while, looking like you were doing something important in hopes it would make hyeongjun jealous but he was too engrossed in the game. it wasn’t until you threw your phone on the bed and got up that he realised you’d left.

“you left the game? why? oh you’re gonna get snacks? can you get me those chocolate jazzle things you bought for us please?” he asked, still engrossed in the game.

you rolled your eyes and let out a very loud “ugh” which he didn’t even bat an eyelid at. you returned with the chocolates in your hand which got his attention, but instead of handing them to him, you ate them and looked like you were enjoying them.

“i’m SO sorry i killed you y/n” he rolled his eyes as you did earlier, but you pretended to not hear him, just as he did.

this went on until he, as the imposter, lost the game, and you couldn’t help but laugh in his face.

taeyoung:

reason for the silent treatment: he laughed at you for getting scared during a horror movie

you hit his chest and got up in a huff. how dare he laugh at you when you were genuinely scared?! the sound of his laugh was always nice, always except now, it just annoyed you. you went to the fridge to grab some of his snacks, the first time you did this without politely asking for permission. he never minded that you wanted food, he wished you’d just get them yourself, you didn’t have to ask, what was his was yours, so you took advantage of that but it really didn’t feel right.

“hey the movie hasn’t finished yet!” he shouted, turning over and seeing you scan his fridge. “there’s nothing in there, i’m the only snack in this place” he said, flipping back over. “oh and you, of course”. you narrowed your eyes and bobbed your head sarcastically behind him, as if you were mimicking what he said. you sat back down again empty handed, this time sitting on the single chair that was far from him.

“oh what’s wrong? you think you’re strong enough to sit alone? you don’t need me anymore?” he laughed once again. you just concentrated on the screen, your heart beating faster than ever before, hoping no scares were coming up.

“okay okay i’ll stop. now please come over here and cuddle me because i think he’s gonna do something again and i don’t want you to be scared on your own.”

you contemplated his preposition for a little, the tv making your decision for you when the music started getting louder and you felt the need for someone’s arms around you.

seongmin:

reason for the silent treatment: he spent the whole of your day off napping

“what’s for dinner?” he asked sleepily. his eyes opened to your figure, stood over him, your arms were folded and lips were sealed shut in a sort of angry pout. “what?” he questioned.

you yanked you duvet from him and threw it on the floor now giving you the perfect opportunity to grab your teddy that he’d slept with and leave. but that boy was gripping on to your teddy for dear life it seemed, he wasn’t letting go. “what are you doing? i can’t explain if you won’t tell me what’s wrong. and i’m not giving up lolly llama until you tell me”.

“just give me the llama seongmin” you broke your silence.

“is it because i slept all day?” when the words left his mouth, you stopped fighting for the teddy, you stopped leaning over him, you stopped trying to hide what had been getting to you all day. “because if it is i’m sorry, i woke up today with a really bad headache and i didn’t want to worry you.” he pointed to the tablets and headache strips on the side.

“is it-” you paused to look at him “is it better now?” you asked, knowing the best treatment for a headache was sleep.

“a lot better” he smiled in your direction “i am prepared to pull an all nighter with my favourite person now”

gifs aren’t mine

#cravity #cravity imagines #cravity reactions #serim #allen #jungmo #woobin #wonjin #minhee #hyeongjun #taeyoung #seongmin

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worldwidemochiguy · 6 years ago

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Yandere! bts reactions — You’re scared of a bug

Namjoon

“Namjoon-oppa!”

Namjoon glanced up at you from the file he was perusing to see your eyes blown wide with fear.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He asked, already standing up.

“There’s a bug under a cup in the kitchen… can you get rid of it? Please?” Namjoon smirked at your desperate tone.

“Of course I will, darling, but first, let’s negotiate what you will do for me in return.”

“Oppa!” You whined, “Please just get it out of the house! I really hate bugs.”

“If you hate them so much, then surely you’ll be willing to do something to ensure I get rid of them properly.”

“Um… I could… make dinner for us tonight?”

“I’m expecting something a little more than that.”

“…I could give you a ‘thank you’ shoulder massage?”

Namjoon sighed.

“I mean of a sexual nature, darling.”

“Oh!” Your lips formed into a circle as you blushed, and Namjoon was inspired.

“Perhaps you can put those sweet lips of yours-“ he muttered, reaching a finger up to tug your bottom lip downwards, “to use, huh, darling?”

“And you’ll get rid of the bug if I do?” You tried to say, though it was difficult with his finger in your mouth.

“I promise, darling.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, before sinking to your knees. Namjoon smirked. He always got what he wanted in the end.

Jin

“You look so cute like that, jagi.”

You didn’t look at him, tear-filled eyes still fixed on the spider making its way up your blanket. You hadn’t expected much to happen when Jin went to the kitchen to make some more popcorn — after all, what movie night is complete without popcorn? — but you had screamed, bringing him running back into the room when you noticed the spider crawling inexorably towards your face.

You were deeply afraid of spiders. This was one of the first things Jin had learnt about you. He had gallantly offered to get rid of a spider that was on your coat during your first date. You wish he still did those kinds of things.

“Jin, please, please, just get rid of it.” You whispered, prompting Jin to laugh.

“But you look so sweet like this. So scared, it’s adorable. I want to see this face more often.”

You choked on a sob as the spider inched closer to you. It was now less than an inch away.

“Jin, stop being an asshole and just fucking get rid of it!” You yelled suddenly, desperate to get the thing off you. You knew immediately it was the wrong decision when Jin tensed up.

Without another word on his part — the only words spoken by you were frantic apologies and excuses — he strode over and caught the spider in his palm.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, tha-“ Jin stooped your grateful rambling with a sharp glance.

“Now,” he muttered, focusing on the spider in his palms as if he was talking to it. “How shall I use you to punish her for her behaviour?”

You gasped, “No, Jin, please don’t- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- Jin please just take it away, please.”

Jin only looked at you and smiled.

Yoongi

You knew flies probably weren’t capable of emotion, but that didn’t stop the fruit fly trapped in the upside down transparent cup you imprisoned it in giving you a baleful glance.

So what? You didn’t like bugs, it wasn’t not a big deal. You just wanted it out of the house.

You strolled into Yoongi’s office where he was deeply focused on his work, headphones covering his ears.

“Babe!” You shouted, but you might as well have said, “I want a divorce!” Because your husband wouldn’t have heard you either way.

Sighing exasperatedly, you moved to the wall and yanked out the power cable connected to his computer. The screen winked off and you watched Yoongi panic for a second, making you feel a bit guilty, before his eyes followed the now-lax power cable and found you standing sheepishly at the end of it.

“What?” He snarled, yanking off his headphones.

“I… uh, there’s a bug. In the kitchen. Under a cup.” With each halting sentence, his glare became more withering. “Could you get rid of it, please?”

He growled, but did get up, stalking towards you and yanking the power cable out of your hand and plugging it back in.

“Since you asked so nicely, I will, but afterwards, I’m coming back here to punish you for disturbing me. Got that, babe?”

Hoseok

“Aish, sunshine, you’re so cute!”

“Hoseok! Please just get it out of- ah it’s coming for me again!” You squealed, hiding behind Hoseok’s body as the moth attempted another dive-bomb. Your boyfriend was hardly suitable cover, given how hard he was laughing.

“I really hate moths! Please just get rid of it.” You whimpered, plastering yourself against Hoseok’s back and he took pity on you, turning around so he could encase you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, sunshine, but you’re just so cute like this! But I shouldn’t have laughed, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok- AH!” You screamed as you saw the moth come flying straight for you again, your head made an easy target propped up by Hoseok’s shoulder.

You buried your face in his chest and let out a little sob, ignoring the way his shoulders shook in poorly restrained laughter.

“It’s ok, baby, I have an idea!” Hoseok told you, before reaching out to switch off the light. The only light was now provided by the open window through which the sun spilled into the shadowy room. You were just able to discern the shadow of the moth as it darted out.

“Thank you!” You burst out, before covering your boyfriends face in kisses wherever you could reach. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best boyfriend in the whole world!”

Hoseok accepted your gratitude with a sunny smile and his own kisses in reply to yours.

“It’s ok baby, but honestly I do feel bad for the moth.”

“What? Why? It kept flying at my face, it was definitely evil.” You insisted, and Hoseok’s grin grew until his eyes turned into crinkled crescents.

“He was probably so confused, he was torn between the brightest, most radiant sun to exist… and some random ball of fire in the sky.”

You were worried the moth might come back, for you were pretty certain your cheeks were glowing so intensely as you blushed that they had just become the brightest thing for miles around.

Jimin

You felt a slight itch on your leg. For a while you ignored it, determined to finish the chapter of the book you were engrossed in, but the itching feeling persisted until, finally, you caved and reached down.

But what met your finger was not smooth skin, but something weird and fuzzy. It was predominantly shock that made you scream when you saw the spider on your leg. You had never really been that scared of bugs, but you certainly hadn’t been expecting one to be chilling out on your ankle.

After the brief moment of shock, you shrugged and brushed it off you. However, that was not going to be the only shock you received. You heard a distant crashing, and then thumping footsteps drawing closer and closer, until the door was thrown open.

“Get off her!” Jimin screeched as he burst into the room, dressed in his pyjamas and bathrobe. He looked around frantically, his body sunken into a karate stance, trying to identify the threat, before realising there was none.

“Baby, are you alright? What happened?” He rushed to you, frantically checking all over your body and ignoring your stream of ‘I’m fine, I’m okay, it was nothing.”

He rushed to the window, wrenching it open and leaning out. For one horrible second, you thought he might throw himself out, but he was only looking around to see if your possible assailant had somehow escaped through there.

“Running away like a coward, huh? I’ll get you! You’ll die for even touching her!” Jimin screamed, even as you tugged desperately on his robe, urging him back inside.

“Jimin, Jimin, Jimin,” You repeated over and over, trying to catch his wild gaze, “It’s ok, it was nothing, no one hurt me, I just got scared by a bug! That’s it!”

“T-that’s it?” Jimin paused, seeming uncertain even as you nodded.

After a moment of stillness, he crumpled, pulling you into him so tightly you could barely breathe.

“Ah, baby! Don’t ever do that again! I was so worried about you! Never let me hear you scream like that again, you understand? My heart can’t take it!”

Taehyung

“It’s not funny!” You cried at Taehyung’s phone as he recorded you with it.

“You’re wrong there, baby, it is very funny!” He crowed, almost dropping his phone in another hoot of laughter as you screamed again. The bug had just crawled onto your forehead.

You were deathly afraid of insects, something that Taehyung had never been afraid to tease you about. Even now, with tears streaming down your face and an expression of betrayal, Taehyung was filming you with glee, probably to use for blackmail material or to put in a photo album to cheer him up when he was down.

“Taehyung, please! You’ve filmed me enough, can’t you just — ah! It moved again! — can you please just get it off me!” You sobbed, and Taehyung sighed deeply and pressed the hand that wasn’t holding his phone against his heart.

“Hearing you plead like that really is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.” You screamed again, and he smirked. “Apart from your scream, of course.”

“P-please!” You wailed, and it seemed like Taehyung had a change of heart. Still holding up his phone, he moved closer to you and reached up a hand. You felt the bug, which was now inching its way towards your eyebrow, twitch in apprehension.

With one finger, Taehyung reached out and squished the bug against your skin.

“There you go, baby. You’re welcome.”

You screamed again.

“Taehyung! That’s disgusting! I just wanted you to get it off me! Why would you do that?”

“I already told you,” Taehyung smirked, “Your scream is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I wish I could listen to it all day.”

His laughter chased you as you ran to the bathroom to wash off the mangled remains of bug mashed against your skin.

Jungkook

When Jungkook came home to find you sat on the couch scrolling through Netflix, he was surprised to say the least.

He had texted you to let you know he was going to be stuck at work until the early hours of the morning, and made you promise to go to bed without him so that you would get enough sleep. Now he found you disobeying his orders, but something still puffed up inside him in pleasure, knowing that you didn’t want to go to bed without him.

“I thought I told you to go to bed.” was Jungkook’s greeting. Once you realised he was there — you didn’t see him at first because you were so exhausted — you brightened considerably, getting up from your nest of blankets to hug him. He accepted it, tugging you into his arms for a moment, before pulling back to fix you with a stern glance.

“Princess, you need to get enough sleep.”

“I did try!” You protested, and Jungkook had to stop himself from cooing at your sleepy voice. “There was a fly buzzing around the bedroom and it bothered me so much I had to come out here.”

“A bug was bothering you?” Jungkook glowered, “Not for long, Princess. Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of it for you and then we can go to bed together.”

“My hero!” You giggled, pecking his cheek.

He smiled at you fondly, before advancing to the shut bedroom, a rolled up newspaper as ammunition and a fierce expression on his face. No one messed with his Princess and survived, not even bugs were safe from Jeon Jungkook’s wrath.

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pbjpuppy · 5 years ago

Photo

Walks

I’ve been going on a lot of walks recently.

‘Cause, y’know being in the house all the time isn’t really good for you. Like, y’know, cabin fever and stuff? Plus, we just did this unit in science- through the computer, they’re calling it distance learning- about indoor air pollution, and how the air inside a home can be multiple times more polluted than outside air, and how most people spend most of their time indoors (90%!), which really makes sitting in my bedroom for long periods of time kind of unappealing.

I don’t always like staying in my room anyway. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I spend most of my time in there like any other teenager does, and it’s great! I love my room. I’m even lucky enough to have my own instead of having to share it with a sibling like some people do. But still, even if you live in paradise it’s a prison if you can’t leave, so I don’t stay in there all the time. Sometimes I just wander around my house in circles instead. Or sit in my dad’s room.

Anyway- walks. Lots of them. One every day is the new routine, unless I get lazy, which has happened once or twice and I always regret it. To the end of the block, which intersects the road in a “T” shape, then I turn to the right and walk all the way until the sidewalk ends (Through the old elementary school’s parking lot- I’m always worried security will yell at me, but so far I’ve been peacefully ignored), then I turn back and walk all the way past my block again to the other end of the sidewalk, then home. It’s not the most scenic route; I live in the suburbs of Long Island and all the trees are dead because it’s only just turned April, and all there is to see is houses and road.

I keep myself entertained, though. There’s actually a lot to see if you really look. Nothing extraordinary, but that’s kind of what I like about it. I keep my eyes to the ground a lot, and you see a lot of litter on the ground: Cups, cans, cigarette boxes, packs of tissues, chicken wire, caution tape, strange boxy wooden contraptions that look busted and have been abandoned. Once I even saw an unopened condom. It’s an environmental nightmare, of course, but for the arrogant human on her walk it provides plenty of brain food. For every piece of trash there was a living, breathing human who held it, who used it, who discarded it. I wonder what they’re like and if I’ll ever meet them, what they’re up to. If they’re alive right now.

There’s not much that’s all too impressive in terms of nature, like I said, but it’s still outside, and I’ve seen a bunch of interesting nature-y things, too. On my first walk, I found a chunk of a wasp’s nest, half-rotted. Recently I found a bird’s nest too, and I wanted to go pick it up, but it was in somebody’s yard and I didn’t want to get yelled at for trespassing. Just today I passed right through a murder of crows, kind of. They were perched in a group on the trees and telephone wires, and their croaking startled me out of my daydreaming to admire them. I’ve seen a lot of things that look like bones that aren’t bones, and one time I saw something that looked like a bone that actually was a bone.

The one natural thing I don’t see on my walks is humans. Not one in a week. I would have expected to see at least one person walking their dog or something, or just doing work in the yard. I mean, everybody else has to be as restless as I am inside, right? But no, no people to be seen. That’s okay, though. The sidewalk is narrow, I like not having to share it. It also means I can text while I walk and not worry about bumping into someone. Plus, I guess it’s been kind of yucky out weather-wise. By the time I get home from my walks my nose is usually pink and runny from the cold.

I live with two other people, my dog, my cat, and my two pet rats. That makes seven living things and three living humans. The house is quiet a lot of the time. My brother and I are both teenagers- I’m seventeen, he’s nineteen- and we spend a lot of time in our rooms. My dad is usually working, or out of the house. He likes to go over to his girlfriend’s house a lot, or out to the city for the weekend before… Everything happened, and I’ll take care of myself for the evening and the following day or so. Sometimes it’s longer than that. I don’t hear from my brother those days, he makes his own food. Sometimes I’ll be home alone and won’t even realize until I walk past his bedroom and see it’s been empty this whole time.

My dad’s been away a lot this week, I think. And my brother’s been quiet. I think he’s told me he doesn’t feel well. That’s okay. I can take care of myself well enough and I think I have people online to talk to. My dog barks a lot, that’s kind of like conversation. Plus, I have Animal Crossing, that game where you live on an island with a bunch of little animal people? It’s really cute, I love it. I talk to the animals on Animal Crossing. I don’t mind being alone.

I’m on a walk, and my fingers and nose are cold and pink. I have an umbrella, but I don’t actually need it. It’s not raining anymore, the wind is just moist and cold. It’s dangling from my wrist. I liked playing tug-of-war with my umbrella against the wind, but the wind won, and my umbrella turned inside out, so I stopped. I’m coming back from the right side of the T.

There’s lots of evidence of humans. There’s so much litter, pieces of trash that somebody was holding and let go of and now it’s on the ground. I thought I smelled weed before, which is gross, but that means that somebody somewhere was smoking it, somewhere nearby. There’s graffiti on the street signs.

There’s lots of cars on the road, too. I don’t know where they’re going. Nobody’s really supposed to be going anywhere right now, I think. We’re supposed to be staying home, that’s what I was told. Maybe they’re going to get groceries. You’re allowed to go get groceries. All of them are getting groceries.

Going to school online is a weird and kind of stressful experience, by the way, did I mention that? I’ve never done anything like homeschooling, I’ve always gone to public school my whole life, ever since I went to the old elementary school that I have to pass through on my walks. I’m used to structure. There’s this bell that drones at the end of every class, and when you hear the bell you get up and shuffle to your next class, forty-two minutes every class period. I’m used to that. Now they’re so far away. The classes, I mean, like, the concept of them. It’s just kind of a vague idea that there’s work I should be doing, now. I’ve been doing okay. I set alarms every forty-two minutes and pretend I’m going to class.

I still haven’t seen a single human. I’ve been looking into the windshields of the cars as I walk and I still haven’t seen a single one. I don’t know who these cars are trying to fool, you can’t drive a car if there’s nobody in the driver’s seat. That’s impossible. But I haven’t seen a single human. Super-smart cars, maybe. I think I’ve heard about those on the news, right? Sometime before everything happened. They’re sending their cars to get groceries.

I walk past the cemetery if I want to walk farther than usual. Usually my walk stops me right by the cemetery. I like ghosts and spooky things so I like living so close to a cemetery. It’s a nice cemetery, too. I don’t go in it very much, the only dead person I know wasn’t buried in the cemetery and I don’t want to intrude on anybody who’s grieving their loved one. Walks aren’t that important and I have a different route. I don’t think I would find anybody in the cemetery, but I’m going to go home anyway. I’ve been walking for a long time.

I think a lot on my walks. My mind wanders. I do it on purpose, actually, I put on my music and let my mind wander while I walk. I like to draw and write stories, and letting my mind wander while I walk is good for inspiration. I’ve been thinking about humans and cars and crows. The crows fly away when I walk near them. I wonder if the humans are like crows and that’s why I can’t see them. Maybe I did something wrong and everybody’s avoiding me. Maybe everyone’s too busy getting groceries to be in their cars. It must be a lot of groceries.

My dad has been away a lot this week. I want to tell him about the bugs I caught in Animal Crossing. I don’t know if I’ve seen him in a while. I thought I said goodbye to him yesterday. Yesterday it was snowing, when I said goodbye. It wasn’t snowing yesterday. I wish he’d get back from whatever he’s doing. I hope he brings me back something from the grocery store.

My brother hasn’t been feeling well. He wants me to leave him alone, I think. I think he said that, and that’s why he’s not in his room. He doesn’t want me to bother him, I think. He hasn’t been feeling well for a long time. He’s such a complainer. There’s mold in the food he left in his room.

Online school is so frustrating. I’m really not good at math, and I tried to message my teacher about an exponents question, but he hasn’t been replying to me. I skipped the math problems, I think, and I can’t find the right website we’re supposed to be doing them on. I can’t find the app on my phone I used to text my teacher. I’m so forgetful. I forgot to text him, I think.

This wouldn’t be happening if everything hadn’t happened. If we were in school, I’d be able to raise my hand and ask the teacher in person about my math question. And there would be other students, too. But we have to stay home. Everyone has to stay home.

I don’t know why we have to stay home. I thought somebody told me. I can’t remember. I know everybody has to stay home. The government said so or something. That’s why I can’t find anybody. Everybody’s at home.

My dad isn’t answering his phone. I want to know when he’ll be home. He’s not supposed to be out. I forgot my dad’s number, I think. I’m going to walk to the grocery store. It’s getting dark out now, but I think I need to go. I’m going to see what all the fuss is about. Everyone’s at the grocery store, that’s why I can’t find them.

There’s not much to see in the suburbs of Long Island. The shapes the buildings make are kind of pretty, though. They’re all warped and blackened, like a giant hand smushed them like play-doh. There’s lots of litter. There’s evidence of humans everywhere. The sun is setting behind the ruined buildings and it looks red and burning. It reminds me of something awful. Maybe a movie I watched, I think, about some awful explosion. The sun is too red and it’s scaring me. I’m going to keep walking to the grocery store.

This parking lot is empty and dirty. There’s lots of litter: plastic water bottle casings, old lighters, trampled wet paper bags, turned over shopping cars, shells of cars, the grocery store sign smashed on the ground. I step on the broken glass because it makes a nice sound. It smells like food, I think. The smell of the food is making my throat hurt, I think. There’s smoke rising from the building. They’re cooking, I think. The sun is so red behind the smoke. It looks like fire.

It looks like fire. There’s so much fire. It’s reminding me of something really bad. I’m really scared, something in my brain is really scared. Something happened and I can’t remember. I don’t want to be at the grocery store anymore. I’m walking home now but my legs aren’t feeling very normal. I wish the sun wouldn’t look so red. Everything is red and warm and smoky. It’s only just April and my nose and fingers are supposed to be pink from the cold.

I’m getting lost, I think. Once I find my way home I can get my dad to hug me so I feel better. I don’t know why I’m crying. Something is making me sad and scared but I can’t remember what it is. Reminds me of a movie, I think. A big scary explosion in a movie. The air smells like smoke. I think I might be upset because of cabin fever. That’s it, I think.

I think I need to go on more walks.

#reuploading with the drawing!! im REALLY PROUD OF IT...#monstrous art #monstrous writing #writing #horror story #short story

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colbybrocksmolder · 6 years ago

Text

Blue - Colby Brock x Reader - Part 2/3

Part 1...

*** end of last chapter ***

“How’s it going so far?” Jake quietly asked, sitting on the coffee table facing Colby.

“Terrifyingly easy.” Colby answered, looking down and finding Ivy fast asleep.

“Well that’s a good thing, right?”, Jake said. “Y/n seems to fit right in. Her and Tara are bonding over SpongeBob memes as we speak.”

“That’s the terrifying part.” Colby said, gently brushing Ivy’s hair out of her face. “They’re here for a month. They’ve only been here for like 7 hours and I’m already sad that they’re going to leave.”

Jake watched Colby gazing down at the tiny sleeping figure in his arms. “I don’t know, brother. You’re usually a loner that likes his space. You might be happy when you’ve got your apartment back”, Jake laughed.

Colby just sighed. *what the fuck am I getting myself into?* he thought to himself.

*** start of new chapter ***

“All done!” Tara said, her and Y/n walking out of the spare room.

“I knew she was going to crash soon.” Y/n laughed, seeing Ivy once again asleep on Colby.

“This girl has endless energy.” Colby laughed, holding her tight against him while he sat up, making room for the girls on the couch.

“I told you. Having a kid is a lot of work.” Y/n replied, taking a seat next to Colby.

“Mike is the one that ran around playing tag with her for over an hour”, he laughed. “I got the easy job. We took naps and watched movies.”

“Well I, for one, am exhausted.” Y/n said, reaching to grab Ivy. “Us two are going to head to bed.”

Colby shifted Ivy from his arms to Y/n’s. “If you guys need anything at all, come get me. I don’t even care if I’m asleep.”

“He’s a deep sleeper.” Tara laughed. “Make sure you bring something to hit him with if you need to wake him up.”

Colby nodded, “She’s not wrong.”

“I think we have everything we need”, Y/n laughed. She turned to Colby. “Thank you again for making this so easy. All of you guys have gone out of your way to make us feel welcome.”

“You ARE welcome, Y/n. Both of you.” He could see her getting choked up again. “I’m going to walk these two out while you two get settled in your room.”

“It was so nice meeting you guys.” Y/n said, waving to Tara and Jake as she made her way to her bedroom.

“Same. I’m looking forward to hanging out again.” Tara replied while Jake waved.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Colby said, walking them to the door so he could lock it after they left. Once the door was locked, Colby walked the apartment making sure everything was turned off or put away. He hesitated at the spare bedroom door before lightly knocking.

“Come in.” Y/n called, throwing her hair up in a messy bun as Colby opened the door.

“Hey, I just wanted to check in one more time.” He said, standing in the doorway.

She looked over at him. “I’m sorry I got emotional a minute ago.” y/n apologized, looking away from Colby. “I’m exhausted and the trip was stressful….” She rambled.

Colby walked towards y/n, interrupting her with a hand on her shoulder. “Y/n. While I have no doubt that road tripping with an almost 3-year-old is stressful…I know there’s something else bugging you”, he said, pulling her into a tight hug. “I don’t know if something happened or if maybe someONE made you feel like you don’t deserve to be treated well, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’m literally only a room away.”

Y/n nodded, her face hidden against Colby. “I’m just…I’m realizing a lot being around you guys for even just a short time.”

“I mean, we ARE kind of awesome.” Colby teased, trying to break the tension. He smiled hearing her laugh. “Get some sleep. You’ve got a few more people to meet tomorrow.”

Colby woke up the next morning to loads of noise coming from his living room. When he turned over and checked his phone he realized why. It was almost 1pm. “Oh fuck.” He croaked out, slipping a clean hoodie on before noticing something on his bedside table. There was a piece of computer paper with a crayon drawing on it. A stick figure in blue and a heart in red.

He walked out to the living room with the drawing in his hand. “Good morning, sleepy head.” Mike teased him, “Did my baby sleep well?”

“I slept like a rock, sweet cheeks”, Colby replied, blowing Mike a kiss.

Mike moved to “catch” the kiss Colby blew him before turning and pretending to wipe it all over Sam’s face.

“Noooo. No!” Sam dramatically wiped his hands on his face.

Ivy was cracking up watching the whole exchange. “Iiiiivyyyy” Colby drew out her name, holding up the drawing he had found by his bed. “Is this mine?” he asked, squatting down next to where she was coloring at the coffee table.

She looked up at him, nodding yes. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m going to hang it up over here.” He took the drawing and hung it on his fridge. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?” Colby asked, turning back to the room.

“I was going to when Ivy went to put the drawing in your room, but she shushed me and pointed towards the door.” Jake laughed, “I wasn’t going to argue with her.”

Colby sat cross legged on the floor by the coffee table, pulling the little girl into his lap so she sat a little higher. “You can always wake me up, Ivy.” He told her, watching her draw.

“No get in trouble.” She mumbled, reaching for another crayon.

“I promise you’ll never get in trouble for waking me up.” He said, kissing the top of her head. “Where are the girls?”

“They’re picking up lunch. Kevin and some of the others are going to head over here soon, too.” Mike answered.

The next few days were a crazy hectic blur. Y/n and Mike had shared some of their half-written songs and lyric ideas with each other to get their creative juices flowing. Kat and Y/n filmed a “Singing on street corners” video and before they even posted their video, clips of them had practically gone viral. Each of the guys and a few of the girls all filmed group videos. Y/n was in most of them and Ivy was in a few too. And after an already long day, Colby still needed to film his video.

“uuuughh”, Colby groaned, staring blankly at the wall.

“You good?” Sam asked, his laptop out with research for their next series location on the screen.

“I have to film my video tonight and I have no idea what to film.” Colby replied.

“Film something that always bangs.” Sam said. “Let’s do a truth or strip.”

“Ahem.” Colby cleared his throat, pointing towards the little girl sleeping on the couch cushion next to him.

“Yeaaaaaah, let’s not.” Sam laughed. “Wait, do it the way Kat and I did! We put something on every time we didn’t want to answer a question.”

“Could do.” Colby said, thinking it over. “Just no swearing or sexual stuff.”

“Who would have thought Colby Brock would turn his channel PG.” Sam teased, going to set up the camera. “Go grab a bunch of hoodies and stuff. I’ll start writing down questions.”

“Aight, I’ll be back.” Colby replied. He stopped by the spare room to see if Y/n would ask the questions for the video.

“Of course.” y/n replied.

So far, the video was pretty funny. Even with keeping it fairly cleaner than Sam and Colby’s usual content. “Next question. Have either of you ever skinny dipped?” Y/n asked.

Sam and Colby looked at each other, Sam reaching out and grabbing another sweater.

“Brother, putting on another shirt is basically just saying yes.” Colby laughed, blushing a bit, “So yes. I have gone skinny dipping.”

“I think everyone should at least once.” Y/n added, saying “Next question” before either of the boys could say anything back. “Who are your YouTube crushes?”

“Katrina Stuart”, Sam smirked into the camera.

“Not fair.” Colby shoved Sam.

“I mean, Kat’s hot. I get it.” Y/n pointed out.

“Don’t I know it”, Sam made kissy faces at the camera.

“I’m keeping that whole thing in the video” Colby laughed. “Ignore me while I throw on ANOTHER friggen hoodie.”

“You cold?” they heard Ivy ask. She had woken up sometime during the last question. Colby finally popped his head through the hoodie and he made a face a her. She burst out in giggles.

“Are you laughing at me?” Colby asked, slowly creeping towards the little girl.

Sam stood up, taking the camera off the tripod. “I think she was.” He added.

“Nooooo” she squealed, backing up off of the couch.

“I think you were.” Colby said, wiggling his fingers towards her like he was going to tickle her.

She ran around the coffee table, uncontrollably laughing before trying to hide behind y/n’s legs.

“Oh no you don’t”, Colby crouched down on the other side of y/n, reaching around her legs and tickling Ivy.

“Hey, how did I get in the middle of this?” Y/n laughed.

“Moooom”, Ivy squealed between fits of laughter.

“Run Ivy!” Y/n pushed Colby off balance, so he fell back on his butt. The girl went to hide on the side of the couch.

“Not fair! I can barely move in all these hoodies!” Colby laughed laying on his back, pretending like he couldn’t get up. “Ivy, come help me!”

The girl peeked around the side of the couch. “I don’t know if I’d trust him.” Sam said, still filming the whole thing.

“I can’t get up!” Colby continued.

Ivy started slowly walking towards Colby, leaning over to see what he was doing. Colby laid there with his eyes closed not moving an inch. “Blue?” Ivy said, reaching down to poke him.

“Got you!” Colby half shouted, sitting up and pulling Ivy to his lap. He tickled her again, laughing quite a bit himself.

“You fibbed” she squealed out between laughs.

Colby chuckled and stopped tickling her. “I’m sorry”, he said, pulling her into a hug. He looked up at Sam and remembered they had been filming a video. “I think that’s all we’re going to get done for this one, guys” Colby laughed, addressing his audience. “Make sure to like and subscribe. Hit up all my social media pages. I’ll make sure to link Y/n and Sam down below so make sure you check them out too.” Colby looked down at Ivy. “Wave bye to the camera, Ivy”

“Byyyye” she waved, laughing when Colby tickled her again.

“Alright, guys. See you next week!” Colby waved to the camera.

“I am sweating to death” Sam said, starting to take the hoodies off.

“You think you’re sweating? I’ve got on twice as many, brother.” Colby whined, struggling to get them off of himself. “I’m going to shower and edit, so I probably won’t see you guys again tonight”, he said, looking up at Y/n.

“I have to be at Mike’s early tomorrow anyways” Y/n replied, looking at the time.

“You look nervous”, Colby chuckled, shedding the last of the hoodies.

“It’s always nerve-wracking working with someone new. I’m equal parts excited and nervous.” She explained.

“You’re going to do great.” Colby said, standing up and looking at her fondly. “Seriously. You write amazing music and your voice…come on. Your voice is killer.”

Y/n blushed. “Thank you. I think I needed that.” She said, turning to head to her bedroom. “Come on, Ivy!”

Ivy ran to Colby, reaching up for him to pick her up. “You have to get to bed, kiddo.” He said, picking her up.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Night, blue.”

Colby couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Goodnight, sweetheart”, he replied, putting her down so she could head to her mom. He was up editing for a few hours and when he checked the living room, all of the lights were off. He made sure the front door was locked and headed to bed.

“Ivy, you need to eat your breakfast so we can start our day.” Y/n quietly told her daughter for the 3rd time. Ivy laid her head down on the coffee table with her hand to her other cheek. “Aww, baby. Your teeth?” Y/n realized why her daughter had woken up in a mood.

Ivy nodded as a few tears fell down her cheeks. Y/n grabbed her ice pack and picked ivy up, cradling her in her arms with the ice pack against her cheek.

Colby was up the second he heard Ivy crying. He shot out of bed and hurried into the living room in just his sweatpants ready to tackle whatever made that little girl cry. “What’s going on?” he said, looking around until he saw the two girls on the couch. “What happened?” he asked, kneeling down in front of them.

“Nothing happened. I’m sorry she woke you up.” Y/n apologized, “She’s got a few more baby teeth coming in.”

“Stop apologizing”, Colby said, his voice still thick with sleep. He grabbed Ivy’s hand “I’m sorry you’re hurting.” Looking up at Y/n he asked, “Is there any medicine we can give her to help?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s in my room.” She answered, going to stand up.

“Here.” Colby said, putting his arms out for Ivy to come to him. “Why don’t you go grab the medicine and I’ll take this one.”

Ivy clung on to Colby, tucking her face in his neck. “Oooo your cheek is cold”, Colby laughed. “Do you want the ice?” he asked her, feeling her shake her head no.

“Here you go, baby.” Y/n walked into the kitchen to grab a spoon. “This will help you.” Ivy lifted her head to take her medicine and quickly tucked her face back in Colby’s neck. “This stuff always makes her so sleepy.”

“You’ll feel better soon.” Colby said, lightly bouncing her in his arms.

“I’ll go grab her a comfy outfit so she can sleep in her car-seat.” Y/n said, turning to head to her room.

“Y/n, you can just leave her here”, Colby suggested, continuing to bounce the little girl in his arms.

“I’m going to be gone all day, though.” Y/n replied, putting her hand on Ivy’s back.

“So? We can go back to bed for a while, I’ll make sure she gets something to eat in a little bit, and you won’t be stressing about her on your first writing day with Mike.” Colby reassured her.

Y/n thought about it. “Maybe I can come home for lunch.” She said, “I’d feel bad if you had to watch her all day.”

“Y/n, I don’t HAVE to do anything. I’m volunteering. And if you install her car-seat in my car, I can bring her to visit you guys if she’s feeling better when she wakes up.” He offered.

Y/n took in the scene in front of her. Colby was standing there shirtless, gently bouncing her daughter, rubbing soothing circles into her back. His hair was a mess and his eyes were closed as he mumbled little ‘you’re okays’ to Ivy. *I could get used to this* she thought to herself, finally warming up to the fact that maybe some people really do care. Not everyone wants something from you. “You’re a hard man to argue with.” Y/n smiled up at him.

“Then don’t argue with me.” Colby smirked.

Y/n reached up and pressed a kiss to Colby’s cheek. “I’m going to go get dressed”, she said, looking down at Ivy. “And this one is already half asleep so you two are good to go back to bed.”

“Does she have like a blanket she likes or a stuffed animal or something?” He asked, following Y/n.

“She’s never liked stuffed animals, actually.” Y/n answered. “Here’s her little security blanket.”

"I’ll grab that, we’re going to go nap, and you have a great day.” Colby said, sleepily wandering back to his room. He left his door open so Y/n could stop by if she wanted to before she left. “Let go, sweetheart.” Colby whispered to Ivy, laying her down on his bed and handing her her little blanket. He made sure she was on the side that was against the wall so that she didn’t roll off. “Your mom said you didn’t like stuffed animals, but this guy here is special.” He said, grabbing his stuffed koala.

Ivy sniffled, little remnants of her crying finally fading. “Thank you”

“Get some sleep.” He said, crawling into bed “You’ll feel better soon.”

When Y/n finished getting ready about an hour later, she quietly tiptoed into Colby’s room. She immediately grabbed her phone, taking a picture of the precious sight before her. Colby was on his side and Ivy was the cutest little spoon you’ve ever seen. In her arms was the stuffed Koala and Colby’s arm was draped over both of them, snoring.

Over the next week or so, it became a habit that when Y/n would wake up early to go write with Mike, Ivy would just crawl into bed with Colby. He would wake up hours later to tiny cuddles. They’d get dressed, go sit at some restaurant for lunch, and then bring food to Mike and Y/n. In fact, Colby’s video this week was just vlog footage of him and Ivy. They had gone to the zoo, gotten ice cream or food a dozen times, and gone to the park to swing. Today, Brennen brought Kobe over to the apartment so Colby and him could film a video for Brennen’s channel.

“I never thought I’d think something was cuter than my dog, but damn.” Brennen laughed, watching Ivy and Kobe play fetch.

Colby laughed, reminding Ivy not to throw the toy in the kitchen. He didn’t want her to get hurt on the corners of the counter. “She’s something”, he said, hearing Ivy call out an “I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay, sweetheart. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Colby smiled.

“You’re in full dad mode, bro.” Brennen said, smirking over at one of his best friends.

Colby looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed together. “Am not.”

“My dude, it’s obvious you care about her. And you haven’t shut up about Y/n.” Brennen laughed, hitting Colby’s chest with the back of his hand. “You haven’t come out partying once since they got here.”

“First, y/n obviously doesn’t like me like that. She’s been here for 2 weeks and absolutely nothing has happened. No real flirting, no nothing. So, I can pine all I want, but I’m going to have to accept it when they leave.” Colby said, trying not to sound sad about that fact.

“I disagree”, Brennen tried to sneak in, but Colby continued talking, giving him a look.

“And second, I do care about Ivy.” Colby said, hearing her break out in a fit of laughter as Kobe licked her face. “I have this feeling that her dad was a dirtbag.”

“Yeah?” Brennen asked.

“Y/n would fight back tears the whole first week she was here whenever we were nice to her. Like, just our normal friends group level of nice.” Colby said, thinking back on how Y/n had reacted. “And Ivy apologized for everything. She accidentally spilled water on the coffee table and kept asking me if I was sure she wasn’t in trouble. Like, who the fuck would get mad over spilling water? Especially at their own daughter?”

“Have you talked to Y/n about it?” Bren asked.

“No. I kind of let her know I knew something was going on. That I was here. That she could talk to me whenever she was ready, I just…They don’t deserve that, dude. They deserve all the love in the world.” Colby continued watching Ivy and Kobe play.

“I gotta head out, but I’m going to say something to you first.” Brennen said, waiting for Colby to look at him. “I know you’re young. I know. #Brolby. We’re wild boys that like to have fun and do stupid shit so I know I’m not who you expected this to come from…but you’ve got a lot of love to give, brother. My dad didn’t give two shits about what happened to my siblings or my mom. It’s fucking obvious you care. A LOT. So don’t NOT take your chance because your palms get sweaty around your crush. There’s a lot more riding on this than whether or not a girl rejects you. No one’s going to love that little girl as much as you already do.”

Brennen stood up, putting his phone in his pocket and grabbing his camera. “Preciosa mío, come say bye to uncle Brennen.” He called out, picking Ivy up when she ran to him. “I promise I’ll bring Kobe back to play soon.” He kissed her on the cheek and put her down.

“Hey Ivy, if you go put on your jacket, we can go see mommy and Mike.” Colby stood up, following Brennen to the door.

Ivy ran to her room squealing about getting to play with more dogs.

“Brennen.” Colby said, pulling him into their usual bro hug when he turned around. When Brennen went to pull away, Colby held him tight for a second. “Thanks, man.”

Brennen clapped him on the back, “Anytime, brother.”

part 3...

#colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock imagine #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfiction

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sprnklersplashes · 5 years ago

Text

heart of stone (2/?)

AO3

It’s three days before Janis’ rest results are available. That night, her mom pops her head around her bedroom door and tells her they need to be at the hospital early the next morning. She had spent the intervening time lounging around her house, rotating through different sweaters and reading the same book over and over, all the while filling in Damian and Cady as much as she could, trying to reassure them and herself that it was nothing and in a few days she’d probably be fine. She’d be back bugging them in no time, probably by the first day of school, in fact.

And that better be true, she thinks, because she has never been so bored in her life. In those few days between appointments her biggest achievement was successfully showing her dad how to master Netflix and introducing him to Killing Eve. She had tried to draw, but no idea stayed still in her mind long enough for her to recapture it on paper. The pencil bounced between her hands as she looked through outlines of unfinished sketches, trying to make one jump out at her. She puts them all in her drawer with a resigned sigh, one of those impossibly rare moments where she willingly admits defeat and submits to her fate. Her body feels too weary to move and her brain completely burnt out, but her soul keeps pushing her to create, to be active and busy. Her hands weren’t meant for scrolling through her phone as she’s half asleep, they’re artists hands, built for innovation. The restlessness crept through her nerves and up to her brain, shaking it so much that when her mom hung up the phone and told her she had an appointment the next day, she threw her head back and thanked God.

But her initial relief is gone now as she and her parents follow the perky secretary’s directions down to the doctor’s room, passing sunshine yellow walls and hurrying over pristine white floors. She keeps her hands in her pockets, her heart clenching each time she catches a glimpse of a patient. Some of them smile, some of them don’t, some look normal and others… not so much, gaunt faces and loose headscarves. Wrong as it is, her anxiety only spikes when she sees them, not to mention her bedside manner isn’t the greatest. Perhaps it’s lucky her parents don’t set high goals for her because she’d never make a doctor.

Her dad keeps looking back at her, asking if she’s okay, and she tells him she is, even though her chest is pained and tight, either from worry or her own body’s weakness. Or worse, both. Her little personal storm cloud makes itself known again, desperate for her attention after she had put so much effort into ignoring it. It clings to her brain and strains against her skull, stretching over and whispering in her ear, telling her she should get used to this place. She might be seeing more of it than she wants to.

She closes her eyes tightly and stops walking for a second, wishing she could go back to a few days ago, lounging in bed with Cady when everything was normal and okay. But she can’t, so she jogs to catch up with her parents and keeps her eyes on her boots.

“Mr and Mrs Sarkisian.” The doctor they meet is around her dad’s age, brown hair beginning to grey with thick rimmed black glasses and wearing a funky green and blue tie over a white shirt. If he ditched the white coat and clipboard, he’d look like a dad. On his desk, amongst the paperwork and nameplate, is a Rubix cube, a framed photo of two kids and a stuffed frog chilling against the computer, wearing an oversized pair of sunglasses. Doctor Dad looks at Janis, his mouth opening and closing silently for a split second, a fearful glint in his eyes. Exactly what she needs. “And Janis, I assume.” She lets him shake her hand, not letting herself show how clammy it feels. His nerves sparks on the skin in a way only someone who has been through it could pick up on.

She’s been reading him since she first saw him and none of it puts her at ease. His smile looks like someone is pulling it across his face with wires and his eyes flash behind his glasses when he looks at her. His breathing hitches, his fingers fidget and when he sits down, she sees him pull himself back together, starting with the shoulders and up to the chin, straightening everything out, looking presentable. Approachable. Softening the blow he’s about to make. Maybe her parents take notice, or not. They’re specific things, only noticeable to those who are looking for them.

They do say ignorance is bliss.

“These… these types of conversations are never easy.” Oh, what a brilliant opening line. It makes her mom’s hand clasp her dad’s with a grip that’s white-knuckled and desperate. As for Janis herself, she squirms in her chair, biting down hard on her thumbnail. She feels like there’s a million little centipedes all over her body, scurrying around with their tiny feet, wriggling into her elbows, writhing beneath her knees, twisting around on her stomach. She could burst at any moment and they’d invade his office, bury themselves in his carpeting and make homes in the vents.

“Just give it to me straight, doc,” she blurts out. Her parents turn to her, more amused than surprised, and she offers a shrug, the beginnings of a smirk on her face. “Which might be hard in my case.” Her parents chuckle as she looks over at the doctor, herself getting a kick out of his own dumbfounded expression. “Because I’m a lesbian.”

“Oh, right,” he says, managing something that sounds like a laugh. He clears his throat and opens the file in his hand, blocking it from her view in a move that she isn’t sure is accidental. Pressure builds in her chest, her lungs feeling smaller and smaller inside her. The clock must be wrong, because it says only seconds have passed, but they’ve been there for far longer. Minutes. Hours, it must be. She grips the side of the plastic chair, drumming her nails along the underside and pressing her palm into the metal legs. Her mom rubs her hand down her back, asking quietly if she needs anything. She shakes her head, knowing ‘for this to be over’ probably isn’t a good answer.

“Janis… I’m afraid you have leukaemia.”

She’s falling.

Someone took her chair out from underneath her and she’s falling. She phases through the floor and keeps falling, her surroundings a silent blur. She tries to breathe but nothing can come in or out, her hand outstretched but no one holding it. She’s trapped in a bubble, one with no air or no sound, keeping everyone else away from her. She’s alone as she falls, nothing but the white expanse for company, her heart still, her mind empty. All she knows is she’s hurtling towards… something, at full speed and getting faster with each second.

“Janis!”

She blinks, the bottom of the chair cutting a deep, red line into her palms. But it’s steady beneath her, even if nothing else is. All at once, her body and mind come back to her, her heart beats faintly in her chest, weak from shock, and her breaths are quick and rapid. Her brain is a jumbled and confused mess, so much so that she preferred it when she couldn’t think of anything. Now her mind is opening ideas in a flash and tossing them out just as quickly; dashing around her head so thoughtlessly and rapidly that she can’t get a grip on anything. So instead she’s just sitting there, a ringing in her head and cold weakness in her chest, waiting for someone to fix this.

“Janis.” Her dad’s hand is on hers, his fingers curling around with a touch that’s so soft and gentle it almost doesn’t belong in here. Not with that word lingering between them. “Are you okay kid?”

How the hell is she meant to be okay?

“Leukaemia.” She drags her eyes up, not to meet the doctor, but to look past him, to look at the ugly shade of yellow his wall is painted and the framed certificate, declaring him as having graduated from somewhere with a degree in something. She bites her lip so hard she feels the beginnings of a little lump forming there. Like the ones on her neck. Like the ones they always say are a sign of…

The word sticks in her throat and she has to tear it out of her.

“Like… cancer? Like the cancer kind of leukaemia?”

“I’m afraid so,” the doctor says, his voice soft. She doesn’t know if she’s ever heard a voice that soft before, maybe when she was a kid, a really tiny kid and her goldfish died and her mom had to explain to her what death was.

Why did her mind have to go there?

It’s only now she notices one of the posters on the wall. Bright green lettering and a glossy photo of a little girl, fourteen, maybe thirteen, sitting up in a bed, a tube in her nose and a hat on her bald head, grinning brightly up a nurse with a sweet face. That’s what cancer is. It’s losing your hair and being in hospital and having tubes sticking in and out of your body. It’s other stuff too, stuff she hasn’t thought about and doesn’t know because it’s not for her. Cancer isn’t for her, it’s for old grandmas in knitted cardigans and tragic little kids who get to meet spiderman. Occasionally, it’s for teenagers and young people like her, but not her specifically. Never her. Cancer is something that exists far away, lurking around corners, on the tongues of adults who them about the dangers of cellphones or their health teacher telling them to eat healthily. It exists all right, but it doesn’t happen to her.

“Janis,” her mom says gently, running her fingers through her hair. Her voice is thin and shaking as though she’s about to cry. Why would she be crying? She’ll fix this. There’s no way this is real and now her mom is crying over nothing.

“I’m fine,” she replies, squeezing her mom’s hand back. Life comes back to her body and she looks up at the doctor, finally feeling heat inside her, attacking the cold emptiness and sending it back where it belongs. It flares up in her chest, a spark that she’d sorely missed these past few days. She grips her mom’s hand tighter, her own hand shaking and her fingers tight and tense. “I’m fine because I don’t have cancer.”

“Janis I know this is difficult to hear-”

“It’s not. It’s not because I am fine. Because I don’t have cancer, you did the test wrong.”

“Our team ran several tests. We ruled out other possibilities.”

“Clearly you didn’t if you’re telling me that I have cancer, which I don’t, so do another one.” Her grip on her mom isn’t just for her sake, but it’s also keeping Janis from getting up and flipping that desk over and telling Doctor Dad to get fucked. Who does he even think he is anyway? That degree can’t be much good if he’s telling her this and screwed up a test like that.

“Janis,” he sighs, gesturing with his hands like that’s going to fix anything. “I understand that this is a lot to take in right now-”

“It’s not,” she snaps, the smile on her face strained and sharp. “It’s not because you’re fuck-you’re wrong. I don’t-I can’t have-”

“Janis!”

Her mom’s voice is what pulls her back down. When she looks over at her, she sees brown eyes identical to hers, but they’re filled with tears and rimmed red and show a tiny spark of anger amongst the sadness. Her mom’s mouth is half-open, a plea waiting on her lips, begging her daughter to see sense. Her hand tightens around Janis’, her grip becoming less comforting and careful and more irritated and exhausted.

“Sweetheart… please.”

God she’s a horrible person. Her parents just heard probably one of the worst things a parent could hear, and she just threw a tantrum over it.

She looks at the doctor with uncharacteristic and unfamiliar shyness, trying to pick herself back up, present herself as anything close to reasonable after the meltdown she just had. Something about him makes her feel like he understands. Maybe she’s not the first to react like that. Or maybe it’s wishful thinking.

“So what happens now?” she asks in a flat voice.

“What happens now is you start treatment as soon as possible,” Doctor Dad explains. He leans forwards on his desk, his hands clasped together and when Janis notices the distressed expression on his face, the pain of guilt in her stomach only gets worse. “My colleagues have already discussed this and we think it would be best for you to begin within the next two weeks. The earliest start would be next Monday.”

“Next Monday?” she echoes, her voice cracking. “But… but I start school in three days I start before that, I can’t…” She knows it’s a lost cause and there’s no point to it, but it’s the last thing she has. Her school is the last part of her life that’s real in all this, so forgive her for clinging to it. She looks from her parents to the doctor, three different, grave expressions and only one is able to give her an answer.

“I’m afraid going to school will be out of the question,” the doctor tells her. Her mom’s fingers lace between hers, squeezing her hand in what’s meant to be comforting, but Janis can’t feel it. She’s too busy trying to push back another protest. “I’m sorry, Janis. There is the option of online school, but your treatment is likely to make you too tired to focus. It might be easier on your mental health if you saved school until next year.”

Saved school until next year. When everyone she knows is already gone and this year’s juniors will be seniors. She’ll have to wait a year for all the fun stuff that seniors get to do, cutting in the lunch line, going to prom, graduation parties, using the senior’s lounge. She’ll be sitting in a class of people she’s a year older than her, all in pre-formed friendship groups and likely knowing her as Cancer Girl. Cady, Damian, Karen, everyone else will be graduating this year and will move on to new adventures. And she’ll be left behind.

The idea makes her more sick than the cancer has.

“Jan?” her dad asks softly. She finds three pairs of expectant eyes on her and all she can offer is a small nod.

“Okay,” she whispers. She’s not sure what she’s saying okay to.

“What about the treatment itself?” her mom asks. “How is that going to work?”

“We might have to do a few more tests to find that out,” he explains. “But it would likely be chemotherapy. What we’ve discussed so far is two weeks in hospital and then a week at home to recover for around three months. Thankfully, the cancer hasn’t progressed far enough to warrant more, and we’ll want to keep it at that. The goal is to get Janis to remission.” She nods, her head starting to throb a little. She presses her fingers to her temples before she can stop herself, and that’s a red flag to both her parents. She drops it, muttering a lie about being fine.

“Of course there will be a lot of support for Janis through this,” he goes on. “There is an excellent support group and appointments can be made with a counsellor on a one-to-one basis.”

Somehow that doesn’t help, she thinks. It’s not meant to, she guesses.

It’s cold when they step outside, or that might just be her. The wind cuts through her jacket and the sweater she pulled on and attacks her skin, leaving her fighting off shivers. She pushes her dad’s arm off her when he tries to help her to the car. That only makes her feel worse, mentally and physically.

Being in a car with your parents after a cancer diagnosis is a weird experience. The tension between the three of them strangles her. An unspoken conversation passes between her parents in the front and frankly, it pisses her off. If they’re going to be concerned about her, they could at least do her the courtesy of involving her. But maybe it’s better that way because despite being an arm’s length from them, she feels as though she’s miles away. Like when they started driving, she stayed put. She sinks back into the seat and stares straight ahead, the pain in her head coming back louder and stronger, pushing against her skull and screaming behind her eyelids.

“Janis… are you okay?” her mom asks.

“Fine,” she sighs.

“Do you need anything? We can go to the gas station-”

“I said I’m fine,” she replies, firmer than before. “I just want to lay down.”

She’s not kidding. She wants to press her face into her pillow until everything blacks out and all that exists is the colours that explode behind her eyelids. Then they can fade to, and she won’t have to deal with anything anymore.

They drive on in a heavy silence, and the longer they go, the angrier she finds herself growing. She doesn’t know where it’s directed, at herself or her parents or the doctor or the universe, but it’s there, rising in tandem with her the pain in her head and making her restless. She grabs her upper arm and squeezes hard, pressing her nails in until it starts to hurt, just to get it out somewhere.

“Hey… why don’t we go to Dairy Queen?” her dad suggests, as though they’re on their way back from mini golfing. It’s a sweet offer and Janis almost smiles at it. But it’s why it’s sweet that she doesn’t want it.

“I don’t want to,” she replies. “I just want to go home.” Besides, there is a real risk of her upchucking a milkshake on the seat.

Her parents exchange another worried look, their hands clasping over the gearshift, and Janis has to bite back a scream.

When they do finally get home, Janis doesn’t wait for them to get out of the car. Instead she storms ahead, regardless of how it hurts her head more, because she’s so damn relieved to be out of that care and in open space. She opens the door with her own key, remembering to leave it open for them. She runs into the hallway and then stops almost immediately, her chest tight and her breaths coming in short, quick gulps. Something rushes against her and grabs at her legs, and she takes a minute to work out that it’s Maxie, no doubt pouting at her and wondering what she was doing and where she was and why she didn’t take him. He’s probably whimpering or barking, and her dad is probably trying to talk to her, but she can’t hear anything but the blood rushing in her ears.

“Oh my God,” she says out loud. Everything she’s held back in the car bubbles over and she can’t hold it back any more.

She just about makes it to her room in time to throw herself on the bed and start screaming. She doesn’t even sound like a human. It’s deep and it’s guttural, tearing at her throat and painted with rage and pain and fear. Poor Maxie is probably hiding in his bed, scared of the monster upstairs. Her eyes, her face burns and her bedroom melts away, leaving just a mesh of dark colours bleeding together. Tears and snot run down her face and over her hands and on the pillows, making the mark of a miserable, self-pitying girl going insane.

Her head doesn’t just hurt any more, it’s screeching and kicking at her and she can’t do anything about it. She can’t do anything about anything. That’s the problem. Her chest aches and her neck hurts and her mouth is dry and her eyes burn. But all that’s nothing to what’s going on in her heart and head, where dangerous, toxic cocktails bubble. All she wants to do is not feel, but she feels everything and it’s all just pain.

She runs out of tears at one point and they dry on her face as she looks up at the ceiling, the word “cancer” written in invisible ink above her. She thinks “I might die” and then rolls her eyes at herself for being bleak. She wants to tell her all the good stuff about new treatments and technology and whatever but it’s all surface level nonsense. Fear wins over optimism and it cuts right into her, deep into her soul.

She doesn’t know what she’s most worried about and she’s an idiot for it. Not knowing if she’s more scared of the fatal disease wreaking destruction and chaos inside her body or of not getting to go to Cady’s Mathletes competitions or see Damian in the musical. It should be plainly obvious what’s the worse one, but it isn’t. Is this her now? Vapid and shallow, more obsessed with her petty teenage fun than her health? Was she always like this?

Her parents find her laying across her bed, unblinking, the slow rise and fall of her chest the only thing that indicate her being alive.

“How long ago did you guys wait?” she asks flatly.

“Two hours,” her dad explains, shifting on his feet. “We thought you’d need some space.” She nods numbly at that. “Janis… I know this is a lot to process for you.”

“Understatement of the century,” she mumbles. At least she’s still got humour. The bed sags and she sees her mom sitting next to her, her hand reaching out to stroke her hair. Janis can’t remember the last time her mom did that to her, not like this, with dainty fingers that could send her to sleep.

“We’re going to be here the whole time,” her mom promises. “You’re not doing this alone.”

She is though. That’s the problem. They’re not going to be the ones in the hospital beds and taking medicine and missing her senior year. She is. They’ll be beside her all they like, and she hopes to hell they are, but they aren’t going through it with her.

“I know,” is what she says instead. “I know.” She pulls herself to a sitting position, grabbing her mom’s shoulder as her room starts tilting. It takes a few seconds of deep, shaky breaths and her eyes shut tight before she feels normal again. “I’m okay.” She looks up at the two of them, overwhelmed by a feeling of helplessness that makes her feel tiny despite her impressive height. “So what happens now?”

“We’ll take care of the official stuff,” her dad days softly, his arms wrapped around himself Holding himself together. “Letting the school know and all that. But… it might be better if you tell your friends.” She shakes her head on instinct. She can barely get that word out of her mouth on her own. In front of Damian or Cady, she knows she’d crumble.

“Sweetie,” her mom says. Her hand hasn’t stopped stroking her. “I know it’s hard. But they love you and they’re going to want to hear it from you. Not from us and not from the school either.” Janis presses her face into her knees, blinking away another wave of tears. They’re right. Of course they’re right. But that doesn’t mean that the idea of telling them makes her want to vomit.

Right now, only she, her mom, her dad and some doctors know. And she can pretend the doctors don’t exist and remove them from the equation. And when the only people who know are living in this house, it’s easier for her to pretend that it doesn’t really exist. She can push it away and ignore her parents and keep it inside these walls. Once she tells her friends…

It’s real. There’s no going back after that. Granted there’s no going back either way, but there’s no hiding either.

“Janis,” her mom agrees, sharking a look with her dad. “If it’s really too much for you… we can tell your friends for you.

“No,” she says with a shake of her head. “No, you’re right. They need to hear it from me.”

“Oh, baby,” her mom breathes, hugging her tightly around her shoulders. She’s not crying, but her breathing is ragged and her grip scared. “I’m so sorry. I wish this wasn’t happening to you.” Her dad sits on the other side of her and wraps his arm around her, letting her head on her head on his shoulder. The hug is clumsy and a little forced, no-one knowing when to let go and Janis quickly becomes uncomfortable in their embrace. The longer it goes on, the less like herself she feels.

She spends the rest of the day and most of the following morning looking at her phone, even when she’s eating or watching TV with her dad or playing with Maxie. Every gesture is half-hearted, the building sense of dread distracting her form everything else. She scrolls through the messages from yesterday, Cady asking how her appointment went and Damian asking if she was free and Gretchen asking her opinion on a shirt. All living in blissful ignorance.

It’s no contest as to who to tell first. She sits on her bed, Damian’s face looking up at her from the phone screen, one button all that separates the two of them. Just press a button. How hard can that be? Very hard, it turns out, when your arm feels like lead and you don’t even know what to say to him, your words written and crossed out and written again on the notebook beside you. The worst part is that she isn’t even sure what she’s scared of. There’s a lot to choose from and when it’s telling someone you love as much as she loves him, that only makes it worse. Like she’s on top of a skyscraper, about to be pushed off and into darkness.

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and calls him.

“Hey,” he chirps on the other side, picking up after just one ring. She leans back on her bed, biting her nail, her heart ceasing beating altogether. In the back of her mind, she wonders if he’d been waiting for her. “What’s up?”

“Are you-can you come over?” she asks. “Are you free right now?”

“Uh yeah,” he replies. “Everything okay?” No it’s not, the okay train left the station yesterday and I missed it and I’m about to pull you off it too. “Janis… are you okay?”

“Just… how soon can you come over?” she says, moving from biting her nail to her knuckles. “It’s just… it’s kind of important and I don’t know if I can-”

“Woah, woah, woah, okay,” he replies. “Hey, my mom’s giving me a ride. I’ll be ten minutes, tops. Okay?”

“Okay,” she nods. “Thanks.” She’s not even sure if he heard that last word.

He’s seven minutes actually. Seven minutes between her hanging up the phone and the front door opening, her mom letting him in and telling him she’s up in her room. Every step closer only makes her stomach hurt worse and she prays she’s not headed for a panic attack.

“Hey.” His voice is gentle as he opens the door, stepping into her room cautiously, like she’s in the middle of a minefield. He must have picked up on the tension in her house; rather than draping himself across her bed or sitting on her desk, he lowers himself gently beside her, offering her a comforting smile. The same kind he gave her years ago when she was crying in a bathroom stall. God, she loves him. “Everything okay? You sounded nervous on the phone.”

“Because I was,” she confesses. Her hand wraps around Damian’s, him squeezing tightly, but she doesn’t feel the usual strength she gets from him. There’s just a cold, heavy weight in her stomach. “Oh God.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, rubbing his hand up and down her arm, confusion and compassion in his eyes. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she tells him. Her chest feels like someone is tying a rope around her lungs. The words battle from her mind to her mouth, weary and unwilling. “It’s about my… that doctor’s appointment I had. We found out-”

This is it. The point of no return. No pretending or faking or daydreaming after this.

“Damian… I have cancer.”

Damian shakes his head a little, disbelief written all over his face. He keeps his eyes on her, waiting for her to laugh and tell him she’s kidding, almost willing it so. She wishes. Soon the doubt and hope melt away, his eyes turning sad and his mouth falling open, a small, strangled noise coming out as he realises she’s not kidding. As for her guilt tears her chest open and her face crumples. She begins to untangle herself from him, but he refuses, his arm in a firm grip around her shoulders. Maybe he wants to hold her or maybe he just can’t move, paralysed by what she dropped on him. The longer he goes without talking, the more it hurts her.

“What?” he asks eventually. “You… what?”

“Leukaemia,” she tells him as if that makes it better. He blinks, looking around the room like he’s searching for another answer.

“You have cancer?” he asks. She nods, exhausted from the two sentences she spoke, and he pulls her closer, her head falling onto his shoulder. Tears that aren’t hers fall onto her body and her own wet his shirt. His arms are weak around her as he tries to make sense of it. “How?”

“I don’t know how. It just happened,” she mumbles. “Karma, maybe. I don’t know.”

“Okay then let me talk to Miss Karma because this is… fu-this isn’t…”

“Go on. Say it,” she urges, a grin beginning to tug on her lips. “Just for me.” Maybe this will be the day Damian Hubbard finally says fuck.

“It’s fiddlesticks is what it is.” She laughs and it feels unfamiliar. He pets her hair in a steady rhythm, strength coming back into his body. “So what do you do now? Do you know? What even happens?”

“Okay.” She pulls away from him, seeing for the first time how red his eyes are. “I start… I start getting treatment next Monday.”

“Next Monday?” he interrupts. “But you can’t, we have school. We start school in two days!”

“Yeah I don’t think the cancer gives a shit,” she sighs heavily. “I’m just going to do senior year next year.”

“No,” he whispers, his face nothing short of heartbroken. Part of her is actually kind of weirdly flattered that someone cares so much. Most of her just feels worse every second for doing this to him. “But… we were going to… What about the LGBT society? I’m going to have to run it by myself?” He rakes a hand through his hair and looks over at her. His mouth falls open and his hand drops to his lap. “Oh God I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“For making this about me,” he says. “This is about you.”

“Oh please, the other half of your soul has cancer, you can be a little self-centred,” she says.

“Who said you’re the other half of my soul?” he jokes.

“You did.” She lifts the half-heart around her neck, the twin to the one around his. He smiles sadly, his eyes glistening. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, holding on to the only trace of familiarity. “Besides, the club will survive without me. You can always get Cady to do it. I’m sure she’d love something for her college application.”

“Oh my God, Cady,” he says.

Why did she bring up Cady? she thinks as another wave of sadness crashes over and drowns her.

“Have you told her?” She shakes her head, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“How could I?” she says. “You’re… you’re one thing. Cady’s another.” She leans her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. “I don’t know how to do that to her.” Damian hums in understanding. He doesn’t need to ask what she means. He saw her at her absolute worst five years ago, at her most scared and angry and broken. He’s seen everything there is to her and it hasn’t pushed him away. Cady thinks she’s seen the bad, but that’s just scratching the surface. While she heard how it was back then, Damian lived and breathed it.

What she has with Cady is perfect, far too perfect to be scarred by something like this.

“You know… I could tell her for you,” he offers. “If it’s too much for you.”

“No,” she cuts him off, opening her eyes. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You’re not making me do anything,” he tells her. She nods, but the conversation ends there. Of course he’d do that for her. He’s the most loyal person she’s ever met, worthy of the Hufflepuff badge on his backpack. He’d move Heaven and Earth for the people he loves, especially in their hour of need. Or months of need, she guesses is her case now. He deserves endless happiness and love and joy, and an amazing senior year.

Seconds pass in silence before she croaks out “I’m sorry”.

“Did you just apologise for having cancer?” he asks. He shifts and tilts her head to make her look at him, his hands cupping her face and his eyes severe. She’s never seen him like this before, completely serious, devoid of jokes or laughter, and it makes her nervous. “Janis Catherine Sarkisian, don’t you dare. Don’t you dare apologise for this. This isn’t because of you. This is because… I don’t know. But it’s not you.”

“Okay.” She covers his hands with hers, her breath catching. His thumbs wipe at her wet cheeks and she wonders what she did to deserve him. “Okay, I won’t.”

“Good.” His voice cracks and two tears race each other down his cheek landing in his lap. He takes a heavy, shaking breath before continuing. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.”

“Of course you’d say that,” she mumbles, their clasped hands now sitting between them.

“You will be,” he says again, a fierce determination shining on his face. “Even if I have to go in there and physically fight that cancer myself.”

“You’d win,” she tells him, sniffling. They sit in the quiet, letting the weight of her news settle over both of them, a new and terrifying reality looming in front of them. Then she reaches out and pulls him into a hug; her arms wrapped around him, her head in the crook of his neck. As he hugs her back, she can feel the anxiety in his touch and how his touch is far more careful now. Like she’ll break if he holds her too much. But there’s also courage in there and above all, so much tenderness and it makes her heart grow and almost burst out of her stone cold chest.

“I love you,” she whispers against his shirt.

“I love you too,” he replies, ferocity in his voice, and Janis is struck by just how grateful she is that her best friend is Damian.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls fanfic #mean girls ff #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #cadnis ff #do i have the right to tag as cadnis ff when cady isn't even in this chapter?#pls read my stuff thank u #fic: heart of stone

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 7 years ago

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Homo Ecto Sapiens

Chapter 2 Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Jack Fenton/Maddie Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jack Fenton & Maddie Fenton, Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson Characters: Danny Fenton, Jack Fenton, Maddie Fenton, Jazz Fenton, Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Mr. Lancer (Danny Phantom), Dash Baxter, Lunch Lady (Danny Phantom), Dorathea "Dora" (Danny Phantom), Paulina Sanchez, Valerie Gray, Princess Dorothea, Princess Dora, Skulker (Danny Phantom) Additional Tags: Fix-It, Danny Fenton has ADHD, Multilingual Tucker, Trans Male Character, Multilingual Danny, Bisexual Danny Fenton, Bisexual Tucker Foley Summary:

Danny Fenton stood inside the dark tunnel of the only portal his parents couldn't get to work because he couldn't say no to a dare. He tripped on his way out. Now he has to deal with figuring out how to come out to his parents as being half ghost, while dealing with all the ghosts that come out of the portal.

Tucker and Sam stare at each other. For a handful of moments, neither is entirely sure what they should do. Sam is full of shock and anger and regret and terror. She could've died. Her best friends could have died. How is a teenager even meant to process that? She wants to curl up on the ground and hide from everything in that moment, will all the nasty reality that is Ghosts away. But Tucker is bent over Danny, and Danny is out cold. So she packs away the emotions, cools her shit, and bends down. "You get his legs, I'll take his shoulders. FentonWorks?"

They get him there. Danny's parents are downstairs, working on something. They get Danny on his bed, and Sam slumps against the door. Tucker and Danny skipped over a detention essentially and all three have skipped school. So Tucker goes down to erase the Fenton's voice mailbox and sends out a bug to his own. Sam has no clue why he has that ready but asks if he can do it with her folks' line. He asks for a few minutes. The silence passes, Tucker gets on Danny's laptop. He always fled to the tech when he needed somewhere safe. Eventually, he asks. "You ok? Today went to shit."

"No, I don't think I am. Like, the worst I've got is some bruising that my make up can handle. I need a shower, I guess." They both know why she isn't actually ok. Neither wants to bring it up. So instead, Sam checks Danny's closet and finds something she'd left there a couple months back. "I'm gonna do that actually. Keep an eye on him?" Tucker grunted in acknowledgment. That was the best she'd get so Sam grabbed a spare towel from the dresser and headed to the shower.

When Sam got back she looked over Tucker's shoulder. Images of old ladies in familiar looking uniforms were all over the screen. "Looking her up?"

"If we know more about her then we can talk it out with her right?" Tucker's fingers paused over the keyboard. He stretched, looking over at her. "Right?"

"Probably. Looking to work that Foley Charm on her?" Sam elbowed him lightly in the ribs. Tucker clutched his chest as though he'd been broken. Thank gods for that smile on his face. "Tell me you aren't planning to flirt with her. Danny might get jealous." Tucker snorted.

"I don't think Danny is into old ladies who occasionally burst into flames." Tucker went back to typing and clicking, screen light glaring off his lenses. "So, my theory is that ghosts draw on ambient energy to sustain themselves. When we went into that fight my phone was on like… 50 percent. When we got here it was at 17. So maybe we should carry batteries on us?"

"And our wrist rays." Sam was never letting herself be helpless like that again. "what've you got on her so far?"

"She said the menu hasn't changed in 50 years and she wasn't kidding. So I'm looking back at people employed by Casper back when she was alive, and hoping I can recognize her facial structure."

"Impressive." Sam sighed and looked over at Danny.

He zipped up his suit. Sam made a face at him and pulled off the logo of his dad's face. "You can't go around with this on your chest." He agreed. If Danny ever met aliens of the extradimensional kind, he didn't want them to see his dad's face plastered on him. Danny walked into the tunnel that was his parents' ghost portal, looking all around it. The whispers of those other worlds called out in his head again. As he walked deeper into the portal, Danny saw nothing wrong. Not a nut or bolt out of place. He got to the end. It was dark. Too dark to see anything. Turning back, he kept a hand on the wall to steady himself. His foot hit a raised panel, and Danny leaned to the left for support. There was a click.

Danny opened his eyes and saw Sam looking down at him. Not unusual. The soreness in his muscles, however, was. Danny stopped mid-stretch and winced. "Oh. Right. 20-foot meat monster." Tucker was at his desk, turned around in the chair and giving him that frown he had when Dash had slammed Danny into a locker. "How long was I out for?"

"Four days." Tucker reached under Danny's bed and lifted up a bag of Nasty Burger.

"Four Days?!"

"Nah, like, 2 hours dude." Tuck chuckled and handed him a wrapped burger. "You need this dude, that fight took a shit ton outta you."

“Don’t I know it.” Danny unwrapped the burger and sank his teeth in. He'd been hungrier than he thought. It felt like a blink before the burger was gone. "Thanks, dude, I really needed that. We basically skipped lunch, didn't we?" That thought had a horrible domino effect and Danny tore the burger wrapping in half. "Fuck, my parents are gonna kill me!"

"I erased the voicemail from your box, mine, and Sam's. Don't worry about that."

"Speaking of, how ya doin Sam?" Danny turned, looking his friend over and wincing at the bruises on her arms. “Fuck, the meat pile did that?”

“Yeah, turns out being grabbed up by a bunch of proceeded corpses can do some damage.” Sam shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t fix with some concealer and sleeves.”

“It’s still warm though,” Danny said. “You good baking yourself?”

“The heaters in the school barely work, and it’s nearly October, Danny. Things have cooled down plenty.” Sam frowned and looked over to Tucker. “Do head injuries affect the perception of temperature?”

“I’m sure they can. If only someone hadn’t summoned up a meat-obsessed lunch lady with a menu change.” Tucker paused and raised a brow. “Actually, how in the hell did you even get them to change it? Nevermind the why.”

“The why, Tucker, is that schools need to promote healthier changes in the food we consume.” Sam had that fire in her eyes. Again. Danny let out a long sigh, which went ignored by his bickering friends.

“And removing an entire food group from the menu was your solution?”

“It’s one we don’t even need Tucker! Do you know how inefficient the transfer of calories from meat into our bodies is?”

“We need protein, Sam! If there’s anything that the Lunch Lady said truthfully it’s that! Look at Danny! He barely gets any protein, you can see how that’s turned out for him.”

“My dude, I’m not the only skinny person here.”

“And whether or not we have meat and protein isn’t your decision to make for us all, Sam!” Tucker glared balefully at the vegan and stood up from Danny’s chair. “You had to be an individual and have all your individual needs met over what anyone else wanted, didn’t you? No one but you even wanted this menu change and I’m going to fix it!” Tucker stormed out of the room, leaving the door open.

“Oh like Hell you’re gonna undo all my hard work!” Sam barged out as well, completely forgetting Danny as she slammed his door shut. And Danny stared at that door for a moment before groaning into his pillow.

“This is going to be a whole thing, isn’t it?” For several moments, Danny laid there and stared up at the constellations he’d put up on his ceiling in glow in the dark stickers. His stomach reminded him of its existence, and Danny groaned again. He still had some allowance left, so he went out and headed to the Nasty Burger. Considering Tucker’s words and how much he’d done that day, Danny ordered a full meal.

After he’d eaten and walked it off on the way home, Danny let what had happened that day go through his mind. Even as he fought off a small angry blob with his wrist ray, growling at it. “Ghosts aren’t mindlessly violent beings. I know that.” He needed to believe that. “So, that means that she can be calmed, somehow. She kept going on and on about the benefits of meat, and she died years ago…” An email notification popped up on Danny’s computer, and he sighed. “Right, homework assigned by Lancer. What would I do without Tuck?”

The next day, Danny pulled on one of his darker shirts - a gift from Sam with some constellation’s accurately displayed - and some jeans. His parents didn’t come up to join him and Jazz that morning, which was likely for the best. Danny didn’t need their ghost radar pointing at him before he could figure out how to break their biases. The second his cereal was finished, though, Danny pulled out his journal and attached pencil. “No,” Danny snapped when he heard Jazz take a familiar breath. “It’s not a diary, no you may not read it. For the 11th time, Spazz.” One weird benefit of super hearing - I can tell when she’s about to speak. Everyone had different rhythms for when they spoke and when they were thinking etcetera. Danny knew his sister’s patterns almost as well as Tucker and Sam’s.

Danny wrote into his journal a goal of recording his encounters with apparently sapient ghosts and how quickly he managed to pacify them. If only he could think of how to pacify this one.

Once the hybrid got to school - later than he would’ve been had those damned blobs not been so interested in fucking with him - Danny groaned as he was dragged to the Vice Principal’s office. There he found Tucker, who was glaring down at the desk in just the right angle to look like he was glaring directly ahead. A trick he’d developed for gathering valuable passwords while tricking Lancer and other authorities into thinking he was just a semi-rebellious teen. Danny couldn’t tell what Tucker could possibly be trying to gather from the desk now, but he may have just been scowling. Tucker was complicated that way.

“Take a seat, Mr. Fenton.” Danny obeyed and took his seat, looking steadfastly at the space just behind Lancer’s head. “Tell me, gentlemen, how and why did you leave my office when both of you were already being punished for starting a food fight in the cafeteria?” Before either could come up with an answer, Lancer slammed his hand down hard on the desk, and Danny flinched. “What could possibly have possessed you two to skip school for the rest of the day?”

Danny squirmed a bit, while Tucker took even, obviously measured breaths. He then looked up at Lancer directly. “We were worried about Sam, sir. She hadn’t answered any of her texts, and she always answers even when we’re fighting to make sure we know she’s safe.” Not untrue, Sam wouldn’t have been able to answer a text if they tried that. Danny nodded along to Tucker’s story.

“We left out the window to find her, which took forever since she had gone to find a way to help organize something for the school.” Danny put on his most apologetic face. “We’re truly sorry about ditching you, Mr. Lancer, but we had to make sure our friend was safe, you see. We wanted to make sure none of the jocks or anyone had gone and done something horrible to her as revenge for getting the menu changed for a week.”

Lancer glared between the two of them for several seconds more, and Danny fought to keep himself still. “Fine,” Lancer finally allowed. “I will be following up with Ms. Manson to confirm all of this, but you won’t be receiving too harsh a punishment for looking out for your friend. For endangering yourselves by leaving through the window, however, and for leaving without simply telling me, you will be serving both lunch detention and after-school detention. Do you understand, boys?”

“Of course, Mr. Lancer.” It amazed Danny, at times, that he and Tucker could speak in unison. They were like twins.

“Dismissed. You two best not be late to my class.”

On the way to class, Danny brought up his thoughts on trying to appease the Lunch Lady. “Her name is Agatha,” Tuck said. “Agatha Reece. And maybe you could, I dunno, teach her about the health crisis in America? Help me organize the school to reform the menu the right way?”

“You want it changed too now? I thought you were gonna get it changed back early, or something?”

“Oh no, the food around here sucks either way.” Tucker rolled his eyes. “I just wish we had like, a better storage of better food in general. I could recommend my uncle and aunt’s farm for fresh, nearby food products.”

“If only we knew how Sam had convinced the school to do this whole ‘vegie week’ thing.” Danny shook his head. “That’s what really doesn’t make sense to me. We’ve only been in school for like, a month or so. How the hell did Sam ‘wear them down’ so quickly?”

“No clue,” Tucker growled. For a moment the hair on Danny’s nape stood on end at the sound. “But, I’m going to make a petition, and head around the school getting signatures for a better permanent change decided on by the students.”

Danny patted Tucker’s shoulder and nodded somberly. “Leave some printer paper for the rest of us at least?”

Tucker raised his nose, Danny now straining to hold in the laughter in front of the door. “Sorry Danny, but a man on a mission has to go to all lengths to complete his quest.”

Danny bowed at the waist. “Of course, Friar Tuck, how could I possibly forget?”

“You are forgiven, peasant Daniel.” Tucker laughed and pulled Danny into the classroom. Things would be alright. Danny just needed to weather the storm and make sure both of his friends were still friends by the end of it.

It proved far more difficult a task done than said. The three had most classes together, but Tucker was busily writing something down every few seconds in a second journal in his desk while he worked. Tuck had the most fascinating form of ambidextrousness. He barely paid any attention to Danny’s attempts to start a conversation and crumpled up any notes about Sam he slid over.

Similarly, Sam was ignoring him almost entirely. She took her notes, but every time she caught him whispering to Tucker, she glared and went cold on Danny himself. Am I not allowed to talk to both of my friends?

Lunch came around, Lancer had them eating in his room, and Danny had never been more grateful to Tucker’s mom than he had been when Tuck handed him an extra bagged lunch. “Tuck, you are the best.”

“I know it, dude.”

“Gentlemen! This is meant to be a time of quiet reflection upon your misdeeds.” Lancer glared at them until the teens went to silently eating, and Lancer went back to whatever he was doing on his computer. If Danny focused on the man’s headphones hard enough he could pick up the faint sound of… blasters? Weird.

At the end of the day, however, while the two were meant to be heading to detention, Tucker was going around and asking groups of friends who were lingering about something and holding up a clipboard that Danny was almost certain he stole from his dad’s office. Along with that pen. Never was Danny ever earlier than Tucker to something, but apparently, detention was one of those things. Sam, surprisingly, was also there.

“Lancer got you too?” Danny asked as he swept a bit nearer to the goth

“I was gone all day.” Sam shrugged, pushing the few remains of grass and mud into a pile and then grabbing a dustpan. “Plus I wanted to help clean it up anyway. We need this place to eat in after all.”

“Actually, I heard Jerry and Katelyn at least were eating on the theater stage.” The two scooped everything up into a trash bag with the dustpan. “They were inviting some other people to bring sandwiches and chips and stuff.”

“Oh wow,” Tucker called out from where Danny was very sure he shouldn’t have been able to hear them. “No one wanted to eat garbage right from the ground? I’m surprised, shocked even.”

“Had you actually been there to see, Tucker, there were plenty of people eating peacefully in the cafeteria today!” Sam looked downright murderous and stomped off to clean away from Tucker. Danny sighed a heavy sigh and shook his head.

The detention had gone on for an hour, but it’d felt like forever. Danny watched both his friends march off in different directions and groaned. Another friendless night for him. After a trip to the Nasty Burger, Danny did a little walk around the city. A few ghosts that he could see when the world lost focus skittered away from him, or ignored him entirely. Some attacked, but his wrist ray had yet to run out of juice even though he forgot to charge it last night. “Maybe something to do with my other self. Gonna have to ask mom and dad about that.” A shiver ran down Danny’s spine, a puff of mist coming out of his mouth and he looked around, letting his senses shift into that surreal state of his ghostly self. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Relaxing, Danny sighed and headed home.

"Danny!" His dad, Jack Fenton, only seemed to speak in exclamation marks. Danny wondered if he'd ever had an inside voice. "C'mon, dinner's ready son!"

Danny raised a brow. "Who cooked?" He'd eaten his Nasty Burger meal and was pretty sure he got all he needed.

"I did!" On the other hand, more food that wasn't infected with ectoplasmic residue sounded nice. Danny set down his bag and headed into the kitchen, where his dad had set out chicken, mashed potatoes, garlic bread, and spinach. His mom and sister were already sitting and eating, and Danny gave them both a wave.

"Hi, Danny! Juice is in the fridge. Jazz reminded your father and I we need to refresh our minds with some air every now and then. I thought, why not a family dinner?" Mom shrugged as she picked up a chicken leg. "Jack insisted on cooking."

"Mom," Jazz said in her best calming voice, "Dad never mutates the food."

While Mom and Jazz debated who had the bigger mishaps with ectoplasm - Danny felt the Christmas turkey and Dad dragging them into a world of blinding perpetual light ranked as the biggest mishaps period - Danny grabbed himself a plate and fruit punch. Jazz clearly grabbed some groceries before telling their parents to surface.

Halfway through his meal, a thought struck Danny. "Hey Dad, Mom? How does ectoplasm interact with electricity in its rawest most natural form? The ectoplasm not the electricity."

Jazz stared at him in betrayal, Why written in her expression. His parents, however, jumped on the thought of their son having an interest in their work. Danny had never seen his dad swallow food that fast.

"Ya see Danno, ectoplasm as it is when we retrieve it is naturally an energy thief. In relation to electromagnetic radiation, it soaks in any and all of it from the area with the exclusion of green visible light. That's why it feels so cold."

"If we can refine our engines properly we can utilize the flip side of that natural state," his mom added, "We could revolutionize energy efficiency in technology around the world!"

"It can store up a lot of power, but once it hits it's maximum?" Dad held his hands together then spread them out so fast he almost smacked Jazz and Danny. "It all comes out in an intense burn! Ectoplasm is either plasma hot or cold as space. When it's cold, it'd drain the power out of everything around it."

Danny nodded, letting the info process for a couple of moments while he ate. "So if, say, a ghost was to eat human food…?"

"Well," his mom twirled her fork around. "It likely wouldn't, but if it did the ghost would soak up all the energy that could be gotten out of the material in the food, leaving nothing but ashes."

Danny nodded, curiosity satisfied, and steered the conversation elsewhere. Once he was done clearing off his plate, Danny was struck with a realization. It was the sort of thing that happened all the time, when a thought lingered in his head, waiting to present itself. Usually, that was artistic inspiration. Now he knew exactly how to calm down Agatha. Up the stairs, he ran to his computer.

AO3

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Jazz Fenton #Jack Fenton #Maddie Fenton #Tucker Foley #Sam Manson #Mr. Lancer #Dash Baxter #Lunch Lady #Phanfic #Fanfic #rexy writes #Homo Ecto Sapiens

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callmeakumatized · 7 years ago

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My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend - Ch. 18

Prev. Ch. Ao3 FF.net

Marinette and Plagg Flashback, part 2/2

Marinette clamped her hands over her mouth, but the scream wouldn't stop coming. And, dang it, she couldn't stop staring.

That…that seriously was exactly what she thought it was, right?

'Cause cats that talk don't actually exist.

When her lungs finally begged for mercy, Marinette let in a large gasp of air, preparing for Scream Session Round 2.

It only came out as a flat wheeze.

Luckily, her lack of oxygen to dive into a full-fledged scream turned out to be a bit of a blessing. Red-faced and close to hyperventilating or not, she was thankful she was able, in the slight lull from one frantic, panicked sound to another, hear what was going on in the room next door. Or, rather, noticed the deep, sudden silence that was once a busy fencing practice that had just been shocked into silence, presumably by some girl's blood-curdling scream.

Not a moment later, hurried footsteps and quiet voices could be heard coming up to the locker room.

AHHHHH!

Marinette looked quickly around, trying for all her might to keep her head on and think of some sort of plan – because that's what Ladybug does, dang it – and failing at everything. Tikki was currently busy being absolutely no help. The red Kwami was going in dizzying circles, deep in the throes of her own thorough freak-out. And the little Kwami in the locker didn't look like it would be of much use either, considering the large yawn he had just let loose before curling up in a ball.

Closing her eyes, Marinette thought hard...and came up with a plan. A…crazy plan. Per usual.

Shoes, phone, Kwami, locker, Adrien. Shoes, phone, Kwami, locker, Adrien.

Marinette's head did nothing but swim around with those thoughts, the sounds of footsteps getting closer.

"Tikki!" she yelled quietly (yes, it's a thing). "Spots on!"

Shoes –

Ladybug grabbed the pair of shoes from Adrien's locker, leaping over the set and reaching the door in a quick bound. She took the laces and wrapped them around and through each other and the handles until there was a thick, tight, and super cute bow holding the doors secure.

Phone –

Skittering back around a way where the students that had just tried to jimmy the door wouldn't see Ladybug messing around in their locker room, Ladybug wrapped around another row and skidded to a stop in front of Adrien's locker. Above all else, Ladybug was determined not to make this trip a total bust – while Chat Noir's secret identity had been a big blow to her internal functioning systems, she hadn't had time to deal with the emotions buzzing around that, and, therefore, still needed to nab that phone and delete that stupid message. She grabbed the phone and then stared at her next target.

Kwami –

This part was going to be a bit harder, maybe, and, depending on how fast she was, could blow up in her face.

A strained smile was the only thing she offered the suddenly suspicious Kwami before grabbing him around the middle. The banging on the large room's door and the excited voices on the other side of the row of frosted windows covered up the mewling yowl the kitten let loose.

Locker –

Nope. That part of the plan wasn't going as planned. She had hoped to make it look like Adrien's locker wasn't actually messed with, but as fast as Ladybug had grabbed the black Kwami from inside, said Kwami started fighting against her grip, phasing through her fingers almost faster than she was able to grab onto him.

"Get your paws off me!" he yelled at her, skittering around the air.

"I need your help!" Ladybug whisper-screeched back, landing hard on her stomach after another failed attempt to keep the Kwami still. "Please! I'll bring you back – I'm Ladybug for goodness' sakes! Can't you just trust me!?"

Plagg laughed humorlessly, settling on top of the locker she had just dropped ungraciously from.

"What's going on in there!?" a stern, pompous voice came from the other side of the door.

M. Dargencort.

Marinette looked back to the cat Kwami with the biggest eyes she could pull, begging him to please help her.

Plagg only stared back, tail flicking.

Just when Ladybug thought she'd lost all hope and was about to make her exit, the raspy voice replied, lilting in a way that was almost teasing.

"You're the baker girl, right?"

"Yes?" Ladybug whipped around, looking frantically between the kitty and the door to the locker room. Her feet directed her backward, but her eyes stayed on the cat who had just floated up to her.

"I like cheese. Feed me, and I will stay with you."

"Ah, yea-!"

"Mess with me or my boy, and you will wish that you had never laid eyes on me."

"-aaaauuuhhhhhhhh…" Ladybug finished with another wheeze. The door to the room banged, like someone was trying to push their way in.

Marinette didn't have a choice.

She'd already stolen a phone, anyway.

Could it really get much worse?

As she zipped away, Kwami in hand, she heard a loud, familiar voice yell out from the locker room.

"Plagg!? PLAAAGG!"

Although Tikki had seemed reasonably twitchy at the school, Ladybug resisted the urge to transform as of right now just in case her Kwami had come to her senses enough to scold her. For right now, Ladybug needed a clear thought process, not a little bug laying into her. That would inevitably come sooner or later, and, while she could still choose, Ladybug chose later for the time being.

Plagg, meanwhile, poked around in Marinette's room, ignoring Ladybug stomping around and pacing, and definitely ignored every probing question she shot at him, trying to make sure he really was Adrien's Kwami, that he was Chat's Kwami, that there weren't other cat Miraculous holders, and so on. He seemed to draw the line at a favorite colors comparison, choosing then to float away.

"So why am I here?" he finally asked, tone drawling lazily with an edge to it Ladybug did not like. In the next moment, Plagg tapped on the computer keyboard and, for some reason Ladybug couldn't make out, her hidden folder of Adrien pictures blew up in full view, Plagg viewing the horde with a wicked grin on his face. "Oooo, nice collection!"

Ladybug was frozen. How did he even find that!?

(No really? Where did he find it? Because she hadn't been able to find it the last time she looked…)

Another click on the keyboard and a collection of documents popped onto the screen.

"Save me, Adrien! Golden hair and lipid pools of green. How I long for –"

"AHHH! STOP DOING THAT HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT!?"

Ladybug leapt to the computer, exiting out of everything as quickly as possible

Where had that even come from!? GEEZ, 14-year-old Marinette was whack –

"AHHH! TIKKI, SPOTS OFF!"

Marinette was already rushing across the room – HOW DID HE EVEN GET UP THERE THAT FAST!? – to her loft bed where Plagg sat lazily, looking through the contents of her diary.

"February 14th, 2015," he read out loud. "Today was a crazy day! Adrien wrote a love poem to me and –"

Marinette made it up the stairs just to see that Plagg had already floated back down.

"Tikki!" she begged. "Help me!"

"I actually responded! It was amazing! Except I forgot to sign the letter. I am such an airhead!"

Tikki, finally realizing what was going on, darted after her other half, Marinette coming from the other direction.

"Then Kim got Akumatized because of Chloe (no surprise there) –"

Marinette ran smack into Tikki in midair, Plagg somehow suddenly sprawled out on her origami garland, swinging back and forth while continuing to read.

"…and I had to KISS CHAT NOIR – AH HAHAHAHA!"

The diary fell with a smack on the floor, and Marinette finally managed to grab onto the little imp, fingers unnecessarily tight around his scrawny middle. Tikki took the diary back to its "magic box", slamming it in place and snapping the lid shut. Both Tikki and Marinette took a breather from their sudden, completely unnecessary exertion.

"What," Marinette pushed out through a sharp exhale, "do you want to eat?"

Plagg grinned widely.

"Smart girl," he said triumphantly, phasing through her fists easily and up to her face. Tikki joined the two a moment later. When the Kwami looked at her ward and opened her mouth, Marinette waved a dismissive hand in a I'll tell you later, but it's messed up and you're not going to like it gesture. (Yes…it was a thing. Especially between those two.)

"Cheese, right?" she said, raking in a deep breath and shaking her head, thinking. "Cheese… What – What about…gâteau de fromage?"

Plagg went still, one whisker twitching, his eyes taking on a slight faraway look.

"Cheese…cake?"

"…because he would never give up on anyone, you know? I mean, yeah, he's just beautiful to look at, but…he's beautiful on the inside too. Not…Not perfect but…beautiful." A pause. "Adrien's genuine. I always knew that if he…If we were together, he'd never let me down."

Plagg, who was making gagging noises during the whole recorded speech, made an exaggerated gagging sound at the last sentence. Tikki slapped him.

"To erase your message, press 7. To save it in – "

A loud, long beeeep sounded through the speaker as Marinette hurried to erase the message.

"Message erased. To listen to – "

Marinette pressed the red button to end the call and heaved a sigh of relief. Her body flopped over the counter, face pressed into the cool surface.

"So…" Tikki began, Marinette only half listening (Incoming Lecture, T-2 seconds and counting!) "What are you going to do now, Marinette? You have Adrien's phone and his Kwami. And he knows his Kwami was taken. He's probably freaking out, Marinette."

"I know, I know," Marinette told the countertop. Another sigh escaped her that turned more into a raspy groan, as she raised her head. "I…I have a plan, Tikki, but…"

"But I'm not going to like it." It wasn't a question.

"But you're not going to like it."

"Bahaha then I'm probably going to love it!" Plagg said excitedly, shooting up in the air to touch cheeks with Tikki, giving the red Kwami a glinting look, before coming to sit in front of Marinette's face. A smirk made it onto her face despite herself. For the short time that she had known Plagg, he seemed a bit of a…troublemaker of sorts. A rule-breaker. This was something Marinette could get used to. Especially in the fact that suddenly she had someone on her team for her shenanigans. Suddenly Tikki's scolding glare toward the two of them seemed more humorous than guilt-inducing. She turned her gaze away from Tikki and settled on Plagg, coming to stroke his little head while she told her plan.

It was stupid. It was beyond stupid. It was ludicrous and he wasn't going to fall for it and he would know it was her and he'd break up with her and never speak to her again and – !

"Girl," Plagg said from the yarn ball cushion she had hastily made for him. "Chill."

Ladybug took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way it shook.

"So…it really has been Adrien this whole time?" she asked the Kwami for the sixth time that night.

Plagg promptly bit her.

While she sucked on her finger and scowled at the black cat, Plagg sat looking completely unaffected.

"I warned you what would happen if you asked me that again," was his only reply. "And I don't know why you do. You know him better than anyone. Well, anyone besides me."

"I thought I did…"

"Look, Chica," Plagg started, turning fully around and looking up at Ladybug directly. "The boy has to act a certain way at all times, never has a chance to be himself. He wears masks constantly."

Something Ladybug had definitely been piecing together in the last few hours.

"Who would want to act like 'Adrien Agreste' all the time? A superhero? Pft. No. The dude is the same person. So sue him if he acts like the free cat he is when he dons the ears. Which look fabulous on him, by the way. And I know how much you like the way he looks"

Ladybug smiled a little at Plagg's words. Adrien in cat ears…

That…

That was something she could definitely get used to thinking about. Mulling over. Fantasiz- NOPE. NOT GOING THERE RIGHT NOW.

Ladybug fanned her suddenly warm face. Chat Noir…was a good kisser. That…That meant that Adrien Agreste was a good kisser. And that she – she! – Marinette Dupain-Cheng, had macked on, sucked face with, kissed the Bejeebus out of Adrien That's-A-Fine-Pair-Of-Lips Agreste.

"Nnnnggg…"

Plagg rolled his eyes at his temporary ward, muttering something about 'hormones'. Suddenly his ears twitched and he froze, listening.

"Ladybug, one more thing before we wrap this up. Well, two. If you mess up my boy, I will mess you up. And the other thing. I need more cheesecake in my life."

Ladybug didn't have time to respond before she finally heard what Plagg must have noticed before: the sound of running feet headed their direction.

Briefly, Ladybug wondered if this was a wise decision. Sure, she felt more secure in the mask, but…technically, this was her boyfriend. If anyone would recognize her, it would be him. But if anything, Ladybug getting caught would just lead to something of an identity reveal. Marinette being caught would only lead to a disaster. Though hopefully, with all the changes she had made, her identity – classmate or girlfriend – would go unnoticed. Sneakers from her mother, a flowery swim cap over her hair, fluffy pink mittens, an oversized t-shirt, and a cheap black mask over her real Ladybug one, and she was set.

In all honesty, if he hadn't recognized her when she dressed up as a garbage-picking delivery girl with a motorcycle helmet and a gross poncho, he probably wouldn't notice her real identity now. It was too late to change anyway.

A wild-eyed young man came barreling around the corner of the alley. Though Ladybug had known he was coming, she was entirely unprepared for a solid mass of lithe boy to ram straight into her. The impact made her yelp and both of them were suddenly slammed against the brick wall. Ladybug was about to make a quip about the situation when she froze, feeling the sudden presence of a hand tracing up her side.

One look at his face and Ladybug could tell Adrien hadn't done it on purpose. He was still blinking dazedly, trying to steady himself, and seemed to just use her as leverage to straighten up. He hadn't moved, however, and Ladybug, who hadn't planned on being this close to him right now for many different reasons, panicked. One look in her eyes and everything would be over. She needed to do something! She needed to do something right now!

Hands deprived of their previous package (had Plagg and his cushion flown into the garbage can? oops), Ladybug looked somewhere – anywhere – for some sort of distraction, especially when Adrien, now bending down to inspect what his hand had grazed just a moment before, dragged his fingers across her waist again. Cursed suit! She was going to be figured out from her danged suit! Looking around frantically, she saw the picture still clutched in his other hand and made a mitten-fingered grab for it.

Ladybug was, temporarily – or maybe eternally, she hadn't decided yet – lost to the world. She had seen every photoshoot of Adrien's, every tabloid piece, every blog snapshot, and every phone photo she could get her hands on. Dating Chat Noir had toned that down considerably, and now, looking at this picture, Marinette felt her throat go very, very dry. It was evidentially a formal wear shoot, the lighting dark and dramatic and the promps and Adrien set in front of a bright green screen, as if he were posing at night in a scene that could be put anywhere. He must have taken it from the collection as something that definitely wouldn't be missed. In all modeling aspects, it was a bad shot – his face was scrunched up a bit, cheeks puffed out as if he was about to pop with laughter. His suit coat was hung carelessly over his shoulder and he slouched over with one hand on his knee.

It was perfect. A perfect shot of a carefree Adrien with the perfect backdrop to make his green eyes stand out. He was happy, and Ladybug was overjoyed.

When Adrien tentatively lifted up the shirt she had over her suit a little, and then lightly brushed his fingers over it again, Ladybug spoke automatically, forgetting what they were actually doing there.

"You can touch more of that if you want to," she almost whispered, still a little breathless from staring at her newest treasure.

When she felt the form next to her stiffen, Ladybug blinked slowly.

Well crap.

She whipped around to see the damage that had been done, the irreparable tear in their relationship that screamed of bad trust and ill-usage and overall realization gleaming from the tears in his eyes…

All she saw, however, was a red-faced boy frozen with his hand still outstretched, staring into space.

"You – Your phone and cat's in the garbage. Sorry. I-love-you-k-thanks-bye!"

Ladybug dashed out of the alley clutching the picture to her chest, laughing maniacally at what her life had become.

A few things started happening in the next week and following year since the Kwami Disaster.

Marinette started keeping cheese in her locker for her new friend.

For some reason, mysterious things started happening around the school. Some said it was a ghost pulling pranks. Pranks that Marinette and Plagg thought were quite funny.

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng was almost able to talk to Adrien Agreste full-on in the eyes.

…Almost.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #ladrien #ladybug #adrien agreste #ladybug x adrien #plagg #tikki #marichat #ladynoir #adrienette #adrinette #fanfic #fanfiction #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #chat noir

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whimzea-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Best Boyfriend I Ever Had cont.

Here be pre-Grethan

“I hate men,” Grayson said viciously, tossing his gym bag towards his closet. Well, it wasn’t really a closet- more like a chair that currently contained all of his shit. That’s what happened when you were sleeping on someone’s couch.

“Ooh, she’s feisty today,” James whistled, looking up from his computer. “What happened, honey?”

“You know hot guy from the gym, Adam? Well, today I was talking to him, like always, being super cute by the way, and he mentions that he and his girlfriend are going to Sacramento this weekend. His girlfriend. Can you believe that?”

Grayson ripped off his sweatshirt and stomped into the kitchen, throwing open the refrigerator door.

“How dare he be heterosexual when the Grayson Dolan is interested in him?” James gasped, putting a hand to his chest dramatically. Grayson flipped him off.

“And then,” Grayson continued, slamming his smoothie ingredients on the counter and plugging in the blender, “I went to the apartment to film, and Ethan was a total asshole. We filmed forever, and Ethan had the balls to tell me that it was my fault the video didn’t look good, because I had moved out and ‘our chemistry was off.’’

Grayson dumped everything into the blender and put on the lid, pressing the start button and watching with a bit too much joy as fruit and yogurt and protein powder were pummeled into submission.

“I’m sick of them. Every single one,” Grayson snarled when the blender was off. He poured his drink into a glass and downed a quarter of it in one gulp. “Even my barista at Starbucks was terrible. And don’t even get me started on my fucking Uber driver. He was the worst.”

Before James could reply, the buzzer on the door went off. James shrugged apologetically and hurried to the door, pressing the button to let the person in. Ten seconds later there was a knock on the door, and James peered through the hole in his door, wincing when he saw who it was.

“It’s Ethan.”

“Oh my God!” Grayson cried from the kitchen. “He treats me like shit and then doesn’t even have the decency to let me hate him in peace!”

Grayson stomped to the door and James hopped out of his path of destruction.

“What do you want?” Grayson demanded of his twin, Ethan jumping back slightly at the door being opened so violently.

“Uh, well, you weren’t answering your phone, so I thought I’d come over...” Ethan said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

“If I wanted to talk to you, I would have answered the phone. Dumbass.” Grayson moved to close the door, but Ethan held out an arm and slipped inside the apartment.

“Excuse me, no one invited you inside.” Grayson tried to push Ethan back out the door, but adulthood had left Ethan a couple of inches taller and as solid as a rock.

“Listen, Gray,” Ethan said, closing the door behind him. Grayson crossed his arms and huffed, and James escaped up to the loft to get out of the line of fire. “I’m sorry I was such an asshole today. It was uncalled for.”

“No shit,” Grayson shot back. “Can you go now?”

Ethan ignored him. “It’s just weird, being alone in the apartment. I think it’s making me go a little crazy.”

“Jesus, Ethan. First it ‘ruined our chemistry,’ and now it’s making you go crazy? What else are you going to blame on me moving out? The Flint water crisis? World hunger?”

“C’mon. Can you at least try to see things from my perspective?” Ethan asked, following Grayson into the kitchen.

“I don’t think I’m capable of seeing things through the eyes of a manchild in his mid-twenties,” Grayson snapped. “You’re not stupid. You can live your life without me holding your hand. If you want someone to hold your hand, I would recommend getting a wife.”

Grayson took another gulp of his smoothie, and Ethan slumped onto one of the kitchen stools. “The last thing I want is a wife.”

“Then invest in some testicles and learn how to live your own life. You have friends. You have hobbies. Go do them. Go on dates with beautiful women. You’re young, you’re wealthy. You can do anything you want. A hell of a lot more than sitting with me at home like you’re eighty.”

Grayson thought that Ethan might actually have processed someone of what he’d said. But then Ethan opened his mouth.

“Look, I know you’re just crashing here until you find your own place, but do you really like sleeping on James’ couch? Why don’t you just come home and look for a place?”

Grayson could have ripped out his hair. “I tried that, dickhead. You scowled at me every time I came home from looking at places, and your only contribution to our conversations about apartment-hunting was that every place had bed bugs.”

Ethan couldn’t defend himself against those accusations, so he looked down at the counter, drawing figure eights into it with his finger tip.

“So, I’ll stay here, and you go home and et started on all of that living your life stuff, alright?” Grayson crossed his arms and looked at Ethan expectantly.

Ethan nodded sadly, like he’d been denied an extra piece of candy.

“Good. I’ll be over tomorrow to film after I go meet with the realtor to look at another apartment. And you better not be an asshole when I get there.”

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imagineproduce101 · 8 years ago

Text

Colors Showing

Upon meeting Hwang Minhyun, the CEO of vampire-run company Empire, you’re intimidated by his cold nature and enormous levels of success. As the only human working at Empire, you’re bound to get yourself in a few sticky situations, but you’d never guessed that you’d be falling for your boss.

for anon who requested vampire!minhyun

in the same universe as moonstone

warnings for drinking blood

“Ah, no, no, no, no,” you groaned, bouncing on the balls of your feet, periodically glancing at your watch as though it would make time slow. “Today’s the worst day for this to happen.”

You were currently on the bus in morning traffic, and your job interview for the biggest shot in your life was in 10 minutes. You were half an hour away.

The bus inched slowly through the thick traffic, drawing closer and closer to your destination. By the time you were able to finally extract yourself from the crowd on the bus, you were ten minutes late to your interview. When you raced onto the elevator of the huge skyscraper that housed Empire and Co, you were fifteen minutes late. By the time you dashed to the receptionist desk, hair messy and breathing hard, you were twenty minutes late to your job interview for salesperson at Empire and Co, one of the largest corporations in the world.

“Name?” The receptionist asked, not even looking up as her perfectly manicured nails tapped away on the keyboard.

“(y/n) (y/l/n),” you said breathlessly, doing your best to smooth down your suit jacket.

The receptionist looked up sharply, nose wrinkled as she made eye contact with you. Her eyes turned a slight tinted red, as she handed you a visitor badge, her cold, elegant fingers brushing against yours.

You did your best to ignore her stare as you made your way to the conference room where the interviews were being held, pushing the door open tentatively.

“Who is it?” A male voice asked sharply, and you stumbled inside, straightening up quickly as you scanned the room. There were five males in total, four of them sitting in folding chairs, and the fifth standing in front of them. His presence was commanding, and you’d recognize those sharp cheekbones and piercing eyes anywhere—Hwang Minhyun.

“I’m (y/n), one of the applicants,” you managed to stammer out, hurrying inside to take the final seat at the back of the conference room.

“You’re late,” Minhyun drawled, eyes pinning you down as though you were a lowly bug.

“It won’t happen again,” you rushed to say, half-bowing from your seat. One of the other applicants turned in his seat and faced you, scoffing. His crimson irises made your blood run cold as you realized just what kind of situation you’d gotten yourself into. Empire was known for being an almost exclusively vampire-run corporation. You were one of the few humans brave enough to even apply for a job there, and it was honestly a miracle that you’d secured an interview at all.

“Now, as I was explaining,” Minhyun began pacing back and forth in front of the room, hands clasped behind his back, “we’re looking to expand our market. We need a salesperson who thinks quickly on their feet, is innovative, and a problem-solver.” You perked up at that—those were definitely words that you’d used on your resume. “This interview will be conducted in two segments. The first half will be the group interview—obviously, I’ll be asking you all questions. Feel free to answer them if you feel comfortable, and if you do not, I won’t pressure you. The second half will be a more hands-on project. I’ll be giving each of you an information packet, and will expect a detailed report on it. You’ll be giving those to me at the end of this interview.”

You nodded to yourself—you could totally do this. All it would take is a little concentration and hard work.

“So, first question,” Minhyun said with an eerily charming smile, eyes darting down to the paper in front of him. “What strengths do you possess that will benefit this company?”

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror, doing your best to not burst out into tears. Apparently, a little concentration and hard work weren’t the only things necessary when you were the only human in a room of overbearing, obnoxious vampires who refused to do anything except talk over you and interrupt you. For the entirety of the question segment, whenever you’d tried to say something or answer a question, one of the other applicants would rudely interrupt you, and you were incredibly infuriated at how they were treating you.

You glared back at your reflection in the mirror, gritting your teeth. I can do this, you said firmly to yourself.

You pushed yourself away from the bathroom counter and stalked back into the conference room, ready to take on the project portion with a new vigor and willpower.

“Here are your information packets for this next portion,” Minhyun said, gesturing as his secretary handed you five thick bundles of paper. Flipping through it, you noticed it was about a particularly big sale that Empire had made to the government of New Zealand, in which their health care sector had signed a deal to have Empire be their sole supplier—Empire was the leading producer in plastic bags for blood. It was simple information, and would be easy enough to present. “Now, I expect a full report in thirty minutes, starting now.”

“Um, excuse me?” You said timidly, glancing around you. The others had started working already, chatting with each other. “Excuse me?” You tried again, this time raising your voice significantly. The others stopped to stare at you, Minhyun glancing up casually from his tablet, one elegant eyebrow raised to let you know that he was listening. “Do you have a projector I can use?”

One of the other applicants snorted, whispering something under his breath. The others in the room stifled laughter, but you just frowned, unable to know what he’d said due to your sub-par human hearing.

“We can arrange,” Minhyun said simply, turning back to his tablet. You nodded, willing yourself to not cry again as you pulled your computer out from your bag, immediately powering up PowerPoint. You’d show these assholes how reports were supposed to be done.

As your presentation came to an end, the final ‘Questions’ slide fading away, your confidence began fading away as well as you were met by five blank stares. You’d been so confident in your ability to present well, but looking at how impassive Minhyun seemed made you doubt yourself. You’d totally botched the interview, but at least you’d made it that far, you tried to assure yourself as you took your seat, the next person standing to give a quick speech about the report. It was quick and concise—much better than your own presentation. You tried not to sigh as you quickly wiped away a stubborn tear, feeling down and just overall done with the whole thing.

When Minhyun finally let the five of you know that the interview was over and he’d be getting back to you all, you bolted out of there, wanting to run away as fast as possible. The whole thing had been horrible—how cold Minhyun was, how rude the other applicants had been, and how terribly the process had gone. There was no way you’d get the job, and you made sure to let your roommate know this as you collapsed on the couch in your sweats, one hand clutching the remote to the TV, the other supporting a tub of ice cream.

“Sweetie, I don’t think watching TV is going to help you find a different job,” your roommate commented as she watched you stuff a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. You just glared up at her.

“Let me mope in peace,” you groaned, tugging the blanket further over your head.

“Fine, fine,” she sighed, “oh, by the way, your phone’s been ringing.” She tossed your phone to you before retreating to her own bedroom, and you absentmindedly answered in.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“Um,” a nervous, high-pitched female voice tittered, “is this a (y/n)?”

“Yes, that’s me,” you replied with a frown, wondering if maybe this was some scam sales call.

“Hi, yes, this is Molly from Empire, I just wanted to call you to let you know that you’ve been hired as a salesperson for the Empire Sales Division,” she said excitedly, “congratulations.”

“What?” You shrieked, nearly dropping the phone. There was no way—no way in hell—that you’d gotten the job. “Are you serious?”

“Please hold on a moment,” Molly said, before you heard a couple of muffled sounds, “um, (y/n), I have to ask you to please keep your screams to a minimum, a few of the vampires here are not too pleased with the volume of your voice.”

“Oh, right, right,” you nodded, forgetting that she couldn’t see the gesture over the phone, “oh my god, thank you so much! When do I start?”

“Tomorrow is good,” Molly laughed, “I’ll see you then!”

“Yeah,” you nodded breathlessly—you’d be one of the first humans working at a vampire-run corporation ever, and you could barely contain your excitement. “I’ll see you then!”

“Here’s the desk where you’ll be sitting,” Molly said with a smile, gesturing towards your desk. So far, she had been super sweet and kind with the transition, showing you around the office building first before showing you to your seat. To be honest, you were glad that she’d showed you around the building—with the millions of floors and various departments, you were sure you’d have gotten lost immediately.

“Thank you so much,” you said quietly to her, not wanting to disturb the people around you. “I really appreciate this.”

“It’s no trouble,” she assured you with a smile, placing a hand on your shoulder, “it must be hard, you know, being a human and all.”

You glanced around you as you slowly set your things down on the desk that Molly had set aside for you, acutely aware of the lack of humans in the area.

“Well, good luck on your first day of work!” She said with a smile, patting you on the back before heading back to her own desk. You sighed, powering on your work computer and checking to see what assignments you had.

“Hey, newbie,” you heard someone call, and you turned to see someone standing next to you. “Sort through these, upload the data to the drive. I need it in the next hour.” A huge pile of documents were dumped on your desk immediately following that statement. Your eyes widened as you looked down at your desk, grabbing one of the files and flipping through it. Each file was dense with information that needed to be catalogued digitally, and it would take well over an hour to do so. “Well? Can the little human not work fast?” Your coworker taunted, smirking down at you. You clenched your fist, looking back down at the pile of documents in front of you before turning to your computer, ready to start working.

It was Month Three of working at Empire, and your friends were honestly impressed that you’d made it that far. It was hard, tedious work, and all of your coworkers seemed to hate you for the sole reason that you were a human. Even Minhyun, who was now your boss, was cold towards you. If you were in the elevator with him, he wouldn’t say anything. If you were getting coffee from the break room and he came in, he would bolt.

However, despite how much of a cold asshole he was, there was something captivating about Minhyun. You hated how his cold, empty stares directed towards you made something flutter in your stomach.

“(y/n),” one of your coworkers, Minseok, said sharply, “when’s that shipment leaving the warehouse?”

“Shipment 47 is leaving…” you leaned forward, checking the time on your computer screen, “2:45. It was the extra thick bag shipment.”

“No, Shipment 47 was the regular one,” Minseok retorted with a frown, “your records are terrible.”

“Call the warehouse now and ask them,” you shot back, equally pissed off that Minseok had taken the time to ask you a question, only to criticize you. “I’m positive that Shipment 47 was the extra thick bag shipment.”

“Both of you, quit it, we have a meeting in the conference room in five minutes,” Jaehyung, another one of your coworkers (who was cold to you, but not as cold as Minseok) said with a sigh. You shot a glare to Minseok before collecting your things and heading towards the conference room.

Since you’d gotten to Empire, you’d learned to stick up for yourself. Your coworkers were constantly trying to exert power over you and prove you wrong, and so you’d had to develop a thick skin while working there, but you were determined to succeed. So far, every meeting you’d attended had been a total waste of time. It was like a repeat of your interview for the job—if you started talking, someone would talk over you. If you raised your hand to volunteer an idea, you were ignored. There was really no winning.

“Alright, please take a seat,” Dongho, the slightly more amicable counterpart to Minhyun, said with a smile, handing each person a file as they entered the conference room. You didn’t miss the way his nose wrinkled as you passed him. “Now, as you all know, we’re here to discuss the Ivanov sale.”

“The Ivanov Medical Group is looking to settle on a permanent seller of blood bag shells,” Minhyun said coolly from his position at the front of the room, “this is one of our biggest potential sales—Ivanov has access to every hospital in Russia. If we secure this sale, we secure our retirement funds.”

“And that’s saying a lot for us,” Dongho joked, and the other vampires in the room chuckled. You didn’t laugh along.

“Our issue is that they want to finalize a sale by Wednesday,” Minhyun explained. You flipped open the file, examining the issue. “It’s Monday.”

“We have a couple possible solutions outlined in the file we’ve given you,” Dongho explained, “obviously, we need to make this sale, but there are no plane flights that would get us there in time—everything’s booked. “

“Aw man,” Jaehyung joked, “I’ve always wanted to go to Russia.”

You scanned the file, eyebrows raised. There were a few options—somehow get to Russia by land or boat, try and email the Ivanovs. You chuckled a bit—the solution was so glaringly obvious to you.

“Oh I’m sorry, did you have something to say?” Minseok hissed, drawing the attention to you. You stiffened, raising your gaze to meet his levelly.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” you shot back, standing up, “I propose that you make the sale via internet video call. It’s a simple way to connect with possible buyers face-to-face, and maintains the ‘personal contact’ that this company stresses so much.”

“Yes, dear, well,” Dongho smiled at you as though you were a naïve five year old, and it made you want to punch him. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re vampires. We don’t show up on video cameras.”

“Well gosh darnit, aren’t you real lucky that you have your very own human here to make the sale that could, uh,” you paused to add emphasis, “secure our retirement funds, since that’s saying a lot for us.”

You watched with bated breath as Dongho and Minhyun traded glances.

“Fine,” Minhyun bit out, clearly unhappy with his decision, “don’t let it get to your head.”

“How could I let it get to my head,” you grumbled, taking a seat, “I literally haven’t been given any other sale opportunities.” Next to you, Minseok snorted, reminding you once again of how acute vampires’ hearing was. At the front of the conference room, Minhyun was studying your figure.

“Right, and we would be offering this deal at a 5% discount,” you said smoothly with a smile to the camera, the slightly aging bald man on the other side clapping his hands in joy.

“Wonderful!” He exclaimed, “I’m so glad to have found such a good deal. And from a human seller, nonetheless! All these vampires try to sell to me, thinking they know what’s best for my company, when really, I guess you were all that I needed all along.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Ivanov,” you replied with a grin, “I’ll send you the detailed report as soon as I’m finished with it. It was a pleasure to speak with you.”

“Likewise,” Mr. Ivanov, the head of Ivanov Medical Group, beamed jovially before hanging up the video call. You leaned back in your seat, spinning in it to face Dongho and Minhyun, who had been hovering behind you, invisible on camera.

Dongho congratulated you, and Minhyun offered you a small smile. As you powered down the equipment, you couldn’t help but shiver under the piercing gaze that Minhyun had pinned on you, eyes tinting a strange, almost lighter color than his usual dark brown.

You exited the conference room where you’d been set up, only to be greeted by a hearty back slap from Jaehyung.

“I can’t believe you pulled that off,” he crowed, shaking you around, “that was amazing! I had no idea you were such a good salesperson!”

“I guess you did okay,” Minseok grumbled as you took your seat. After all the insults you’d traded with him over the last couple of months, you’d take that.

For the next couple of days, your name was constantly being repeated around the office, earning you something akin to respect from your coworkers from such a successful—and large—sale. Your coworkers were a lot nicer to you and while you were unsure if you appreciated how long it took for them to warm up to you, you were definitely grateful for the lack of judgmental stares.

Dongho and Minhyun also started sending you on actual sales, which was nice. Most of the time, they sent you alone to any human buyers, since the vampire sellers at the company had somewhat of a hard time selling to humans.

“Oh, (y/n)!”

You were heading into the break room, aiming to refill your coffee cup, when Dongho greeted you.

“What time are you heading out today?” He asked, taking a sip of coffee casually.

“I’m sorry?” you asked, forehead wrinkling in confusion.

“Minhyun didn’t tell you?” he sighed, shaking his head, “the two of you have a large sale later today. Human buyer, which is why you’re going. She’s pretty rich, the aristocrat type, which is why Minhyun is going.”

“Oh.” You were surprised that Minhyun would even entertain the idea of going on a sale with you, “I thought Minhyun hated me?”

Dongho barked out a short laugh, shaking his head, “Hate you? No.” His cell phone chirped with a notification and he pulled it out, quickly reading it. “Oh, that’s him, actually. He wanted me to let you know that the car’s downstairs, and to get your things, I guess he’ll brief you in the car.”

“Um, ok,” your eyes widened frantically as a wave of feeling rushed and hurried washed over you. “Thanks, Mr. Kang!” You hurried out to your desk, throwing the things you thought you’d need into your briefcase before rushing down the stairs, forgoing the incredibly slow elevator all together. When you arrived outside of the building, your blood was pumping, your breath heavy and short.

“You’re late,” was the first thing Minhyun remarked as you slid into the car next to him.

“Well, I didn’t exactly get too much notice, did I?” You retorted. You glanced over at him, about to add another snarky comment when you froze, taking in his appearance. “Mr. Hwang? Are you okay?”

Minhyun’s forehead was beaded with sweat, his skin a pale translucent that revealed dark veins, almost like a piece of tissue paper. He looked like he was in pain, as though it took every ounce of strength to just breath.

“I’m fine,” he bit out, closing his eyes. In a movement so fast that it was a blur, he was rolling down the window, trying to get fresh air. You frowned, wondering if you smelled bad or something. Minhyun ran a shaky hand through his hair as you began to connect the dots.

“Mr. Hwang, have you not fed in a while?” You asked tentatively, eyes fixed on Minhyun, whose eyes shot open, meeting yours.

“No, I have not,” he said sharply, “but that is none of your concern.”

“Um, yes, it is,” you snapped, tugging your sleeve up and thrusting your forearm under his nose. Minhyun breathed in sharply, eyes widening. “Listen, Mr. Hwang, if we get to that sale and the buyer smells particularly good, you might lose it. Is that what you want? Imagine the headlines—‘Top Salesman at Empire Goes Wild; Permanently Traumatizes (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’.”

Minhyun sighed deeply, looking over at you, “you’re sure that you’re alright with this?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” you rolled your eyes.

“And you’re okay with it being so… undignified?”

“Jesus, Minhyun, just do it,” you groaned, waving your arm around a bit more, “we don’t have much time.”

“So you are okay with this?” He asked one last time, checking to make sure that you were alright. While slightly overkill, you appreciated how careful he was to definitively get consent from you, even though you weren’t in a technical Blood Partners bond with him.

Minhyun’s stone cold hand gripped your arm, gently bringing it to his lips. For a second, you felt your heartbeat speed up as his breath ghosted over your wrist, but then something else, something more sensual washed over you as his sharp incisors poked through your skin. You gasped in shock at the sensation—you’d been fed on before, once, but it had been a long time ago, and it was definitely a weird sensation that you had yet to get used to.

It felt like only a couple seconds before he was pulling away, grabbing a tissue from the pocket of the car and holding it to the wound, which was already healing itself, thanks to Minhyun’s vampire saliva.

“Feeling better?” You asked, head slightly fuzzy as you watched Minhyun dab the corners of his lips.

“Driver, I need a bottle of water,” Minhyun said through the partition, accepting the bottle of water that the driver held out and handing it quickly to you. You took long, shaky gulps, still unaccustomed to the sensation of having been fed on. As your head cleared, you couldn’t help but notice the silvery color that Minhyun’s irises had adopted. Obviously, you knew about the phenomena of iris change in vampires, but you’d never seen silver before.

“Wow, your eyes are so pretty,” you blurted out, still a little out of it and feeling hazy. Minhyun frowned, looking over at you.

“What color are they?” He asked casually, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

“They’re this really nice silvery-grey,” you replied, filter completely gone.

“Silver?” Minhyun seemed alarmed with that response, back straightening as he pulled out his phone, presumably texting someone.

“Something wrong?” You asked, leaning over to Minhyun’s side of the car. You felt woozy still, almost as though you’d pass out.

“It’s alright,” he said gently, before patting his shoulder, “you can lean on me, we still have about fifteen minutes until we arrive to the place.”

“Don’t we need to,” you began, words slurring together, “review the material?”

Minhyun looked down at you with a tiny smile, “I think you’ll be okay.

“To a successful sale,” Minhyun said with that small smile of his, holding up his wine glass. You did the same, clinking glasses with him before taking a sip.

The sale had been successful, more so than had been initially projected, and Minhyun had invited you to dinner as a celebratory ‘we did it!’ gesture. Never one to pass up free food, especially free good food, you accepted (and it totally had nothing to do with how good Minhyun looked in his suit that day).

“To be honest, I didn’t think you liked me,” you confessed after the waiter had brought out the appetizers.

“Really?” Minhyun raised an eyebrow, “I’m not surprised—my friends have told me that I tend to have a slightly cold persona. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you in any way.”

“I wouldn’t say I was offended,” you mused, twirling your fork in the appetizer’s sauce, “more just confused. Then again, with how everyone else has been treating me, it didn’t really stick out much.”

Minhyun paused, fork halfway to his mouth, “how everyone else has been treating me?”

You immediately backtracked, not wanting to get anyone in trouble, “it’s nothing, really. I think people just had a hard time adjusting to me.”

Minhyun frowned at that, “why didn’t you say anything? That’s not supposed to happen in the workplace.”

“Good evening, can I take your order?”

You looked up, surprised to see another waiter standing there instead of the one who had originally been serving you.

“Oh?” Minhyun had apparently noticed the same, and looked startled, “What happened to our last server?”

The waiter stiffened and looked down at you, sniffing slightly. “He wasn’t comfortable serving a… bloodbag.”

The way he said the derogatory term made your skin crawl as you gaped at him, completely dumbfounded. You’d never come across a situation like that before, and you had no idea what to do.

“(y/n), we’re leaving,” Minhyun commanded, getting up from his seat, “we’re not giving our business to a restaurant that treats guests like this, and I will be reporting you to the Council.”

“Wait, sir,” the waiter tried to backtrack, obviously regretting his words, “sir, please.”

You scrambled to follow Minhyun as he swept out of the restaurant, clearly upset over the whole incident.

“Minhyun, please,” you sighed as the two of you sat in his car side by side, “it’s really not a big deal.”

“Yes it is,” Minhyun frowned, “people shouldn’t be talking to you like that.” You stayed silent as Minhyun punched in the location of a different restaurant, not wanting to break it to him that his own employees had talked to you like that.

After the (second) dinner you had with Minhyun, he was a lot less cold towards you in the office. He’d greet you in the elevator and bring you a cup of coffee occasionally. The small smiles he’d send to you were enough to set your heart aflutter, and you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Minhyun returned your feelings?

Initially you hadn’t thought much of it, but when your best friend had poured over your texts with him, she’d declared that he was at least flirting with you.

One night, you’d had to stay late to sort through a huge file that had come in a few hours earlier. Sitting at your desk, you wanted to pull your hair out in frustration, barely able to keep your eyes open. Finally succumbing, you got up from your seat and headed to the break room, ready to refill your coffee. As you returned to your desk, full mug in hand, you heard a rustling from Minhyun’s office. You jolted in shock, having not been aware that Minhyun was even there that late. You were about to push the door open to greet him when you realized someone else was in there as well—she was sitting on his desk, neck tilted to the side as Minhyun’s fangs dug into her vein, a look of intense pleasure washing over her face as she moaned.

You hurried to your desk, cheeks bright red at the intimate scene you’d just stumbled upon. While your cheeks were bright red, your heart was dull, a sinking feeling in your stomach. The girl and Minhyun had looked to intimate to be just Blood Partners, and the thought of Minhyun in a relationship with someone made you want to vomit. With a sigh, you turned back to your computer and began typing away.

“(y/n)?”

You automatically looked up at the sound of Minhyun calling your name, standing outside of his office with a confused expression. You’d worked for a couple more hours after you’d seen Minhyun with the girl, wanting to finish with the project before you headed home for the night.

“Oh, Minhyun,” you smiled tentatively, still feeling a bit awkward about walking in on Minhyun like that. “You’re still working?”

Minhyun chuckled sheepishly, “I could say the same about you, couldn’t I?” he asked teasingly, coming up behind you to see what you were working on. As he bent over, one hand on the desk, the other on the back of your chair, you became acutely aware of how close he was to you.

“Just finishing up the Hyunsoo files,” you expalained, clicking over to a different tab to show him the report you’d been working on.

“What do you say we both retire for the night?” Minhyun proposed as he leaned away from you, grinning down at you with a boyish grin that made your heart race. “We can go grab some dinner or something.”

You glanced over to Minhyun’s closed office door with a frown. “I dunno, wouldn’t she be a bit… uncomfortable with that?”

“Who?” Minhyun frowned, glancing over in the direction of your gaze.

You frowned even deeper at that—yeah, you might have had feelings for Minhyun, but that didn’t give him a free pass to act like an asshole.

“Look, Minhyun,” you said, looking up at him. Minhyun glanced down at you, surprise written all over his face. “You’ve been flirting with me for a while now, but I have to draw the line here. I wouldn’t have acted on my feelings like that if I had known you had a girlfriend, and the way you’re acting with me is really out of line, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop.”

Minhyun’s eyes widened. “Feelings? Girlfriend?” He gaped down at you, obviously confused. You grew even more upset at that, frustrated that he was denying it. “(y/n), I don’t have a girlfriend!”

“Well then who the hell was that girl in your office?” You retorted, crossing your arms across your chest, “because you seemed real close with her earlier.”

“Wait, were you here about two hours ago?” Minhyun asked, the smallest flicker of a smile crossing his face.

“Obviously,” you shot back, not in the mood for Minhyun’s more playful side.

“(y/n), Dongho and his girlfriend were in here,” he explained with a grin, “so it wasn’t me.”

“So you don’t have a girlfriend?” You asked, cheeks heating up as you realized just exactly what you’d said in the heat of the moment.

“No, I don’t,” Minhyun smirked down at you, leaning forward a bit so that his face was dangerously close to yours, “but I think I’ve learned enough tonight to be able to do this.” In one swift motion, Minhyun’s soft, cold lips were on yours, an interesting contrast to the feeling of his lips on your wrist. You leaned into the kiss, reaching up to lace your fingers behind his head as the kiss grew deeper, Minhyun gently tracing your bottom lip with his tongue.

When the two of you finally parted, breathless and smiling, Minhyun reached up to gently smooth down your hair, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that for.”

i’M SO SORRY THAT I HAVENT UPDATED IN A WHILE IVE BEEN SO BUSY WITH SCHOOL AND I’M HAVING A FEW PERSONAL ISSUES THAT HAVE LEFT ME A BIT EMOTIONALLY DRAINED BUT I HAVE A THREE DAY WEEKEND AHEAD OF ME SO HOPEFULLY I CAN GET A LOT WRITTEN

also brief allusion to moonstone bc minhyun’s eyes go grey when he drinks the blood n that means that they’re soulmates but i didn’t add that in bc idk i just decided not to but i wanted to make sure that y’all knew that was what that was

#produce 101 #produce 101 imagine #produce 101 scenario #produce 101 oneshot #produce 101 fanfiction #nu'est #nu'est imagine #nu'est imagine scenario #nu'est oneshot #nu'est fanfiction #wanna one #wanna one imagine #wanna one scenario #wanna one fanfiction #hwang minhyun #hwang minhyun scenario #hwang minhyun oneshot #hwang minhyun imagine #hwang minhyun fanfiction

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fire-bear · 8 years ago

Note

Number 1 with UsUk?

I just want to apologise in advance. For some reason, I didn’t notice the ‘company’ part of the prompt until I was about to start writing this and then suffered some sort of mental block? I honestly think this thing is kinda... horrible but I hope it’s okay?

I’d have liked to have set it in high school... Maybe I’ll write you a version of that next year. ^.^

KeepYour Enemies Close

Arthur hated calling the IT Department.

Their publishing company was small and so there wereonly two IT guys. They did their jobs well and, by all accounts,Arthur should get on well with them, particularly since, due tobudget restraints, he had an older model of computer. It was slow andoften developed bugs of some sort. Gilbert would turn up quickly fora good gossip, cup of tea, biscuits and to actually fix the computer.

It was Alfred which made Arthur hate picking up thephone to call down for some help.

Alfred had been a part of the company before Arthur hadbeen recruited. As a prank for the new guy, something to 'welcome'them, Alfred had thought it would be funny to programme his computerto shut down within half an hour of him working. With unsavedprogress and half-written e-mails, Arthur had been panicked, sure hewas going to be fired. When Alfred had appeared to help him andlaughed at his consternation, Arthur had been furious. Theirresulting argument had gone down in history – along with everyensuing one.

Thankfully, that was the only ugly mark on Arthur'sfledgling career as a publisher.

At least, it was the only thing he disliked untilseveral months later when Christmas arrived and he found out aboutone of the peculiar traditions of the company he had joined. It wasone of the few times he wondered whether quitting would retain hissanity...

"Right, everyone," said ElizavetaHérd��váry, hands on her hips. The publishers and assistants andcleaners and that damned IT department stopped their murmurs andturned their attention to their boss. Arthur pointedly ignored Alfredas much as he could despite sensing his stares and mockingsniggering. "Alfred!" Elizaveta cried, finally getting himto shut up. "Do I need to gag you?"

"Oh, that would be interesting," Francispiped up.

Arthur slid his gaze towards him, frowning. "Ican't quite tell what you mean by that," he muttered to hiscolleague. Francis only smirked back at him.

"Now that you're all quite finished..."Elizaveta said, voice strained as she spoke through gritted teeth.

"Sorry, Liz," echoed around the room as thechatter finally stopped.

"Right," she said again. "As you allknow Christmas is coming up. And I knowyou're all working hard so we can release some of our amazingromances on the world. So, as we do every year, we're going toorganise a Christmas party."

Murmurs broke out. Feliciano seemed rather excited,chattering into Ludwig's ear. Mei was grinning at Kiku and tugging athis arm in an attempt to get him as riled up as she was. Francis wasalready musing upon what sort of food he should make for the event.And, over it all, Alfred's harsh, annoying voice rolled overeverything, though Arthur couldn't make out his words.

Arthur himself wasn't particularly bothered by it.Christmas had never been an especially good time of the year for himand the last time he'd felt perfectly content and filled withChristmas cheer had been when he still believed in Santa Claus. Allthe magic had gone from the affair and, in its absence, cynicism hadsettled. He'd efficiently bought all his Christmas presents alreadyand had nothing to do: he was absolutely fed up with the holidayalready and they were only in November.

It looked as though he was going to have to summon someenthusiasm, though. A party would be fun, if he ignored the'Christmas' part.

Elizaveta waited till the noise had died down beforespeaking again. "Since it's a large undertaking, I'm going topick two names from a hat in order to decide which two people aregoing to be organising it for us. No protests or arguments," sheadded with a stern finger. She picked up her pink, woollen hat, theone with the large flower pinned to it, which Arthur had seen herbring in and wondered about. "So, the first person to be doingthis is..." Deftly, she plucked out a folded piece of paper.Using finger and thumb, she slid the paper open and raised aneyebrow. "Alfred."

"Oh, all right!" Alfred yelled from the backof the room. "This is gonna be the biggest, bestest, mostawesomest Christmas party in the history of Christmas parties!"

"I doubt that," Arthur muttered to Francis.His friend – to use the term loosely – rolled his eyes at hisantagonism and sighed.

"Really, darling, you need to get over thisstrange hatred you have of him," he said. "It's not goodfor you."

"And," said Elizaveta over the top of themall, brow furrowed as she glared at those who were speaking, "thenext person is..." She pulled another name from the hat, set thehat down, unfolded it – and smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. Arthurfelt a shiver go down his spine and felt sorry for whoever was aboutto be landed the job- "Ah, that person is Arthur."

Everyone went silent. Not a word was said. Breaths wereheld. Nobody moved. Arthur stared at Elizaveta. Then, heart hammeringin his chest, he whipped his head around to stare, wide-eyed, at anequally shocked Alfred. They stayed like that for a few secondsbefore Alfred's expression began to change, his face falling, browfurrowing. Arthur looked back to Elizaveta and gave her a pleadinglook.

"Liz..."

"Nope!" she said, cheerfully. "You twoare doing this. Maybe, this way, you can stop your silly feud. Now,I've not got much else to discuss for this meeting. Just a littlenote about..."

Arthur tuned her out, his heart sinking as he wonderedhow on Earth he was going to be able to organise something for hiscolleagues when he had to work with his worst enemy. Turning his headslightly, he caught Alfred glaring at him. He glared right back andknew, deep in his core, that the next few weeks were going to beawful.

After the meeting, with Alfred distracted by hisfellow IT guy, Arthur managed to scurry away back to his office. Oncethere and the door was closed behind him, he relaxed significantly.He liked it in here, with the various manuscripts and first editionsof books he'd help publish or ones he just liked having on hand orprevious ones in a series so he could reference them. His desk wassurrounded by filing cabinets that he kept meticulously organised aswell as the files on his computer, one which had the largest memoryof any computer he had ever worked on, despite its slow processing.Apart from the monitor and the keyboard on the little drawer beneathit, his desk consisted of a lot of pens, a tray for organising hispost and several piles of documents. At the moment, since Elizavetahad interrupted his morning work for her meeting, it was in a stateof organised chaos.

Settling in his rolling chair, he sighed and let hisshoulders droop, tugging at his shirt collar. He felt a little onedge from the added workload from the party, despite not havingstarted doing anything yet. However, he hoped that he could calmhimself down by doing the sort of work he actually enjoyed. Planningfor the party could begin after work and, he decided, it would bebest if he came up with ideas and handed them over to Alfred for himto deal with instead of having actual, physical meetings.

Drawing a manuscript towards him, Arthur had barelyremembered where he had gotten up to when the door burst open withouta knock. He didn't need to look up to know who it was and gloweredacross the room at Alfred who was scowling back at him. "What doyou want?" Arthur demanded.

"We're meant to be working together," Alfredtold him, sternly.

"Only for the party," Arthur corrected him."I'm on the clock – and so are you. Go back to your littleroom in the basement and whatever you do down there all day."

Alfred's scowl deepened. "You know fine well we'renot in the basement-"

"I don't care. Get out of my office."

Sighing, Alfred tried again. "We need to make alist of things we need to do for this party. So I'm not leaving tillwe do this." He stalked into the room and let himself drop intothe comfortable armchair that Arthur had personally brought in forauthors and other important visitors to feel relaxed in duringmeetings.

"And I refuse to talk about the Christmas partyuntil I've at least finished work today."

With that being said,he returned his attention to the manuscript, his red pen in hand ashe circled a few paragraphs about something he felt was inane to theplot. He tried not to be too conscious of Alfred's presence in theroom but he couldn't help wondering if he was going to do somethingstupid like mess up his desk to get Arthur's attention. Nervously, heshuffled his papers around a little, trying to remember what he wastrying to work on. Glancing at his computer, he realised that hehadn't booted it up since he came back from the meeting and wouldneed to in order to check his e-mails. Just as he was about to reachout to turn it on, Alfred suddenly stood, making Arthur jolt insurprise.

"Fine," said Alfred, shortly. "I'll waitfor you after work." And he strode from the room, leaving thedoor wide open.

Arthur sighed and prayed for patience.

Whoever was watching over him didn't give himany.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Arthur's temperflared frequently enough that he couldn't remember the last time hehadn't been irritated and had been content. Their first meeting tookplace in a McDonald's since Arthur couldn't shake Alfred and theother man wanted food. Arthur had never had an argument in aMcDonald's but, when they couldn't agree on a venue, Arthur had tostorm out in lieu of being thrown out.

Whenever they discussed it, they argued about everysingle detail. The venue (Alfred wanted to have it in the officewhile Arthur thought they should take it out of the workplace); themusic (Alfred wanted loud pop music while Arthur thought it would bebetter to have gentle ballads); the decorations (Arthur thought theyshould be minimalist with white being the predominant colour whileAlfred was adamant there should be more colour); the food and drink(Alfred wanted to have a huge spread while Arthur thought thereshouldn't be too much in order to keep waste down); the possibilityof gifts (Alfred wanted to do Secret Santa but Arthur had pointed outhow long it was taking them to organise the party, let alone a SecretSanta as well); the games (which Arthur didn't want to have). Everysingle time they had a difference of opinion, there was a loudargument with shouting and slamming doors. Most of their discussionshappened in the office and their colleagues were equal parts amusedand exasperated.

The day of the party drew nearer (another thingdisagreed on) and their arguments grew worse. That was because Arthurwas getting more and more fed up with the holiday. With every fight,he felt his chest hurting. Alfred's disdain and hatred was clear andhe couldn't figure out why it had only seemed to become worse. Hebegan to dread going to the office and dread talking to anyone. Hiswork began to fall behind, his efficiency dropping as he fumed orworried or fought.

Struggling, Arthur watched the calendar, counting downthe days until he'd be free...

Finally, it was upon them.

After compromising a lot, they had decided to have itin their biggest conference room. Since Alfred had insisted on aChristmas tree and other decorations, they were set to decoratestraight after work the day before the party. Arthur really justwanted to get home as soon as possible so he made sure everythingthey needed was in the conference room by four o'clock. He alsomanaged to convince Francis, Antonio and Gilbert to help him shiftthe tables out so they'd have room to work.

So, when five o'clock hit, Arthur made sure to clockout, say goodnight to all his colleagues with a weary smile andreturned to the room. Alfred was waiting for him and he sighed uponseeing Alfred's cheerful expression. It looked a little strained atthe edges.

"Huh," said Alfred. "I washalf-expecting you to bail on me."

"Why would I do that?" Arthur said, movingover to the huge box of multi-coloured baubles and streamers and Godonly knew what else. "This is my responsibility as well. I'm notgoing to duck out of it."

"Sure," Alfred muttered, sounding peeved.

"Let's just get this over with. I'll decorate thewindow and you decorate over there." Arthur gestured towards thedoor.

There was no answer but, when Arthur glanced over hisshoulder, he saw that the bespectacled blond was working on opening along box. Thankful that they wouldn't be continuing any sort ofconversation, Arthur began to unravel the tinsel and set aside thebaubles ready for the tree. They were huge monstrosities,multi-coloured, all red and green and silver and gold and white andpink, for some reason. There were also huge decals to go on the floorto ceiling windows, all of them in colour, including Santa and anativity scene. Arthur frowned at the fact that there wouldn't be anysnowflakes to stick up, except for the paper ones which would hangfrom the ceiling and make it impossible to move around the room.

He got to work, deciding to put the decals on thewindows first. They were pretty simple so he was finished with themquickly. Passing by Alfred who was struggling to get the bottom partof the fake tree connected with the rest of it, Arthur went into thehall where a step-ladder had been left for their use. Arthurwordlessly set it up in one corner and climbed up, a large, papersnowflake in one hand. He pinned it to the ceiling before climbingback down. Three of them were hanging up before he noticed just whereAlfred had placed the tree.

"What's that doing there?"Arthur demanded, gesturing at it.

"Huh?" said Alfred, looking up from where hewas hanging the baubles on the little fake branches.

"The tree. You've put it in front the window. Howare people supposed to see that ridiculous snowman you made me putup?"

"It's not ridiculous," Alfred protested,glaring at Arthur as he descended from on high. "And I wantpeople to see it as they come in."

Arthur looked around the room. The floor to ceilingwindows took up nearly the entire wall on one side of the room.Opposite it, the door was in one corner and the tree at the far endof the room. Glancing at the free corner pointedly, Arthur said, "Youdon't think they'd see it there?"

"But there's not enough impact,"Alfred insisted. "It has to be here."

"Then what was the point in the snowman?!"Arthur exclaimed, completely done with Alfred's strange determinationon what they should have at the party. All of their decisions hadcome down to the flip of a coin and Arthur had only won on the SecretSanta and games suggestions. Everything else had to be exactly asAlfred envisioned or it would 'ruin Christmas'.

"Y'know, for added Christmas cheer!"

"No!" snapped Arthur. "Move the tree!"

Alfred frowned. "No; it's perfect here."

"Don't be so stupid! Everyone will be able to seeit in that other corner," Arthur said, pointing at it.

"Why're you trying to ruin my fun?" Alfreddemanded.

"I'm not. I just think it would be best to makesure everyone will enjoy it instead of just you."

"You're just being a Scrooge! A mean, uptight,horrid... person!" declared Alfred once he'd clearly run out ofadjectives to use against him.

"Oh, look at the pot calling the kettle black!"Arthur snapped, batting aside one of the giant snowflakes that wasgetting on his nerves.

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"You did that horrifying prank on me on my firstday! How did you not think that was mean?"

"It was just a joke," Alfred tried to defendhimself, though he looked uncomfortable.

"You laughed in my face!" Arthur yelled, hishands now curled into fists. "And you never bothered toapologise! I don't know what you were thinking, but you quite clearlydon't want me here."

"What? No. I-"

"Don't deny it!" Arthur interrupted him,unable to stop the words tumbling from his lips. "You hate me!It's quite obvious!"

"I don't hate you!" Alfred exclaimed,eyes wide behind his glasses. "I-"

"You definitely don't like me."

"It's not as if you made yourself likeable,"Alfred said, hands raised as if to defend himself or placate Arthur.

"Well, I'm sorry that this is a job I've workedhard for. I'm sorry I desperately want to keep this job. I'm sorrythat I don't want to be fired and I'm bloody terrified that I'll dosomething to make that happen. And you walk in, with your stupid grinand your inane comments and- and- and you made me believe I couldlose this – everything – all of this- because of-" Arthurhad to stop, panting a little, to take a deep breath and get histhoughts in order.

"That's..." Alfred tried to say but Arthurcut him off.

"I love this job," he told Alfred, angerstill thrumming through him and prompting him to speak. "But Idread coming in here because of you."

Alfred seemed to freeze at that, his eyes gettingimpossibly wider. "I..."

"You don't need to make an excuse," Arthursnarled, worked up now. He could feel the pressure in his head as hefought against the tears. "I don't want to hear it!"Turning away from Alfred, he stalked away. Noting the sheer amount ofdecorations they still had to put up, Arthur slumped. There was noway he could continue working after blowing up at Alfred. He turnedback to him but, before he could say anything, he found Alfred weaklysmiling at him.

"Okay," he said. "Look. It's Christmas.You need to just relax a bit, all right? Then, in the New Year-"

"'Relax'?" said Arthur, incredulously."'Relax'?! Don't tell me to 'relax'! Do you think this is somesort of joke!"

"No! No, no, I don't, I-"

"I've had enough!" Arthur glanced up at thesnowflake he had batted at before and whacked it as hard as he could.It ripped with a horrible tearing noise, flopping on its string. Partof it fell down in pieces so that it looked as though it was actuallysnowing.

"Hey!" cried Alfred, looking at the ruineddecoration in dismay.

"Put the rest up by yourself," Arthur toldhim as he turned away from him. "I'm going home."

"What?! Arti- Arthur, c'mon. You can't – if youdon't help me, the party'll be ruined!"

"Well, just you wait till next year and I won't be'ruining' your party."

"What?!" Alfred yelped. "What, Arthur,wait! What did that mean?" Arthur paused in the doorwayand sent him a look meant to convey the implications: he imagined helooked equal parts angry, exhausted and upset. Alfred's mouth droppedopen. "No, wait, Arthur, don't-!" But Arthur turned hishead away, shook it hurriedly and rushed off before his emotions gotthe better of him.

Arthur didn't sleep that night.

At first, his anger had fuelled him through a few hoursof housework before he retired to bed. There, he'd fumed – until itfaded. It was swiftly replaced by shame and guilt and regret. He'dleft Alfred to decorate on his own. No doubt, he wouldn't be finishedby the next night. Everyone would be disappointed that their partywas a failure. Maybe they wouldn't bother next year.

The worse part, of course, had been his rant to Alfred.It wasn't his fault that Arthur had been far too stressed. Heshouldn't have shouted at him. And he definitely shouldn't haverevealed so much to the man. His worst enemy. The only person hedidn't want to know his personal thoughts and feelings.

It made him shudder.

But, the worst guilt he felt was that Elizaveta's treatto her employees had gone up in smoke. There was no way that he couldsee for them to salvage the party. However, Arthur had a thought justbefore he dropped off to sleep. There was one thing none of them weregoing to get at the party, that none of them would expect and thatmight make it up to them.

Which was why he threw his clothes on early the nextmorning, stepped into his shoes, grabbed his coat and wallet andventured out into the horror of the high street during the Christmasrush. There were a lot of people to buy for and he had to make sureall of the gifts were perfect. Especially Alfred's – it would needto stand in as Christmas present and apology.

***Later that day, around the time people would bebeginning to reach the office for the supposed party, Arthurreturned. He was absolutely exhausted from going to and from everysort of shop imaginable. His wallet was considerably lighter and hehoped he'd be able to survive until he was paid again. Then he'd hadto rush home so he could wrap everything in boxes with plain redpaper and golden ribbons. Finally finished, he'd rushed to theoffices and quietly made his way in, careful not to be noticed as heswiped his way through the floor's secure locks.

Playing at Santa – of a sort – Arthur slipped intoeach office, leaving the appropriate present to be found wheneverthey next arrived there. For Elizaveta, who kept her office lockedwith an actual key, he pinned it to the door, close enough to hername plaque that the tiny hole would hopefully not be noticeableafterwards. Mission complete, he heaved a sigh and let the tensionseep out of him, slumping a little as he made his way back to thedoor, intent on leaving. A noise from the makeshift party roomstopped him. Was Alfred in there, still trying to get it all readyfor everyone?

Cautious, eyes darting to and fro in the hope that hewouldn't be seen, Arthur sidled up to the door. He placed his hand onthe doorknob. With a deep breath, he turned the handle and slowlypushed it open, peering through it. He froze at what he saw,confused.

When he had left the night before, the majority of thedecorations had been bright and cheerful. The tree had been large andrather imposing. Wrecked, gigantic paper monstrosities hung in onecorner of the room. Boxes had covered the floor.

Now, the floor was mostly clear. A table had beenpushed against the far wall, laden with food and a punch bowl.Beneath it, hundreds of various bottles were nestled – Arthur evenspied several packets of paper cups. The windows had been stripped ofthe giant stickers that Arthur had painstakingly and smoothly put on.Instead, the windows seemed to be dusted by light snow or frost,icicles hanging down from above. Icicles also hung from the ceiling,lit up and slowly pulsing a pretty glow. A thinner, smaller tree,sprayed with snow and covered in muted coloured baubles stood in thecorner Arthur had told Alfred to put his only 24 hours before.Standing proud atop it was a golden fairy, silver wand held high.Seats were pushed against what space was left, covered in sheets andfoil and wire to make them appear as if they had been roughly carvedout of snow. Gentle, slow music flowed from a music player somewhere.Silver tinsel was draped anywhere it could be without being in theway.

And it was full of people. Francis and Elizaveta andGilbert and... Everyone. They were all there, chatting away. No-onehad drinks. Ludwig had a rectangular box under one arm. Leaningagainst his back, Feliciano had his tongue stuck out as hepainstakingly wrote out a card. Searching around the room, Arthurquickly spotted Alfred as well. He was working with Kiku, wrestlingwith a chair and a sheet.

"Urgh, Keeks, why won't this one work?" hesaid, voice carrying across the room.

"You are rushing," Kiku answered politely.

"He'll be here soon!"

"If he even-" Francis began but he glanced atthe door as he spoke and his eyes widened. "Arthur!" hecried and Alfred immediately dropped the chair onto Kiku's foot.

"Artie!" he exclaimed, spinning around.

"'Artie'?" Arthur questioned, quite unable towrap his head around what he was seeing.

"Uh. Yeah, um. You made it! Merry Christmas!"The others echoed the sentiment.

"What... What is all this?" Arthurasked, stepping into the room and noticing the concertinaed papersnowmen curving across the wall. "I thought you wanted brightcolours and... 'happiness' or whatever it was you said."

"Uh," Alfred said again, eyes drawn to thefloor. "I... I'm sorry."

"What?" said Arthur flatly, unable to quiteunderstand what was happening.

"I've been a real jerk," Alfred admittedbefore sheepishly looking up at Arthur, hand rubbing at the back ofhis head. "I'm sorry. What I did on your first day... It wasreally stupid but... I'd only wanted to make you laugh. I didn'tthink about what it would mean to you. And laughing at you. And...everything else." He stopped to take a deep breath. Then helooked up at Arthur, closing the gap between them so he could lookArthur in the eye. "I shouldn't have..." Alfred faltered."Er, what's the word. Made you feel left out?"

"Alienated," Francis informed him.

"That's it! I shouldn't have alienated you."

"None of us should've," Gilbert piped up."Al's like one of the family and... I dunno, I suppose we justnaturally took his side in a lot of stuff."

"So this is to, like, make up for that!"Alfred declared, spreading his arms wide to show off the room. "If,y'know, it can."

"This is for you," Ludwig said, stepping upbeside them. "From all of us."

"And this, too!" Feliciano exclaimed, handingover the card he'd hastily stuffed into the envelope.

Arthur looked at all of them, perplexed. Had theyreally banded together to sort out the party and welcome himproperly? What could they possibly have gotten him? Hesitant, hereached out to take the items. He opened the box first, his curiositygetting the better of him. Inside, a wide strip of metal rested. Hepulled it out – and gasped.

A. Kirkland

Publisher

"We got it engraved today," Alfred explained."It cost a lot to get it done 'cause of short notice and howbusy they were so I hadta get everyone else to pitch in and then wordgot around and... this happened." He swept his hand around theroom.

Stunned, Arthur shook his head. "You... You didn'tneed to. I mean... I've been horrible, too. I'm so sorry Alfred. Ishouldn't have-"

"Nah, it's fine. Not your fault," said Alfreddismissively, smiling at Arthur. It was a rather soft, fond smile,Arthur thought, and it was a little disconcerting that Alfred hadthat expression for him. He ducked his head, smiling himself.His heart felt warmer, happy tears blurring his vision.

"I just... thank you," Arthur said. Heclutched the present to his chest and wondered if he should tell themall about their presents. Then he decided it could be a surprise forthem. Nobody needed to know what he'd done.

"Yeah." Alfred put a friendly hand onArthur's shoulder which made him rather embarrassed, unused to thissort of attention. "Merry Christmas, Artie. And welcome to EroCup Publishing."

I was honestly gonna have them under mistletoe at the end there and have to kiss (but a chaste one) but I thought that was a bit much...

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pbjpuppy · 5 years ago

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Walks

A short horror story I liked enough to share!

I’ve been going on a lot of walks recently.

I live with two other people, my dog, my cat, and my two pet rats. That makes seven living things and three living humans. The house is quiet a lot of the time. My brother and I are both teenagers- I’m seventeen, he’s nineteen- and we spend a lot of time in our rooms. My dad is usually working, or out of the house. He likes to go over to his girlfriend's house a lot, or out to the city for the weekend before… Everything happened, and I’ll take care of myself for the evening and the following day or so. Sometimes it’s longer than that. I don’t hear from my brother those days, he makes his own food. Sometimes I’ll be home alone and won’t even realize until I walk past his bedroom and see it’s been empty this whole time.

My dad has been away a lot this week. I want to tell him about the bugs I caught in Animal Crossing. I don't know if I’ve seen him in a while. I thought I said goodbye to him yesterday. Yesterday it was snowing, when I said goodbye. It wasn’t snowing yesterday. I wish he’d get back from whatever he’s doing. I hope he brings me back something from the grocery store.

This wouldn't be happening if everything hadn’t happened. If we were in school, I’d be able to raise my hand and ask the teacher in person about my math question. And there would be other students, too. But we have to stay home. Everyone has to stay home.

I think I need to go on more walks.

#monstrous writing #horror #writing #short story #horror story #UH HOW DO I TAG. WRITING.#IM V PROUD OF THIS!! give it a read if youd like!! i hope the readmore works #ask to tag!!

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brittysaucefanfic · 7 years ago

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A Fate Unclaimed

Part 17

(First)(Previous)(Next)(AU 1)(AU 2)(AO3)

Lance lands face first on concrete, but it wasn't a hard fall, so he would have been fine. But then something lands on top of him and breaks his entire body, or at least that's what it feels like to him. He groans, and tries to push the weight off, but fails because it's too heavy.

Then the weight groans.

So, apparently, he was being smushed by a person. Said person shifts, digging their elbow into his spinal cord. Lance winces and turns his face to look at the person crushing him face first on concrete. Lance wants to scream when he sees a familiar mullet.

Apparently he was being smushed by Keith.

"Great, no wonder you were so heavy, one of your lookie loo pals tagged along." A voice says, and Lance looks up to see Macaria glaring down at him. Keith finally manages to get off him, and then puts his fists up. But he's shaky, like he's going to throw up. Lance hauls himself up with a hiss, knowing he's probably going to have a bruise where Keith elbowed him.

"What the hell?" Lance says, which, yes, probably isn't the best thing to say right off the bat when someone zaps you with a bunch of shadows. Way to try to piss off the scary demigod lady Lance. Macaria, however, just sighs at him. Which, weird, but at least it isn't being zapped again. His stomach rolls as he makes it to his feet at last.

"Where are we?" Keith continues, edging in front of Lance. "Where's our friends? What do you want with Lance?"

Lance lets Keith do his thing while he gathers his bearings. They're in some sort of concrete alleyway, just far enough in that he can barely hear cars, and he can't immediately find the exit. It's a clean alley though, or cleaner than one would expect. A little ways to the right, behind Macaria, is a metal door with the symbol of Hermes painted in gold.

For some reason Lance really wants in that door.

This, however, is a much weaker pull, so he can ignore it like it's nothing but an annoying bug. Lance turns back to Macaria, noticing his entire body was hidden behind Keith's in his distraction. And wow, muscles.

"We are just down the street from your friends, who are still in front of the door to Hell, and all I want to do is talk. Now move so I can do just that." She says, her tone bordering between exasperated and annoyed. Lance bites his lip, thinking about what he should do. He comes to a conclusion the moment he and Macaria lock eyes again.

Lance shoves Keith lightly out of the way.

"The glow." Lance says, his voice staying even for once. "I want to know what it is. But I want to have all of my friends here, just in case." Just in case you're a psycho.

Macaria thinks for a moment, giving Keith time to glare at Lance as he saves himself from hitting concrete. Lance ignores him, watching Macaria's face fall into resignation.

"Fine." She says, then snaps her fingers. All of a sudden there's three loud thumps behind them. He turns around and winces at what he sees. Poor Pidge ate concrete first.

"Help," Pidge wheezes out, reaching forward. "Me."

Lance isn't sure if he should feel sorry or feel amused. Both maybe. Keith rushes to Shiro, who drew the big straw and landed on top of the demigod dog pile. When Shiro and Hunk are off of Pidge she lays there groaning for a moment. Neither of the two who squished her look all that apologetic.

"You coming child?" Macaria says, her voice further away. When Lance turns around he sees her at the door he wanted to enter. The one with the symbol of Hermes. Could Hermes be his father? Maybe that's why he feels compelled. But then again, he's also compelled to Shiro, Allura and Macaria.

This is getting confusing.

Macaria opens the door a little, just enough for rock music to fill the allyway. When she raises an eyebrow at him beneath her sunglasses he's suddenly moving, no longer fighting the pull he has.

"Lance, wait-" Shiro calls out behind him. But it's too late, he's already walking through the doorway. He isn't sure what he's expecting to see once he passes the barrier, because there is one. The same type like the one at camp, but not quite as powerful. He isn't sure if he was expecting a club, or a trap house, or a door to Hell.

The lights inside are dim, easy on the eyes, but it isn't dark. The walls are smooth stone, with etched symbols like the ones he remembers seeing one of the Hecate cabin residents drawing in the sand. The walls encase a very large room, larger than what seems possible. On the edges of the room are simple wooden tables like one would see in an old timey tavern, except weirder.

Tables for two, tables for large groups, very tall tables with large chairs, small tables like it would be for a kid. The middle of the large room was open floor, with a white painted square on the stone. A dance floor maybe? At the very back of the room is a bar of smooth polished granite, and tv's hung on the wall above the shelves of liqueur and liquids. Hidden in the far left corner is a staircase with a body guard.

The tavern/bar/club isn't full, but it's crowded.

Most of them seem to be demigods. Or maybe just powerful beings, because everytime he looks at a person his vision flashes with gold. Some of it is muted, like usual, some of it are as blinding as Macaria's, and some of it are less gold and more of different colors. Red, white, black, pink. It's kind of dizzying.

"Follow me child." Macaria says and Lance faces her with a scowl.

"I have a name you know." He says, but he almost can't hear himself over the noise of the tavern/bar/club type place he's in.

"One which I have not been formally introduced, so I may call you child until you give me your name properly." She says, her voice floating over the crowd as she walks away. Lance is reminded of his grandmother's fairytales when he was young. Of the Fae, and the mind games they play to get what they want. Of how you always had to say things a certain way, like how you will not give them your name, but you can tell them.

Does that apply in this situation?

He spent so much time pondering, he almost misses Macaria slipping past the body guard at the stairs. He doesn't miss the flirty smile they share though, which is interesting.

"Lance!" Shiro says behind him. He turns to him, and gives him a patented 'Guilty Lance Smile'. Almost always gets him out of trouble. Or it does with Coran at least.

Shiro doesn't look mad though, only Keith really has that look, but his face has been twisted like that since they were five. They're all grouped just inside the door like a pack of terrified puppies. Lance looks back at the staircase, seeing the bodyguard staring at him. It seems like he's expecting Lance to follow Macaria, which yeah he's definitely doing.

Lance doesn't wait for his friends to follow before he marches up to the bodyguard.

The bodyguard looks inhumanly handsome up close, but in that burly biker dude sort of way. Sharp golden eyes, like one of Macaria's. The golden eyed man steps aside without even trying to stop Lance. There's footsteps behind him when he starts climbing the stairs, and Lance glances down to see his friends. Shiro looks like he's saying something, but the words fall on deaf ears.

Lance can't understand a word he's saying.

Perhaps that should have alarmed him, the fact that his friends were speaking in muted gibberish. But it doesn't. He just continues taking the stairs by two. At the top of the stairs is a hallway, a long one that curves at the end of Lance's line of sight. And all along the hallway walls are doors of every nature.

Some doors are tall enough to fit a bulldozer. Others barely big enough to fit a child. Some doors are wooden, some metal. Some look like they could collapse with a single touch, others aren't even doors at all. Those would include turnstiles, old western swing doors you see in the movies, a stack of streamers that shift with his footsteps.

Lance feels like he just walked into a weird version of Alice in Wonderland.

He isn't sure where he's going, or which door he should enter, so he just keeps walking. He doesn't stop until he hears Macaria whistle at him. Lance turns back to his friends, who are way too far behind him. They rush to him once he stops, and Keith starts mumbling that muted gibberish. He feels like he should know what Keith is trying to say but he doesn't. This is almost like when his family would speak Spanish around him just after the adoption.

His attention is pulled away once again by Macaria's sharp whistle.

Lance walks into a room, through a normal looking door and into an office like area. Macaria sits at a round table, the only furniture in the room other than the chairs. It makes him curious to where she got the cup of coffee. She's relaxed, twisting one of those golden locks around her finger.

Her sunglasses are pushed on top of her head, pushing back her hair to show a tattoo on the side of her neck. It looks like an oraborous, an intricate one that connects to another tattoo beneath her collar.

Lance takes a seat directly across from Macaria.

His friends are slow to enter the room, let alone sit down. And Shiro looks worried. Weird, that's Hunk's job. Lance's attention refocuses on Macaria at the sound of her cup being set down.

"No worries, we can talk in private now. Your friends can't understand a word we're saying." Macaria says. The end of her sentence curls, like it's just barely peeking into another language, except she didn't say anything in a different language. He just has the feeling like she did. Lance drags his eyes over to Shiro, who's muttering in gibberish again.

Shiro looks tense, his eyes begging Lance to listen to him. His mouth is moving again, and Lance vaguely recognizes the English word 'leave' forming on Shiro's lips. If he strained real hard, he could probably hear it too. Lance is caught in the realization of just how powerful Macaria is all over again.

Who is this woman?

******

This is done on my phone, and I can't sit at my computer to fix the links yet, so just bare with me!

Edit: Links are fixed!

******

(First)(Previous)(Next)(AU 1)(AU 2)(AO3)

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