#louis is right you know? the collectivity of it all is literally the best thing ever

[lhrry]

concerts are my favourite place to be

[targaryenluvs]

— BEST LIFE

pairings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (past), harvey specter x fem!juniorpartner!reader (present)

summary: you’d once been apart of the bau team, but after a situation and a falling out with your boyfriend you moved on. what happens when the bau needs your help on a case, which your boyfriend harvey is also assisting on?

warnings: angsty, asshole harvey cause duh, jealousy (spencer) kisses, cute harvey

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: this literally sprouted in my mind and i just needed to write it lmao, if you haven’t watched suits or criminal minds go right now‼️ they’re both my husbands 😋

when jessica had called you into her office, you’d been calm. apparently one of your cases, which had you and harvey working together, was now of fbi interest. your client was currently suing a company for faulty wiring in his home, which caused it to burn down. and it was apparently not the case at all, the home was suspected to be tied into a serial arsonist.

what you didn’t expect was for your client to be accused of being the arsonist.

“you’re sitting here,”

“uh-huh.”

“telling me,”

“yup.”

“that i’m supposed to believe that richard jeena, the fifty three year old little man, is a serial arsonist?”

you shut the file infront of you, meeting harvey’s eye, “sweetheart?” he uncrossed his legs, leaning forwards with a sweet smile, “yes?” you leaned forwards as well, “that, is exactly what i’m telling you.” harvey leaned back into his chair, disbelief riddling his face.

“and the fbi is flying here?” you nodded along, “fbi agents?” you nodded again, “probably field agents or whatever they’re called. they’ll sit in on the trial, survey the scenes, collect evidence and all.” the familiar clicking of donna’s heels brought a smile to your face, “profilers.”

your heart dropped with one word, “what’d you say?” donna made her way to the two of you, plopping herself down in the chair next to you, “it’s those fbi profilers. yknow, they look at the room and can tell you if he’s left or right handed, blonde, mommy issues and all. nice little packaged criminal profile in seconds.” you couldn’t help correcting her, having dealt with your fair share of assumptions in your years as a profiler.

“that’s not how it works,” harvey swiveled in his chair as donna looked your way, “oh?” harvey smirked as you sighed, “that’s not how it works, we don’t just walk into a room and have it speak to us. we survey the place, fresh eyes and open minds. we look for the things that everyone else seems to miss. we put ourselves in the minds of the criminals themselves, to get a better understanding of them, why they did it and all. you work your way back, start from the victim maybe, see where they’ve been, what they did in the last week, who they talk to. sometimes the killers in their personal circle but not always. every case is different, we try our best to provide an accurate, unbiased profile.”

“i want to take you on my desk, right now.” you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends words as donna stared intently, “we. you said ‘we’, as if you know what they do and their job. oh my god, you use to be one. that’s the job you had before coming here! you have a degree in criminal justice, and you said your last job you were at for what, seven years?”

“i graduated high school early, entered harvard at a young age, graduated, entered the fbi at the same time as a— friend. was also studying law, sat the exam in new york since it’s where i wanted to be. finished up at harvard, i was mid to late twenties when i left, wound up here and am now a junior partner, capiche?”

“could just say your age.” mike stood by the door with a wad of files in his hand, “i’d rather die, mike.” harvey laughed, “please don’t incentivise my lovely girlfriend to killing herself mike.”

“as nice as it is to see you all bonding, and trust me, it hits me right in the heart, jessica wants yourself and y/n in the conference room.” louis spoke from the door as you stood up, “first of all, trust with you is fickle, second, tell it to hit you in the face next time lou.” you smacked harvey’s arm as he held his arms up, “friendly fire, i’ll put it out later.” you shoved him by his back before smiling at louis, “i’m sorry about him, he’s not a big fan of the fbi.” louis nodded as he followed you, “duly noted.”

“she’s right, damn pigs.” harvey joked as you approached the conference room, “your highness,” you grinned, “you never treat me so nicely when we’re at home harvey.” he held his hand over his heart, “now don’t lie sweetheart, i’m as nice as mike.” the snort that left your lips had harvey doubling over, “oh please, nice as mike? you wish.”

your giggles were drained from your throat as you stared at half of your old team.

derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia & spencer reid. the last name, and face you’d still not looked at yet. thankfully, harvey noticed your tenseness, “y/n? sweetheart, you alright?” there it was, that word, sweetheart. spencer couldn’t help but wonder, was it just a word? you always use to call him it, before you dated, teasing of course.

“yeah, i’m fine harv.” he nodded, even if he didn’t believe you he could always ask later on. pulling out his and yours chairs, you sat next to one another. “harvey specter & y/n l/n?” emily questioned as you nodded, “the one and only. and then there’s y/n.” harvey leaned back in his chair, whilst derek stared him down.

what an ass. is what he wanted to say, it was also what he assumed emily was thinking. “emily.” she glanced over at you, surprised at you using her name, “it’s nice to see you all. how’ve you been?” and the bewildered expression was wiped clean off your face, no remnant left. you were a damn lawyer, if there was one thing you’d learned, it was to keep a straight face.

penelope smiled, “we’ve been good, y/n. but we miss you, back home. you’re a lawyer now huh?” you grinned, “the one and only.” harvey squeezed your hand, you squeezed back. “youngest junior partner, ever. my dream. just hoping to make it to senior partner soon, take the title of youngest out from under this guy. i’m happy here, i hope you are too. but down to business.”

and for the next few hours, you’d sat and listened. overlooking the case files, giving statements, reviewing security footage from surrounding houses. at some point mike ended up in the room, having met with your client and being harvey’s associate.

you’d had the pleasure of introducing spencer and mike, the two undeniably similar. you felt comfortable, even betting with penelope that if they touched the world would implode.

“and how much would he loose?”

“127,478.23.” mike and spencer rushed out as the rest of you fought to suppress your smiles, “well y/n, seems like we’ve got a genius-off.” derek laughed as the two men looked towards you, “don’t worry i’ll still love you mike.” mike scoffed at your words, “what makes you think i’d loose?”

“because i know you, and i know reid. trust me, you’d loose.”

reid. not spencer, spence, sweetheart. none of the above, you’d used his last name. as if he was nothing more than a colleague.

“okay, we’ve been here for far too long. and as much as i’d like to sit here and slowly rot, i’d rather do that at the restaurant i have booked for dinner with two lovely ladies. y/n and i have a trial date tomorrow, 8.00am. i think, we bring him along, show him what’s to happen if he doesn’t confess, than toast victory champagne when said confession rolls through. how’s that sound?” if derek’s grin was any indicator, besides a big fat yes?

spencer wanted to puke, ‘lovely ladies?’ multiple women? this man was insufferable. you gathered yourself and harvey’s files, a hand gestured towards you, the last file in said hand. “thanks reid.” he smiled, “no problem-o.” your eyebrows furrowed, “never change do you?” spencer didn’t have time to respond, his brain was too busy blowing a fuse as harvey opened the door for you. “ready for dinner lovely lady?” they all heard harvey ask as you nodded, the four watched as you walked out, his hand on your back as he pecked you on the lips.

“reid, you alright?” derek’s hand rested on his shoulder, “i’m fine, why wouldn’t i be fine? don’t we have places to be? hotch would want to know their on our side, that they reviewed all the information. they’ll help us get a confession out of him.” derek sighed, “because you just saw your ex, who you haven’t seen in years. the one you never got over, happily living in new york as comfortable as possible. a successful business woman and lawyer, happily in a relationship.”

spencer shook his head, “you don’t know that.” emily directed a sympathetic smile his way, “we sat with them for three hours. we watched them laugh, bounce off of eachother for theories, quite literally finish eachothers sentences. order food for eachother without asking, and get their meals right. they held hands when they could, he continued to call her sweetheart. and now they’re going out to dinner.”

spencer’s shoulder dropped, they were right. he’d come here excited at the possibility of seeing you again, talking to you. maybe even beginning again with you. instead, you’re apparently with some suited up asshole. he was annoyingly sweet when it came to you though.

as if the whole three hours weren’t a slap in the face, harvey’s voice rung out through the hallway, “there’s my lovely lady!” rachel, who they’d all met earlier on, was currently guiding a young girl to harvey’s arms. “daddy!” if hearts were boats, than his was sinking. he may have had a chance beforehand, but now?

“is mommy here?” your daughter was currently situated on harvey’s hip, “why don’t you hug her and find out?” your arms were out in the open as your daughter squealed before running to you, “d’you have a fun day with rach?” she nodded her head rapidly as yourself and harvey smiled, he stood behind you, chest to back. his hand rested on your waist as the other moved aside hair from her face, before moving hair from your own.

“now, my lovely ladies, it’s time for dinner.”

lovely ladies, for once, spencer had made a mistake. harvey was going out with multiple women, but not in the way he thought. his daughter and the mother of his child, you.

his words and actions meant nothing, they would mean nothing. you were happy, so happy. you had everything you wanted, a loving marriage and man, a gorgeous family. something spencer hadn’t given you. a man who knew you could hold your own. spencer knew that too, but he couldn’t help himself back then.

right now, you were living your best life.

[docholligay]

What western novels do you recommend? I don’t think I’ve ever read one and was hoping to give it a try!

I LOVE Westerns. I love them even when they aren't particularly good. Whenever people accuse me of hating genre fiction, I'm like, "I think my collection of Westerns begs to differ. I just have DIFFERENT bad taste." (My collection of horror books too)

OKAY SO, MUCH OF THIS DEPENDS ON WHAT YOU'D LIKE TO FIND IN A WESTERN NOVEL.

Perhaps the best Western Novel ever written: Lovesome Dove, by Larry McMurtry.

It's not just me that would say this of Lonesome Dove, I think you can find this on lists of the world's greatest Westerns, it's fairly largely acknowledged as a great American Novel, many books have TRIED to be Lonesome Dove and are not. This book was one of the things Jill and I talked for HOURS about on our first date. We almost mutually changed our last names to McCrae instead of her taking Holligay. She walked down the aisle to the theme from the miniseries.

To MASSIVELY OVERSIMPLIFY, this is the story of a cattle drive from Texas to Montana. But it's about relationships, and dedication, and doing everything right and losing anyhow, sometimes. It's about finding connections. It's about dreams and failures. It contains one of the greatest versions of "the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one" in platonic form. Also the idea that a friend, who is never anything romantic, can be the love of your life.

A fun revival Western: The Shootist by Glendon Swartout

I actually just reread this! So in the 80s and 90s, Westerns became 'grittier' sort of like comic book movies did in the 00s. This is not an altogether bad thing, and it certainly wasn't all the way to 'gritty' until we get to, movie wise, things like 3:10 to Yuma, which actually is incredible. ANYWAY, so The Shootist breaks from a lot of the molds of 60 and 70s Westerns (upstanding law officer, gang of mustache twirling villains, etc) and is about the last great shootist--what a gunfighter would have been actually called in the 1800s--who is dying of cancer.

I know that does not make it sound fun, but it is, actually, and it is an easy read. Lots of fun Western colloquialisms and there IS depth there if you want to go looking for it, but it's totally extraneous to the enjoyment of the book and also might be half made up in my head.

A great classic Western: Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey

Riders of the Purple Sage is actually responsible for helping form a lot of what we understand as being the Western genre today. This puppy has it all: Gunfights, cattle rustling, the moral code of one's own pride, falling in love with a lonely little woman hell bent to make it on her own.

There are so many things in this novel that will come to define the genre, but because it is a little pre-genre, at least in a strong and stratified way that separates itself from the dimestore novels, it's not as formulaic as you might expect and borrows heavily from early 1900s literature wrought large.

A WESTERN Western: Literally anything by Louis L'amour

Am I here to defend Louis L'amour? No I am not. Do I love Louis L'Amour? Yes absolutely. I am not even so much suggesting that you actually read a L'amour book because I think you really have to love the genre to get into them, but boy are they GENRE. Love them. There's like 5 or 6 plotlines between them. I read them in the tub all the time. I don't even count them toward my books read they are such popcorn. Delightful. I gave them away as favors at my wedding.

A modern Western: All The Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy

Now we're getting into the weeds a bit because there are some people who would argue that a lot of what modern Western literary fiction is, isn't really "Westerns" and I know what they're saying but I don't think I agree. There can be great novels of any genre that break genre, and I think this is just one of those. It has all the hallmarks of a Western.

Anyway, anyone who tells you The Road is Cormac McCarthy's best novel is out of their fucking minds and also probably very boring and controversially either doesn't read much or doesn't read much serious stuff. All of McCarthy's border novels are better than The Road, All the Pretty Horses just happens to be my favorite.

A Western that is probably more fairly slotted into Historical Fiction: Doc: A Novel, by Mary Doria Russell.

This book made me stop writing my Doc Holliday historical novel because I can't do a better job than this.

[hxuse-xf-black]

PowerPoint #2: Lucy Weasley

Lucy, grumbling: Fine, I guess I'm up.

Louis: These aren't supposed to be personal. James Sirius: Your presentation was literally the most personal. You don't get to judge anyone. Alice II: You know, I am curious about this one though. What are the weirdest things in her bag? Hadley (OC): That's for me to know, and for you to find out. Lucy: If you're all ready to be quiet now, we can actually start.

Fred II: The fuck, Hads? Hadley (OC), defensively: Look, I wouldn't have half the weird things in y bag if you people didn't end up in so much trouble. Alice II: She's not wrong. At this point her bag should be a certified Deus ex Machina. James Sirius: But why 1967? Why not 1968? Or 1966? Hadley (OC): Because 1967 was what I had, okay?

Hadley (OC): It's three, actually. Lucy: Correction: it was three. The third got lost during the whole Knight Bus thing. Louis, under his breath: Dear god, don't remind me. Alice II, shaking her head gravely: That was a dark day.

Hadley (OC): That's not too bad, actually. I have some that are even older.

James Sirius, bewildered: Why?! Louis, so tired: Please don't answer that.

Hadley (OC): THAT IS PERFECTLY REASONABLE! Lucy: Bitch, no it's not! Fred II: I mean, if it was just one, maybe, but five? That's pretty weird, Hads. Hadley (OC), harrumphing: I stand by it.

Hadley (OC): Tons of people have collections of dead butterflies on display. Lucy: Not in their backpack! James Sirius: Name one person you know that has a collection of dead butterflies. Hadley (OC): My moms! Louis: That's two people, technically, but I'll let it slide.

Alice II: I have so many questions. Hadley (OC): I got it that time with the cactus and I never really got around to taking it out. Louis: We swore not to about the cactus thing. Fred II, scoffing: Like you can talk! You brought up the selkie in your presentation! Louis: The selkie was totally different! James Sirius: How?! Alice II, cutting in: Can we not? I have a migraine. James Sirius: *nods sympathetically and pulls her close* Fred II: Fine, but only because you didn't mention the selkie. Louis: I mentioned it once. You've mentioned it, like, twelve times. Fred II: Because you mentioned it first!

Alice II: Aren't you an atheist? Hadley (OC): Yeah. Alice II: Then why- Hadley (OC): It's probably best that we don't get into that.

Hadley (OC): Before anyone says anything, it was a birthday present from my mom. Lucy: That doesn't explain why she gave it to you. Hadley (OC), giving her a quizzical look: You've met her, right? Lucy: Yeah, she makes really good cookies. Hadley (OC): You're thinking of my momma. I'm talking about my mom. Alice II: The one that was convicted of murder? Hadley (OC): She was never convicted. Louis: This whole thing has been a rollercoaster. Just putting it out there. James Sirius, bitterly: You started it, Mr. Common Sense

Fred II: Again, the fuck, Hads? Hadley (OC): They're my brother's! James Sirius: Uh huh, sure. Hadley (OC): They are! Lucy, teasing: Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Louis: You know, these numbers have all been very specific. Fred II: Yeah, did you count them? Lucy: This isn't about me. It's about Hadley. Hadley (OC): Speaking of me, I've got dibs on going next for completely unrelated reasons. James Sirius: Not suspiciously phrased whatsoever. Hadley (OC): Shut up.

Masterlist Louis< >Hadley

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

How does Louis know to manifest these things? I feel like the greatest could be the theme song of Louies this week.

He literally wrote a song in lockdown about how infused his fandom was going to be this week together with him. Us against the world.

It’s just been like this for Louis and Louies since hiatus, really, but much more intensely since 2019. Louies who love Louis have been through some darkness with him, and his music has helped us through some real dark personal stuff. You can’t explain to someone outside the fandom what he means to us, why bad reviews and internet hatred simply don’t matter to us, because being a Louie is so much more than a popularity contest or bragging rights or getting critical approval. Louis has brought people together to talk about fairness, charity, friendship, literature, poetry, music, politics, capitalism and economics, issues of sexuality, gender, equality, and artistic freedom. He doesn’t just talk the talk but walks the walk, and his actions push us to be a better, kinder, more persistent, stronger collective— bigger than one person. Louis sets the high bar. He strives to excel but stays humble, checks his privileges, knows he is fallible like everyone else. His music is incredible and will never disappoint.

The reason that One Direction fans loved the music — fans of all ages and all types, not only young girls — was because it was emotionally meaningful. The music moved away from superficial, bubblegum pop toward something complicated and honest, and fans could understand that it wasn’t all champagne and roses for the boys. We could relate to the feelings of disappointment, loss, friendship, longing, and nostalgia in the songs. And as it turned out, 80% of that turn was because of Louis, as we can now see in the themes of their solo music.

Faith in the Future gives me the same feeling as the best of 1D, and I mean that in a complimentary way. It has both masterful storytelling (Taylor level) and a way to connect deeply to Louis, to understand his state of mind in the most intimate way. At the same time, it gives us insight into our own heartbreaks, our own feelings of longing and nostalgia. It also makes for a happy anticipation for tour, like the very best 1D songs. The feeling at Louis’ concerts is an unbridled euphoria; you can feel it radiating from him and his band. It’s the best therapy 😅.

[vodkaskys]

FANFIC REC: x factor era

sink me in my sorrows (i hope i come up tomorrow) (in which harry has never gotten better with being jealous and louis deals with it as best as he can.) (9k)

Need So Much of You ( the would-have-been canon compliant, fake relationship, friends with benefits, friends to lovers fic where Louis wonders if this thing going on with Harry is going to break him or change everything for the better.) (46k)

Bohemian Rhapsody is Not a Documentary (But freddieismyqueen) ( how many wonderful adjectives can be applied to Louis Tomlinson and his everything?) (3k)

Sweetest Little Thing (Harry takes a moment show off his new little squish to the boys.) (6k)

the sunflower collection ( harry’s love through the ages, as told through his songs.) (11k)

Hit That High Note Again (Basically, Harry is auditioning for xfactor where one of the judges is the famous singer and adidas model Louis Tomlinson who happens to be interested in Harry from the moment they met in the bathroom.) (4k)

Untangle Me (the one where Harry and Louis finally get it right.) (103k)

New Places, New Possibilities (Harry has always longed for Louis from afar, never sure exactly what Louis wanted, or if they could even have what they wanted. Even though Louis would sneak into Harry's bed every chance he could, they'd never gone further than cuddles and innocent kisses. But when the boys are finally away from home on their first visit to LA, things finally begin to change.) (12k)

Just Ask Me To ( the X Factor era canon fic where they learn how to be a couple and that not everyone is going to be on their sides especially those with plain white t-shirts and saccharine smiles.) (120k)

Hiding Place ( the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.) (365k)

no one needs to know we're feeling (higher and higher and higher) (It's not like this is a new feeling, because he's felt this way practically since he first met him in the toilets, it's just. He really, really wants to kiss him.) (1k)

the whole world, it is sleeping (but my world is you) (Louis never really knew commitment, never really knew love, until Harry.) (22k)

Woke Up With a Boy (Who Looks Just Like You) ( snapshots of the week Louis and Harry jump four years into their (unknowingly married) future suddenly and have to gather their bearings without alerting anyone else.) (26k)

Sonic Sounds (Harry loves feeling embarrassed. Louis is happy to help.) (5k)

Could you love me anyway ( Harry and Louis begin playing ping pong during the X-Factor Tour. It quickly gets out of hand.) (13k)

gets me overwhelmed ((harry gets horny when he's high and louis has a huge cock. they fuck on the tour bus)) (7k)

Boys aren’t supposed to be this pretty (The worst part about being eighteen and in love is having no one in whom to confide. That’s what Louis tells himself anyways, with all the robust, headstrong confidence of a boy not yet rejected. The worst part is not having anyone to gush to, rather than prickling in the back of your throat when the boy of your dreams gives you a shy grin, rather than the nights spent staring at the plywood fade of the bunk bed above you.) (1K)

One more time again (the morning of his second sold-out performance at Madison Square Garden, Harry wakes up to find that he's sixteen years old, on The X Factor, and that he has a chance to make things right.)(232K)

[swoftbambi]

°″・rich boys aot 👾☁️

w/eren, jean, armin, levi, porco ♡

eren: i feel like he got his money from his mother (i can only think of fashion designer carla because of miekasa). he can’t have money he spends it frivolously. he buys caviar just because and he hates it. eren takes him and his friends on vacation getaways mostly to somewhere sunny (just got armin :D) and he gets the best hotel. no for fashion he shows himself out, he buys the newest gym wear and designer shit. if you’re with him make sure you don’t go bankrupt cause this boy can spend.

jean: for me, rich boy jean is natural to me. he got his money from his mom and dad. they have a family business or i think of prince jean living lavishly. he doesn’t really spend his money a lot. he mostly buys some cashmere sweater or new watch. most of his money goes towards dates and gifts for you. jean will spend his money on you like he’s some type of sugar daddy i swear, but he does it cause he loves you and wants you to have everything.

armin: he got his money from being born into a rich family (this aint canonverse so shhh), his parents. now he does not spend his money, and when he does it’s mostly on books, jewelry, or small trinkets like those random things you find at those random thrift stores. (look under cut) he does spend his money though on tropical vacations, bali, cancun, the caribbean islands, that’s where he will go all out. he donates some of his money. whatta king.

connie: connies just like eren but dumber?. now this dude got his money from investing and all of a sudden he checked his bank account and was like :0. he spends his money on clothes particularly shoes. drops 100k for the new yeezy collection. spends a mortgage on a custom fanny pack from louis v. cant even. he secretly wants to be invited or get a ticket to the met gala. he doesn’t really go on vacation or really go anywhere, he’s a hermit in his big ass house.

levi: he got his money from his business. yes ma’am. he again does not spend it. you would never think he has a sea full of green until you see him with a paul rich watch. he spends his money wisely. groceries, mortgage, and car that’s it. he will though when your dating let you pick where you spend your anniversary. doesn’t give you a budget cause it’s supposed to be about you and him.

porco: got rich from business. ceo porco in ya area! he’s like another levi but you would know he was rich but you wouldn’t know how much dinero in the banko. like his house is like those generic modern la mansions. spends his money on good looking clothes and cars. ferraris, lambos, mercedes benz’s. maybe even buy a mf nascar who knows. he kinda acts like your sugar daddy, he’ll buy you anything that you want tbh and pretends you’re asking for the most. you could literally be like “i don’t really want it”.

© 2021 all rights reserved flavoni do not copy, repost, edit, and/or plagiarize any of my works.

[twsted-princess]

"Unhand her you beast!!! Unless you want to lose a finger!!!"

(Artwork cropped and done by @briarrosescurse and @chibichibisha)

Bio

Name: Louise

Nicknames: Sir Louise of Genovia, (Himself) Louis, (Melanie) Lu-Lu, (Mori) Minnow, (Floyd) Snack, (Leona) Monsieur Souris de Ville/ Mr. City Mouse, (Rook) Gerbil, (Omari) Sir Squeak-a-Lot, (Kirsten @rookvonhunt) Little Knight (Ellen @multydoodles) Honey Badger (Basil @squidwen) Mr. Whiskers (Tomoyuuki @just-an-otakus-blog)

Voice Actor: Misaki Kuno

Age: Unknown

Height: 2" (tail length is 3" so in total he's 5")

Homeland: Earth, The Kingdom of Genovia

Birthday: Not quite sure but he knows that it's around spring time

Starsign: Aries or Taurus

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Family: Melanie (Closest friend)

Occupation: Student, Bodyguard of Melanie

Based off: Jaq and Gus

Professional Status

Dorm: Ramshackle Dorm

School Year: First

Class: 1-A

Best Subject: Alchemy (Good at collecting ingredients)

Club: Newspaper

Dominant Hand: Right

Favorite Food: Swiss cheese fondue with all the fixings

Hated Food: Capers

Likes: Being Mel's friend, Historical knights, Jousting, Epic fairy tales, Cheese in any form, Anyone who's nice to Melanie

Dislikes: Men, (mainly those who show romantic interest in Melanie) Bullies, Not being taken seriously, Very fast speeds

Hobbies: Swordfighting, Assisting Melanie

Talents: Having defeated "a massive serpent" (fought a garden snake that bit Melanie when she was little)

Unique Magic: Has none

Backstory

The loyal "appointed knight" of Melanie and her best friend. He acts like a classical knight, protecting women and fighting great beasts for the sake of the greater good.....but everyone else sees a tiny mouse who thinks he can fight a fully grown human. He might talk a big talk but he'll make an attempt at any challenge no matter how risky. The most important thing is his highness's safety and happiness. They've been close friends since she was a little girl, the only one who could understand him. Quite literally as she's the only person who could talk to him back on Earth. If it's one thing about him is that he's faithful to his companions. To him Melanie deserves all the safety and happiness in the world and if you treat her well then consider yourself his new friend.

[ares-would-be-proud]

Anon said Is it alright to request some head cannons-nsfw preferably for Reiner being in love with his precious step-sister? Like he has to take care of her so no one hurts her, and who better to take care of her then himself?

Reiner thinking he's the only man good enough for you, his precious step-sister.

{ Reiner x fem!reader | tw:stepcest, tw:possessiveness, tw:overprotective, tw:overstimulation | smut, forbidden love | modern }

{ "Mars and Venus, Allegory of Peace" 1770 by Louis-Jean-François Lagrenée 1724 - 1805 } (ha! Get it? Bc they're also siblings)

Sees it as his own job to protect and dot on you, not letting you go somewhere alone without him by your side, keeping an arm around you at all times.

Dotting in the way he never forgets your favourite snacks each time he goes to the store, takes over cooking duty when your dad and his mom go out, makes sure you're sleeping and eating well.

Being skeptical of your friends, and making his own friends get on edge if their eyes happen to stare at you for a bit too long for his liking.

Bertolt never meets your eyes because of that, even Annie just glues her eyes to her phone whenever you walk in the room.

Will literally intimidate people from even thinking of approaching you by his presence alone, you could safely walk anywhere anytime with him by your side.

And yet, with you he melts at every flutter of your eyelashes and twirl. Becoming putty in your hands with every soft touch and small peak you give his cheek.

His brain almost stops each time you smile.

And while to everyone else it seems like he's just an overprotective big brother, behind closed doors it's another story.

His hand trailing up your thighs under the dinner table while his mom tells you about her day.

His lips kissing down your neck whenever you wear that low-cut top, hands going under the fabric and tugging down your bra till your breasts spill over them.

Turning a deaf ear to your protest's about being late to your friend's house, his attention solely on sucking marks down your chest before taking a nipple between his lips and sucking while flickering the other.

By the end of it, you had to change into a long neck shirt from the amount of hickies and marks he took his sweet time leaving behind.

Is the type to take you with him places, his own personal cheerleader.

Loves making you call him big brother, even if you weren't younger he'd still demand it.

I say "demand" but in reality he's just pouting with puppy eyes.

Since your dad married his mom, he was smitten the day he saw you at the wedding.

Oh and he will literally buy you anything if you play your cards right, even if he goes broke.

Really easy to manipulate if you're willing to play the role of the cheering sweet little sister, his heart easily swaying with the sway of your short skirt, throat going dry at your honey filled voice calling him the best big brother.

Really really wants to take care of you.

Like really, will find excuses to let him take care of you and do stuff for you.

Although nothing comes without a price…

Let's just say what's normal sex for him is overstimulation for the normal person, he has insane stamina

And his cooing for you that you can give him another orgasm, just one more.

You both could be sitting on the couch, watching a movie you've been wanting to watch for a while, and he will pop a boner because the way you giggled at a scene was really adorable-

Even while knowing that his mom was just a room away—fixing both of you some dinner in the kitchen—it didn't stop your step brother from trailing his big hands up your legs, squeezing the plump of your thighs before pulling at the hem of your shorts, an intense stare in his eyes.

"Come here" he says while patting his thighs, "really missed you baby, wanna feel you against me." 

Coaxing you into giving in, not wait for a reply before letting his hands do all the work to sit you on his lap. Burying his face in your neck as his hot breath tickles your skin, almost whining about how tiring today was while his hands rub circles on your back.

You don't miss the curving of his lips when he asks if you could kiss it better for him, make your big brother feel better.

His hands start trailing up and down your back instead, feeling the softness of your shirt, the curve of your ass, circling around your waist before going up again, adding just enough pressure to loosen any tense muscle you might have.

You try not to give in despite his coaxing, mouth in a frown as you stare at the remote still clutched in your hand, the sound of the movie you were watching still playing in the background almost mocking you.

"Reiner can't this wa-" you try to brush him off but the rocking of his knee between your legs shuts you up, making your grind back against them to get more friction as you press your thighs together.

Eyes glossy as your brain gets clouded by the pleasure, your older brother bouncing you on his leg till your toes curl and mewls escape your lips. 

You hear him shushing you, murmuring how your step mom might hear you, only to grind against your dampening shorts faster.

The knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter as you get closer to the edge, biting down on his shoulder to muffle your moans, your own hips pushing back against him.

His arms get a firm hold of your hips, stilling them as he stops his own leg too, mere seconds before you get that final push.

"Want your brother to make you feel really good? Want me to take care of you huh?"

You quickly nod without thinking, aching for any sort of relief. He rewards you with a kiss, slow and gentle as if you're some delicate soft thing he needs to pamper.

-

And to him, you are. That's why he took you to his room despite the growing urge to push you against the nearest surface and ram inside you,

No, your big brother would never. He sees it as his duty to protect you from everything and so it follows that he wouldn't settle for less than a soft bed and a pillow under your back.

That's why he tucks you against him the second you get on the bed, his back to the headboard with you sitting between his legs, back against his chest.

His hand slipping past the elastic band of your panties, fingers painfully slowly moving up and down your slit before parting your lips. 

Your back arching when they start toying with your puffy clit, rubbing circles around it and flickering it till your soaked panties start clinging to your wet pussy.

Brain turning into mush when his fingers shove into your sopping hole, the faster he goes the louder your whimpers get as his thick fingers thrust in and out.

His other hand put enough pressure against your stomach to keep you in place when your thighs began to quiver, the more you squirm in place when his thumb presses down your now swollen clit the more your back rubs against his hardening cock.

"Fuck- just like that." Groans slip past his lips with each roll of his hips against your ass, precum starting to seep through the fabric of his pants.

He's as desperate as you are.

It's not long before he has you creaming on his fingers, watching you unfold and shake before gushing against his hand. He slowly pulls his fingers out as sticky lines cling to them, looking at you panting with your legs still shaking, before shoving them back in and fucking your own mess back inside you.

You let out a strangled scream at the punishing pace, head lolling to the side from the overstimulation and mind going completely blank.

All sorts of compliments and soft words leave his lips, praising you as he forces a second orgasm out of you, having you turn into putty in his hand.

Too much- it's too much, you're too sensitive and barely able to form coherent sentences, a shaking quivering babbling mess, too high in pleasure to notice the tear stains down your cheeks. Attempting to finally catch your breath now that your brother is satisfied.

If only.

"You're ready for me sweetheart?" He says, voice laced with anticipation as he pats your messy cunt, making your knees buck. "Ready for your big brother's cock filling up this pretty pussy?"

One second he's tugging your soaked paintes to the side, cold sending shivers up your spine, the next he's tapping the head of his cock against your hole, pushing up your slippery folds till the tip rubs against your sensitive clit, making more tears collect clouding your vision.

Cock throbbing at just the idea of your gummy walls squeezing him inside, making his thrusts stutter and grip almost bruising against your skin. Filling his room with the sound of skin on skin slapping as his hips slam against your wet thighs

The image of your knees folded against your chest till the base of his cock disappears inside, reaching impossibly deep till he's kissing the entrance of your womb before slamming against the rough patch of skin that makes you drool.

It's driving him crazy with lust.

And despitet how much he wants nothing more than to fuck his cum inside you, fill you up and plug you with his cock, really make sure that you're tied to him for life and no other man will even think of looking your way with, he will still pull out.

Sprouts of cum rushing out his swollen cock as he pulls out with a wet pop, whie ropes painting your stomach and chest instead, going down your thighs and the curve of your ass before staining the sheets. 

Just have your brain swimming in milk and honey as you take in the afterglow, he'll run soothing circles up your thighs while you doze off to the rise and fall of his chest.

The scenes play out in perfect order in his mind. Yeah, just the thought alone is enough to make him want to go for three rounds at least till he's cumming dry. 

"Alright, spread your legs more for me, yeah just like that."

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Mon 14 June ‘21

Louis Tomlinson Cooks is here!! Yeah it’s 100% for sure as delightful to watch Louis make himself a sandwich as you might have hoped, but how was his cooking? Well I’ll let Louis rate himself-- “I’m not gonna lie not that appetizing is it, I mean look at it,” he says when it comes time to taste his creation, plus, “chopping peeling slicing not great to be fair- everything else I’m all right” (he’s… not wrong, even aside from the peeler issues has this man ever held a knife??) but- “it probably tastes nice though as I said it’s not about presentation for me… [munches cutely]... it’s actually pretty banging, that’s actually quite nice!” Success! Maybe it’s cause he knows the secret to faking good cooking- “as you can see I don’t have a lot of cooking ability so the more butter the better,” I mean the experts can tell you, that’s advanced stuff right there! #Louis-aChild! Substituting mustard and ketchup for coleslaw is a bit of a bold move, but in a belated attempt to convince the kiddos to eat some healthy veg even though he won’t he does bravely try the cucumber strips despite being “not really a man for cucumber” and makes a pained attempt to be positive- “bit of crunch.” Oh and speaking of crunch I’m relieved to have learned that the waffle is NOT a waffle, it’s a crispy waffle shaped bit of potato; a much more reasonable fish sandwich addition than the American version of a potato waffle! Full Time Meals polled to see what people think of Louis cooking; the two choices are “it was amazing” and “the best,” THEY GET IT. My kind of Louis poll! Helen Seamons rated him a “10/10 for effort and entertainment”, Masterchef acknowledged Louis as one of their own, and Marcus Rashford keeps it simple- “my guy” with a lil heart. YEAH, SAME.

Harry showed up in Italy, where he was papped in Venice being driven around (with PA Luis) on a boat (as you do, in Venice). He’s in a cool embroidered Bode shirt and shades and fancy hair, looking good. He’s seen carrying his suitcase, taking photos, and resting his head on his arms looking like a model. One might think, since we just saw the My Policeman cast and crew on set celebrating the wrap of the shoot, that they were done filming and Harry was off to do something different, but nope, he’s there to film! The book has key scenes in Venice that folks had been wondering about the filming of, and David Dawson is also being boated around Venice for the paps, so, it seems that was just for the wrap of the *UK* filming, which makes sense I guess since it would mostly be different crew I imagine, and perhaps some of the main cast are done as well.

Liam’s NFT sale is happening tomorrow! If you’re confused and want more info, I’M NOT GONNA HELP THAT MUCH… uh but I mean you can check out Liam’s youtube video explaining though I would guess that won’t help much (even Liam thinks so; “there’s probably websites that explain a lot better than me” he admits). There is a roundup now posted of what’s on offer for the buyers of the NFTs but I’m gonna be really honest with you, I’m more confused now than I was before. It’s clear that there are only SIX LONELY BUG NFTs right? They for sure said that I believe. But the packages for each different piece (token bundles) seem to me like they’re available to multiple buyers? Like maybe you don’t get the NFT but multiple top bidders on each get the extras? Like they can’t be selling multiple copies of the NFT... can they?! Isn’t the WHOLE POINT that only one person gets to own it? I DON’T FUCKING KNOW I AM SORRY. What I think I understand to be true: the six NFT buyers get to go to “a once-in-a-lifetime immersive dining experience at Resorts World Las Vegas” (this is the dinner with Liam and “a selection of crypto leaders from around the world” which takes place on display inside a giant glass box) and also “a bespoke commemorative presentation box containing the world’s leading holographic display... with audio... and a custom made Lonely Bug commemorative coin,” and “a unique QR code directing the owner to a special ‘Director’s Cut’ edit of the short digital film ‘Making Of Lonely Bug Collection’ which features unreleased footage from the day of the drop showing the creators' reactions when the winning bids came in” (I mean YEAH I would think it’s unreleased it literally hasn’t happened?) But then there are really a lot of other extras including tickets with Meet & Greet access to any Liam Payne headline show around the world, admission to pool and cinema parties in Vegas with Liam, signed art, non-Liam extras (I will literally bid to NOT have 20 minute phone calls with those crypto entrepreneurs PLEASE… but that’s just me), and access to an online party hosted by Liam; I really get the impression many of these, especially the last one, are just crypto tokens that are for sale that aren’t linked to the main Lonely Bug NFTs and many more than 6 people can buy them but a lot of the extras I’m not clear on which it is. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll understand better WE WILL SEE.

Liam also dropped by the discord last night to say some hellos (after a “long long day”) and that he “bought a piece of NFT art of myself tonight I’m going to give it as a prize Monday night so someone can own a piece of art that was owned by me” (an even less tangible bragging point than simply owning an NFT wow that’s an achievement) and the most important update- “I want a French Bulldog”! Oh and he said “that’s like one I did myself” in his fanart channel to a pic of a tiny crocheted illustration of Louis and Harry holding up a rainbow flag. Didya Liam?? (...Liam is crocheting??) Anyway I recognize who it’s supposed to be because it’s based on a familiar piece of fanart, but Liam definitely might NOT realize it’s meant to be someone specific, and tbh I’m more <eyeballs> at him saying that at the rainbow flag crocheted thing than at it being shippy.

Our Song acoustic version is out this Friday!! And Niall talked about NH3 some in an interview today; “I’m in the studio most days, it feels really good. I’m kinda in the latter stages of it and then I’ll go get a band together and go in and record the whole thing. I’ve just kind of been writing for the past 9 or 10 months and really enjoying it” and “It sounds like a complete album. God knows when it’s coming out because I’d like to be able to get around the world to see all the fans as well” and “It’s different. It sounds a lot more grown up. I’m 27 so it’s about time. I really wanted to kinda cement a sound. The singles I’ve released previously have all been kinda different sounds. I would like to have my ballad sound & like a cemented uptempo sound.” He and Anne Marie also talked about one of the other songs they wrote together saying, “It’s kind of like a, how do you describe it- guitar driven meets Tom Petty meets Katy Perry meets…” but say “We haven’t really decided if we are putting it out yet, the conversations are kinda happening... but it’s completely different (from Our Song).”

[troubatrain]

tis the damn season - m. tkachuk

a/n: as we all know, i am an absolute whore for a christmas fic and when i listened to evermore yesterday i knew this needed to be done. i literally haven’t written anything this fast in forever but i hope you guys like it!! (also tagging @igor-shestyorkin​ @blueskrugs​ & @fenwaynightlights​ for reading this last night and telling me it was good so i’d actually finish it ily)

The second you walked into the party, Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you. He knew you were coming, but watching you step into his parent’s house with a plate of your famous chocolate chip cookies and a smile that made his heart skip a beat, was almost taunting him. You dated forever ago, the last real relationship Matthew had ever been in, and by the looks of it - it was staying like that. You greeted everyone, down to the biggest hug to his grandparents who swore you were going to be Matthew’s wife one day. That was because that’s just how you were, kind and smart and constantly impressing anyone who Matthew introduced you too. Every teammate he had at the time loved you, and he knew if you were in Calgary his team now would be the same. Brady adored you, even admitting to his brother he still called you for girl advice because if Matthew fumbled the bag when it came to you there was no way Brady should take his advice. Matthew couldn’t even think about your relationship with his sister, or how crushed she was when you broke up. Then there was his parents, his mom swore it would be okay. That it was just Matthew’s first love and eventually he’d find his forever but he knew she was lying. Matthew found forever with you, and he let it implode because his dream was just more important at the time. Now, he could be at the top of the world and none of it mattered because you weren’t by his side.

Matthew just felt dumb now, because you were on to bigger and better things and you weren’t hung up on your high school ex-boyfriend. You went off to college, crushed it, and moved back into St. Louis with a near perfect job offer and success practically radiating off of you. He was standing in his kitchen in the worst Bud Light Christmas sweater like an eighteen year old frat boy and you looked every bit like the goddess Matthew knew you were. The perfect Christmas red dress you were wearing sat on your frame flawless, and it was obvious that red was still your color.

“I can leave if you want me to?” You ask, leaning into Matthew when you finally made your way over to him. Your voice was low, mouth close to Matthew’s ear while you hugged him so no one could hear you ask. You were an infinitely better person than he was, so of course you asked him if it was okay to stay.

“You’re always welcome here, you know that,” Matthew answers, sipping his beer for some liquid courage he desperately needed.

“Just because your mom invites me doesn’t mean I need to be here,” You shrug, “Maybe you’ve got someone here…”

He would never. Matthew had never even considered it, what it would be like to bring someone home that wasn’t you. There wasn’t one person in Calgary who could measure up, and despite the fact that his family loved him and would accept anyone with open arms, deep down Matthew knew you would always be on their minds.

“I don’t,” Matthew says, trying to stop himself from wrapping his arm around your waist while you stand with your chest still pressed against his from your hello hug, “I mean what would be the point? They don’t make cookies like you do.”

Matthew had to joke, cover up the fact that he was never able to let go of what you had and choke it down with beer he was drinking. He liked seeing you, the same times he did every year. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the occasional summer BBQ was something he looked forward to, sometimes he even hoped for an extra reason for you to both be somewhere. He knew you’d come, because you wouldn’t dare deny his mother’s invitation.

“Of course you noticed I made them,” You rolled your eyes, pushing Matthew back jokingly, “Remember when you used to beg me to make them-”

You stopped yourself when you noticed where this was going, you never brought up the before times. The times when Matthew would give you his best puppy dog eyes for you to bake him something, followed by a plea to just look the other way when he devoured the entire plate.

“Maybe it’s best we broke up, I probably never would’ve gotten drafted by eating these,” Matthew teases, sliding past you to grab a cookie off the counter and taking a big bite, “Because fuck these are good.”

Matthew’s moans in delight sent a chill up your spine. You hated that he could still do that to you, because it was the same thing every time. You’d see him, and for a moment you’d think that this would work itself out. You could get back together, and falling in love would be just as sweet a second time, but it wouldn’t work. You were settling into your own, a fresh lease signed in your new apartment you were going to move into after New Year’s, and Matthew was going to go back to Calgary where he was a big deal. That was always the dream, to make it big in the league and make his parents proud. Matthew was doing it, not that you ever doubted him, but you were proud nonetheless.

The thing was, because Matthew was doing the damn thing, he gave up you. It was like a deal he made with the devil when he was seventeen, he could have everything he ever wanted if he didn’t have you to hold him back. You always knew that was why he broke up with you, it was the right person at the wrong time.

“It’s nice to see you Matthew,” You muse, biting the inside of your cheeks to hold back the grin on your face. You stopped the conversation before it started, constantly trying to make this as painless as possible, but it wasn’t always easy.

“Wait, uh, you’re going to be here until Christmas right?” Matthew asks, grabbing your attention before you slipped out of the kitchen. Matthew was hopeful, catching a flight a few days earlier than he usually could and landing before Christmas gave him more time to see you.

“I’ll be at my parents house,” You nod, thinking about your childhood bedroom that was currently covered in moving boxes while you waited to settle into your new place.

“Oh sweet,” Matthew takes another swing of his drink, trying to keep his cool because you were the only person who made him completely uncool.

“Yeah, sweet, I’ll see you around,” You wave, disappearing into the kitchen. Matthew takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts for a minute until Brady stepped in front of him. His little brother scoffed, a stupid smirk on his face when he finally spoke.

“Dude that was painful to watch.”

***

Matthew had no idea what the fuck he was doing. His feet were just carrying all two hundred and two pounds of his body in the exact direction of your house. He was drunk, well over the limit of how many whiskey shots he could even handle. He looked at his watch, it was almost three in the morning but if he didn’t get it out now when would he ever. He loved you, and all he could think about is what would happen if he could have just had one more night with you. Maybe you’d feel it, you’d always been pretty intuitive with his feelings, because he was awful with them. He had to make his case, did he even have one?

Oh hey Y/N, I know I’m hammered and it’s three in the morning the day before Christmas Eve but I want you to know I’m still in love with you.

That wouldn’t work, and he was going to have to do better than that. He could turn around and go home, but if he had to watch another one of your Instagram stories and pray that whoever was in them wasn’t your boyfriend again - he would lose his mind before he made it to the holidays next year. He snuck past the gate into your yard, not surprised to see your whole house was sleeping quietly. He picked up a few pebbles from your mother’s garden, shaking them in his hand and hoping you remembered the way he let you know he was outside when you’d sneak out in high school.

One.

Two.

Three.

You were woken up by the sound of three pebbles hitting your window, and you rub your eyes in disbelief by what you were hearing. Matthew wasn’t outside your window at three in the morning looking for you, why would he even think about it? 

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask, poking your head out the window and crossing your arms to battle the cool air blowing through.

“Come down?” Matthew asks, wiping his palms on the back of his jeans and giving you his best smile. A real one, because you’d always been able to tell when it was fake.

You should’ve closed the window, and pushed Matthew to the back of your mind until you found yourself creeping on his Instagram again. You were always a good listener, and you always tried to do the right thing but Matthew was your vice. He’d always been a little bit a bad boy, but never enough to stop you from coming back for more. So you opened your window a little more, slipping down and scaling down your house just like you used to.

Matthew could have pretended like he didn’t notice, his last name faded on the back of the hoodie you were wearing, but he couldn’t. You looked just as cute in it as you did all of those years before, “Seven was such a good number on you, I wish I could have kept it.”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks, hoping Matthew couldn’t catch it in the moonlight, “Why are you here?”

“I want one more night,” Matthew takes a deep breath, standing his ground, “I, uh fuck-”

Matthew Tkachuk had never been good with words. He put his foot in his mouth, all the time, but his plea was something you never thought you’d hear. It was Christmas, you were lonely, and a part of you wondered the same thing. So you said fuck it and decided that this was your problem later, pressing your lips to Matthew’s. Your hands gripped his shirt, trying to get as close to him as you could. Matthew was dumbfounded, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers digging into your sides.

“Can you be quiet?” You ask, pointing at the back door. It was the middle of the night and your parents room was on the first floor but if Matthew was quiet enough you could get him upstairs easily - you used to do it all the time.

Matthew nodded eagerly, following you inside and tip-toeing up the stairs. He was doing a terrible job, either he’d gotten bigger or the floors in your parents house had gotten creakier.

“You said you could be quiet,” You tease, letting Matthew push you against the door, he twisted the lock, smirking at you.

“I’m a lot bigger than I used to be,” Matthew declares, fake puffing out his chest.

“I noticed…” You muse, running over your hands over his shoulders. He’d gotten broader with age, and it wasn’t something that was lost on you. You press your lips to his, throwing your hands around his neck and pulling him closer. Your fingers crept up to his curls, tugging on them slightly. Matthew smirked against your lips, “I missed that.”

“I missed you,” Matthew mutters, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you to your bed. You squeal, tucking your head into shoulder to stop the noise, “Who’s the loud one now?”

“Well don’t stop kissing me then,” You tease, grabbing Matthew and pulling him on top of you. You worked quickly, a pile of clothes in the corner of your that was going to be addressed later. Matthew’s lips were on your neck, his finger circling your clit while you bit your lip hold back a moan, “Matty please-”

The nickname slipped your lips so easily it was like you never should have stopped calling him that. Matthew took notice, and it was like music to his ears, “Anything you want babe.”

“Fuck me,” You breathe out, desperate for as much of him as you could get. Matthew slipped out of his boxers, pumping himself a few times before he gave you a look. You nodded, giving him the go ahead and pulling his lips back to yours. Matthew slipped inside you, and it’d never felt better.

Matthew was better now, much much better. His hips were snapping into you, a near perfect pace while grunts left his lips. The pleasure was almost too much, and you could feel your nails scratching into his back while you bit into his shoulder to keep yourself quiet. His hand snaked down to your clit, “Cum for me babe, c’mon.”

You clenched around him, the sensation was enough to send Matthew over the edge, spilling into you. He dropped to his elbows, placing lazy kisses on your skin while you basked in the post sex glow. Matthew’s skin was glistening against the moonlight from your window, his breath in your ear while you caught yours and it all felt right.

“You know you have to go now,” You remind him, “My dad will murder you if he catches you up here.”

“I know,” Matthew bumps his nose against yours, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow? Or later?”

Later. It had completely slipped your mind that in just a few hours you were going to be forced to run an annual day before Christmas Eve 5k with the Tkachuk’s like you did every year. The idea was somehow worse than doing it on Thanksgiving, and now you had to see Matthew after you let him fuck you in your childhood bedroom. You watched Matthew dress himself, hopping out your window and back to his own house.

Now you just needed some sleep.

***

You felt like shit, and you were missing the iced coffee you didn’t have a chance to get while you trailed behind your parents to meet the Tkachuk’s. You greeted everyone, stopping at Matthew last, you were unsure of how to even greet him after what you’d just done a few hours before. He didn’t think anything of it, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

“Here,” Matthew says, nudging his cup towards you. You assumed it was coffee, but then the taste of a mimosa hit your tongue.

“Jeez,” You choke, coughing while you take down the champagne with just a hint of orange juice.

“Do you think I was going to run this sober? You wore me out last night,” Matthew teases, and he could feel Brady’s gaze on him.

The wheels in Brady’s head were turning. He was suspicious, catching Matthew sneak back into the house early in the morning, and now watching the two of you - it was clear. It became even clearer when they started running, because Brady knew Matthew wasn’t that slow and he didn’t wasn’t going to let Brady beat him. He was though, jogging behind Brady with you and laughing at whatever you said. There was one thing that was clear, Matthew got over his dumb fear of talking to you and finally did. His brother was happy, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going to watch this explode in your faces in a few days. Matthew would go back to Calgary and just the first time you broke, it was going to be ugly.

***

The winter in St. Louis was brisk, but Matthew’s warm body next to you was enough to fight it. Your head was on his chest, and you were snoring softly. Matthew picked you up a few hours after you got home, driving up to the same lake you snuck off to in high school. He stole Brady’s truck, driving off with a bunch of blankets without giving Brady an answer as to where he was going. It was supposed to be romantic, but you’d always been prone to falling asleep when you were with him.

Matthew didn’t have a complaint in the world, you slept the same way you used to. Your head on his chest, a leg tangled with his and your hands clutched to his shirt so he couldn’t move. He wasn’t going anywhere. Matthew would let you sleep the entire day away if he could have. He carded his hands through your hair, a content sigh leaving his lips.

Matthew often wondered what would have happened if you never broke up. If you’d followed him to Calgary and what that would have been like. Maybe you’d still be together, and after all these years he’d start looking for a ring. If you’d buy a house together, maybe even be that family that houses wayward hockey players just like his parents did. You’d be the person he got to share looks with across the room when he was forced to have conversations he didn’t want to have. He’d get to take you family skates and you’d get to see him play and you’d live happily ever after.

Reality was always much more cruel, and it wasn't pretty. You had a life in St. Louis, one that didn’t include him. You were moving along in your life just fine without him. You didn’t need Matthew and it was dumb of him to think you’d drop it all for him. You never asked him to stay, and it would be unfair to ask you to wait around.

“I can hear you thinking, you might start to malfunction soon bubs,” You whisper, your voice still laced with sleep. You meant to run a hand through his hair, but the palm of your hand just hit his forehead while you moved it back down slowly. Matthew chuckles, the silly nicknames you gave him seemed to come out without a second thought, and it felt good to be called any of them by you.

“Just thinking about you,” Matthew breathes, and you pick up your head. Matthew shoots you a smile, but you knew he was faking it.

“Matty-” You take one deep breath, “Don’t ask me to come with you, you know it’s not fair to me.”

Your voice was cracking, pleading Matthew to just not have this conversation. You weren’t ready for it, because it meant accepting defeat. The universe wasn’t going to allow you to be together, and that’s just how it was going to be.

“I don’t want to go back to Calgary,” Matthew whispers, more to himself than you. He did want to go back, but he wanted to go back with you.

“You have to,” You sit up, a chill running through your body from the loss of Matthew’s body next to yours. You rub your arms to warm up, “You have to because we’re just not going to make it work Matty.”

Matthew nods solemnly, like his heart just broke all over again. You were right, you always were, it just seemed naïve to think you’d both be any different now than you were the first time, “Let me take you home.”

The car ride was awkward. The only thing cutting through the silence was the Christmas music playing on the radio. You sat with your head pressed against the window, counting down the streets until you finally hit yours. Matthew halted the car, and you gave him one more look before you stepped out of the car, “Tell your parents I said Merry Christmas.”

“I will,” Matthew nods, and those were the last words you heard him say before you walked up your stairs. Matthew waited for you to be inside before he drove off, a small part of him hoping you’d run back to the car and tell him you wanted him too. You didn’t, and that was just how it was going to be.

***

Christmas was awful, the past two days seemed to pass were pure agony. You were sad, and knowing Matthew was about three blocks and four houses away wasn’t helping. You were counting down the hours until he was back in Calgary, away from you and you could finally grieve him for the final time. The last nail in the coffin of what was once your first love had yet to be hammered in but once he was gone that would settle it.

You had two more hours until you knew his flight would leave, and you were so close to the finish line you could taste it. You were home alone, your parents still making their way to a few neighbors' houses to spend the last few moments of the holiday with their friends. You were sulking, a wine bottle stolen from your mother’s collection and the Grinch on your TV. 

A doorbell was the only thing to interrupt you, and you could see a tuft of curly hair through the window. Matthew was standing outside your door, pacing back and forth while he waited for you to open it. You thought about acting like you weren’t home, maybe he’d leave and never come back. You opened it, not even having a chance to open your mouth before he spoke.

“Come with me,” Matthew pleads, “I love you, I still do and I always have and we’re meant to be together. There isn’t anyone I want more by my side than you, and I know it’ll be hard but I’m not ready to let you slip through my fingers again.”

“Matthew-” You interrupt grabbing his arm to stop his pacing, “Listen to yourself.”

“I am, and I want this, I never wanted to give up you and I just can’t fly back there with people who don’t know when I’m faking a smile or when I don’t want to be somewhere,” Matthew explains, running a hand over his face, “You’re the best I’ll ever have and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

“I’ll come until New Year’s,” You agree, Matthew’s face breaking out into a very real smile, “We need to talk about this Matthew.”

“You talk, I’ll listen, you can have whatever you want,” Matthew agrees, because he’d move the sun if he could for you. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the same front door he kissed you in front of on your first date. The porch light still flickers the way it used to while Matthew’s hands gripped your face because he was afraid to let you go. You both finally pulled, Matthew mumbling his next words against your lips.

Tis the damn season huh?

[laurenairay]

1 with Matthew Tkachuk possibly if you want to?

Thanks for requesting this one, anon! I had a lot of fun writing this one – maybe I should write more for him in the future? 

Tagging @danglesnipecelly for getting me on the Matthew Tkachuk train the first place! 😘

“You owe me.” “Fine, whatever you want.”

*

Summer. The start of warmer weather, longer nights, ice-cream dripping down your fingers, the happiness that only true sunshine could bring. It also meant gatherings of friends from far and wide, those still living at home in St Louis like you, or those who ventured out of state and further afield. Friends whose lives had taken then far away from home, but the lure of summer always brought them back. Friends, like your neighbour Matthew Tkachuk.

You’d already seen him a couple of times since he arrived home a few days ago, a wave from your house next door and a pizza night when Taryn had come back home too yesterday, but you couldn’t wait for summer to sink into his bones, to give him that freedom he’d been missing too.

That’s when summer would really start.

Growing up, he’d always had that big brother vibe, despite you only being a couple of months younger than him, and you were glad for his steady friendship. But for the past few summers, things had changed slightly. Those friendly brotherly vibes had shifted, the airs of childhood having long faded away, and a teasing playful vibe had turned up in its place. Summer had never lasted long enough for you to figure out how you felt about this change, to be honest. But you were hoping that this was the year, this was when you finally figured out what it all meant.

You were sitting in your room, putting away some laundry when your phone buzzed with a call. The Best Tkachuk. Huh.

“Hey, Matty, what’s up?” you said, smiling.

“Hey, I need your help,”

Woah.

“What’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?” you frowned, dropping the last of your clean socks onto the floor.

“Oh, no, no I’m fine. Well, I’m stressed out because I’m trying to do this dinner thing and…damn it, can you drive me to the grocery store?”

“Why don’t you take your mom’s car? Or the car that you and Brady are sharing?” you asked, confused.

“Mom and Dad took Taryn out to the mall to get some new sneakers. And Brady took off in the car to see that girl he’s sneaking around with that he thinks we don’t know about,”

Oh yeah, Brady was super obvious.

“There’s a grocery store you can walk to in 15 minutes, Matty,” you mused, rolling your eyes.

“I went to that one yesterday and I thought I picked up everything on my list but I missed an ingredient because they didn’t have it,”

His voice was getting a little petulant, a whining tone, making you grin. You were going to help him, obviously, but it didn’t hurt to make him work for it.

“And I should help you…why?” you said simply.

“Because if I screw this up when I said I didn’t need any help then Brady and Taryn will never let me hear the end of it!”

“Again, why should I help you?” you teased.

Matthew groaned down the phone, making you smile.

“Because Brady chopped off your favourite Barbie’s hair when we were kids and Taryn scratched up your 13th birthday CD?”

He had a point…

“Try again,” you grinned.

“Because you’ll have my everlasting gratitude?”

“Hmm…”

You trailed off, pretending to think, earning another groan, although you were pretty sure he’d figured out your game by this point.

“Please?”

The softness of his voice made butterflies fizzle in your stomach at the vulnerability. How could you say not to him?

“Yeah, I’ll take you to the grocery store, Matty. Let me put on some shoes,” you said, smiling.

“Thank you, so much,”

You just laughed, shaking your head. “You owe me,”

“Fine, whatever you want,”

“Ooh that could be dangerous,” you teased.

“I can handle it,”

You grinned at what you knew was a smirk in his voice. This was much more like it. “I’ll see you in just a minute,”

And with that, you ended the call. It didn’t take long for you to get some shoes on, and by the time you were downstairs, Matthew was waiting by the car. You bit your lip to hide your smile at how good he looked, sleeveless shirt exposing those sculpted arms, beautiful eyes dangerously focused, hair mussed and wild. Damn. You wiggled your fingers at him in a wave, smile coming through properly at the look of relief on his face.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he groaned, getting in the passenger seat of your car.

“I know,” you mused, “What went wrong?”

Matthew huffed out a laugh, running a hand over his messy hair as you pulled out of your driveway. “You know how mom always throws the big neighbourhood get-together when me, Brady and Taryn are all home for the summer?”

You nodded, knowing it well. “Yeah it’s this weekend, right?”

“Right! Well, I said that I would cook for the family tonight, give her a night off before the big party,”

“She does deserve the rest,” you nodded.

God knows that poor woman put up with enough thanks to all those big personalities.

“Exactly! She deserves it. I got the recipes for her favourite foods, and I planned it all out properly because I want to make it special for her, but I literally forgot the key ingredient for the spices in the main dish and it won’t be the same without it,” he grumbled.

“That’s really sweet of you, Matty. You’re a good son,” you said softly.

“I try,” he mumbled, blushing lightly at your compliment, “But if I don’t get it right then Brady and Taryn will make fun of me for ages,”

“I don’t know how your mom puts up with all of you, really,” you snorted.

Matthew blushed a little more, but laughed. “Yeah, I know we’re a bit much. You love me anyway, right?”

“Don’t push your luck, Tkachuk,” you said dryly.

When Matthew pouted, you just laughed, shaking your head. Having grown up next door to the Tkachuk family had always been a loud intense ride, but your friendship with Matthew, especially now that he’d settled more into himself, was something you cherished. And it was times like this, when he went out of his way to make his mom happy, that reminded you of just how sweet he was. You may only really see him in the summer now, your lives having taken you in different directions, but you missed him like this.

“You know she’ll love it, whatever you make, because you made it, right?” you pointed out.

Matthew smiled, a little shyly, but shrugged. “I’d hope so…but I still want to do it well,”

“There’s the Tkachuk fighting spirit talking,” you laughed, pulling into the parking lot of the grocery store.

Matthew laughed as well, a bit more of his usual sparkle coming into his eyes as you parked the car.

“I’ll be really quick, I promise,” he grinned, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Yeah no worries, take as long as you need. Just remember that you owe me, Matty,” you grinned back.

You saw a flash of fire in Matthew’s eyes, making those butterflies flare up again, but you managed to keep your face calm and collected.

“Oh I haven’t forgotten, trust me,” he murmured.

He winked as he walked towards the store, that little smirk on his face that you loved, leaving you a little stunned before you shook your head with a laugh. Looks like you had a lot of thinking to do before the big party this weekend.

[wincore]

wasted nights | liu yangyang

pairing: yangyang x reader

words: 5.5k

summary: firstly, you don’t think you should have survived this long. secondly, this might be the zombie apocalypse but your survival doesn’t feel as threatened by zombies as it does by liu yangyang. thirdly, you’ve chosen the worst time to develop a crush.

genre: zombie apocalypse!au, fluff, humour(?)

warnings: mention of injuries & blood, violence (against zombies), dumbassery, do not attempt during an actual zombie apocalypse

song rec(s): wasted nights - one ok rock 

a/n: october birthdays get halloween specials~ although this one is just full of unnecessary appearances by cats. also campfires because october campfires hit different. (i’m definitely saying this because i was born in october) also not me writing this as a joke and reaching 5.5k words </3

It’s two hours till sundown. 

What would you be doing on a day within the ordinary? Likely getting back from after school activities, chatting with a friend or feeding the stray kittens by the school building, or maybe pretending Liu Yangyang doesn’t exist—the possibilities were endless. Now there’s only one.

“Yangyang,” you call, more worried than not.

On a day out of the ordinary, you wish you hadn’t prayed for your exam to get cancelled the day all of this broke out. You wouldn’t be scavenging like some sort of rodent and you wouldn’t be standing at the gates of an abandoned shrine, though now is undoubtedly a better time to pray. It’s not the best of situations (especially not with a certain little rascal attached to your side). 

And understatements are definitely your thing now.

“Yangyang,” you call a little louder this time, eyes shifting around the shrine area. 

Should you step in? He asked you to wait, the stone steps now looking a little glum without him skipping over them. The only signs of life you’ve seen around has been a family of raccoons looking rather smug and a single spotted dove preening itself atop a branch. The lack of visibility into the forest surrounding the shrine bothers you, like something could jump out any minute and you suck your teeth, growing annoyed. Where is that boy?

You tap your foot against the ground soundlessly. What if a zombie were to pop out? They might be slow but the sight of them is still gross enough to paralyze you. Yangyang has his baseball bat with him, which leaves you defenseless in terms of weapons. Still, it’s not like the bat would have done you any good. You are, in the truest sense of the word, average at any sort of combat and freezing at the limbs comes to you more naturally. Zombies are not fun; whatever nonsense Yangyang has been trying to explain to you for weeks is optional, as is every other suggestion that comes from his mouth. It’s quiet and quiet, creepy shrines have never been your favourite place in the city.

You hear a low growl behind you, stiffening at the sound. Best case scenario, it’s a big rat. You’d rather not think of the worst case. Eventually, you gather some courage and turn slowly only to jump back with a short scream. 

Yangyang takes the old festival mask off to reveal a giant grin on his face, urging you to knock it right off. The anger that follows is natural and he should be used to it by now. Yangyang continues smiling, as if he didn’t just pull your soul right out of your body, and when he opens his mouth to say something, you’re quick to land a swift punch to his gut. He lets out a pained cry, dropping to the ground in a squat.

“Don’t do that,” you seethe. “Why can’t you greet me normally?”

“I’m okay!” He signals a thumbs up while the other hand clutches his stomach. 

“I didn’t ask.”

He moves his hand to place it over his chest. “Ow. Oh, and to answer your question, it’s because you don’t want to do my special handshake with me.”

“Hm. Get up. You said there were supplies here. What did you find?”

He pouts, finally getting up. “I can’t believe you’re just using me for supplies.”

You cross your arms. “Just get up already.”

Yangyang springs up despite the (admittedly) strong blow to his stomach and presents to you the plastic bag he’d been holding. In any other circumstances, it would spark some disapproval on your behalf but it turns out, those things do outlive most everything. For a moment, the ridiculous image of pulling a plastic bag over a zombie’s head crosses your mind. 

Yangyang finally responds, taking out whatever items he recovered. Not everything is useful however; he’s simply taken to collecting knick-knacks. 

“I found toothbrushes! Maybe your breath will stop stinking—”

You raise your clenched fist as a threat.

“—I was kidding. Obviously. You have lovely breath.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to contain your exasperation. 

“Also, I found clean water so I filled up some bottles and yeah, I couldn’t find much else but oh! There was this huge cat and I mean huge like a big chonk kinda guy, you know? And I’m sure he was, like, trying to tell me something, like, he kept hissing when I went near him but…”

You wonder if Yangyang ever gets tired from speaking so fast, his words fading out of your comprehension. You shake your head, clearing your throat.

“Can we leave now?”

Yangyang raises an eyebrow, almost smirking as the gears in his head turn.

“You’re not… superstitious, are you?” he asks. “I heard there’s a lot of reported sightings of ghosts here.”

“No,” you blurt, quick to deny. Yangyang might have seen you crying after getting lost in the dark, almost fainting after encountering a zombie for the first time or even in deep sorrow after you lost your friend—but there’s still part of your dignity to protect before you can admit your fear of ghosts. There’s just something about this abandoned shrine; there are no visitors apart from the caretaker and if loneliness is responsible for anything, it’s making lonely things seem a whole lot scarier. You’d rather leave before the sun sets.

Yangyang laughs. “Who do you think would win in a fight? Zombies or ghosts?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s so stupid. Obviously ghosts.”

“No. Okay, maybe. I just think…”

There he goes again. 

You wonder if he was always this way—when you passed him by in the hallways, when he shot you a polite smile at club meetings or when you saw him being loud with his friends blocking part of the sidewalk. You’re sure he couldn’t have been entirely sane.

“Oh my god.”

Yangyang’s voice jerks you back to the present. You follow his line of sight to a cardboard box beneath a particularly dense shrub; it's a large one—quite possibly a carton of some commercial product which doesn’t matter anymore. However, it’s not the details of the box itself so much as it is the contents that grab your attention. 

You can almost see the sparkle in Yangyang’s eyes as he views the cats huddled together inside the box. They don’t seem to mind each other within their personal space—you count four of them, tightly packed and eyes closed in a late afternoon nap. How the box hasn’t ripped apart yet is quite a mystery, and what’s more troubling is how at ease they seem to be with the entire human race in disarray.

You grab Yangyang by the collar before he can make his way to them.

“Don’t harass them,” you say, massaging your temples. “Jesus, it’s like they’re glued to each other. Do they have to be in the same box?”

“It might just be the last cardboard box left on earth.” Yangyang shrugs.

The cats mind their own business, grooming their fur or closing their eyes in an odd sort of bliss. You wonder what it would be like to be so unbothered by all the chaos. It reminds you of someone.

“Come on,” you urge, thinking back to older times. “Don’t think I forgot how much you used to bother old Louis back then.”

Louis was the university cat, fed with so much love that he eventually started avoiding people like the plague. You wonder how he’s holding up for a brief moment.

“Don’t think I forgot how you were back then too.”

“What do you mean?” you snap, glaring at him.

“You were already a zombie,” he says before engaging in a cheap mimicry of you, drooping his eyelids and taking slow steps muttering, “I… must… maintain… gpa… grr.”

You almost take off your shoe to throw it at him before deciding it’s not worth your time. Ah, if only you had done that during club meetups, perhaps you’d have felt better about him joining. Everyone treated him so differently, and you hate to admit you now understand why. 

Everyone loves a good troublemaker.

And there happens to be another thing special about your sole competitor for the debate club’s president position. Apart from his strange antics (charms, he says), even this virus—this fuckall literal killer virus can’t infect him. He’s immune—an occurrence with a possibility lower than you finding him attractive. (There, you said it.)

You look at Yangyang still talking about Louis and a small smile crosses your face. You’d feed your right arm to a zombie before you admitted it but it’s nice having him around. You furrow your brows at the sudden familiar bubbling in your chest and shove it away in a flash before your conscious decides to tell you what it is. 

Your heart jumps to your throat when you make eye contact with Yangyang, turning away in a rather awkward manner. Oh, the end of the world does awful things to you.

“Are you listening?” Yangyang raises an eyebrow. “Oh my god, you weren’t listening at all.”

You roll your eyes. “I was distracted.”

“By me?” he offers in a sing-song voice, prompting a smack from you. It’s easier to pretend this way.

Yangyang massages his shoulder with a huff. “Why are you hitting me so much today? I’ve counted like eight and the day’s only just over.”

“Sorry,” you mumble before clearing your throat. “I mean, you’ve also said something annoying, like, more than eight times today.”

“I’m not annoying.”

There’s a pause.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.”

The sun starts to lay in rest by the time you reach the city. Compared to the green, red and yellow of the yet standing shrine, this place is in dull monochrome with the occasional coloured signs that flicker to life. You force yourself to think but have a hard time remembering if it was always this way. Was it any different with the rushing cars or apathetic crowds? You can’t tell. You were part of them, after all. 

“Hey, how about a bottle flip challenge but with traffic cones?” Yangyang thinks aloud, walking backwards as you pass by a particularly well-lit alley. 

You roll your eyes in response. Is it the lack of people making him that way? Your unflustered companion looks at home among neon lights, all of them seeming to point towards him as an answer to a question you haven’t quite figured out yet. 

You glance at the alley just a second longer. The electric lanterns still glow red, and although dim, there are many. The shops almost look like you could enter and be greeted with a crowd of university kids or a group of office workers drinking away in celebration of the weekend. You sigh. It’s most certainly deserted inside; there’s no doubt. At the most, the tables are still arranged neatly and the meat grills aren’t completely rusted. You wonder if it’s a Friday.

There was never much grass in the city but whatever growth there was has withered into a mustard yellow or a lamenting grey. An empty city is hardly appealing, but you can’t deny the ill-favored things you’ve done the past few months in the absence of people—a part of you questioning whether breaking into supermarkets is still against the law when no one’s around to keep it. You smile at the memory of Yangyang pushing you around in a shopping cart, though you’d gotten drunk off the (stolen) liquor prior. The neon lights hanging as a banner over sketchy shops sometimes spark alive before dying down over and over again, and to be fair, you don’t think they ever shined too bright. Ironically, they’re the liveliest thing about the city now. 

The sky’s soaked in ink at a time you assume to be around seven in the evening. You walk closer to Yangyang without realizing; it’s not often you’ve been out this late the past few months.

“Hey.” Yangyang snaps you out of your daze. “Be careful.”

The words are strange coming from him but you understand why. You look up ahead with caution and a shiver runs down your spine as you stare at the intersection, a lone, tattered figure droning aimlessly. It’s only one, you tell yourself. And they’re slow.

The memories of your previous encounters send warnings over your skin, shivers begging you to run as fast as you can. You would if it weren’t for Yangyang’s grip on your hand, tugging you forward gently and though it’s something he does every time, you wonder if he knows how you’re really feeling. His footsteps are soundless, with the same red sneakers he’s worn since the beginning of this but something tells you it’s not the shoes that give him a cat’s footfall. The purple lights flicker on and off over the shop on the opposite street, the suddenness of it making you latch onto Yangyang for a short-lived moment. You’re quick to let go, throat too dry to make any sound. 

You curve around what would be a straight path, careful not to be in the creature’s line of sight when you cross. The streets seem wider when they’re so empty, and somehow it feels more unlawful this way. Yangyang signals to you to stay closer, and you follow before bumping into his back when he stops abruptly. There’s absolutely no sound, the feeling in your gut much worse than at the shrine.

“Something’s wrong,” Yangyang whispers.

A strangled shriek erupts from your mouth when something launches itself onto the two of you, making you land on your butt. You would’ve placed your hands over your eyes, but you’ve learned how to be less of a coward these past few days. 

A shaky breath leaves you. A cat. It was a stray cat. The little asshole looks at you with almost twinkling eyes, tail swishing from side to side before deciding you’re not worth its time. Your shoulders sag, a moment of relief despite your stiff muscles.

“Uh, (name)?”

You look up only for your stomach to fill with dread. The zombie from before is staring directly at the two of you, the same vacant look in its eyes that has haunted you for the entirety of the apocalypse.

“It’s okay, he’s too slow,” Yangyang reminds you, voice barely a whisper as he helps you stand.

“We can just take the other street—it’s a little longer but it’s mostly safe and there’s no way he can—”

Yangyang is interrupted by a sickening growl from behind you and you jump back. There’s another one. And another. You count four more before holding back a swear. Yangyang grabs you by the shoulder and the two of you take a step back, onto the sidewalk. There’s a shop behind you; you read a smeared sign above the plastic door curtains indicating a dumpling place. Even if you were to hide in there, there’s no guarantee you’d be safe. 

But if you’ve learned anything in these months, it’s that anything is always better than nothing.

The night has settled in completely, you realize. You’re about to tug Yangyang to the inside as you turn around, only to freeze up in your spot. A pale woman emerges from the store, her makeup still fresh but you know that look, the look in her eyes. How cruel.

“Please,” she mumbles, taking a step towards you and you think you might just cry. It’s not long before she turns, you think with dread.

You stumble back to Yangyang when she emits a blood curdling screech, lunging at you and to either your alarm or worse, relief, Yangyang pushes you back. You watch with wide eyes as the woman sinks her teeth into his arm, nausea growing at the sight of blood. He moves fast though, his arm swinging the baseball bat to meet the woman in the head, hard enough to knock her out. In these few moments, one of the zombies is close enough to reach an arm out towards you and you swear you can hear the horrid sound of his bones cracking when you step back. The longer you remain in this state, the slower you are. You suppose you should take comfort in these words but when you look at it, you still see a man.

Hollow. They’re all hollow. 

You take a deep breath.

Just as the thought crosses your head, you see Yangyang swing his bat again, meeting the zombie on the head and much to your wide-eyed horror, the head flies off into the dumpling shop and the body reacts with just about as much confusion as you do. It wildly waves about its hands in the now vacant spot before crumpling onto the road with a quiet realization.

Yangyang makes a face, pressing his knuckle to his mouth to prevent himself from what you presume is gagging. However, when you look closely, he seems to be holding back a laugh instead and very painfully so. You know he has a habit of laughing at the most inappropriate times but this, it really takes the cake.

“Home run?” he suggests, turning to you with a sheepish half-grin. There’s no hint of malice in his voice and you think that it’s probably not that he enjoys swinging his baseball bat at zombies. 

“You’re disgusting,” you reply, shaking your head.

“Maybe I should leave you here then.” 

You can’t believe he has the gall to be cheeky with blood running down his arm and four of the undead drooling at the sight of you two. 

“Do you think we can find ingredients that aren’t stale here? I miss having dumplings.”

“Yangyang.”

“Okay, okay.”

The other ones are still far enough and the two of you take this chance to run off towards the street Yangyang mentioned earlier and safely out of view. You notice him panting heavier than before, and your eyes scan over his arm in worry. The bite is ugly, red with oozing blood, and you hold back the urge to ask him if he’s anaemic. 

Yangyang follows your eyes before an ‘ah’ leaves his lips. He spins his head to the right, trying to catch a glimpse of the wound in the same manner a dog chases after its own tail. He puts the bat down to try and twist his arm to see the injury but you stop him, clicking your tongue at his silly behaviour.

“You’re not twelve, Yangyang,” you scold. “Let’s get back to the hotel first.”

He shrugs, and you think some provoking words are ready to leave his mouth when he simply picks up his bat and walks off. You blink before quickening your steps to catch up with him. The blood dripping down his forearm makes you feel a little unwell but you know better than to touch infections.

It takes around fifteen minutes longer than usual to reach the hotel—Yangyang was right. It is safer here, with no zombies lurking around the corners. He must have been out late when he was scouting, you think with distaste.

You reach the now-rusting gates of your haven without trouble and the moment you reach, Yangyang falls to his knees, heaving a breath he seems to have been holding. You rush to him, eyes frantic when you reach your hand out to him, and he flinches, moving away from you.

“Don’t,” he mutters before getting up. “You turning into a real zombie would be my personal nightmare.”

It’s not enough to curb your worry but you follow him nonetheless, the stupid, wavering grin on his face making you unable to decipher what he’s really feeling. 

The familiar smell of honeysuckle washes into you as you pass by the entrance, locking the door behind you as Yangyang falls onto one of the chairs in the lobby. Kunhang happened to be passing by, a muffled swear leaving him when he sees the blood on Yangyang’s arm.

“You didn’t touch him, did you?” he asks, pulling on his gloves to further see the wound. A former med student is the best you have here, and somehow, you’ve never seen him complain about having to take care of someone as bothersome as Yangyang. 

You shake your head in reply to Kunhang and watch as he runs from shelf to shelf to procure more bandages than you’ve ever seen in your life. You’ve been seeing an awful lot lately. 

“We’re going to run out of bandages in a week if he keeps this up,” Kunhang says with a frown, moving so fast you can barely see his hands. “He’ll be okay, I guess. The virus just makes him dizzy.”

He’s probably thinking the same thing you are. Something serious happening to Yangyang is a little bit of a miracle. Maybe he’ll finally be set right in the head. 

Even so, you know Kunhang is worried despite his quick response, his frown lines deepening once he’s done wrapping up. He sighs before waltzing off to discard his gloves.

It’s not that you aren’t impressed by Kunhang; you’ve just seen him do that too many times to count. And of course, it’s mostly Yangyang on the receiving end. They might be good friends but this also happens to be the only time they're serious together. Moreover, Kunhang seems to beat Yangyang in the talking-for-twelve-hours-straight department. You have to admit though, being in charge of first aid for the few people stuck in this hotel is not an easy business. 

You take a seat opposite to Yangyang, dozing off in his chair and wonder if you should wipe the drool off his chin. Disgusting, you think to yourself, but another part of you dares to offer the word cute. 

The best thing about barricading yourself in a hotel during the apocalypse is not having to worry about beds. There’s at least five hundred rooms in this skyrise, more than enough for, what, sixteen people? The place is so big that you hardly run into the others. The only rule around here is regarding the pantry—to write down who’s taken what on the notepad stuck to one corner. Despite what movies show, people are far more helpful to each other in times of need, more so than usual even. You relax into the chair, the velvet cushion feeling comfortable against your back. 

There’s a nice communal feeling in this place. 

You frown. It’s not like you can stay here forever. 

At the very least, you can pretend each sundown and sunrise is ordinary here. You close your eyes, and slowly, thoughts of why you’re trying so hard to remember life before this drift away.

//

Yangyang wakes up before you do, grinning like crazy as he shrugs you awake. You stare at him through groggy eyes, untangling your limbs from yourself. The cold seeps into you and you shiver, hugging yourself.

“We found the keys to the lounge,” he rushes, albeit in a gentle voice. “Guess what?”

“Unh?”

“There’s a campfire spot over there! The others already started but I thought I should wake you up.”

It’s just like him to be excited about something like that. You get up nevertheless, Yangyang pulling you through the stairs and onto the only elevator that seems to work around here. There’s quite a few things about this hotel left to be figured out. You’re going to have to start worrying anyway when the power from the generator runs out.

Kunhang and an older man, Mr Kang, are the only ones there once you reach. You had expected it but the lounge is gigantic and a small part of it provides the artificial campfire area. There are paintings of wild animals and trees for children, you assume, on the walls only cut off by a large vent on the ceiling. The fire burns bright over the large circle of soil and firewood, whose authenticity is debatable. You sigh at the warmth, having grown tired of the autumn weather’s mood swings.

Kunhang greets the two of you with a grin before delicately poking Mr Kang to at least acknowledge your presence. It’s funny, the lot of you.

The place is a little small, considering there’s a literal fire in the middle of the room. You almost sit on Yangyang because he shifts too suddenly at Mr Kang’s disapproval of proximity, a small yelp leaving you whereas Yangyang, for the first time, looks like he’d rather die. He mutters an apology, and two of you manage to sit a good two feet apart, sudden awkwardness rising in the air—all of it unnoticed by Mr Kang. You heard he was a banker but if Kunhang and Yangyang had a polar opposite, it would most certainly be him. You can’t even remember the man’s voice.

You think you should say something but Kunhang’s laughter breaks the silence. There’s an unspoken exchange between him and Yangyang, piquing your curiosity though you aren’t sure what you should be asking. You just assume it’s one of their stupid inside jokes.

“I left your gift on your table. You can add it to your dumb shoe collection,” Kunhang tells Yangyang, smiling before standing up to stretch. “I’m going to bed. Mr Kang, won’t you accompany me?”

Mr Kang gets up begrudgingly and you’re about to ask them to stay longer when Kunhang turns to you enthusiastically. “Good night, (name). Don’t have too much fun. Although, I suppose there’s no better time to have too much fun either.”

You watch with furrowed brows as the two disappear into the doorway and down the stairs. You spend a couple of moments in silence before clearing your throat. When it goes unnoticed, you turn to Yangyang despite the warmth on your face. 

“It’s not dumb,” he mutters to himself, a little zoned out.

You stare at him for a few moments and the familiar feeling rises in your throat, now with a little voice to accompany it. 

Cute.

You cough, distracting yourself with any and all thoughts you would rather have, even of the zombies. Now isn’t the time—or is it the perfect time? You shake your head, calming yourself.

“Does it… hurt?” You ask, eyeing Yangyang’s arm.

He looks up as if broken from a daze, the campfire lights still dazzling in his eyes. You hold back a laugh. He really is a child; if he’s so easily mesmerized by fires, that is.

“Probably not any worse than the lady I whack-a-mole’d. Now that must’ve hurt.” Yangyang puffs his cheek before looking straight at you.

You stare back. It’s not the weirdest thing he’s said.

“What? I feel bad beating the crap out of zombies sometimes,” he says, scratching the back of his head. 

You hum in response. The thought of Yangyang developing a conscience is almost as bad as having to think about zombies. Though, you’ll have to admit, it does give you a strange relief. Zombies can’t really feel pain—they are, after all, numb in every possible sense—but some part of you wonders if it’s alright like this. Morals and survival aren’t meant to overlap. 

You feel the need to distract yourself with something.

“Hey,” you call, moving closer to Yangyang such that your shoulders almost touch. Before you know it, you brush the hair from his face, trying to style the mess into something more neat—a thing you’ve been wanting to do since the first time you saw him. Every time you’d see the messy mop of hair at an official event of the debate club, you’d have this strong urge and an almost putrid form of annoyance. You still don’t know how he managed to get in.

“You don’t look terrible with parted hair,” you muse. “You could’ve looked more decent at the debates.”

You look down from his hair to see Yangyang frozen, eyes wide as if a deer in the headlights.

“Are- Are you not breathing?” you ask.

Yangyang sucks in a large chunk of air, fast enough to choke on it and break into a coughing fit as he turns away from you. You reach out to pat his back but he waves his hand at you, indicating he’s fine before he can turn to you.

You look at him with no particular emotion, the night breeze having worked its way to you.

“What was that about a gift? Are you and Kunhang getting things for each other without telling me?” you say, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

There's a short pause, filled with the crackling of fire.

“It’s my birthday,” Yangyang says with a small smile as the campfire lights dance across his cheeks.

And yet, the words come out sad as if he’d been waiting for an occasion to tell you. You look at him, eyes widening ever so slightly accompanied by the loss of words and take a sharp breath.

“I’m not going to ask for a gift,” Yangyang teases. “Don’t look so worried.”

You open your mouth and close it again, unable to explain the gentle wash of sadness overcome you when you see just a boy. For all the talking he does, he never asks for much. 

“I mean, I- I liked spending the day with you. Why do you look so sad? Did I say something? Again?”

You look over his features, from his brow bone to his wide eyes to his lips and the conclusion arrives as gently as the end of the world. What’s the worst that could happen?

You quickly pull him into a hug, still careful of his injury, and a vaguely embarrassing sound escapes Yangyang, something akin to a sheep’s call. He clears his throat which turns into coughing before he can wrap his arms around you, his breathing soft against your shoulder. 

“I’m- I’m alive, you know? I don’t think I’m dying any time soon. I- I can’t even get infected! You know that.”

“That’s not why I’m- I…” You pull back, steeling your eyes so you don’t feel the warmth of embarrassment. 

Just like you prepare for debates, you think to yourself. Maybe Yangyang was right about you being a zombie—the way you follow the same drudging formula.

“I like you,” you say, your words more of a strained whisper but they’re out before you know it. You can fake confidence, you tell yourself. It’s horrible timing and spending your (potentially) last days with someone who rejected you is just another way to shoot yourself in the foot.

But part of you has been wanting to do this for so long that you almost don’t mind.

Yangyang sucks in a breath, pressing his knuckles to his mouth as he straightens.

“That was- Wow. Okay. I- Uh. Wow.”

You let the heat grow stronger in your cheeks, racking your head for an explanation or even a lie. Maybe you can say it was a mistake. 

“I- I meant…” You lose track of your words. You can’t lie.

“I’ve never been confessed to,” he blurts, and if you squint, you swear you can see him blushing.

“Huh?”

Yangyang coughs again, followed by the same embarrassing sound. “That was- That was the first time.”

The silence between you is accompanied by the crackling of fire and the soft path-making of wind. You’re at a loss for words, something that you should be used to by now—they clearly belong to someone else.

“Oh my god, that was so stupid,” he says, pulling a horrified face as he frantically waves his hands about. “I meant to say I like you too but I- I guess I forgot to say it out loud. Ah, crap- I sound even stupider now, don’t I?”

Your lips twitch, trying to contain your smile but you’re seized with uncontrollable laughter anyway. The mortified expression on Yangyang’s face makes you burst into another fit of giggles before you can somewhat compose yourself.

“I think that’s the longest you’ve been quiet for,” you say in between recurring laughter. “Did anyone ever tell you being able to talk fast doesn’t get you ahead in debate clubs?”

Yangyang frowns.

“Oh, I just joined because I thought it’d get on your nerves,” he says, not a hint of jest in his voice.

You straighten away from him, the smile dropping from your face.

“You can’t be serious.”

He grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and offering no explanation. You huff in exasperation, getting up abruptly to avoid another oncoming headache. It’s a little difficult, considering you have the human version of it right beside you.

“Wait- Where are you going?” Yangyang scrambles up to his feet. “It’s my birthday, you know?”

You turn around and put your hands on your hips, a small smile on your face at the sight of him. “It’s midnight already.”

“Oh. How was I supposed to know?”

You laugh, shaking your head. Maybe the little rascal is special.

“Hey,” Yangyang calls. “You know, since this is the end of the world and all…”

You stare at him, heartbeat erratic at the lack of distance and despite the fading of teenage fantasies. Yangyang shifts nervously, glancing here and there while simultaneously trying to keep eye contact with you, an action which makes you hold back a chuckle. There’s a particular twinkle in his eyes but he can’t seem to be able to look at you straight.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, finally.

And what a daring end to the world it is.

[before-the-black-pearl]

I made those modern Jack and Fitzy headcanons over a year and a half ago. I started writing a modern!AU fic since then so I developed the headcanons more and I wanted to share some of them. Keep in mind this may be a little different than what I present in the actual fic. I’m making some shit up on the spot.

So picture this: The young Jack Sparrow books taking place today and all the characters are in high school in Tampa, Florida, and the school is called...

Barnacle High School

Jack the “I was at the door when the bell rang” Sparrow:

He’s one of The Boyz🥶🥵😎 But like the stupid kind who thinks they’re better than everyone else.

He’s a troublemaker and creates a lot of mischief around campus.

Mischief includes but not limited to: pulling the fire alarm multiple times, drilling holes between the boys and girls gym locker rooms, defaced a bunch of textbooks with The Boyz drawing dicks on every single page, one time he snuck into the office and played pr0n on the schoolwide intercom speaker, a time he gave everyone “shits and giggles” (laxative and weed) brownies at a school dance and caused everyone to shit and puke all over the gym floor and it made the news,..... How tf isn’t he expelled?

Unsurprisingly he gets in fights. The fights are half of the time started by other students, but gets in trouble anyway.

Constantly interrupts the teachers to the point where they write him up or kick him out.

Sometimes fucks with the quiet kids like “Hey, mate, do you know what we’re doing?” “Can you like teach it to me?” “You can do it for me, right?” “Why don’t you ever talk, mate?”

He’s actually pretty smart but the teachers don’t like him and home sucks so he gave up.

Probably has ADHD.

Wears layers, like leather, denim, flannels, t-shirts, hoodies, jeans of various “tightness”, studded belts, many pairs of combat boots or knockoff timbs. Half his shit is from Goodwill.

Undercuts for dayyyzzzz. Think Coming Storm cut but the bottom is shaved off.

Still wears his nasty ass bandana even though the teachers always tells him he can’t wear it in class.

His makeup literally always slaps.

He likes to collect random things and sometimes puts them on his clothes or his backpack or in his locker.

Obsessed with dead things (furs, pelts, bones, stuffed animals, etc)

Has a fascination with the sea and likes the nautical aesthetic.

Bonus: Yeah he totally vapes.

Arabella the “Shut up and let me work” Smith:

She’s the “good kid” and sometimes the “quiet kid.” Jack definitely fucks with her in class sometimes until she pops off and they both get written up.

She’s an honors student and exceeds well in her classes.

She’d rather blend in with the crowd and not many students really notice her. She keeps herself contained in a small group of friends.

If she’s not with her friends, she’s probably in the library.

She’s really into Art and History.

Kind of a conspiracy nut and likes reading into urban legends and stuff.

Infodumps about her interests to Jack and he gets hella annoyed.

Jack sometimes follows her around and she gets hella annoyed but she gets sad when he’s not around.

Mediates between Jack and Fitz.

Jack and Fitzy fight over her. Jean has shown a little interest in her too.

She ate the “giggles” from Jack’s brownies. She got so fucked up she had a panic attack and left the dance really early before all the chaos began in the gym.

Kinda looks like she hasn’t really left 2015...like basic white girl with knit sweaters and cardigans, t-shirts and tanks, leggings, boots or sandals, etc. Sometimes also wears hoodies and jeans.

Headbands and beanies and cottagecore-like bandanas.

Yeah her makeup slaps too.

She works for her father after school at the Tortuga Tavern, formerly named Faithful Bride before it was forced to change to something more “PC.”

Fitzwilliam the “My uncle is the principal” Dalton (the third):

Basic snobby rich kid.

President of every “snobby kid club”; the Chess Club, the Key Club, the Student Council, and Yearbook.

Also an athlete and is in the school’s track team and soccer team.

Is in a clique with his equally snobby friends.

Yeah but he’s like hella proper.

He’s well educated and knows several different languages.

Hella ignorant about certain shit tho.

Big fuckin FLEXER with his expensive name-brand clothing and tech.

Lies about being friends with celebrities and online influencers and shit.

Ate one of the “shits” brownies....Just leaving that to the imagination until I make a one-shot.

Drippin’ Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Michael Kors, Coach, etc... Literally like full fucking tracksuits, knit sweater over button-up combo, fancy coats, name-brand t-shirts, jeans over hundreds to thousands of $$$, shoes costing almost as much as rent.

The pocketwatch from the books is a fancy golden $30,000 Rolex wristwatch.

Jack keeps taking his watch.

Wears his hair up in a manbun like it’s still 2015 and Jack keeps teasing him about it.

Yeah got like a brand new iPhone and and iPad and a really expensive laptop and an iWatch even though I already got a regular watch on my other wrist.

Jean the “I swear to god she’s like my sister” Magliore:

Y’all know it, he’s in the Anime Club.

Jean and Tumen are best friends, and in my story, foster brothers.

Likes video games and always has his Nintendo Switch with him.

Internet memelord and low key has “band kid” energy.

Always be sending Tumen or the “Barnacle Crew” group chat memes.

Being from New Orleans is a personality trait and is very enthused with his Creole roots and loves creole dishes.

He runs a foodie Instagram account with a large following. Self proclaimed foodfluencer.

Sometimes sells candy and chips at school. Gets in trouble for it.

Yeah he ate multiple brownies at the dance....

Jean has a cat Constance, named after his deceased sister, he brings to school hidden in his backpack.

Constance will literally eat just about everything, mimics human noises, and her expressions are very human-like according to Jean. Her traits are so much like his sister, Jean believes she is his sister born as a cat in a new life.

He made Constance her own Instagram account.

Jack HATES Constance. Constance LOVES Jack.

Hoodies, jeans, headphones, beanies.

His hair is the same but a bit shorter.

“Suspiciously quiet kid” Tumen:

The quiet kid sitting in the back of the class and drawing while listening to music.

He is also in the Anime Club with Jean.

Since Jean is into video games, Tumen is a weeb.

Jean is the only person he really hangs out with at school.

Tumen doesn’t have a phone in my fanfic but for the purpose of this headcanon and the group chat, he does have one.

He’s more of a “lurker” in the GC.

Jean’s #1 meme reactor.

He watches anime crack videos.

Tumen is the most “immature” than the others since he’s the youngest.

The only one who didn’t eat the brownies. Got interviewed on the news.

He takes pride in his Mayan heritage.

Has a random interest in geography and wants a career as a cartographer.

Anime t-shirts and hoodies galore.

Always has his hood up in class.

Teachers always telling him to put his hood down.

Tim “the newbie” Hawk:

He eventually transfers to Barnacle High.

I don’t have a full headcanon written for him yet.

Principal Lawrence Norrington:

Principal of Barnacle High.

Fitzwilliam’s uncle.

HATES Jack Sparrow.... Again how tf is Jack not expelled?

Brings his kid James to work sometimes even though the kid should be at school himself.

Jack sitting in the principal’s office in trouble again and James keeps bugging him. “Do you play Fortnite?” “No. Beat it, kid.”

Tia Dalma:

The school nurse.

Jack is buddies with her and he goes to her and pretends to be sick when he wants to ditch class.

Has crab parts in jars in the cabinets. No one questions it.

Joshamee Gibbs:

The janitor.

He’s in the Navy but he’s on off-duty employment.

Jack is buddies with him too.

He writes Jack fake doctors notes or signs permission slips or covers for Jack when he’s ditching, in exchange for booze Jack has at home.

He had to clean up the gym after the brownies incident ☹️

I don’t know how to write Davy Jones into this.

For the sake of this headcanon, it would be funny if Torrents was like a science teacher or something. Or if Madame Minuet was like an economics or math teacher. Or if Silverback is an English teacher. Or if Left-Foot Louis is a PE teacher and he’s all running in circles because he’s got two left feet lol.

Btw all these teachers HATE Jack 😂

[hopekiedokie]

Mall is Life | INTRO : She’s Broke, He’s Broke, We’re All Broke!

Summary: Your dad thinks it’s best for you to pay off the credit card that you just maxed out. Meaning, it’s time for you to finally get your very first job…at the mall. As a true blue spoiled daughter from a very rich family, what could possibly happen? Form a labour union and overthrow the oppressive government with 7 other underpaid and overworked guys??? Or maybe just form a bond with them and have the best time of your life?

Pairing: bts x reader

Genre: mall!au, lowkey a sitcom, fluff, eventual angst, and a whole lot of pure crack

Word count: 5.3k+

Notes: As I’m doing final rewrites for this, I overheard my co-teacher call one of our students a “crack” and I honestly have never related hard to a student. Anyways, transferring this from gdocs to tumblr took sooooo long. I literally aged 10 years. I didn’t think writing in this style would be such a pain so I really do hope you enjoy this! Keep safe and hang on while the world still seems like it’s on its way to destruction.

Posted on: 8th of Jan, 2021

— • masterlist | Character Guide | INTRO | next • —

Red

Red is all you see.

Your vision has been clouded by the colour red since the moment you stepped inside the mall.

Sale season is upon you and red tags are everywhere!

Buy one get one for a girlfriend sized “boyfriend t-shirt”, a free cookie if you get 7 drinks, 5% off on your next purchase from Kucci and… Gasp! 75% off for a light sabre handheld immersion blender???

Do you even cook or watch Star Trek or whatever it’s called? Heck no.

bUT IT’S MORE THAN HALF OFF and it looks cool so might as well get it.

Right?

You saunter off towards the sights of free or marked down signs to start making damages.

“Ehem.”

The sound of your best friend, Taehyung’s voice, freezes you in place and you feel like a kid caught in the act of stealing a candy.

Literally, you have both your hands in front of you with your mouth open and watering.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” His hands are placed on his hips, like a slightly inconvenienced Karen.

“Oh, uh...I was just, you know!? About to admire the general splendour!”

He was like, ya right sweetie.

“Shut up. This isn’t a Jane Austen book.”

Well, one can dream.

And lowkey, you were kinda expecting him to not get the reference.

…or even understand what you just said.

Damn.

You really need to give Taehyung some credit.

He is after all, your best friend and that is an achievement in itself.

“Focus, y/n. FOCUS. We’re here on a mission, don’t get distracted.”

Ugh, right.

Reality hit you again like a ton of bricks.

“And as if you can afford anything! Unless, you’re in for some service water.”

You scoff hard.

Though he isn’t lying.

See, the thing is, your family is rich.

Like rich 𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑯.

Like “rent a whole stadium for your dad’s morning run” rich

You, alone, though?

ʰᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵉ

“Sorry, you’re absolutely right. We’re here for one thing only and that is to find a job! We’re not leaving until we get one.”

And that’s what you did for the next two hours

Job hunting

You might be wondering, “If we're so rich then why are we looking for a job?”

Well kids, let me tell you a quick story.

Here’s what happened

A week ago, you had probably the most embarrassing yet most eye opening experience of your life.

You were shopping

(like duh do you have anything else to do?)

And your credit card got…

Wait for it…

…………….

🚫DECLINED🚫

◉.◉

Like, that can happen????

Next thing you know, you’re on the phone with your dad and he is MAD

You don’t even know why he is so pressed about it.

Okay, so you maxed out one of his seemingly endless supply of credit cards.

BIG DEAL.

It’s not like he lost a bunch of money.

Maybe to a normal person, yeah…

BUT to you guys?

Come on! He can earn that money back in like two days.

Besides, he always goes on saying that he'd willingly give everything for you, his one and only princess.

bUT NOoOOoo! He has to teach you to be rEsPoNsIbLe with money! You need to be a 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏.

"What? You think I'm a money making machine here?"

Well, tbh he kinda is.

"You think money grows on trees?"

Well, technically, money is paper so...ya it kinda does.

"I don't slave around just so you could plunge yourself in all of your whims!"

Uh, actually.

You kinda do though if we refer back to your whole willingly-give-everything-to-you shtick.

So that wasn't real, huh?

ＡＬＬ ＭＥＮ ＤＯ ＩＳ ＬＩＥ.

smh

Taehyung, on the other hand...

Well, his mother’s old but rich sugar daddy just recently passed away and unfortunately all his money and prized possessions were inherited by his one and only beloved son.

All they got was a couple of stupid jewelry, which did allow them to pay for a new (less glamorous) apartment, but still

Eh.

What a complete disappointment.

11+ years of being a sugar baby, all for nothing.

So now it’s back to the slums for the both of them.

Sad reacs for a fallen warrior.

I’m talking about Tae’s mother, not the sugar daddy...

THOUGh rip for him. Uh,,,,

He’ll be missed? I guess???

(1 like of this post = 1 respect for him)

DW about his mother though. She doesn’t seem quite fazed by it.

“This is why if you find a rich old bastard, make sure he doesn’t have any kids. That or have an affair with their kid. Oh well, on to the next one.” She told you and Tae during the funeral.

It’s been three months since.

She’s currently working at a hair salon and also,,,,

Taehyung thinks she’s seeing someone again cause she’s been using her designated “𝑠𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔” parfum.

WHICH you still don’t know if you should be impressed or be concerned about.

Nonetheless, you respect the hustle of this woman. ✊✊✊✊

Unfortunately, her efforts are still not enough to satisfy their expensive needs so that brings us to the present situation.

Actually, it couldn’t have been more perfect though!

You and your best friend coincidentally just happen to be in the same dilemma.

Kind of

Well, not really

Plus, it’s not really the most pleasant circumstance bUT STILL

The point is, you’re in this together and that’s enough for the both of you.

:’)

“Ugh, this totally blows.” Taehyung says as you both sit on one of the food court booths.

“Which one, us not getting any jobs yet or the fact that we’re hanging at the food court?”

“Get used to it, princess. Honestly, you'll find that the food here isn't as disgusting as you think they are." He says as he fishes for his phone in his man purse.

"Well, at this rate, I won't be able to get used to it since I sTILL haven't found a job. Why are the good stores so demanding? Like, an intensive classroom and in-store training only to have a possibility to get hired??? To think that I'm a loyal Louie Button customer!"

(A/n: This is actually a real procedure for Louis Vuitton, at least in my own experience. But I only applied and never went through with the training cause I figured that it just ain't for me.)

You continue ranting your little heart out about how you could sue these stores for unfair treatment.

Taehyung, though, has long tuned you out and has pointed his full attention to his phone.

This is turning out to be a lot more disastrous than what he anticipated.

So he needs to phone a friend in.

Orrrrr a couple.

He's getting desperate, okay??

The entire spring collection was practically screaming out to him when they entered Kucci.

He's a 𝓚𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓲 𝓫𝓸𝔂 through and through.

He hasn't missed a single Kucci season collection in years.

IN YEARS, PEOPLE!

He can feel his right eye twitch at this blasphemy.

"I'm telling you! These stores are absolutely ungrateful-hEY! Are you even listening??"

"No. I thought that was obvious the second I whipped my phone out."

( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)

Rude

He didn't even try to deny it.

"You know, I really don't need you to be mean to me right now."

"Sorry y/n but this…" He lifts his phone up, "is more important right now."

What could possibly be more important than your current problem??

If you don't leave today with any form of productivity, you just might have to sell the entirety of your closet.

And we all know that ain't happening.

"By 'that', you mean?"

His phone vibrates a couple of times, indicating that he just received a bunch of messages.

He instantly opens them, disregarding you once again.

I-

Seriously, thIS bOy!

"Hello???? I'm still here and we're still hideously unemployed!"

He looks up to you with a smile that seems a tad bit too eerie.

Okay, this is somewhat alarming ngl.

"I called in some reinforcements."

Reinforcements... Huh?

What's that supposed to mean?

You stare at him with scrunched brows and mouth slightly agape.

And as if on cue, a male voice rings from behind you.

"Tae! We're here!"

"Jimin! Seokjin hyung!"

Ohhhhhhh

*Looks at the camera*

Them.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

For everyone's information, Taehyung grew up a hair away from the poverty line.

He was in his preteen years when their family found success through his mother's sugar daddy.

He didn't grow up rich whICH there's NOthing wrong WiTh THAT.

A person's financial status does not define them.

Taehyung's friends, however, already have a collective definition in your head.

One word

༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ MESS™

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

A hot mess you are so not willing to become a part of.

Tae keeps them away from you because he knows that they are not the type of people you would associate yourself with.

Which is why you've never met any of them.

...Until today.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

Guess being besties with a broke Taehyung means it only makes sense that you finally meet them.

♫︎dUN dUn- ok that's enough of that.

"We got the Code 17 message. I can't believe I'll ever get that from you. This is history, man! We need to celebrate!" Someone says accompanied by what sounds like someone wiping a window.

You look at Taehyung with a very displeased look.

May god and every higher being out there give you strength.

He doesn't even look the slightest bit bothered by what might be one of the boldest crossovers to ever happen.

Also, "Code 17"??? Wth?

"What's wrong? You never ask to meet at the food court… And who's this with--oh." A different, softer voice talks this time.

"You guys remember my bestie, right? Y/n? Well, I think it's time you guys finally meet."

From behind you, Seokjin and Jimin share a slightly wary yet excited look.

Jimin, being the natural people lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to have another best friend.

From what he's heard from Taehyung, you two are slightly alike, being a total softie.

So don't be surprised if a montage of things like the two of you going on picnics at the mall garden or watching the premiere of the next Disney movie plays in his head.

Seokjin, on the other hand, being the woman lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to score big time.

He's heard a lot about you from Tae but the only thing that stuck (and pretty much the only thing that matters) is that you are HELLA rich.

$ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 $

So are we even surprised that what he imagines is him breezing through the luxury section of the mall, with his personal butlers in tow, and having everyone swoon at him?

“Y/n,” Taehyung gives you a pointed look as if telling you to be nice. “Meet Seokjin hyung and Jimin, two of my other best friends.”

Alright, you heard that these people work here at the mall.

So you’re gonna have to suck it up if it means being stuck with them for god knows how long.

You just hope they have some level of bearableness.

(Oh and some form of acceptable fashion taste too please, thank you very much!)

As much as you're not in the mood to smile, you still plaster on the sweetest one you can muster and turn around to face the two----

Oh

(o.O)

oh oh oh oh ho ho ho ho

Hello

hELLO indeed.

One of them has a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slim fit trousers, and a brown newsboy cap like a cherry on top.

He's also wearing a brown apron with a small name tag that says 𝓙𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷.

The other guy's more casual with his baby pink t-shirt, french tucked into his black ripped skinny jeans.

Personally, you wouldn’t really call them amazing outfits…

bUT SWEET BABY JESUS ARE THEY DOING THINGS.

GREAT THINGS

(Tbh maybe it’s their handsome faces that do it for you)

"Hi, I'm Jimin! It's very nice to finally meet you."

He extends his hand and you take it in a heartbeat because my god that smile.

Wooooooooooo

Now, that's what greets you into heaven.

"Tae says a lot of good things about you and I think- oof."

Cute pink shirt guy (rudely) shoves him to the side.

Jimin almost topples to the ground and it makes you want to stand and check up on him.

The poor cutie.

For some reason, you feel like Taehyung and pink shirt guy get along well.

"AND I'M Seokjin!"

This time, Seokjin swiftly takes your hand without any warning which leaves you feeling flustered.

“Umm… Nice to meet you..?” You manage to politely croak out.  

He gives your hand a kiss and then drops you a sultry wink.  

Thank god you're sitting right now.  

You'd be a lying fool to say that that didn't make your knees weak.  

But ngl, that’s a face that definitely greets you into hell.  

Like, no offense to his handsome face but you are sure there’s something completely devious going on underneath.  

No one can change your mind on that.  

"OKAY! Enough introductions, we’ll have plenty of time for that later... Where are the others??”  

“Hoseok hyung said that he's with Jungkook and they're on their way to get Namjoon hyung." Jimin says as he fixes his hat that slightly slid off.  

"Well, they better hurry!"  

Taehyung DEFINITELY did not have any reasons to cut your introductions off.  

He just did not like how you are practically drooling over Jimin and Seokjin.  

He’s nOT JEALOUS OR ANYTHING  

It’s just...  

It’s not like you’ve never been close to any hot guys before.  

Uh hello???  

HE’S HOT  

And you’re with him 24/7

Wait…  

Do you even think he’s hot???  

Okay now that’s a thought he never considered before.  

Damn bro  

Now Tae’s having an existential crisis…  

anD hE’s dEfiniTEly NOT jEALous!!!  

ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ  

"WE'RE HERE!"  

All four of you direct your heads to the sound of a new voice and you start to think that Taehyung might actually be playing a joke on you.  

Come on!  

THREE 👏  MORE 👏  HOT 👏 GUYS  👏

???  

This can't be real.  

This is literal heaven!  

Gasp!  

Are.  

You.  

DEAD?!  

Maybe you're right about Jimin being what greets you into heaven!

It all makes sense.  

“Dude, we came as soon as we could. We even pulled Namjoon out of his rabbit hole.” The handsome one wearing a sports jersey says. 

“This better be important. I didn’t even get to ask permission to take a break! I’m supposed to be stocking utensils right now.” The handsome one wearing an atrocious outfit of a bright blue shirt and a much brighter yellow pants chimes in.  

The handsome one wearing loose fitting jeans, a plaid button up and a black t-shirt underneath just stayed at the sidelines not saying anything.  

Out of all of them, you think he’s the most stylish one.  

Your eyes meet while you are assessing his outfit but he instantly looks away.  

A noticeable blush blooms on his cheeks and you almost swoon.  

Awww he’s extra cute.  

“Yeah, cause organising cutlery is more important than a friend in a literal crisis.” Taehyung says in a sarcastic tone.  

“So what are we doing here?”  

“What is this ‘crisis’ you are referring to?”  

“Yo, who is she?”  

Namjoon, Jin, and handsome jersey boy all talk at the same time.  

Ugh you need a massage.  

Being surrounded by these broke handsome men is making you lightheaded.  

“This is Y/n. You know, my other best friend.”

“Oh, your money buddy.” Handsome jersey boy butts in.   

Uh EXCUSE YOU, WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?  

You scoff hard and loud.  

Taehyung clears his throat and you thought he was going to make a comment defending you or something.  

Oh honey, you are wrong.  

Because for the nth time today, he just brushes you off.  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyways, Guys, meet Y/n. Y/n, this is Hoseok hyung, Namjoon hyung, and Jungkook.”  

You didn't think it'd be possible but for the first time ever, you so badly want to rip someone's hair out.  

And not just someone, it's Taehyung.  

Normally, a sassy, moody, rude boy Taehyung doesn’t affect you at all.  

But then again, his negative vibes were never really directed to you.  

And given the current circumstance, you’re also not in the best mood as well.  

So you aren't as inviting as you usually are when you shook hands with the three boys.  

Somehow, even their overflowing handsomeness did not do anything for you now.  

Your presence, however, did something to the three boys.  

AND I MEAN A LOT.  

Confused, attracted, intimidated, confused, in awe, slightly scared, nervous, confused, hungry…  

What? Hoseok hasn’t had lunch and coincidentally, he started feeling his tummy rumble when he looked at you.  

…..  

Fun fact: Hoseok is DEFINITELY NOT A CANNIBAL NOR HE EVER PLANS ON BEING ONE.  

If ever you were thinking...  

“Okay, so here’s the sitch.” Tae starts to explain your situation and everyone listens to him intently.  

Little did you all know, the final member of the friend group just arrived at the food court and is now walking towards where you all are.  

It wasn’t difficult to spot your group with Namjoon’s obnoxiously brightly coloured towering self and the few girls hanging around.  

Probably Jimin’s fanclub.  

“And so, here we are!” Tae finishes, keeping everyone updated.  

"Wow, so you two are looking for an actual job? Like, here? At the mall??" A very baffled Seokjin asks.  

Tae rolls his eyes.  

"Yes. Is that really hard to believe?" ��

"Actually, yes. It is."  

Another male voice is heard coming from someplace.  

“Yoongi hyung!”  

Oh great! Another one.  

Surely, this guy’s not that interesting.  

I mean, what are the fricking odds that he’s also an immaculate being??  

You turn around and your mouth drops to the floor.  

No no no no no.  

No way!  

Another freaking gOOD LOOKING GUY HAS WALKED UP TO YOUR GROUP.  

Okay, this is getting unbelievable now.  

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?  

Like, where and how on earth did Taehyung manage to get and round up SIX insanely good looking guys??  

What is this? Are you on The Bachelorette??

Wait no   

It's like Oprah!  

And instead of cars, she's giving away handsome men

You get a hot Asian man, you get a hot Asian man, you all get a hot Asian man!  

OR MAYBE  

Are you on MTV Punk'd?????  

Statistically speaking, a hot guy can have two or maybe three equally hot best friends

BUT SIX???   

ARE YOU KIDDING?  

Is Taehyung like Thanos? Collecting the six infinity stones?  

Thanos? lol.  

If anything, he's more like Henry VIII with his six wives.  

“So you guys didn’t even wait for me, huh?”

Yoongi, oh so casually, just takes a seat beside you   

Without even giving you a single glance or whatnot.  

“I didn’t know you'd be here at the mall today?”  

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”  

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “It’s a free country, I can be here whenever I want to be.”  

Well, can’t argue with that logic.  

The mall is practically your second home at this point.  

“... Also… uTunes is hiring and uh… I’m applying...”  

You don’t understand why but everyone else looks either shocked or annoyed at Yoongi’s announcement... 

Are you missing something here?  

“Man, you need to give it up! That place can suck it.”  

Yoongi gives Seokjin one of the scariest glare you’ve ever seen.  

It could rival against your dad’s famous death glares that he gives to his incompetent subordinates.  

Namjoon shakes his head disapprovingly, “You’re applying there again?? I can’t believe it.”  

Yes, again.  

This is going to be the seventh time he’s applying at uTunes Records, the most popular music shop there is.  

So many people flock to it even though we’re already in the digital age.  

But he doesn’t question it.  

All he cares about is getting a job there because the employees get to play their own music in the store.  

Do you know how much of a popularity boost that is?  

A CRAP TON.  

On top of that, one of the employees gets a chance to get signed by a record label every year.  

And if you're not awarded by that chance, you can still meet agents and get signed through their many parties.  

Because of that, so many people also apply for a job there.  

But they unfortunately have such high standards which is why even after three years, he still hasn’t passed their vibe check.

"Listen, seven's a lucky number. I have great feelings about this one. Besides, I've built up a strong résumé. Winning one of uTunes' own rookie dj contests must mean something, right? They can't not take me!"   

Wow.  

You've only known Yoongi for a solid three minutes, but you can already tell that he's quite passionate about this.  

"Hyung, all we're saying is that maybe you should consider doing something else? You could do so much more than run after that store." Jimin says and pats Yoongi's hand a couple of times.  

"All of you perfectly know getting a job there could quite possibly set my music career!"  

"Is that really it? Or is it because of a certain Daphne??" Seokjin teases him.  

The rest just mutters an "ooh" or an "aah".  

You seem to have been turned into an accessory.  

You so cannot relate to anything they've talked about since Yoongi came. 

It's like you're at one of your dad's social gatherings and all you can do is smile and nod.  

"ANYWAY," Yoongi interjects in their teasing. "So Tae, you're also looking for a job?"  

Jeez FINALLY.  

Something you can talk about that involves you.  

It felt like you were just back home watching some random show that doesn't require your input.  

Taehyung gives an overly dramatic heavy sigh.  

"Unfortunately, yes. Y/n and I both need one badly. But all the stores had been rejecting us left and right. Like, the audacity!" Taehyung rants all over again.  

Jimin, listens to him intently as if he hasn't heard all of this before.  

Seokjin seems to have been entertaining the surrounding ladies for a while now.

[by giving some ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ and some (•̀ᴗ-)☞  ]  

Across the table, Namjoon complains to Hoseok about getting in trouble with his boss.  

Jungkook, well, he's just staring at the beautiful pizza this kid next to you guys is eating. (Someone's hungry too, okay?) 

While Yoongi just openly stares at you.  

Welp.  

What the frick are you supposed to do now?

Is Taehyung or anyone going to properly introduce you two?   

No???  

Okay fine.  

Seems like you're gonna have to get used to doing things on your own.  

You smile at him and timidly hold your hand out.  

"Uh hi. I'm Y/n. I don't know if Tae's ever mentioned me to you before but--"  

"Oh, trust me. He's mentioned you plenty. He actually never shuts up about you."  

ʰᵉʰ  

Ok  

You don't really know if he was stating that as a fact or if he's trying to be mean…  

"Oh ha ha… That must be really annoying then."  

"Yeah, it is actually."  

Your small polite chuckle died down your throat.  

Wow and you thought Taehyung can be rude.  

hE'S STILL JUST STARING.  

"Uh…" You finally lowered your hand that he obviously isn't going to shake.  

That is definitely going in your top 10 most embarrassing moments ever.  

God, can someone get you away from this guy?  

What's his problem?  

"SO, can any one of you help us? Like, any tips or something?" Tae concludes his really long and repetitive rant.  

Everyone's eyes FINALLY focuses on Tae again.  

Seokjin snorts loudly.  

Eww.  

He opens his mouth to say something but Tae immediately holds his hand up to stop him.  

"Anyone except you hyung. I don't think you're classified."  

Everyone laughs to that and again,  

ARE YOU MISSING OUT ON SOMETHING HERE?  

Seokjin raises one finger like he's trying to make a point. "If anyone is classified to give tips on how to get accepted, it's me!"  

"Yeah, just not on how to last on one." Namjoon loudly whispers to Tae.  

"HEY I HEARD THAT!"  

Ohhh….  

So,  

Does he constantly get fired from a job?  

Well, that's just sad.  

Hopefully you don't end up like him.  

😳  

"Actually," Hoseok starts, "how do you end up landing on so many jobs? Like, don't they know your reputation?"  

And that's your cue to finally insert yourself in the conversation.  

"Uh, what reputation?"  

"Sweetheart, you don't really want to know! It's not that big of a deal." Seokjin quickly steers you away from the topic but the other guys didn't allow it to happen.  

"Oh, you know. Just that, he's known to be the "job eater" here. Cause he pretty much eats a job and moves on from it in a flash." Namjoon graciously fills you in.  

So you were right.  

That's kind of impressive though…  

But a huge waste.  

"Still! It makes me very much qualified to give the unemployed a tip!"  

"Save it hyung, you might need it for your next job once you get fired from Uncle Aang's."  

Seokjin gives everyone a sheepish smile.  

What's that about?  

It almost looks as if he…  

"YOU GOT FIRED ALREADY?!"  

"Oh you bet I did."  

To be fair, how could he not stop himself from eating the free samples? Those pretzels are literal drugs.  

"You just got that job four days ago. I can't believe it!"  

"I can believe it." Yoongi says out loud.  

Can't he say anything nice?  

"Whatever! Point is, these stores still hire me no matter what."  

"You know what, that is a good point." Taehyung mutters, slowly turning convinced by Seokjin.  

Namjoon groans. "Are you for real Tae? If you want some job advice, maybe ask one from us who has only had one permanent job all throughout."  

"Guys, let's give Seokjin hyung a chance!" Jimin, ever the sweet positive boy, suggests.

"Of course you would say that."    

Not wanting to fade into nothingness, you insert yourself again in the conversation.  

"I want to hear what he has to say."  

Once those words left your mouth, you instantly regret it.  

A.) Seokjin gives you another wink and gives you a flying kiss that has you weak in the knees again- I MEAN WHAT. I SAID NOTHING.  

And B.) Yoongi is clearly not a fan of you sharing your opinions with the group.    

Despite the obvious protests of Namjoon, Seokjin still gives his number one "professional" advice  

And that is to have a perfectly 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 résumé.  

"A high quality résumé? YOU? What the fuck are you talking about?" Yoongi says, slightly amused and slightly tired of the older guy's shenanigans.  

"Don't believe me? Fine. But I'm telling you, it's all here on paper!" Seokjin takes out a folder from his backpack and waves it around.  

Namjoon immediately snatches it from him  

"5 pages long?? Are you for real?”  

Seokjin hums and watches smugly with a cocky grin as the guys read through his résumé.  

“Hang on, since when did you do balloon modelling?”  

"I don't."  

Hoseok gasps. "But bro, isn't that lying?"  

"Yeah, duh! How else are these people gonna hire you? You have to sell them what they're looking for."  

"What if they ask you to use these skills that you clearly don't have?"  

"Then you're just gonna have to fake it till you make it, baby!"  

Huh  

No wonder he doesn't last long on a single job.  

"And how's that working out for you?" Yoongi presses on.  

"Well at least I get hired, Mr. 7th Time's the Charm!"  

Yoongi is like ᶠⁱᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵇⁱᵗᶜʰ (ง'̀-'́)ง  

"That's not really the point of having a job, but I guess, whatever floats your boat, dude!" Hoseok finally sides with Seokjin.  

"So everyone is looking for a job then?" Taehyung realizes, "this is so cool if all of us get hired! We'll all face the real world together."  

"All of us except Jungkook though."  

Who?  

Oh that extra cute shy boy.  

You forgot he's here.  

Boy really hasn't said a word at all.  

"Did ya hear that? All of us are getting jobs!"

"You should get one too!"   

"That would be so cool!"  

"So what do you say? What are your plans Kook?"  

"Guys, don't pressure the kid!"  

The guys talk simultaneously, ultimately kind of pressuring Jungkook to say something before he even thinks about it.  

The table falls silent and everyone eyes Jungkook.  

The guys are like ( ･ิ ͜ʖ ･ิ) and ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)  

Jungkook is like (ʘ ͟ʖ ʘ)  

Then the guys are like (≖ ͜ʖ≖)  

So jungkook is like (¬‿¬ )  

In the end, they are all like 

(☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)  

And through it all, you are just ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ  

What the heck is going on?  

"Yeah, why not?" Jungkook simply concludes and the guys make various celebrating noises.  

Gasp!  

He can talk???  

"Okay, everyone calm down! Let's wait until after everyone gets hired before we celebrate." Namjoon scolds everyone.  

"Well that might take a while considering Y/n and I can't find one!"  

Namjoon places a comforting hand on Tae's shoulder. "Oh relax, there's like ten thousand stores in the mall!"  

"Actually, there are only 613 stores in the entire mall." Hoseok points out a matter of factly.  

You all look at him dumbfoundedly.  

Aaaand he just stares back at all of you.  

Is this some kind of trivia that you need to know if you work around here?  

Are you gonna have to memorise a lot of facts about the mall???  

Oh, you don't like that.  

Seokjin was the first one to react.  

"Dude?? What the hell?!"  

"I got bored once while I was on a break and counted."

Huh.  

Makes sense.  

Yeah, sure.  

Why not?  

Why wouldn't you just go and count the total number of stores out of boredom???  

…  

THAT WAS A SARCASTIC REMARK IF YOU DIDN'T GET IT.  

"Even if there are 600 stores here, there are only like, 20 good stores that exist!" Tae remarks   

You want to say you can't agree more but you stop yourself because you don't think you can handle another cold stare from Yoongi.  

"Are you perhaps pertaining to the high end stores?" Namjoon muses.  

"Yeah. What else?"  

Jimin's eyes widen in shock. "Hold on. So you two have only been looking at that small section of the entire mall?"  

"Yeah. Why?"  

Yoongi chuckles condescendingly.  

"Bros, you know that saying… 'Beggars can't be choosers'?" Hoseok tries to enlighten you two.  

You and Tae look at each other.  

What an epiphany.  

A very disgusting yet important epiphany.  

"Are you… Are you guys saying that… We need to find a job… Outside of that section??"  

They all nod.  

Ughhhhhhh  

You and Tae make an annoyed sound.  

"Welcome to the real world, peasants!" Seokjin warmly tells you.  

Could things get any worse?  

"Hey, at least we'll all be here together!"  

Ha ha 

Great . Awesome. Wow.

"Well, on that note, I really need to get back to work. Lady and gentlemen, may the odds be ever in your favour. Good luck!"  

Namjoon stands and walks away.  

One by one, the other working guys went back to work as well, leaving you unemployed slackers.  

Hey they didn't even give any actual help!  

Wasn't that the reason why Tae called for a… What did they call it?  

Code something something.  

Oh whatever!  

Anyways,  

So to summarize things  

You might end up working at an awful low end store.  

And you're unwillingly stuck with the wrong set of people.  

One of them is a total flirt and an actual pain to society.  

Another one might possibly hate you for unknown reasons.   

This tall dude seems to be really uptight.  

Then there's this guy that seems really weird.

The other one, well… He's cute and doesn't really have any negative points yet BUT you're sure something's wrong with him.   

And the last one literally said one thing during the entire time!  

Oh, you've got a really really long way before you can pay your dad.  

Good luck to you, indeed.   

[encouleurdevie]

OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT. TIMOTHEE CHALAMET AT THE GOLDEN GLOBES. THE RINGS THAT HE WEARS GIVE ME A STROKE. YOU SHOULD WRITE SOMETHING INCORPORATING THOSE RINGS CAUSE... GODDAMN 🥵

Rings

a/n: …. sorry for disappearing for a while. send me ideas, i read them all, and i literally have google docs opened for all of them it’s just a matter of making myself be productive lol i love you. thank you for reading it means more than you’ll ever know

word count: 3100

“Be there in 5 minutes.” you typed as the taxi sped down the road towards a hotel that was much too fancy for your taste. But it was where Timothee was staying and you couldn’t say no to an invitation to come and take pictures of him before his big night. He was a nominee at the Golden Globes this year, and according to his previous texts, his stylists had gone all out for the occasion. One mirror selfie prompted you to pack your camera bag and hail a taxi to where he was staying. You were already drooling over how stunning his head-to-toe black outfit would look on your newest camera, which only shot in black and white.

As a photographer, you had a knack for capturing people at their best. It didn’t matter how confident they were or how camera shy they claimed to be, you had a way of making your subjects comfortable and carefree. People often told you that your photos were some of the most unique and beautiful they’d seen, which is how you had gotten to the point of photographing the enigmatic but easily recognizable faces of Hollywood. And it was going well, for the most part. Celebrities loved the attention they received after you released their photos. They loved feeling so special because of your attention to detail and poise behind the camera, and you loved the fact that they felt beautiful because of your photos. However, many of them would simply pay you for your time and then be on their way, never to speak to you again unless someone from their team of people reached out to you for another shoot. 

Timothee, however, was not one of these people. Months earlier, he had personally reached out to you online, expressing how much he liked your photos and how he’d love to do a shoot sometime. Nothing prepared you for the whirlwind of events that were to follow.

The first time you had taken his picture, you were blown away by how effortlessly attractive he was as he posed for you. The pictures turned out beautifully, but nothing could capture his essence as clearly as you could see it in person, so animated and electrifying. It would be a lie to say you weren’t smitten from the first click of your camera. As it turned out, Timothee was drawn to your passion for photography, your eclectic style, and the way your eyes looked when you stared at him carefully and told him how to pose. The second or third time you had taken his picture, a late night shoot on some of the hidden streets in LA, you had barely gotten ten pictures before he couldn’t stand it anymore and kissed you hard in an alleyway. You remembered waking up next to him, messy haired and in your underwear, the next morning. 

The photoshoots and secret rendezvous became routine, and before long you became a somewhat permanent member of his team, showing up to events and interviews and snapping photos. On the surface, you were merely his photographer, a background character in the spotlight of his life, but behind the dressing room door, he would be carefully undressing you and kissing you with a passion you didn’t know was possible. A secret affair from the public, and an erotic motivation for your art. 

As the taxi cab turned corners, you reminisced on the stolen kisses and the heat of his body moving against yours. When the hotel, in all of its high-end California glory, came into view, you shook your head in an attempt to get your mind back on the present. You thanked the cab driver and stepped out into the heat of Beverly Hills, walking quickly into the hotel lobby. 

Timothee had instructed you where to go once you were inside, so you made your way down the winding hallways until you found his room number. You knocked on the door twice, and waited. Within seconds, the door was yanked open and you were standing in front of the man who had come to be your muse. Timothee looked even better every time you saw him, and this time was no exception. The outfit looked even better in person than it had on your phone. The pristine black fabric of his shirt and pants fit his body snugly, and the small sequins that dotted his Louis Vuitton harness glinted in the light.

“Well hello, stranger,” he smiled.

“Hello, Mr. Fashion Man,” you replied, taking in the bold yet totally tasteful outfit.

He laughed his beautiful laugh and motioned for you to come into the posh hotel room which was decorated with various art deco furniture and paintings. Instead of having you set up in the indoor space, he walked across the room and out into an enclosed outdoor patio area.

“I was thinking this would be a cool spot,” he stated and looked at you for approval. You glanced around at the tall plants that bordered the small yard and admired the varying green hues of the space.

“This will be perfect,” you exclaimed, “but we need one thing.”

You dashed back into the room, and grabbed a tall metal chair that had caught your eye on the way in. You set it down in the grass, and made sure it was perfectly framed by leaves.

Timothee watched you closely, and smirked. “Always so full of ideas, aren’t you?”

You grinned at him and started unloading your camera bag onto a table just outside of the sliding glass door. You felt his eyes on you even after you looked away, making your heart beat ever so slightly faster.

“The newest addition to my collection,” you said proudly, reaching in your bag and then holding up your new camera. 

“Is that a film camera?” he stepped closer to you to see it better. And that was when you noticed them. As he reached up to try holding the camera, you noticed the small collection of rings positioned on his fingers. One on his pointer, one on his middle finger. You’d never seen him wear jewelry before and were taken aback by how good the rings looked on him. A tiny detail against the rest of his outfit, but a detail that for some reason made you lose all focus. As you gazed at his fingers, you realized you hadn’t answered his question.

“Yes. Um, yeah. I found it at an antique store last week and fixed it up.”

His eyes flicked up to you, obviously noticing the way you hesitated, and saw your eyes locked on his fingers as he held your camera. 

You brushed it off. “Anyway, I thought it would be cool to try it out. I forgot how much I love film.”

“Yeah. Okay, let’s do it.” He handed you the camera, and you noticed the way he made sure to brush his fingers against yours. This was going to be a long shoot if your mind kept wandering to other places, like it was starting to in that moment.

Timothee perched himself gently on the chair as you finished setting up the camera. When everything was ready to go, you brought the camera to your face, ready to start snapping away. The looks he was giving you could have melted iron. He knew exactly what he was doing too. As his eyes burned through the camera and he moved between poses, he began absently twisting the rings around his fingers. He moved them around, up and down his fingers, and spinning them around. 

The slight movement, paired with the fire in his eyes was making you squeeze your legs together. The rings were sexy, distracting, and clearly causing a lot of feelings to stir within you. His fingers were the only thing on your mind. You were always surprised at how he didn’t even have to say a single world. He just had to lock his big green eyes on yours and you were putty in his hands.

You pulled the camera away from your face, accidentally revealing your flushed cheeks.

“I just… um. I need to check something with the… uh… the shutter speed.” you said and it came out sounding more like a strangled whisper.

Timothee stood up instantly, and within seconds he was standing right in front of you. 

“No you don’t.” he cooed. You felt his presence so close to yours, and once again your eyes were glued to the rings on his fingers. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “You’re aching aren’t you?” 

You looked up at him, and that was the end of it. He took the camera from your shaky hands and bent down until his lips were pressed roughly on yours. If this was what getting busted for having dirty thoughts about Timothee meant, you would gladly accept the consequences. 

He started nudging you backwards into the hotel room, one hand on the small of your back the other reaching out to set the camera back in your bag. Obviously, you wouldn’t be needing that for a while. You reached up, still moving your lips messily against his, and clasped your hands behind his head, gently touching the curls that graced the back of his neck.

Timothee pulled away for a second, letting you both catch your breath. His demeanor had gone from the smiley boy who greeted you at the door, to a worked up and dominating version of himself. You could sense how worked up he was too, and how much he craved your body. Every time something like this happened between the two of you, it was like the first time. There was so much sexual tension between you and the second someone initiated anything it was like an explosion of repressed feelings. And it felt so good.

As soon as Timothee led you across the threshold of the room, he fell back onto a chair that had been pulled away from expensive-looking desk. He pulled you right on top of him so that your chests were right up against each other. You straddled his legs, causing your flowy skirt to bunch up around your thighs. Timothee’s hands followed the fabric, gently grazing the skin on your legs until he had a firm grasp on your hips underneath your skirt. As he traced his fingers along the waistband of your panties, you felt the rings against you, causing your breath to hitch. 

“I saw you looking at them, baby.” he whispered against your ear. “Thought you might like them.”

“Fuck.” you groaned against his neck. “They look so good…”

You pushed yourself closer to him, grinding your hips onto his and feeling the outline of his hardening cock beneath you. In a swift movement, he pulled one hand away from your waist and brought it back down on your ass quickly. The warmth of his hand coupled with the cool metal of the rings made you squeal in anticipation. His hands guided your body as you continued to rub your hips against his lower half.

“Stand up.” he directed, his voice coming out cool and confidently arousing. You climbed off his lap, painstakingly dragging your body away from his, despite only wanting to be touching him everywhere. You stood up on shaky legs between his knees as he looked up at you from where he continued to sit. His hands gripped the backs of your thighs, his stare filled with desire. Calmly, and still gauging your reaction, he gathered the material of your skirt in his fists and tugged downward. The light fabric fell from your body smoothly and pooled around your ankles, leaving you in your blouse and lacy underwear in front of him. His eyes hungrily raked across your body.

You really couldn’t stand not touching him for a second longer, so you bent down and caught his lips in yours. His hands cupped your jaw as you licked into his mouth, and you dropped your hands to the top of his pants. You popped the first button open and fumbled around until your fingers worked the zipper down. He pushed up against you, still kissing you hard, just enough so that he could push his black pants down to his knees. 

“Now come back here.” he mumbled against your lips. You didn’t need to be told twice. You let your body fall back open, spreading your legs so that you were straddling him again, this time only underwear between your lower halves. Your draped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

Timothee snaked one hand up the back of your blouse, sending a shiver up your spine, and began inching the other hand down the front of your panties. 

“I know what you want, princess.” he whispered. “I know you’ve been thinking about my fingers since you walked in the goddamn door.”

He ran a finger teasingly across your slit, and his face broke into a cocky grin as soon as he realized how wet you were for him. His eyes were locked on yours with such intensity you felt like if you broke the stare you might burst into flames. He began rubbing his fingers in slow circles around your clit, eliciting a string of moans to come tumbling from your lips, which you were biting down on to try and stifle the noise.

But your mouth quickly fell open as he slowly, slowly pushed a finger into you. His face remained calm but he knew exactly what he was doing to you, knew exactly the way he made you feel. You whimpered as you felt his ring make contact with your entrance. 

“That feel good baby?”

You didn’t reply, but merely sighed heavily in response, feeling so worked up. 

“I said does that feel good baby.”

“Fuck.. yes I-” Before you could finish speaking he was inserting a second finger, and didn’t stop until both fingers were ring-deep inside of you. You could feel every inch of his fingers sending waves of pleasure straight to your brain. He stilled for a second, still with his fingers inside of you and tilted his face up to yours. He just looked at you, his face emotionless but stern, studying you closely. He was driving you crazy, edging you on, and still giving you that stupid look. This was exactly what you craved.

“Look at me.” he said. “Look me in the eyes when I touch you.” You dragged your eyes open to meet his only inches away. He pulled his fingers down and out in one quick motion, before sliding them right back in and starting up a rhythm. In and out, scissoring you open a bit, feeling your walls, rings colliding with your entrance each time he pushed his fingers back in. You dripped onto his fingers, covering his knuckles with your juices. Moans spilled from your mouth as you bounced lightly on his fingers. You gripped his shoulders, pulling at the black fabric that was still annoyingly on his body. The way Timothee touched you radiated this dominant energy despite the fact that you were on top. He had a way of making you feel like all of you was his, no matter what position you ended up in, and it drove you wild. 

You started feeling your stomach get tighter, teetering on the edge of cumming all over his fingers. He noticed this too and began pulling his fingers out of you, not ready to let you come apart just yet.

“Clean it up.” he said putting his fingers close by your face. You took his hand in both of yours and slowly licked up the mess you made on his fingers. Your brain felt fuzzy, still grasping for the high he denied you, and as you licked yourself off his fingers your heart pounded in needy anticipation. Timothee watched you with hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. He began edging a hand down into his underwear, which were tight as his cock strained against them. You watched his jaw clench and unclench as he began pumping himself, getting harder and harder as you licked his fingers.

The sight was enough to throw you over the edge. You could not wait any longer. 

You let his hand drop from yours and you pushed yourself up and against him until the tip of his dick was right at your entrance. 

“You gonna fuck me, baby? You wanna ride my dick?” Timothee hissed.

You groaned in response and dropped your body down, letting his cock fill you all the way up until you bottomed out. A low, loud groan fell from his mouth and his hands found their way back to your hips. You allowed yourself to fixate on the feeling of him inside of you, filling you up so perfectly and sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body.

After a second of adjustment, his hands found your hips again, and began guiding you, up and down, roughly, against him. The rhythm got faster and faster, and you whimpered above him as the incredible sensations racked through your body. He groaned beneath you, loving the way your pussy felt around him and the way your nails dug into the skin on his shoulders. He leaned forward and placed open mouthed kisses along your collarbone which was peeking out over the top of your now very messed up blouse, as the two of you got closer and closer. 

You dropped your head down onto his shoulder as you felt yourself start to tighten around him. 

“I’m gonna cum, oh my god. I’m gonna cum.” you moaned into his neck, feeling his hot skin and the tight breaths coming out of him. 

“You look sooo good, Y/N,” he whined moving his hands to your ass and rocking you against him. It was like you couldn’t get close enough to each other, and your bodies moved together in hot quick motions. Timothee angled himself into you and you suddenly felt him so deeply, so electrically, so incredibly well. You felt yourself come apart around his cock, grinding your hips down into his and crying out as the pleasure flowed through your body. 

The intensity of your orgasm was enough to throw Timothee over the edge too. He fucked up into you roughly as you clenched yourself around him, still coming down from your own high. He moaned your name loudly in your ear as he came undone, cumming in hot spurts inside you, and still holding your hips tightly against him. 

His dominant aura began to disappear as he recomposed himself, and his face melted into a smile. 

“God, I’m so obsessed with you.” he said, breathing heavily.

You leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek. “You’re my muse, Timothee.” You peppered more kisses on his cheeks and neck.

The smile stayed plastered on his face for the rest of the evening, and through the award show he attended later, where he beamed at the rest of the cameras, thinking about how none of them could ever compare to you.