projectorjakartapusat-blog

[teehee-vibes]

✨⚡️✨

[hansensgirl]

baby, but you.

summary. | He hopes you can feel it, because nobody else can heal it but you. Baby, but you.

warnings. | smut, hate fucking (ish), enemies to lover, slight angst, birthdays, degradation, praise, spitting, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, yearning, crushing, riding, couch sex, breeding, possessiveness, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI AND DO NOT REPOST MY STORIES.

word count. | 3.6k

pairings. | Bucky Barnes x Reader.

a/n. | happy birthday @asadmarveltrashbag ilysm!!! thank you so much for being there for me since like day one, for being such a good role model and for just being amazing. thank you so much for listening to me rant and giving me advice, i’m so grateful for you. i hope your birthday is amazing today, i love you so much!! don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know.

He stands afar from you. A cold, calculated stare that you’re almost tempted to challenge with your killer one. There are only about two and a half meters of space separating you two, and even that’s not enough. You’re like a cat and a dog, constantly fighting about God knows what. Sometimes it’s the stupidest of things; other times, it’s the most reasonable. Either he has the television on too loud, or you come home too late. The other neighbours… Well, frankly, they don’t live here anymore.

It’s because they can’t handle his screaming when he has nightmares. You scoffed when you first heard it from your landlord, finding it absolutely insane that nobody is used to the sounds of a nightmare. As if they’re any better. You handle it like a champion, simply just putting on earbuds and your favourite songs at the lowest volume until you fall asleep. You almost feel bad for him when you see him with deep bags under his eyes.

But one short, snarky remark from him has the sympathy in you draining. Almost like the way his hands are the palest colour ever, and his skin doesn’t have the redness it should have. Almost as if the colours on a painting have been scraped off. You shouldn’t be noticing these things, really, but you just can’t help it. He’s almost a shell of the man he once was, at least in his words, but you believe that with some care (not from your hands, ew), he’ll be back to normal.

He shouldn’t notice the way you sigh every time you get home. The way you drag yourself through the carpeted hallway, out from the metal box that Bucky doesn’t trust. He doesn’t charge anything that has to do with heights, so that’s why he’s settled for the second floor. The drop in his stomach brings back so many memories that he can’t bear to remember.

Sometimes, he picks up the rumble of your stomach that he knows you’re embarrassed about, only because when it happens, you become the most fearful sailor to ever cross the shore. You always arrive right before Bucky falls asleep, leaving him at peace. ...No, no, no. It’s not like that. He totally doesn’t wait up until you come home safely before he can actually fall asleep so he can have a sense of calm. No, that’s absurd. Another absurd thing is the ungodly hour that you arrive home.

“Listen, you’re the one who bumped into me, okay? Let’s just leave it at that,” you huff, swinging your keychain between your fingers. Your digits are so soft, only ever coarse when you touch the skin between them. His hands, however, are almost the opposite. They’re rough and dry, but the crevices are a bit damp with sweat from pure nervousness. “No, no, you bumped into me, and we’re going to leave it at that, okay? Okay,” he nods, even though he’s talking to you.

“No, you bumped into me, and that’s that. Goodbye, Mr. Barnes,” you finish, throwing your bag over your shoulder and stomping down the hallways. You don’t look back once, simply just strutting your way to that darned elevator that you loathe. Suddenly, a hand wraps around your arm and turns you around. “I didn’t say you could go; we’re not done until I say we’re done,” he growls, gripping your arm tight enough to have you whimpering.

“No, fuck you. I’m tired of constantly listening to you bitch and moan about things that aren’t even my fault. God, it’s like you’re twenty fucking years old with no maturity, it’s fucking pathetic,” you spit, trying to yank your arm away. But compared to a supersoldier, your strength is equal to a cool spring breeze hitting a concrete building—basically nothing. Bucky’s chest heaves, and for a moment, you’re scared.

But even though he has a temper, he could never hurt you. He’s not the Winter Soldier; you’re sure of it.

His jaw clenches, and you stare at him intensely. Work is long forgotten, just like the fact that today is your birthday. That nervous, jittery feeling that would pool in the pits of your soul isn’t there. You wonder if it’s because you’re all grown up now, or maybe it’s because you’ve been so busy that your birthday seems like any other day in your eyes. Your eyes fall to his lips, almost on instinct. They’re pink and plump, slightly damp from the wetness on his tongue.

He gently pushes you inside his home, and you stumble back in shock. “I have to go to work–” you start, but he cuts you off. “I don’t give a shit. I need to teach you a lesson,” he snaps, pulling off his leather jacket. It has blue hues to it, sometimes grey if shone under the correct lighting. It’s overall black, suiting that dark soul of his that some people claim he has. You keep your mouth shut, clutching onto the strap of your backpack that rests on your right shoulder.

Suddenly, that fiery haze of yours has faded out, and you just watch him dumbfounded. Your jaw is slightly slack, but your eyes aren’t bulging out. Bucky pulls off the unusual leather gloves that always seemed to be a little too big on him. The space between his fingers and the cloth is always too much, and you even contemplated ‘accidentally’ giving him a new, better-fitting pair.

They flop onto the floor with an almost laughable sound, but you know you shouldn’t even dare to crack a smile. “Always going on and on about something. You just need to be shut up for once, don’t you?” Bucky questions, snapping his head towards you. “N- No…” you whisper, looking down to the ground. Suddenly, you prefer looking at wood floors to handsome men such as Bucky.

“Oh… Right, I forgot. You don’t know what’s good for you, that’s why you go to work and come home so late in the night. Bet you don’t have any time to fuck around with those pathetic twenty-year-old douchebags. That’s why you touch that little pussy of yours before you head to work, right?” he questions, and you gulp thickly.

Did he really hear it all?

“Please, I heard the way you finger fuck yourself in the shower all the way here. You really need to learn how to properly lock your door. You’re lucky those old ladies were here when I heard you, or else I would’ve come all the way over there and taught you a real good lesson,” he snaps, and you genuinely feel like doubting every little thing you do. “And you know what’s so funny, doll? I even hear the way you moan my name when you’re about to come,” he whispers, standing so close to you, and you wonder how he even managed to get here.

Your faces are inches away, His warm breath fans against your skin, and Bucky can feel the nervousness seeping through your pores. “Need a refresher? Or are you just going to stay quiet?” he questions, raising his eyebrows. He has a stupid smile on his face, and you’re not sure whether you want to kiss him or slap him. Both seem very appealing, but God, that devil on your shoulder always did have a loud voice.

Your bag joins his gloves on the floor, and you tilt your head upwards to kiss him. Your lips slowly slot against his, the taste of stale coffee immediately fills your mouth as Bucky shoves his tongue past your lips. He cups the side on your face, and your hands remain bent in the air. You don’t know what to do with yourself, so you place them on his shoulders, hoping for the best. He tenses up for a bit, and you start to pull away.

He doesn’t let you go too far. His hands keep you near him, and he stares into your eyes. Blue, blown-out orbs give Bucky an even darker look, and you’re practically sailing the same ship. “Don’t… Don’t go,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “I won’t, but-” you begin, but he cuts you off with an open-mouthed kiss. It’s so rough, so passionate. Teeth and tongues clash at each other, and you whimper against him as his hands move from your face.

They run down your body before gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him. His front presses against yours, and you can feel his defined muscles through that black t-shirt of his. You wrap your arms around his neck, such a simple act and yet he’s swooning like the lovesick fool he is. No, no, no, he’s not lovesick, and he’s not swooning. He’s just wanting, and that is all, just like you are.

You roll your hips for friction, desperate for something. The faint feeling of Bucky’s hard cock sends shivers down your spine, and you just know he’s huge. He could probably split you in two if he really wants to, and maybe it’s what you want as well. God, just the mental image of his cock sliding in and out of you is so pleasurable. Wetness soaks your panties, and you moan into his mouth.

“Say ‘ah,’ slut,” he mumbles before pulling away from the kiss again. You quickly do so and watch as Bucky puckers his bruised, red lips. You’re not sure what to expect; a stupid, silly kiss or something else. Your tongue is stretched out inside your mouth, and you wait for him as your chest rises and falls. Your eyes watch him as he spits into your mouth, a wad of spit dripping onto your tongue and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.

You quickly swallow it as if it’s some sort of antidote to an incurable disease. “Oh, you’re such a dirty fucking girl, aren’t you? I bet you’d let me do anything to you, right? Let me fuck you silly, throw you around, treat you like the spoiled brat you are,” Bucky growls with a fierce smirk on his stupidly gorgeous face. Sculpted by the Gods themselves, you wonder why the world has been so mean to him.

No, no, no, you don’t. You’re just desperate and needy.

“You really are stupid, and I haven’t even touched that little pussy of yours yet, and you can’t even answer a simple li’l question,” Bucky says out loud, expressing pure shame and disgrace. You shake your head before placing your hands back on his hard, defined chest. There’s a specific spot on his chest where the fabric is too sheer. You can see the way his soft hair has been shaved down to a mere stubble, and you wonder what he’d look like if it was grown out.

“I- I’m a dirty girl, I’d let you do anything to me, James,” you whisper to him, looking up at him with unintentional doe eyes. “I know, baby, I know,” he smirks before pushing you backwards. You expect to collide with the wooden floors harshly and startle the downstairs residents, or maybe even on a carpet that would try to break your fall but would end up failing.

You don’t expect to fall back onto a soft, cushioned couch. It’s more so an armchair that is a greyish-blue colour, one that you’d see and Ikea and want so bad, but you’d quickly change your mind once you see the whopping price it’s set at. Bucky towers over you, and you tilt your head up, still watching has the features of his face twitch a bit. His hands run down to your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your jeans before his nimble yet strong, thick fingers reach to the button and zipper.

He makes quick work of stripping your clothes off for you, and you try your hardest to do the same for him. But flying, clashing hands that are oh so desperate can’t really do much. So as he pulls your wet panties down your feet, you hurriedly kick them to the floor. Bucky pulls his shirt over his head, and you’re not sure if you’ve lost it or if time truly has slowed down. You’re able to memorize each freckle, each scar, each mole and each muscle of his upper body.

He’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Though everyone has their measly little flaws that can be so bothersome, in your eyes, he has no flaws. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he breathlessly tells you, making you struggle to fight the cheerful smile that forces its way onto your face. “You’re pretty too, James,” you tell him, reaching backwards to unclasp your bra.

Now, there’s nothing special about it, really. It’s plain black, and in some areas, it physically pains you, leaving branded marks behind that feel good when you gently run your hands over them. Nonetheless, you look gorgeous with it on. But when it’s on the floor, treated like nothing, you’re even more beautiful. Your slick has stained your inner thighs with stickiness, and your clit throbs with need.

Bucky parts your legs, watching as strings of wetness pull apart from each other. “Fucking hell, is that all because of me, slut? Say it, tell me who you’re so wet for,” he demands, and your breathing hitches. “S’all for you, James, I’m so wet because of you,” you whisper to him, and he smirks devilishly. You clench around nothing but air, desperate for his cock to be inside you. “I want you so bad, James, please fuck me,” you beg to him desperately, and he chuckles.

Bucky goes to start taking off his pants, unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper that sometimes gets caught onto the fabric of his boxers a little too much. The black fabric slips off his skin like an extra layer of skin, and the sight of his hard cock beneath his briefs is so sexy. You let out a shaky breath, and you can just see how fucking huge he is. Impossibly long with a thickness that’ll leave you limping for at least a week or two.

“You know what’s so fucking hilarious, baby? Just moments ago, you were cursing me out, fuming at me and calling me pathetic, but look at you; you’re the pathetic one here. Practically drooling for my cock, so needy as soon as I put my hands on you,” Bucky scoffs, and you know he’s so right. He pulls down his boxers, and you watch as his cock springs out, slapping his lower abdomen and near his pretty Adonis bone.

He roughly pulls you up and sits down on the couch before dragging you onto his lap. You straddle the sides of his thick thighs, and his big cock presses right next to your pussy, between your legs. Beads of precum drip down the shaft of his cock, and some of it even sticks to your skin. “You want my cock, baby? Well, go ahead, you can have it,” he tells you, resting his hands on your hips.

You exhale nervously, knowing that his cock is gonna stretch you out so much, it’ll be borderline painful and pleasurable. You lift your hips up a bit, and Bucky’s hand grasps the base of his cock. He’s sticky and pulsating, a raging red that is almost purple if you squint your eyes enough. He drags it from your swollen little pearl all the way down to your drooling hole. The mild friction is absolutely amazing, making you moan softly.

Bucky shudders as he slowly pushes the tip of his cock inside of you. He almost wants to tease you so badly, make you beg for it until you’re sobbing and going all ditzy for him. But he’s not all the mean, and he can’t possibly be so cruel to the birthday girl. In one swift motion, Bucky pulls you down onto his cock, burying himself inside of you. You toss your head back and cry out as he stretches you painfully. The wet squelching pounds of your pussy are loud, but your moans are much louder.

He curses and bites down on his bottom lip, falling in love with the way your pussy hugs him tightly and the velvet feeling of your walls. No, no, no, he is not falling in love. He’s just desperate, that’s all. It takes you both a few seconds to adjust, and the painful stretch dulls down to immense pleasure. You struggle to control your breathing, though, because you’ve never taken anyone or anything as big and him. Months of wanting and needing him have finally come down to this, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

He hopes you can feel it because nobody can heal it but you. Every single day he thinks about you, and his heart hurts. His heart hurts when he watches you leave and come home, it hurts when you both fight, and it hurts when he believes you could never love him. His mind still tells him that, and yet here you are, riding his cock on your birthday. He notices the way your bottom lip wobbles a bit, and he pities you.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby, you’re doing so good. Ride my cock, birthday girl, I know you can do it,” Bucky praises with the most innocent smile ever. You nod your head and slowly begin to rock your hips, moving them up and down his cock. Bucky is torn; he doesn’t know whether he should stare at your pretty face or at where you’re both connected. Your slick coats his cock and leaves it glistening, and he watches as it disappears and reappears over and over.

His hand returns back onto your hips, and he gently guides you up and down his cock. Your pained whimpers soon turn to loud, slutty, desperate moans, and Bucky begins to fuck up into your cunt, meeting you at every thrust. “Fuck, yeah, that’s my good girl. Riding my cock so fucking good,” Bucky coos, and you can’t help but giggle. Warmth fills your chest, and pleasure blooms immensely in your core, and it’s the exact same for Bucky.

His balls slap against your ass, and his cock drives in and out of you. You ride him at a quicker pace, moaning loudly, and he nudges against your sweet spot. “You look so fucking sexy riding my cock, baby. Could watch you forever an’ ever,” Bucky purrs, gripping your hips even tighter. Electricity crackles up your spine, almost like a burning wire in a destroyed fuse box. Everything is so sensitive, and the searing pleasure builds up inside the two of you.

Beads of sweat drip down your neck, and it is the same for Bucky. His skin shines just like his cock does, and the veins on the side of it throb with every movement. The wet noises and the sound of skin on skin fills the room almost impressively. The neighbours would’ve already filed noise complaints if they still lived here, but they don’t. So Bucky’ll fuck your brains out until you can’t make a sound.

“Fuck, you’re close, aren’t you? Can feel the way that nice little cunt is squeezin’ my cock,” he groans, staring up at you with his jaw slightly slacked. Your eyes have glazed over, and you stare at Bucky’s face. You ride him using his dick for all your needs and wants. It’s just like you’ve imagined, even down to the pleasure you’re feeling. “Mhm, gonna come all over your big cock,” you whimper at a specific thrust.

And he’s close too. Though the serum should make him last longer, your pussy just defies those rules. He fucks into you faster and rougher, and your legs have turned to jelly. You collapse onto his chest and let him pound your pussy into oblivion. Bucky’s chest rumbles with a chain of moan and curses, and you look up at him. His metal arm is icy cold, just like his eyes. But his orbs are darker than regular ice. They resemble black ice more than anything.

The elastic band in your stomach twists up tightly until it can’t do anything but snap. And so it does. The dam breaks, and you’re suddenly coming around Bucky’s cock. Your cum coats his cock and drips down his balls as your body seizes up. Your jaw falls open, and your eyes roll back while you moan loudly. “Fuck, you look so pretty when you come,” Bucky breathes, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck.

You cry out loudly as Bucky sloppily fucks you through your orgasm and chases his own. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, knock you up with my kids. Fuck, you’d look so hot with a bump, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of your body,” he moans deeply, feeling his balls tighten up. He tosses his head back and curses, hitting his release. Ropes of cum shoot inside your cunt, painting your walls and even leaking out a bit. Somewhere, deep down inside Bucky, he truly hopes it sticks.

He moans loudly as his hips give a few shallow thrusts, prolonging his orgasm. You both sigh, slick with sweat and other bodily fluids that neither of you cares about. “Happy birthday…” Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss on the side of your head. “T- Thank you… How’d you know, though?” you question, even though his cock is still inside you. “Just did… Listen, I’m sorry–” he starts, but you cut him off. “Shh, I don’t care about anything but you, baby,” you tell him, whispering gently.

“Baby, but you.”

[whatisthiswritingthing]

Puppy Love - Part Two - Emily Sonnett x Reader

Sequel to Puppy Love. 

**UPDATED AND REPOSTED**

“That was smooth as fuck, how are you even possibly considering not texting Sonnett?” Kelley asked the defender while they took their cleats off after practice, she had been pestering her the whole time about what she would say to the dog owner.

“Maybe the ball was meant for you? How do we even know I am the one she was giving her number to?” Sonnett threw a cleat harshly into her bag, flopping back, exasperated at Kelley’s relentlessness.

“Because the dog pushed the ball to you not me,” Kelley smacked Sonnett on the arm.

“You’re really trusting that the dog got the right person?”

“The dog who knows how to wave did not give the ball to the wrong person,” the brunette rolled her eyes, “but, if you really don’t think it was meant for you, I’ll text her myself and see what she says,” she leaned over trying to take the ball from Emily’s hands.

“No!” Emily shot up, eyes wide while she looked at her friend. Kelley was eccentric and would say anything she could to prove her point that the number was meant for Emily and not herself, so Kelley messaging Y/N was a very dangerous thing.

“So, you agree it was meant for you then,” Kelley tapped the ball as Emily tightened her grip on it.

Kelley watched at the blonde traced her fingers the writing on the ball, tapping her thumbs on either side, her eyebrows furrowed, biting her bottom lip.

“What would I say? What if she isn’t really interested in me? Or what if she just likes the idea of me? Or-“ Sonnett begins to ramble, only stopping when Kelley covers one of her fidgeting hands, stilling the thumb tapping the ball.

“Then you find that out after you talk to her, but you can’t always live in the what ifs Son. I won’t push you if you truly don’t feel comfortable,” the brunette said softly, dipping her head to try and meet eyes.

Sonnett’s hands stilled, she bit her lip, nodding her head slightly.

“You really think it’s a good idea? Or are you just pushing this for the sake of pushing it?”

Kelley’s hand tightened around Sonnett’s wrist, “I would never push you into something that isn’t good for you,” she tapped a finger above the note, “this is a good idea. She didn’t push it, didn’t try and force an answer, she’s letting you decide for yourself.”

Emily squeezed the ball into place between her knees, then reached down for her phone and began slowly inputting the number. Sitting with the blank message open, Sonnett chewed her lip, debating what to say.

Sonnett: Why aren’t Dalmatians good at Hide n’ Seek?

“You did not just start talking to her by sending her a dog joke?” Kelley pulled her hand off, rolling her eyes at the blonde. Sonnett grinned back, nodding proudly, nerves having left while she thought of a joke.

“Of course I did! I want someone who can handle a joke,” Sonnett defended herself.

Y/N: Because they’re always spotted!

Sonnett burst out laughing at the quick response, tilting her phone to show the correct answer to the joke to Kelley.

“You need to marry this woman,” Kelley shook her head when she saw the reply, happy that the response was exactly the type of response the blonde was looking for.

Y/N: What is it called when a dinosaur gets a goal?

Emily furrowed her eyebrow while she thought about the answer.

Sonnett: I don’t know, what?

Y/N: A dino-score!

The blonde giggled to herself, it was such a cheesy joke.

“Sonnett only you would find someone with worse jokes than you at a soccer field,” Kelley teased the younger woman while they continued to get ready to leave.

Sonnett hardly heard her while she went back and forth sending more bad joke or puns, both seeming to have an extensive joke knowledge.

“Hey Casanova, you know you’re going to have to ask her out at some point, you can’t just keep sending her jokes, maybe even have a conversation with her,” the brunette nudged her shoulder as she stood up.

“Yeah, I know, but what if she isn’t interested in that part?” Sonnetts nerves having seemed to return, rubbing her hand on the back of her neck.

“Son,” Kelley tugged her off the bleachers and began leading them to her car, “she didn’t give you her number to just send you bad jokes back and forth.” She wrapped her arm around Sonnetts shoulder, tugging her into her side.

“I know, but this just seems too easy, too good to be true kind of thing,” she fidgeted with the strap of her gym bag.

Kelley spun around and gripped both of Emily’s shoulders, “look at me,” she said firmly, waiting for the younger woman make eye contact, “it is easy, stuff like this shouldn’t be hard, don’t think so much. Let it be easy, let it be fun, let it just flow.”

“What do I say now? The joke seemed like such a good way to start talking to her, but now I don’t know how to switch to talking normal,” Sonnett said softly.

“Don’t over think it,” Kelley repeated, keeping her hands on Sonnetts shoulders, squeezing them slightly, “keep it simple, ask about her day, how her run was. Don’t over complicate it.”

Sonnett bit her lip and nodded along.

Sonnett: So, how’s the pup? He steal anymore soccer balls?

Y/N: Nah he only steals them from pretty blondes ;)  

Kelley pushed Emily away from her, “see Sonny! She’s flirting with you! You’ve got this.”

Sonnett blushed at the other blondes comment when it came through.

After that, conversation flowed easily between the two. They texted constantly throughout the day; a smile never left Sonnetts face the whole time. Y/N was smart and funny, she genuinely wanted to know about Emily, asking about her life, her day.

The next morning Y/N was already on the field with Orion, the dog racing back and forth on the far end. Sonnett paused at the gate just watching before they were seen, Bagel eagerly tugged at the leash, excited to go run with the large dog.

“If you don’t walk in, I’m kicking another ball over there,” Kelley pushed the blonde the rest of the way into the field.

Sonnett stumbled but continued to cross the field, Bagel leading the way to the pair. When Y/N saw them, she began to make her way over, Orion trotting alongside her.

“Hey, you guys made it,” Y/N smiled.

“Of course, we’re here every morning.”

“Right,” Y/N nodded, she nervously petted Orion. The two now standing in awkward silence, broken up by Bagel pulling trying to get closer to the shepherd.

“Oh, umm, this is Bagel,” Emily motioned to the dog

“Hey buddy,” Y/N stepped forward, palm out for the dog to sniff her, “can I?” she confirmed with Emily first.

“Of course!”

Y/N knelt down, letting the excited dog sniff her before she began to pet her.

“Orion is good with dogs if you want to let them meet,” Y/N glanced up, watching Sonnett nod and Y/N called Orion over.

The dogs eagerly sniffed each other out before running off to chase each other.

“So, I’ve got a bit of a confession,” Y/N winced, biting her lip, staring off watching the dogs.

Sonnett felt her stomach drop, this was the crash after the good she had been worried about the day before. She nervously ran her thumb along her lip.

“I kind of knew who you and Kelley were already, I, uh, I knew the first morning I saw you guys,” Y/N awkwardly explained, vaguely pointing to the brunette on the other end.

The blonde defender didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Not that that matters, it really doesn’t change anything. Just lucky you have a good wingman over there sending you to my furman,” she motioned between the two mentioned, “It doesn’t matter who you are, I was still very much hooked on the beautiful blonde across the field.”

Sonnett stared wide eyed at the woman.

“That was too much information,” Y/N blew out a breath, “you guys go train, I got these two.” she shuffled her feet away from the blonde.

“Uhh, no, that wasn’t too much. I really appreciate that it doesn’t change anything, some people are so weird about it,” Sonnett blushed, “I do have a confession of mine though. I wasn’t scared of Orion yesterday, I, umm, I was, well I was nervous to talk to you.”

“Hey! Lovebirds, we training today or not?” Kelley called.  

“Go, before you guys lose another ball to her impatience,” Y/N chuckled, pushing the blonde, “not sure your equipment manager will be too happy about another one. We can do coffee after if you want.”

Sonnett had begun walk backwards, listening, “I’d like that,” she nodded with a soft smile before jogging away.  

It was slightly awkward after Emily and Kelley finished training. The two blondes had leashed their dogs and began to walk through the park, Y/N guiding them towards the small coffee cart.

“So, you did deep dive on me?” Emily broke the ice while they walked, tone light and teasing.

Y/N blushed and looked away, “ahh, not quite. I knew who you guys were already. Both teams actually. Fuck, I take that back, that makes me sound like such a stalker.”

“No! Not all,” Sonnett laughed, “fan then?”

“Of you or teams?”

“Both?”

“Umm guess I gotta go with both then too,” Y/N chuckled, “fuck I should really stop talking. I’m going to start from again.”

Y/N stopped walked and held her hand out, “hi, I’m Y/N L/N, I am a veterinarian. This is Orion, he is German shepherd. And what is your name?”

Sonnett stopped as well and burst out laughing when Y/N formally introduced herself, but held her hand out, shaking Y/N’s.

“I’m Emily Sonnett, I’m a professional soccer player. This is Bagel Bongo, she is an Australian cattle dog.”

The two women shook hands, smiling at each other, before both laughing and pulling apart.

“Alright Emily Sonnett, soccer player extraordinaire, important life question, and there is a right answer to this question.”

“Alright Y/N L/N, hit me.”

“Marvel or DC?” Y/N asked with a straight face.

“What’s that?” Sonnett answered with a straight face.

The pair arrived in line at the coffee cart, Y/N pulled to a stop and just stared at the blonde. Emily cracked quickly and began giggling.

“I’m messing with you,” she squeezed Y/N’s bicep, “I think I gotta go with Marvel. I mean, you’ve seen Captain Marvel, right?”

“I knew I liked you Sonnett,” Y/N winked.

After that, conversation flowed between them as they walked through the park. They easily laughed and smiled, and before they realized It, they were back at the soccer field. Standing at the entrance, Sonnett needing to go one way, while Y/N the other.

Neither were ready to separate though, standing off to the side of the path, continuing to talk.

Suddenly Bagel let out a series of barks, pulling abruptly past Y/N, harshly taking Emily with her, sending her crashing into Y/N. Sonnett was able to gain control of the dog, holding the leash firm while Y/N helped to brace her.

“Hi,” Emily whispered when she realized how close she was to Y/N.

“Hi,” Y/N whispered back, “I need to get to work.”

“Right,” the defender whispered, but didn’t quite pull away, “same time tomorrow?”

“This or training?”

“Both, definitely both.”

Y/N gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek before beginning to pull away, “I like both.”

[twices-pup]

Hiraeth

title : hiraeth ( minatozaki sana x fem reader )

word count : 1,592 words

genre : angst

warnings : single mention of alcohol

synopsis : hiraeth (n) - a homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was. ( non-idol au )

side note : i didn’t expect myself to post another fic so soon, but the idea for this came to me at like, almost 1 in the morning and i was able to finish it soon after i woke up, so i thought, “hey, why not post this?” things have been a little rough in my personal life lately, so i guess you can say this is sort of a vent fic? so it might be a little messy, and it got longer than i intended it to be, but i hope y’all enjoy my 1 am emo thoughts :)

You hated this city.

You hated that every time you left your house, you're bound to see something that would remind you of her. You hated that the people around you still asked you about her. You hated that she was only a five minute-drive away from you, yet you weren't able to go see her, no matter how much your heart ached for you to.

You hated this city, but this city was where you were born and grew up in, where your family and friends were, where you had met her. This city—with its roads full of traffic, its bustling streets, and its busy people—was all that you ever knew, so you couldn't just up and leave. Even if every street and corner held painful memories of her.

You used to think that this city was your home, but that was until you had met her, during your freshman year of high school. She was charming in her own way, and had a smile so dazzling you nearly mistook it for a ray of sunshine. When she turned to you, and your eyes met for the first time, you knew right then that your life was never going to be the same again. All because of her.

You had remembered reading somewhere that home wasn't necessarily a place; it could also be a person, a pair of arms that you knew you belonged in.

The closer you got with her, the more it felt like you and her were like two puzzle pieces meant to fit together perfectly. Anything and everything she said or did, even something as trivial as putting a hand on your shoulder, was able to fill you with a sense of warmth and comfort. Soon she became all that you thought about, all that you sought for when you felt lost.

Soon she became your home.

Or at least, that was what you thought.

It wasn't long before you two were practically attached by the hip, and everyone who knew either one of you would know that. Where one of you were, the other wouldn't be far behind, and the fact that she lived just a neighborhood away from you helped. It was really easy for the two of you see to each other; at first you thought of it as a convenience, but time threatened to prove you otherwise.

You didn't know what came over you when you had let the words slip past your lips. You weren't drunk, you swore you never had anything to drink prior to the incident that night. So perhaps it was the heat of the moment, just the two of you sitting on top of a hill overlooking the city, and you ended up getting intoxicated by her instead of alcohol. The light pollution was so bad, there was barely a single star visible in the night sky. The view of the city after dark, however, was almost enough to make up for the lack of starlight. It was beautiful.

She was beautiful.

Hair messy, eyes soft, lips slightly chapped, your jacket draped over her shoulders. No matter how she looked, no matter what she wore, she was never anything less than beautiful in your eyes. Added with the romantic atmosphere, had you lacked self control you would've kissed her then and there.

Thankfully though, you were still able to control your actions. But as your heart raced while you stared at her, it was a lot less easier to control your words.

"I love you."

She diverted her attention from the view to look at you, eyes wide with surprise. A silence enveloped you two once more, one that felt heavier and far less comfortable than the silence before you had uttered those three words. You watched her shift awkwardly, and suddenly you became much more aware of the cold night air biting at the bare skin of your arms and neck. Where had the warmth and comfort gone?

"I love you too, y/n," Sana said carefully. You perked up at her response, feeling a wave of relief and even joy wash over you, but it was short-lived as she continued speaking before you had the chance to interrupt her. "You're my best friend, after all."

You felt your heart sink. Had she really not understood what you meant? Or was she pretending to?

"N-No, Sana," you began, frowning. "That...That's not what I meant. Not just in that way."

To this day, you regretted ever correcting her.

Another silence ensued, this one more agonizing than the last. Your heart was racing, but not in a good way, not in the way she normally made your heart palpitate. Your eyes trained on her every movement, as she avoided your eyes and brought up a hand to rub the back of her neck.

"We...We should head back."

You didn't know what else to say or do, other than agree and walk her back to her house. The walk was, as expected, terribly awkward, neither of you saying anything throughout, and you realized that that was the first time there was any awkwardness between the two of you. You hated the feeling.

Once you reached the front of her house, she turned to you, took your jacket off, and put it on you instead. However, she still refused to meet your eyes that were practically boring holes into her. As she adjusted your jacket, she spoke, ever so softly, "You're my best friend, y/n, you really are. And...And that's all you are to me. Nothing less, nothing more."

Her words were like an arrow through your heart. Not Cupid's arrow, the one that made you feel all lovestruck and giddy, but an actual piercing arrow aimed to kill you. You stared at her blankly, searching her expression for any kind of solace.

She did offer you one, a soft smile, meant to be reassuring and comforting, but you felt neither. "I'm sorry," she continued. "You're an amazing girl y/n, I know you'll be able to find someone else. So I hope this won't change anything between us." She pulled you into a hug, and you wanted to return it had your arms not felt glued to your side, before she pulled away and walked up to her front door. Before she disappeared behind it, she shot you another smile.

Her smile was definitely not telling you that things weren't going to change.

You didn't cry then. You didn't cry on your walk back to your own place. But the second your bedroom door shut behind you, and you were met with your dark, cold bedroom, the world came collapsing down on you. You sank to your floor, and you finally let your tears out.

You didn't see her for the next couple of weeks. You avoided her at school, and refused to hang out with her after school hours. You told yourself that it was what was best for you, some time alone to grieve. But weeks turned into months, yet neither of you dared to talk to one another.

Once you did decide to make the first move, she ignored you as if you weren't right there in front of her, as if you were invisible, as if you didn't exist. She simply brushed past you while talking to a couple of other girls, and she looked...happy. After what had happened between the two of you, she was able to be happy. You could do nothing but watch as she walked further and further away from you.

When you reached your house that day, you received a text on your phone.

"Let's not waste our time fixing something that's already broken"

You felt your heart break for the millionth time since the night of your confession. She had given up on you, on your once seemingly unbreakable friendship. You couldn't blame her, though; she didn't feel the same way you did and there was nothing she could do to force herself to love you back, but even with this knowledge you ghosted her for months, as if she had conducted the biggest sin the world had ever seen. If you were in her shoes, you knew that you'd be exhausted too.

She had given up on you, and you put the blame entirely on yourself.

As you flopped down onto your bed and let your tears flow, you recalled coming across a list of beautiful words from multiple different languages once, beautiful words with even more beautiful meanings. One of them was hiraeth.

Hiraeth.

You finally understood what it meant, how it felt.

She was your home, a home you could never return to, a home that never was.

+ + +

As you drove past her neighborhood on your way to get groceries, you looked out your car window, and saw her. Your houses weren't that far, and the city wasn't that big, so it wasn't your first time coming across her by chance over the years.

But this time she walked down the street, a wide smile plastered on her face and her hand in that of another woman. The other woman was saying something, and it made her laugh. That was the happiest you had ever seen her look.

You took in a deep breath as you turned your head back to keep your eyes on the road ahead, your grip on the steering wheel tightening.

You hated this city, but it was your home. The only one you've ever known, and will ever know.

. . .

please do not repost my work, whether on tumblr or on any other site.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @sassy-sara @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane @odi-et-amo85 @watermelonlover-123

~^~

Saturday, 13:20

Song: Benny - Boys Will Be Boys

Jens watches the story again, watches a redheaded girl he doesn’t know wrap her arm around Lucas’s neck and pull him into the frame. The two of them grin cheesily at the camera, Lucas’s eyes squinted exaggeratedly, happily, as the girl hollers a ‘happy birthday’ and presses a kiss to his cheek. Next is a full shot of the party, reposted from the same girl, then a recording of Lucas’s own, with a shorter girl with a head of curls who Jens thinks is Isa, and then the boys he recognises as Kes and Jayden. All of them giving Lucas the same cheerful, enthusiastic wishes.

Happy birthday.

He had woken up to Lucas’s post, with the balloons leaving no doubt as to its purpose.

He’s startled from examining further when his door opens and Moyo slips inside, smiling easily at him and instantly flopping onto his bed. “Hey man. Oh, is that Lucas’s party? Why the fuck didn’t we know it was his birthday?”

Jens stares at him, brows raised and lips slightly parted. “What are you doing here?”

Moyo raises a brow back. “You invited me?” He gives a small laugh as Jens continues to look on in confusion. “Dude, where is your head at these days? Remember on Thursday at lunch when Lucas was talking about going home and you got all pouty so I asked if you wanted to hang out? And you said to come here?”

“Right,” Jens eventually allows. It does poke vaguely at his memories, but it’s quite unclear. Still, it isn’t as if he’s going to turn Moyo away. He has no reason to. It’s better than staring at his phone any longer. “Cool.”

Moyo snorts. “Okay, cool. I also texted you when I was leaving my house. And you didn’t reply. Which is why your mom had to let me in.”

Jens furrows his brows before drawing down the notification bar on his phone. He purses his lips when he sees the text from Moyo, wondering how he had taken on such an absentminded focus that he missed it completely. “You did.”

“But I can see you were preoccupied,” Moyo raises his brows. “Didn’t you already see them when you woke up?”

“Yeah,” Jens mumbles.

“So what’s the obsession?”

“I’m not obsessed. Just, trying to see who I know.”

Moyo snorts again. “If you know anyone other than Lucas in those dark, blurry ass shots, I think that’s a little bit obsessed. I know he’s your new favourite toy but surely you can survive without him for one day.”

Jens feels angry, suddenly. He isn’t sure if he’s right to be, knows that Moyo probably doesn’t mean anything by it, but he’s already upset and so incredibly tired. It leaves him wrinkling his nose in distaste and sitting up and away. “Why do you always have to make it out like everything is so gross? You know there’s a way to make a point without fucking making fun all the time?”

It feels surprisingly good to get it out, and where he expects regret to claw through his chest, a small stream of relief flows through him instead.

However, it leaves Moyo’s brows shooting towards his hairline. “Sorry, man. What has you so pissy?”

He sits up next to Jens, bumping his elbow gently, and now he begins to feel a little bad. Still, the upset hasn’t quite run out. “Why do you think it’s so wrong for me to care about Lucas?”

“What?” Moyo frowns. “I never said that. Lucas is cool, I’m glad we’re all friends with him.”

“He’s not my friend.”

The words slip out before Jens can stop them, and then there’s no taking them back.

Moyo’s frown melts away in his confusion as his brow furrows again. Then he lets out a small, somewhat nervous laugh. “What, are you that pissed you didn’t get to join the party?”

“I am,” Jens agrees easily, then has to pause, has to center himself. He thinks of Robbe yesterday, so happy and understanding, and of Lucas just before he left, so happy and excited, and of Moyo a year ago, laughing at the idea of anyone being bi, nose wrinkled at how ‘gross’ it appeared to him.

Then he thinks of how that was a year ago.

Then he says, “I am pissed, because my boyfriend didn’t even tell me it was his birthday and I don’t know why and because it doesn’t surprise me that the first thing you did is make fun of it.”

Moyo’s lips part, and he simply stares at him as they fall into silence. Jens looks back, trying not to let himself falter, trying not to let his fissures show or crack any further. It’s difficult, more so than he thought it would be, and he puts it down to the tumultuous feelings already raging through him after the surprises this morning. It also feels somewhat more terrifying to be voicing it in this room, under this roof. Perhaps this is where it should feel easiest, that it should be a safe place, but he finds his eyes flickering towards the door instead, making sure it’s shut tight. It’s not like it had been, wrapped up in Lucas’s warmth in their own little universe or under Robbe’s gentle gaze in a familiar setting. It’s nerve-wracking and nauseating, to listen for footsteps and watch Moyo look away from him.

Jens is inches away from pulling his hair out when Moyo finally turns back, appearing cautious as he licks his lips. “So you’re...you’re bi, or something?”

Jens’s heart clamours as he nods.

“And you’re with Lucas?”

“Just for about two weeks,” Jens says quietly.

Moyo’s brows raise, but he nods, once again licking his lips and averting his gaze. He focuses on a spot on the duvet as he speaks again. “Like...you’re into him? Like you would want to have sex with him, and everything?”

The little flicker of irritation returns. “Yeah, man, maybe, and I don’t need you telling me how it disgusts you or whatever, okay? Just—“

“I don’t think I ever want to have sex. With anyone.”

Jens snaps his mouth shut as his friend meets his gaze, surprised to have been interrupted.

He certainly hadn’t expected to be interrupted with that.

“What?”

Moyo makes himself small, hunching his shoulders slightly, but he keeps his gaze on Jens. It’s oddly full of nerves, alive with apprehension, overcast with doubt. Below it all, there’s a small hint of relief. Jens suddenly understands what’s happening.

“You don’t like sex?” he carefully pushes.

Moyo curls in on himself further, shrugging without opening his shoulders back up. “I’ve never had an actual experience to base it on, but the idea of it doesn’t actually appeal to me, no.”

All of this is admitted quietly, almost tersely as Moyo picks a thread loose in the sheet. Jens lets him, watchful and thoughtful, wondering where it is he’s supposed to take it from here. He hadn’t been prepared to come out to anyone today, but he hadn’t even considered the possibility that someone else would come out to him.

He has to admit, however, that he’s a little confused.

“But you talk about it all the time. About getting with girls, about what you’d do, and all your shitty dirty jokes?”

“That’s what we all talk about,” Moyo points out. “Aaron was whining over getting laid for months before Amber and it’s not like you’ve ever been shy about it. It’s what we’re supposed to talk about. Even Robbe isn’t as shy about it now. Like shit man, what else am I supposed to say?”

Jens eases up, letting his expression soften as he shifts slightly towards him, setting his phone aside entirely. “The truth,” he says gently. “Anything other than digging yourself into a deeper hole.”

“Yeah, because I wouldn’t have been the butt of the joke, the prude, if I just said I didn’t want to join in right?” Moyo scoffs, shaking his head as he turns to lean back against the headboard. “Don’t give me that.”

“Moyo,” Jens tries, but the words aren’t there. He knows, no matter how much it disappoints him, that his friend is right. They would have joked, and Jens would have been the main instigator.

He realises, with a sort of derisive amusement, that he’s as much the reason Moyo hadn’t come out to them as Moyo is the reason Jens hadn’t come out himself.

“I didn’t even realise what was wrong with me, why I revolted against it even while making dumb jokes or random passes. I thought it was just like, frustration, or jealousy even, that I didn’t actually have the experience. I knew that talking about it, wanting it, was the normal thing, the guy thing.”

Jens’s heart twists, and he’s instantly shaking his head back. “Bullshit. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Moyo snorts, shaking his head. He still won’t look at Jens. “Isn’t there? Fuck, I didn’t even understand it until Noor came onto me and I had to literally shove her away.”

This is another new surprising piece of information.

“Noor? Seriously?”

Moyo closes his eyes, nods his head, doesn’t say anything else. Jens remains quiet, as well, absorbing the information and giving Moyo room to think. It’s a dead sort of silence, not comfortable or awkward, but heavy. It’s only when Jens realises that Moyo isn’t going to offer anything else that he pushes a little further.

“When was that? I mean, the thing with Noor?”

Moyo shakes his head slightly, shrugging again. “Like two months ago maybe?”

“Two months?”

“I know.” Moyo purses his lips, picking at his nails as he stares down at his lap.

Jens thinks. “You’re not...forcing yourself to do anything, are you?”

Moyo finally looks at him, head whipping around as his brows knit together. “What? No. It’s not like that. Since then, she’s been helping me figure my shit out. Because I...I don’t know, I went into like this panic mood. It wasn’t even about kissing or sex it was like I realised I wasn’t attracted to her at all. Not physically. Like I know that Noor is beautiful, but it’s like I didn’t care. My mind could understand it and my body just didn’t feel it. And then I started to think about it and I’ve never actually been attracted to anyone. Not just Noor, just in general. Girls or guys. It confused the hell out of me, because I thought I did like her but I just...don’t think I can like anyone like that. Sexually.”

“Okay,” Jens nods slowly. “I’m still just not really understanding all your talk about something you have no interest in.”

“I’ve already told you. That’s what’s expected, y’know? That’s how you be a man.”

“Where is that shit coming from? Because I know it’s not your parents, and I hope it isn’t us.”

“No, not my parents, but what about the rest of my family? My uncles and even some of my cousins, I don’t know, it’s like fucking ingrained in them. I’ve ingrained it in myself. Even with you and Robbe, it’s different. They’d see it as like this minor error, but at least everything still works the same. With me it’s like...I don’t work, like this thing just isn’t there at all and—“

“Hey, hey, Moyo, woah,” Jens cuts him off, laying a placating hand on his friend’s shoulder. He waits for Moyo to steady himself, taking a deep breath with a clenched jaw, and then he gives a light tug to his shoulder. He has to do it again before Moyo actually gives in and looks at him, and then Jens keeps his expression serious. “Everything about you works whether you have sex with someone or not. Look at it like this. Your dick could be chopped right off, never able to use it, and you’d still be Moyo.”

He makes a cutting motion with his hand and then a sweep to the side as he makes a ‘phew’ noise through his teeth. It has the intended effect of making Moyo crack a smile even as he cringes, slapping Jens’s hand down with a shiver.

“And you said I make everything fucking gross, man. Jesus.”

Jens cracks, too, letting a small laugh escape as Moyo’s smile widens and his shoulders relax just so. “But it feels better, right?”

Moyo shrugs again, drawn-out and ashamed. “Still abnormal either way.”

“You’re not. You’re just asexual, I think.”

Moyo’s brows instantly shoot upwards. “You know what that is?”

Jens blinks at him. “Do you?”

“Dude, it’s been the only word in my head for weeks. Why do you know about it?”

“I kind of researched into everything when…”

He trails off, letting Moyo pick up on the implication himself, watches him purse his lips and give another nod. “Have you told anyone else?”

“Robbe, and only yesterday,” Jens admits. “You? Apart from Noor?”

Moyo purses his lips, shakes his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t react better to you actually...I mean, Jens, you know I have no problem with it right? What I said last year, it was really stupid. That’s not how I think anymore. Or at least, I’m trying not to think like that.”

“It’s okay,” Jens says softly. “I think I definitely understand a little better now. I’m sorry I haven’t made it easy for you to tell me, either.”

“We can circle back to me, okay? Right now we’re gonna talk about Lucas. You really didn’t know a thing about his birthday?”

Jens kind of wishes they could continue talking about Moyo, because in the last few minutes, he’d forgotten all about his own predicament. Now he’s forced to face it with a groan as he drags a hand over his face. “No. And I was telling myself it wasn’t that weird, because maybe it just hadn’t come up or he didn’t like celebrating or something, but now that you’re asking I feel like it’s weird.”

“Well maybe it is that. It looked kind of like a surprise party,” Moyo offers. “Maybe he just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Not with a new relationship.”

Jens isn’t quite sure why he flushes at that, but it makes Moyo’s lips tick slightly upwards. “Yeah,” he blows out a sigh, “but he also hasn’t messaged me. Like things were good yesterday before he left, and he fell asleep on the phone to me last night, and then like an hour later,” Jens makes a vague gesture, only waving his hand back and forth, but Moyo nods with a grimace.

“Maybe he’s stuck in bed. Hungover.”

“Maybe. It just freaks me out, ‘cause I know this is what he does when he’s pissed, or when something’s wrong. Gives me this radio silence. And I can’t go see him at his flat when he isn’t there.”

Moyo hums, then simply says, “Fuck. I’m kinda glad I’m not in this relationship game.”

Jens snorts, rubbing his hand over his face again as Moyo locks an arm around his shoulders and gives him a brief squeeze. “I thought Luc was going to be easier. These past few weeks have been, but,” he breaks off on a sigh, slumping back against his pillows as Moyo slips his arm out from behind him.

“You know what I think?” Moyo says. He waits for Jens to look at him before producing an unopened bag of weed. “I think you need some of your chill back.”

Jens only hesitates for a second before grinning and snatching the bag out of his hand.

[sunsetcurbed]

i’ll keep us together (whatever it takes)

Pairing: Alex/Willie  Words: 9,237 Rating: T  Warnings: none read on AO3 

Summary:  “Willie,” Julie’s voice sounds.  “Hey, Julie,” Willie greets. “I—uh—“ “Can Alex not see you?” she whispers. Okay, so… right. Right. This is a thing. (*) (or: alex has changed, and he's all but taken away from willie. willie doesn't settle for that.) I found out that apparently tumblr doesn’t post link posts in the tags unless they get a lot of notes so I’m reposting this as a text post and also posting the fic here on tumblr as well! Fic under the read more. :) 

(*)

"Hey," Willie cheers, watching as Alex walks into the garage, head hanging down. Alex doesn't look up, just walks over and flops dramatically on the couch. Willie laughs at his boyfriend, and follows over. "Hey, hot dog," he calls again. Alex still doesn't look up. Furrowing his eyebrows, Willie crouches down next to him and reaches out to shake Alex's shoulder.

His hand passes through.

Willie draws his hand back quickly in surprise, and stares down at it. He reaches again, and again, his hand passes through Alex.

He scrambles to his feet and looks around. Something's wrong. Something—he's not sure what's going on, but something…

He steps back, and back, and back, until he's standing in the middle of the studio, and rushes through the open door. He stands in the driveway for a minute, struggling with his thoughts, until—

"Willie," Julie's voice whispers.

His head snaps up and he sees her walking down the pathway from her house. They found out last year that Julie could see all ghosts, and that her power extended beyond they band in that aspect. Unfortunately, Willie didn't share their powers in becoming visible when playing an instrument, which was one of the first things they tried, right after trying to rid Willie of Caleb's stamp. Neither had worked.

"Hey, Julie," Willie greets. "I—uh—"

"Can he not see you?" she whispers.

Okay, so… right. Right. This is a thing. She already knew about it, which—

"No. Why can't he?"

Julie walks towards him and offers a smile. But it's—it's a sad smile, one that Willie knows is accompanied by bad news. Suddenly, he regrets asking. "He's alive."

What?

No, seriously, what?

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know… unfinished business. Does… do you know if 'crossing over' means back to the world of the living?"

"I—I-I don't know? I wouldn't think so? I've never see someone cross over. I just thought…"

"We did, too," Julie says. "But the guys… we signed today. With a record label."

"What? That's awesome!" Alex had mentioned Destiny Management but he hadn't said they were officially signing.

"It is," she says, but her voice doesn't sound like it. "After each one of them signed, they came back to life, though. Heart, blood, eating, sleeping, everything."

Willie shakes his head. "But they should have…"

"We always thought that when they did their unfinished business, they'd… go to heaven, or whatever. But apparently crossing over, at least for them, meant crossing over back to the living."

"So Alex…"

"He's not like me," Julie frowns. "He can't see you."

"Fuck," Willie curses. There's a noise in the studio, and Willie turns around and sees Alex through the window, walking towards the driveway. "I—I gotta go," he stammers, and then he's gone from there and landing in the sand on the beach, where he had thought he and Alex would spend their time tonight.

Fuck, he thinks. All the pain the last year and a half has brought—the battle with Caleb for his soul, the fight between them all with Caleb, defeating the man who'd held him captive for years, and finally getting to be with Alex, stress free—all that pain and stress were for nothing, weren't they? Because Willie doesn't even have Alex anymore, the person who inspired him to fight back. The person who made it worth it. The person who was there to hold him after Caleb's hold on him broke will never be able to hold him again.

Not unless—

Willie's got work to do.

(*)

The next time Willie sees Alex is at the skate park, three months after it happened. Alex is leaning on the fence, staring at the bowl with sad eyes. He watches the people in the park fly up and down the ramps, and clings to the fence with a tight fist. Willie skates out of the park and passes through the fence to stand next to Alex.

"I miss you, too," he says, knowing that Alex can't hear him. "I mean, I haven't gone to Julie's studio looking for you like you're here, but. It's different when I can see you. You're living with the memory of me. I'm living with the reality of seeing you and hearing you, but not being able to interact."

Alex looks away from the skate park and towards the beach. His fingers curl tighter around the chain link fence until his knuckles turn white.

"I'm trying for you, man," Willie says, his voice high and tight. "I don't even know if I'll become human again like you did, but it's worth a shot. Even if I don't become human, at least I'll cross over and I won't have to be alone anymore. Maybe? I don't actually know where I'd go if I didn't become human again. I might still be alone. There might not be anything waiting for me. That's not as scary as having to live for an eternity without you, though. Or, not without you, but. Like this. Having you but… not really."

Alex draws in a shaky breath, and Willie poofs to his other side to get a glimpse of his face. His eyes are wet and he's chewing his bottom lip. He's doing everything he can not to cry, and that breaks Willie.

"I'm sorry," Willie whimpers. "I know I meant it way back when, when I said we never should have met, but that was because I almost got you guys killed. Once you were better, I didn't think I could ever feel that way again. But maybe I was right, even beyond that. Maybe it would be better if we'd never met. It'd be better for you." He reaches out a hand for Alex, but quickly drops it back to his side when he remembers he can't make contact anymore. He draws in a deep breath, but it hitches involuntarily. "But we did meet. We did, and now you have to live with the consequences of that. Is that what they are? Consequences? I guess so. I wish I could undo this all. Not—not you getting a second chance at life. You deserve it. But… I wish I could undo us."

Alex releases his grip on the fence and walks forward, right through Willie. Willie spins on his heel and watches Alex take a seat on a bench a few feet away. He looks up and around and finally, the tears fall from his eyes. Willie feels sick.

"No, I don't," he says in a rush. "God, I wish I wished I could undo us but I could never willingly give you up, Alex. No matter how much it hurts. Even though you're hurting I know you'll move on. That's how it works, right? God, we were only together for a little over a year, we only knew each other for a year and a half. That's hardly a lifetime love story, right? You'll find someone better—someone alive, and… and…"

And Willie can't do this anymore.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, taking in one last look at Alex's tearful face before poofing away.

(*)

The next time, he finds Alex at his grave. At Alex's grave.

See, Alex had asked him to go with him back in January. He'd needed to see what his tombstone said (Alex Mercer / December 18th 1978 – July 21st 1995 / Your song will live on forever.) and come to terms, fully, with his death. Willie had been more than happy to go with him, to hold him through his tears as he saw that his parents had actually put something dedicated to him, even if it was as small as an acknowledgment to his music. Ever since Alex crossed over, Willie has come here a few times a month to talk to the boy, because it's easier talking to a grave than it is to a person who won't respond.

When Willie reaches the grave, Alex is just standing there, staring at the headstone. He doesn't say anything, and neither does Willie. Instead, Willie looks around for another tomb with flowers on it. When he finds one, he plucks a single flower from the bouquet and walks over to Alex's grave again, and lays the flower down on the headstone.

Alex gasps. "Hello?" he murmurs. "Is… Willie?" he asks hopefully.

Willie doesn't have the heart to ignore him, so he picks the flower up again and hands it to the boy. Alex takes it reluctantly. "I miss you," Willie says, even though he knows Alex won't hear him.

"I miss you," Alex says, and Willie blinks. "God, I—I'm not even allowed to be upset about crossing over because I… I get to be with my band, and I'm, Willie, we're fucking going on tour. We're only opening, but we're touring. They think we'll be headlining our own tour in the next year or two. How am I supposed to be upset about that, right? But I—but I am. Because I have to do it without you and that's—that's not fair. That wasn't part of the deal, right? We were supposed to be fucking ghosts together. Not… God, I feel so ripped off. Julie said she could still see you, she didn't want to tell me but didn't think it was fair to keep it from me. Why can't I? Why the fuck can't I? I was a ghost and I can't see you anymore? Just because—just because I have blood in my veins again? You made me feel alive. You brought me back to life. And now I'm in this weird pseudo life phase where I'm actually alive but I feel just like I did when I came back as a ghost. Before I met you."

He shakes his head and Willie takes a step closer. He reaches out, but before he can try to lay a hand on Alex's arm, he remembers. He drops his hand.

"Reg says I'll move on, used that stupid 'you'll never forget your first ghost' line again, but that only worked when we'd known each other for two weeks. Two weeks and I was already moping over you, and then you were taken away after an entire year, after I—after I—it's not fair," Alex huffs. "I sound like such a child but it's not. Julie and Luke got their happy ending. Fuck, even Reg has someone now. Of course it probably won't last—after all it's his third relationship in five months, but. But he has that option. And I—Ray's making us go to school to finish off senior year and this kid from chemistry asked me out but—I'm not ready for that. God, I'm scared I'll never be ready for that. Luke told me to go for it, that maybe I need to be with someone to get my mind off of you, but I know that all I'll do is compare the two of you."

Tears are falling freely from Alex's eyes, and Willie wants nothing more than to reach up and brush them away, just like he did the last time they were at this grave together. He takes the flower from Alex's hand, plucks a petal off, and uses it as a towel to wipe Alex's face dry. Alex tosses his head back and laughs.

"Thank you," he says. He's quiet for a long moment, and Willie thinks he said everything that needed to be said. But then he draws in a deep breath. "I… I think one of the worst parts is that I never got to say goodbye. That I'll never get closure. Did you get as much out of our relationship as I did? Was it worth it to you? Are you hurting, too?" He pauses. His voice drops in to a whisper as he asks, "did you love me like I loved you?"

Willie frowns, and hands the flower back to Alex. Alex wraps his fingers around the stem, and toys with the petals with his other hand.

"See, I don't even know what you're trying to say, here," Alex admits. "I'm hoping you're saying yes, but maybe you're not. What if you're not even Willie, just a kind ghost who noticed I needed someone?" Willie grabs the flower out of Alex's hand, raises it up, and bonks Alex's forehead with it. "Okay, maybe not," he says, and there's a laugh in his voice, but there are tears in his eyes. He laughs then, but it comes out as a sob instead and he stumbles back. "Fuck," he says slowly.

Willie twirls the flower between his fingers and watches as Alex just… stares. He's just staring at the flower, disbelieving.

"I… God, I'm so relieved you're here, but it hurts so bad that I can't see you, you know? But—do you have it any easier? Being able to see me and hear me but knowing I can't see or hear or feel you? I feel like that'd be just as hard. I remember how helpless I felt when I was a ghost. This isn't—this isn't fair. Last year we had eternity together. And—that just gets ripped away? Do you even care—" Willie hits him with the flower again. "—okay. So you do. We both cared. So much. And… now look at us. I'm essentially talking to myself, on the verge of a panic attack, and you're… You're visiting my grave. I'm visiting my grave. Fuck this is all so fucked. I miss you."

Willie hands the flower back to Alex, hoping that he'll pick up that Willie misses him too.

Alex stares at the petals and draws in a breath. "I just wish—"

"Hey, mijo," a new voice comes in. Willie whips around to see the approaching figure, a tall, slim man with greying hair. He recognizes him as Julie's dad, and while he's never directly interacted with the man, hanging around with Alex and the band so much last year meant he could at least pick him out of a crowd. Julie's dad walks up beside Alex and looks down at the head stone. "Wow, that's really you."

Alex laughs. "Yeah. I really died. That's why I come here. To remind myself my entire experience as a ghost wasn't some weird fever dream. That it…" he looks down at the flower and holds it up to Julie's dad. "That it was all real."

"That'd be some fever dream," Julie's dad chuckles, clapping a hand on Alex's shoulder. For a moment, Willie expects the man's hand to pass right through, but when it doesn't, he cringes. Yet another reminder. "Are you ready to go, then?"

"Yeah, thanks for coming to get me. Can I just have one more minute? I'll meet you at the car?"

"Of course, mijo."

Julie's dad walks away and Alex stares at his headstone. "I miss you, Willie. I hope you run into me again," he says with a light in his voice, and Willie is taken back to their very first meeting. He reaches for the flower and takes it from Alex, bopping his face one more time. Then he passes the flower back, and Alex looks at it with wonderment on his face. "Bye," he murmurs, and then turns to walk towards the parked car waiting for him.

Willie waits until Alex slides into the passenger seat and shuts the door before drawing in a shaky breath and poofing away.

(*)

He can't stay away after that.

He knows Alex is living with Julie now (the Molinas, according to the painted stone next to their porch) so he stops by after school hours to just… see him. Alex, of course, has no idea that he's there, at least not at first. But then Willie starts to get bolder.

Alex will be sat at the dining room table doing his homework and Willie will see him answer a calculus problem wrong. When Alex walks away for a snack, Willie will take a piece of notebook paper out and redo the problem(s). When Alex gets back he looks around with a frown. He clearly isn't sure if it's Willie or not, and Willie's not sure he wants him to know, not until a few weeks in when he finds Alex crying in the studio. He's clearly on the verge of a panic attack, something that Willie'd seen many times, and helped him through multiple times. He's never felt so helpless, watching Alex breaking down and not being able to do anything.

He can, though, he realizes.

He goes into Alex's notebook and grabs a pen.

Hey, hot dog.

Alex drags in a shaky breath when the pen starts moving by itself, and once he reads the message he lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. "Willie," he whispers.

What can I do to help?

Alex smiles at the paper. "Nothing, you're—you being here helps."

Do you need to do breathing exercises? You can follow the pen.

"No," Alex shakes his head. "No, I'm good. Just—just talk to me?"

Can't talk. How's writing?

He rolls his eyes. "You know what I meant, asshole."

Guilty.

"How have you been? Where have you been? Why is this the first time you're—that you've actually contacted me?"

I've been around. I'd say correcting your calc homework counts as contacting you. It's me saying "wow you suck at math, which you've told me in the past but now I have hardcore proof."

He can't tell him that he's been trying to work out his unfinished business. He can't give Alex hope where there might not be any—not when there's no promise that Willie will figure out his unfinished business, and not when there's no promise he'll come back to life. He wants Alex to know he's trying—trying for him, but it's not fair. None of this is fair, but that'd be… really unfair to Alex. Especially if he's sitting here hoping for Willie to come back to life and one day he realizes it's been months since he's heard from Willie and Willie has no way to tell him that he's crossed over, but not to the living. It's all… it's too complicated. Willie doesn't even think he'd be able to put it into words.

"Hey, I've been doing pretty good in calc!" Alex yells. "I have a B, thanks."

"Thanks." You're welcome. I'm the reason you have a B.

Alex opens his mouth, then shuts it. "You know, you're probably right. You working out those problems is actually really helpful and helps me understand what I did wrong."

I've always needed to see someone do the math before I got it, maybe you're the same.

"Probably." Alex sighs, running his hands through his hair. He's stopped crying, but his face is still red and puffy, and his breathing is still labored. "How have you been though? I… you can see me, I can't see you. Are you okay?"

I miss you, but that's to be expected.  Life  Death has been a lot lately. I'm  surviving  okay though.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Alex asks, voice genuine. Willie bites his lip. God, he—this is why he fell in love with this boy. Even on the verge of a panic attack he wants to help someone else.

No. You being here helps.

"Hey, that's my line."

I'm stealing it.

Alex laughs, and his breath evens out a little bit. "Should have known, you can't be as smooth as me."

I'm sorry, who had the gay panic when we met? And every time we saw each other for literally the next four months? Who RAN AWAY after kissing me? You want to talk about smooth?

"Those were very weak moments in my life, I ask you to forget everything before we started dating and only remember me as charming."

Oh, trust me, the gay panic was very charming, too.

"See, maybe it was all a ploy. My gay panic was me being smooth."

I wouldn't take it that far.

"Too late you already admitted it."

Willie laughs and reaches for Alex's hand, forgetting for just a moment. It passes through the other boy and he grimaces. He draws his hand back and tucks his hair behind his ear, and stares at the paper in front of him.

So what's it like recording an album? Everything you ever dreamed of?

"Oh, man, it's so cool," Alex gushes. Words fly out his mouth so fast that Willie struggles to keep up, but he just lets Alex's voice wash over him. The switch has been flipped—Alex is no longer panicking, and Willie's loneliness has ebbed.

It carries on like this for nearly an hour, Willie fills up two and a half sheets of paper, and Alex is careful to fold each one and stick it in his pocket. Willie knows he'll be storing them somewhere in his room. It's what Willie would do, anyways, and in certain regards, Alex and Willie are very similar. He's careful not to reveal too much to Alex, though. He doesn't want Alex to feel guilty, or to cling to hope, or…

He doesn't want to tell Alex he loves him on a sheet of paper. He can't do that to either of them—that'd be giving Alex too much to cling to, and it'd be taking away Willie's dream of telling him face to face. So when it's time for them to say goodbye (Alex looks at the clock, frowning. "The band is gonna be here in ten minutes for practice.") Willie simply scribbles down I'll see you around, hot dog. Alex's face goes soft, and Willie can't stop staring at it.

He wishes he could stay for band practice, but he can't face Julie. He can't, not when it'd break him to be able to talk with her and not the one person he really wants to talk to. He also thinks it might be too hard on Alex, to see Julie see Willie, and know that he can't. It'd be too hard on both of them, so once Alex says goodbye, he poofs away. He ends up on the streets of Hollywood and looks around. He sets his skateboard on the ground and skates off, aimlessly.

He has nowhere to go, nowhere to be.

(*)

Willie keeps correcting his calc homework, but now Alex knows who it is and starts thanking him. They have a few more half-written, half-spoken conversations over the next few months, but Willie tries to limit them so Alex doesn't get too attached.

(He laughs as he thinks that, understanding that Alex has always been attached, and interacting with him is only encouraging that. But Willie can't stay away, okay?)

He sees Luke and Reggie some, after all, the boys spend a lot of time in the studio together, especially when Julie is hanging out with Flynn. Willie never talks to Alex at these times, but sometimes he'll speak out loud, answer parts of the conversation that the guys are having, even though he knows they can't hear him.

(Yeah, okay, he's dangerously attached, too.)

He avoids Julie at all costs, he doesn't want her to know, and he knows Alex hasn't told any of them because Alex has said he hasn't told any of them, so. Willie believes him and knows why. Because Alex knows Julie would ask Willie to let Alex move on, and… honestly, neither Alex or Willie are ready for that.

"Technically you're still my boyfriend," Alex says one day. "We never broke up."

It's almost our two year anniversary.

"Yeah," Alex nods. "Two more months. God, it's been nine months without you?"

Not technically without me. I've been around a lot.

"It's been nine months since I last saw you," he amends. He rubs his eyes. "That's too damn long."

It's been nine months since I've held your hand. :(

Alex shakes his head. "I always felt bad for Julie and Luke, but… I never… it never clicked how hard it must have been before she could touch us. At least she could see and talk to us, though. Why can't I have her powers?"

Would her powers really be worth it? Because I can tell you that it SUCKS being able to see you but not being able to touch you. It's torture.

"Maybe you only say that because you've never had to sit alone talking to a piece of notebook paper before," Alex shoots back, but he's smiling.

He's been doing that a lot lately. Smiling. Willie knows it's because of him—he knows Alex and it's not hard to put two and two together. It's hard to miss the way Alex physically brightens every time he knows Willie is there, and the way he reaches for calculus homework before anything else, and leaves his calculus out sitting next to him when he's working on all of his other homework, as if calling for Willie. It works, too, most of the time. When Willie's not out trying to resolve his unfinished business, he's around the Molina household, avoiding Julie.

That had created an issue—Alex quickly realized that Willie disappeared whenever Julie came around, so he stopped hanging around Julie as much. Julie had tried apologizing for "whatever I did, Alex, I'm so sorry." Alex had to patiently tell her that it was nothing—he was just dealing with some personal problems and he ran away from the guys, too. She had tried to offer help, but he said he dealt better with problems on his own, which Willie laughed at when Alex recounted the conversation because Alex was helpless dealing with his issues alone. He told him as much and Alex flipped off the air in front of him.

This piece of notebook paper is offended. What's so bad about talking to notebook paper?

"I can't kiss a sheet of notebook paper," Alex points out. "Well—technically I could. Don't think it'd measure up to kissing my boyfriend, though."

Willie grins. It's impossible, and he knows he can't let it go on like this for much longer—it's been nine months of trying to figure out his unfinished business and he feels no closer than when he started—but it feels so good to be Alex's boyfriend still. He puts the pen to the piece of paper, and then picks it back up because—no. He still can't tell Alex he loves him. He's planning to leave Alex a note once it hits a year, telling him goodbye and asking him to move on. He'll be doubling his efforts to try and solve his unfinished business in the mean time, but he thinks—how cruel would it be to leave Alex with the knowledge that he lost someone who loved him, too? Because Alex has said he loved Willie—back Alex's grave he had asked if Willie loved him too and.

You wouldn't be able to kiss air, either.

"I could certainly try."

Willie shakes his head fondly, and then hears the studio door open. Alex lunges forward and grabs the pen out of the air, but it's pointless because when Willie turns around, it's Julie standing there. Her eyes are wide and her jaw is dropped.

"Hey, Julie," Alex greets. "What're you doing?"

"I left a song out here that I wanted to show Flynn," she says. "What are you doing?" She aims her voice like she's talking to Alex, but she's staring at Willie.

"Homework," Alex answers.

"Really?" she quirks an eyebrow.

"What else would I be doing?"

"I don't know, care to tell me?" This time, it's one hundred percent directed at Willie, and he flinches.

Alex frowns, still playing the part. "I don't—"

"Not you," Julie cuts Alex off.

"Julie…" Alex sighs. "Just leave him be."

"Can I talk to you outside?" There's no question who she's talking to.

Willie gets to his feet and walks out the door. Alex glares at her from where he's sitting on the couch, and flops back on to the cushions, crossing his arms in a pout.

Julie turns around and marches out to the driveway and whirls on Willie when he gets out there. "This isn't fair to him."

"None of this is fair, Julie," Willie says. "We're dealing the only way we know how."

"He—he said he was moving on. He said he was doing better!"

"He… technically is doing better," Willie says. "Maybe not moving on, but—"

"Willie, you need to let him go," Julie frowns.

"That's not your choice to make," Alex's voice comes from the studio doors. He pushes the door open and steps out. "I get you want to help, but leaving me and Willie be would be the best thing you could do to help."

"Alex…" Julie whispers. "It's not fair to you."

"You think I don't know that? You think the fact that Willie is dead and I'm alive has escaped my notice? Because it hasn't. I have to talk to a sheet of notebook paper to have a conversation with him. I have to guess when he'll appear, and hope each day that he will. I don't get to see him smile, or look at me, and I can't hold his hand, and I can't feel him against me. But despite that, I'm happy with him. Isn't that what you should be focusing on?"

Julie sucks in a breath. "Alex—"

"Julie," Alex cuts her off. "I understand where you're coming from. The amount of times I told Luke falling for you was a horrible decision, but he reminded me it wasn't a decision. You can't pick and choose who you love, and… I'm willing to go through this for Willie, okay? You can't protect me from everything, and I'd never ask you to. I am asking you to leave this be."

She looks away from Alex, and turns to Willie. "Are you really okay with how this is going?"

"I… For now," Willie answers. "I've been trying to figure out my unfinished business to see if I'll come back to life, too. It's all I've been doing when I'm not with Alex for the last nine months. If I can't figure it out within the year since Alex came back to life I am going to stop this, okay Julie? I don't want him to hurt. I'll tell him to move on, I'll tell him that I can't do it anymore, but until then, I want to be there for him. These may be our last months together," Willie whispers. "Please don't take that from us."

Julie sighs, long and loud, but her shoulders drop. "Fine," she says, throwing her hands up. "Whatever. I—I just don't want you guys hurting."

"If you think Willie being here hurts me, clearly you don't remember you and Luke in the early days."

"I do, though. I remember how much it sucked when I reached out and my hand went right through him. I remember thinking that we could never be together—even once I could touch you guys, it still… sucked. Alex, I do remember the early days, and that's why I just… I just don't want you hurting. And… falling in love with a ghost when you're human… it hurts."

"But it's also worth it," Alex reminds her. "You turned down Nick, even when you couldn't touch Luke. Because you knew it was worth it. Even thinking you were going to lose Luke, you still chose him. And I'm choosing Willie, even though I know I could lose him. Even though it sucks that he's a ghost. Willie is worth it."

Julie looks at Willie. "Is this worth it?"

Willie nods. "I might have to say goodbye soon, but it's not like we're making bad memories. Alex and I won't live to regret the time we had together if this doesn't work out. And it might take us time to move on, but this will never not be worth it."

Julie narrows her eyes. "Does he know?"

"Know? About the unfinished business?" Willie asks. "No. I don't want to get his hopes up."

"Good. Keep it that way."

"Keep what, what way?" Alex demands, looking between Julie and the space of air she's looking at.

"Something I can't tell you," Julie says, still looking at Willie. "Willie wants to keep it quiet, too. Hopefully I can tell you one day, but until that day comes, it's mine and Willie's secret. It's for the better."

"Didn't we just decide you don't know what's best for me?" Alex huffs.

"Not in this case," Willie says.

"Willie says 'not in this case,'" Julie translates. "Just… be careful both of you, alright? You know I love you both, right?"

Alex leans back against the studio door and crosses his arms, frowning. "I know, Jules. I love you, too. And I appreciate your thoughts and wanting me to be okay, but, really. We're fine."

"Yeah," Willie says. "If I can't figure out my unfinished business I'll stop by and say goodbye to you, too."

"Alright," Julie nods. "Let me just grab that song and then you two can get back to your… date."

Willie smiles at her. He can feel on his face that it's not a full smile, that it's sad, and that it's not reaching his eyes, but… he is sad. Vocalizing his plan, to Julie no less, has made it permanent. He really only has three months to figure out his unfinished business.

It doesn't feel like enough time. Looking back to Alex, he knows it's not.

He'll never be ready to say goodbye.

(*)

His time is up.

It's been an entire year, almost to the day (he gave himself one extra week) since Alex came back to life, and Willie is here to leave Alex. He's kneeling next to where Alex is sleeping on the studio's couch, looking so relaxed and content, and Willie… he's glad he prepared beforehand. He pulls the piece of notebook paper out of his pocked and places it on the table, Alex's name in bold pen on the top.

He wrote his note before he came to see Alex, knowing that he won't have the courage to write it down when he's looking at the other boy. Especially not if Alex is watching him. No, that's… he could never do that, not when he could see the look on Alex's face. So, the idea is, in and out, leave the note somewhere for Alex to find, and never look back.

The last part is going to be the hardest.

However, he's promised himself that he won't go looking for Alex or the others anymore. Not after tonight. He's letting Alex move on, but he needs to let himself move on, too. Alex will find someone else to love, and Willie… if nothing else, he should give himself the chance to find someone else to love. Not that he'll ever really feel confident again, knowing that one of them could cross over at any minute, leaving him just as heartbroken as he is now. But… it was worth it with Alex. He can't imagine how it ever wouldn't be worth it, even as he has to say goodbye now. Alex will always be worth it, and he can't be sorry for holding on as long as he did. The time he got to spend with him has given him enough courage to say goodbye… just… there's one more thing he wants to say, that he couldn't say in his note.

"I love you," Willie whispers, reaching down to stroke Alex's hair, but freezing before he could. He's not in the right mindset to have his hand pass through Alex, not again, not right now, when he feels the cramping in his chest from the pain of this moment. Not when it's been over a year and he still hasn't figured out his unfinished business. Not when he doesn't think he ever will. There's so much he's tried, so much he's done, and he's not sure what more there is to do. He's held on to this for far too long, and he thinks it's time to let go. He doesn't want his last memory of Alex to be his hand disappearing through the boy's body. "I'm so sorry I couldn't do better for you."

There's a clench in his stomach as he thinks about all he's gone through this past year. Practicing all the moves he wanted to perfect before he died. Returning to his childhood home and making connections with his family, apologizing for leaving them, apologizing for not being a better son. Visiting his older sister who ran away when he was younger. Tracking down the person who killed him from all of the newspaper articles and forgiving them. Going to his college and sitting in on all of the classes that he skipped out on when he was a student. Going back to Caleb's club and apologizing to all those he led there. Visiting the graves of all of his family members that he never got to say goodbye to. Visiting his grave and forgiving himself for his mistake.

Yet here he stands, still a ghost.

Truthfully, he didn't care if he crossed over to the living or crossed over to heaven. He just… didn't want to be here anymore. In this limbo between the living and the dead. Skating the streets of Hollywood was fun, but with Caleb gone, with the Ghost Club in his past, with Alex living… skating was all he had, and it wasn't enough to hold him to this… "life" that he was living. He just wanted it to be over—he just wanted to move on. He doesn't care what that means anymore. Just… not like this. Not this. He can't be stuck like this for eternity. He can't.

He shoves himself to his feet in a rush and walks to the door, forcing himself to not look back. It's time to move on—time to let Alex move on. Like Alex says, it's not fair, and Willie's just making it harder on both of them. If he hasn't figured out his unfinished business by now, he's not going to. Maybe he already missed his opportunity, maybe it's something that's waiting for him in the future, maybe it's—

Ow.

Willie looks up from where he landed on the floor, and sends a glare at the door. There's a noise from up in the loft and Reggie's laugh sounds through the studio. "Dude, did you just walk into the door? I know you can do dumb things when you just wake up, but come on."

Willie looks up at the loft and blinks.

Wait.

He walked into the door.

"Reggie?" he calls tentatively.

The boy pops his head out of the fence in the loft, jaw dropped. "Willie?"

"You can—you can see me?" Willie breathes, turning around on the floor and looking between Alex and Reggie. Thing one: he couldn't walk through the door. Thing two: Reggie could hear him walk into the door. Thing three: Reggie could see him.

"Alex!" Reggie screeches, throwing a box of picks down from the loft and at the couch. "Alex!"

Alex flinches when the box of picks lands right next to his head and groans. "Dude, what the fuck?" he asks, picking up the box and looking at it. "Why the fuck?"

"I'm sorry, but you're going to love me in a second because sit your butt up and look at the door."

"What are you talking about?" Alex demands as he sits up and rubs at his eyes. He looks up at the loft first, but Reggie's head peaking down at the door must interest him, because Willie looks away from Reggie at the same time Alex does, and their eyes meet. "Willie?" he whispers.

"Alex," he breathes out with a laugh. Alex is up and off the couch and striding towards him in one motion, dropping next to him with a loud thud of his knees hitting the concrete. Willie reaches towards him cautiously. He curls a hand around Alex's face, tracing his cheekbone with his thumb and laughs. "Oh my god."

Alex lunges forward and tackles Willie into a hug, holding him tight as they both start to cry.

"Hold on, hold on!" Reggie wails, footsteps thundering as he rushes down the loft stairs. "Remember, I can't poof out anymore, and I don't want to see what's going to happen next, just give me a minute to—okay, carry on," he finishes, and then the studio door clicks shut and Alex crashes his mouth to Willie's with no hesitance.

Willie gasps, and takes a moment to adjust to the feeling of Alex's mouth on his again, but after a moment, he pushes back into Alex and gives back as good as he's getting. It's easy to fall back into this, really. It's not like Willie forgot how Alex kisses, and he highly doubts Alex has forgotten how Willie kisses, so it's easy for the two of them to give and take, to push and pull. There's no learning involved, just coming home.

Alex's breath hitches and he pulls away quickly, shoving his face into Willie's neck. "Oh my god," Willie hears him whisper. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Please tell me I'm not dreaming?" he begs.

"You're not dreaming," Willie grins, holding Alex tighter.

"Yeah, but that's something dream you would say," Alex says, pulling away from Willie's neck and looking into his eyes. Alex's eyes are red and the area around them is swelling, and Willie swears he's never looked more beautiful. He lifts a hand and cups Alex's face. "Punch me."

"Wh—babe, no," he laughs, wiping the tears from Alex's face. "Punch yourself."

He's not expecting Alex to pull back and smash his fist into his forearm. "That wasn't hard enough, you've gotta—wait. My knees. The concrete hurt them. Can you dream pain? Is that a thing? Oh my god, I don't know enough about dreams, I—"

"Alex," Willie murmurs, leaning forward. "You're not dreaming. You've always trusted me, yeah? Trust me now." He presses his lips gently to Alex's, and feels Alex's lips quirk up in a smile.

He pulls back. "If I wake up from this you're so dead."

"Well, technically, if this was a dream, you'd be completely right. But right now I'm so alive." Willie pauses. "I think? I couldn't walk through the door and now you guys can see me and touch me and—"

Alex cuts him off with a kiss. After a few seconds he releases Willie's lips and sits back and closes a hand around Willie's wrist, pressing two fingers to where Willie's pulse point would be. Alex stares at his hand in amazement, and another smile spreads on his face. "You're alive."

"I am?" he asks, breathless.

"Yes, dude. What was? What was your unfinished business?"

"I don't—I don't know. The last thing I did was visit you. I've been trying to figure it out for the last year but nothing worked. Then… Wait."

"What?"

Willie feels blood rush to his face and wow isn't that a feeling. But, no. Not the point right now. He twists his wrist in Alex's hold and slips his hand down to hold Alex's. "The last thing I did was, um, tell you I love you."

"Falling in love was your unfinished business?"

"No," Willie shakes his head. "Otherwise I would have come back like, two years ago. Unless—did I really have to say it?"

"Unfinished business is weird, we were technically signed with Destiny Management for two months before we actually signed the papers, but I didn't actually come back until I signed the legit contract," Alex explains. He smiles at Willie, and then his expression drops. "Wait. You're in love with me?"

Willie feels his face soften. "I've been in love with you."

"Was it—was it you at my grave? A few months ago I—I know I could have asked you when you started writing to me but I was so scared—"

"It was me," Willie nods. "I can't believe you tried to suggest I didn't care—"

"I didn't—I couldn't—I just—everything sucked, I was doubting everything and the further I got away from you the more I was convinced that you didn't feel the same. I mean, you hadn't come to visit once—"

"I saw you at the skate park before that." He squeezes Alex hand. He lifts up their entwined fingers and presses a kiss to the back of Alex's hand. "You looked… you were so sad, and it hurt so much to talk to you. At first I thought it was better for both of us if I didn't… encourage it. I lost that plan, though. I was trying to figure out my unfinished business but I just wanted you to be happy."

"You make me happy."

Willie grins. "You make me happy too, hot dog."

Alex blushes and goes back to hiding his face in Willie's shoulder.

"Hey, have you tried hot dogs since you came back to life?"

"No," Alex laughs, then moves his head up to press a kiss to Willie's collarbone. He leans back, away from Willie's body so he can look him in the eyes. "I don't think I ever will."

"Yeah, well I'm stopping at every cross walk, even if the walk sign is on," Willie says. "What kills you makes you reevaluate your life choices."

"What kills you makes you smarter," Alex grins.

"Then why did you need me to help you pass calculus?" Willie teases.

Alex rolls his eyes and shoves at Willie, who reaches forward to grab Alex's bicep to stabilize him. "What are you doing here, man? You haven't been here in almost a month. I've been waiting for you."

Willie bites his lip and looks at the ground. "I was here to say goodbye. I gave myself one year to figure out my unfinished business and then I'd let us both move on. That—that's what I told Julie that night. That's what you couldn't know."

Alex breathes out, staring at Willie without blinking. His eyes start filling with tears and he lets out a mirthless laugh. "Well thank fuck you decided to tell me you loved me."

"Yeah," Willie nods. "Thank fuck."

(*)

They walk into the Molina household hand in hand, Alex murmuring things along the way, and Willie just listening, but mostly reveling in the feel of Alex's hand in his again.

"Ah, mijo!" Julie's dad exclaims happily. "Just in time, I was about to send Reggie out—who's this?"

Alex shifts, squeezes Willie's hand, and draws in a breath. "Ray, this is Willie. He's—do you remember how we told you I was dating a ghost before I came back to life?"

Ray (apparently) nods. "I do."

"This is him."

Ray's eyes narrow. "He came back to life, too?"

"He did. And he doesn't have anywhere to go right now, could he stay, at least in the studio? We'll find his family soon, but—"

"Alex," Ray cuts the boy off. "Of course." He looks to Willie. "Do you like tacos?"

Willie nods slowly. "Yes, sir."

Ray shakes his head. "None of that 'sir' stuff, Willie. Just Ray works. Let me go find another chair, and you can join us for dinner, bueno?"

"I—thank you," Willie says, genuinely taken aback by Ray's openness.

"Alright, the rest of the family is in the dining room, why don't you two go join them, I'm just going to grab a chair out of my office," he tells them, and then disappears around the corner.

Alex squeezes Willie's hand and smiles down at him. "Ready?"

Willie laughs. "For what?"

Alex grins and walks forward, tugging Willie along behind him. They walk through the kitchen and Willie can see the entire group as they make their way to the table—Julie's little brother (Carlos, he thinks) is sitting at the head of the table, talking rapidly with Reggie, who is sitting with his back to Willie and Alex. Julie's friend (Flynn, he's sure of that one) is sitting next to Reggie and he can tell from her posture that she's bent over her phone. Beside her, there's an open chair squeezed into the small space which Willie assumes is meant for Alex. Across the table, with their heads ducked together and talking in quiet tones are Julie and Luke, completely unaware to their presence. At least until Alex clears his throat.

Everyone looks at them, then. Reggie and Flynn turn in their seats, and Julie and Luke look up, confused. Carlos stares at Willie with a calculating look, and—

"Oh my god!" Julie screeches, shoving out of her chair so fast that she knocks it back into the window. She runs around the table and into the kitchen before launching herself at Willie. "You did it!"

Willie laughs but once Alex drops his hand, he holds on to her tightly. Despite being able to interact with her face to face for the last two and a half years, he's never got to touch her. She became one of his closest friends, but he'd never been able to give her a hug, and they're both tactile people. The entire group is, really. So he squeezes her tighter and breathes in her scent and savors in the feeling of being hugged by her. "I did," he says into her hair. "Thank you for giving me the chance."

"Of course," she says as she pulls away, but her hands don't leave him, just slide down to hold on to his forearms. "What was it?"

Alex grins from next to Willie and leans in to Julie's view. "He had to tell me he loved me."

"It took you guys two years to say I love you?" Luke says, and Willie notices him standing a few feet behind Julie. "Dude—"

"Not all of us say 'I love you' after the first date, Luke," Alex shoots back.

"But two years?"

"We were separated for one of those."

"But two years?"

"Leave them be," Julie tells him, finally dropping Willie's arms and spinning around to face her boyfriend. "It still took you months to work up the courage to ask me out. Willie asked Alex out as soon as he was free from Caleb." Willie wants to tell her that Alex had actually kissed him and ran away before Willie asked the boy out, but with a glance at Alex, who was glaring at him knowingly, he decides to save the story for another time. "At least they've got that sorted out."

Luke rolls his eyes and steps around Julie to clap a hand into Willie's. He bumps their shoulders together and grins, a trademark lopsided Luke grin. "I'm glad to see you, man."

"Me too!" Reggie cries from in back of the group. "Sorry I ran out of the studio on you guys, but I didn't—"

"You knew?" Julie gasps.

"Well, yeah? Why'd you think I ran in from the studio?"

"Considering you grabbed food, we thought you wanted a snack," Flynn says, and Reggie looks like he's considering her words before he shrugs. She turns to Willie. "I'm Flynn. Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Same," Willie says, leaning forward to shake her hand. "We've technically met, but you never got to see me."

"So you were a ghost, too?" Carlos calls from where he's still sitting at the dining room table. Ray is sitting at the other end now, too, having squeezed in another chair on the side where Julie and Luke had been sitting. It was a wheelie computer chair and as soon as Flynn saw it she dove for it with a cry of 'dibs,' sending her and the chair flying back into the wall.

"I was," Willie confirms, following the rest of the group as they make their way back to the dining room.

"Cool," Carlos breathes.

"Yeah, super cool," Julie rolls her eyes, ruffling her brother's hair. "Dying is so cool."

"Hey, he's alive again," Carlos shoots back. "So I can say it's cool."

"Can't argue that logic," Reggie grins.

"I also agree it's cool," Alex says, and sends Willie a soft smile.

"Yeah, yeah, we know, you're happy to have your boyfriend back," Flynn waves her hand through the air as she scooches back to the table. "But can we get to the tacos now?"

"I hope you like tacos," Luke says, reaching for a hard shell with one hand and the taco meat with the other. "Because they're gonna be your first taste of food in—wait, when did you die?"

"Seven, eight years ago. 2015."

"How old are you?" Julie asks.

"With or without the ghost years?"

"Without. That's what's going on your birth certificate."

"I was a month shy of turning twenty. I was born a month before you three," he says, nodding at each of the boys individually, "died in '95."

"It's a good thing we died, then," Alex says, waiting patiently for the rest of the table to make their tacos before he makes his own. "Never would have met you, otherwise. Or if I did…"

"We don't think about that," Luke says. "Otherwise we have to talk about how much older I am that Julie and that—that doesn't work."

"How much older than Julie are you?" Carlos asks.

Luke turns a mock glare on the kid. "Did you not hear what I just said? We don't think about that."

Reggie leans towards Carlos and stage whispers, "twenty six years."

Carlos looks absolutely gleeful. "Ha! Dad, did you know that?"

Ray sighs. "I did, Carlos. Eat your food."

"You're old," Carlos hisses at Luke.

"You're a child," Luke taunts back. Even through their tones, Willie can tell this group is a family. Luke is Carlos' older sister's boyfriend, yes, but his role as a pseudo brother to Carlos is just as important as his role as Julie's boyfriend. Reggie clearly adores the kid and Willie's sure their relationship is even closer than that of Carlos and Luke's. He looks at Alex, who is looking down the table at Carlos with fond eyes, and realizes that even Alex is this kid's brother. Alex is Julie's brother. He's Ray's son. He's not just living here, he's a piece of this family, and Willie is at a meet the family dinner, even if he already knew more than half of them. His eyes flick to Ray and suddenly he wants to make a good impression.

Alex must be able to feel him tense up, so he reaches over and lays a hand on Willie's thigh. He leans in. "What's wrong?"

Willie looks at him, looks around the table again, and settles on Ray again, who is giving him a look that's nearly as concerned as the one on Alex's face.

It's been ten minutes and he thinks he's a part of this family, too.

He smiles at Ray, who returns it, and then Willie turns to Alex. "Nothing. I'm good. But hey, I love you."

Alex smiles. He presses a kiss to Willie's cheek. "I love you, too."

[starlocked01]

Do You Love the Color of the Sky

(pls don’t scroll it’s not that post)

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Not being able to see green must suck, but Patton pitied his soulmate more for being stuck with him.

Content Warning: Swearing, Food

Day 26 Queerplatonic Intruality, background Logince-  You can't see shades of your soulmate's eye color until you meet and look into each other's eyes for the first time.

Do you love the color of the sky?

Patton scrolled through the ridiculously long post and sighed. He liked most of them but the shades of blue always looked so dull. A lot of people reposted this particular picture set because it was the easiest way to tell what color eyes your soulmate has. Which led to a lot of bored scrolling.

If not for the lack of blue in his life, Patton would have assumed he didn't have a soulmate. It just didn't make sense to him as a concept. He loved all his friends and cared about the people he met in his day to day life, he didn’t feel like anything was particularly missing.

Other than the color blue, that is. He stared at his own green eyes and chuckled sadly. His poor soulmate had never seen summer leaves or blades of grass, probably never liked Luigi as a character, hated driving, and wouldn't recognize Patton's pride flags. Patton had learned about the aromantic spectrum and a lot of his feelings had clicked into place. Romance just wasn't his thing and he was happy. He did worry about disappointing his blue-eyed soulmate. How awful to be tied with someone who won't love you romantically.

Patton's best friend since middle school had managed to find his brown-eyed soulmate at a local cafe. Logan didn't say much but Patton could tell he was ecstatic under the calm exterior. And from the sound of it, Roman was quite the romantic which flustered Logan. Patton was happy for them, really.

"You know, Pat, I could try to set you up on a blind date," Patton looked up at Roman with confusion.

"Oh no, they're blind?" Patton couldn't imagine not being able to see at all.

"Why would you suggest that, Roman. His eyes are only green," Logan interjected from the kitchen where he was preparing dinner for his soulmate and friend. Roman had been the one who insisted on inviting Patton and this idea was probably the reason why.

"No, they aren't blind. A blind date is when you go on a date with someone you haven't met before. I could set everything up! I've got the perfect man in mind-" Roman started rambling excitedly.

"Don't tell me it's your brother," Logan scolded.

"It's my brother, but that's not the point!"

"Don't you think you've put Remus through enough humiliation?" Logan turned, shaking a wooden spoon at Roman menacingly.

"I mean, I doubt he's my soulmate and I'll probably disappoint him, but I'll meet your brother if he's okay with it," Patton fiddled with the napkin holder, trying to diffuse the argument by agreeing. What did he have to lose?

"Fantastic! I'll call him right now!" Roman jumped up from the table, phone in hand.

"Roman! Dinner's almost done, just leave it alone!" Logan called with an exasperated sigh, "sorry, Patton. He does this to everyone."

"It's fine, Lo. A low-pressure date might be nice?" Patton shrugged.

Roman had the whole date set up before dinner was even done. He decided the two would meet for a picnic at the local park that weekend. Patton didn’t even have to say a word and it was all planned out. Logan shook his head but gave his soulmate a small smile.

The day of the picnic arrived. Roman had done everything to get this set up for the two, excited at the possible connection for his brother and new friend. Patton just rolled with it, bringing a small cake he'd made to share.

He found the picnic and spotted Roman talking with a man who looked oddly similar and dissimilar to him at the same time. Patton figured they must be brothers and hesitated several yards away.

The man couldn't look any more different from Patton if he tried. His hair was dyed and Patton thought he spotted the glint of a piercing on his lip just under a trim mustache.  For some reason, he'd decided on a black and green mini skirt and fishnet stockings with a ripped My Chemical Romance shirt. It certainly contrasted with Patton's sky grey polo, grey cardigan, and khaki slacks.

Patton took a few deep breaths to try and remember that this wasn't likely to work and was mostly to humor Roman. He'd be nice to Remus. Maybe meet him again at a Christmas party where they both laugh at Roman's poor matchmaking. End of story.

Roman spotted him and waved Patton over, more excited than a puppy brought home from a shelter.

"Patton! Let me introduce you to Remus," Roman grabbed his wrist to yank him the rest of the way over, "I think you guys are really going to hit it off!"

Remus stared at the ground, looking embarrassed. Patton felt really bad as Roman must put him through this all the time. He offered a hand and a warm smile which he took but Remus wouldn't meet his eyes. He was fine with that.

"Alright, I'll leave you two alone to start building chemistry. Good luck!" with that Roman turned and left and Remus let out an exasperated sigh before sitting down on the blanket.

"You don't have to stay. I know he probably paid you or something," Remus muttered at Patton.

"No, I agreed to try, no bribes. I'm sorry if I'm embarrassing you," Patton smiled sadly, kneeling down on the other side of the blanket.

"It's not you, Patton. It's him. He's obsessed with finding my soulmate ever since I told him…" Remus got very quiet, picking at one of the threads of his sock.

Patton urged him to continue, "you told him what?"

"That I'm ace. No one is ever gonna be happy with me so why try?" Remus picked up a rock and threw it hard, "he doesn't believe me and thinks I'm just giving up. I wish he'd just fucking listen to me!"

"Oh, is that all? Gosh, I'm sorry, Remus. I totally get it though! Have you asked him to stop putting you in uncomfortable situations?" Patton was so relieved he forgot that Remus wouldn't know why.

"Don't you think I've tried?? And yet here you are, probably telling yourself you can change me because all anyone would need to do is get in my pants- skirt- whatever and I'll change my tune! Right?" Remus glared at Patton who looked away quickly.

"N-no… I mean I actually get it. I'm aro and I hear a lot of similar stuff from people who don't get it," Patton explained himself softly.

Remus hit his forehead and flopped down onto his back, staring up at the sky, "oh! Oh, of course... I'm sorry for assuming, Patton."

"It's okay. Let's just enjoy this lunch and what I assume is a beautiful day," Patton laid down and stared at the sky, "is it cloudy today or is the sky actually blue?"

"Oh, it's a brilliant blue today, Pattycake. Have you never seen the blue sky?" Remus asked in amazement.

Patton chuckled, "nope, never seen it. My 'soulmate'-" he used finger quotes "-has blue eyes."

"Oh, well it's about the color of your shirt today," Remus grinned, "so I guess you know the difference between leaves and clouds, huh?"

"Green is a beautiful color," Patton smiled, "I hope someday you get to see it with someone who appreciates you for who you are, Remus."

"Thanks, Patton."

They both laid there in silence for a few minutes before Remus broke it, "so what do you think of horror movies?"

"Too scary to watch alone, but I'll watch with a friend," Patton smiled, "opinion on Bob Ross?"

"A treasure, but I wish he drew fewer happy trees and more sad ones," Remus grinned. They continued bouncing questions off of each other, a few starting heated debates as they ate the picnic and just talked.

It was wonderfully non-romantic. Patton felt understood for the first time in a long while.

Remus became more and more animated as their conversation drifted from movies and games to tattoos (Patton showed him a Spongebob tattoo on his ankle much to Remus' surprise) and careers. Patton was shocked to discover that Remus worked in daycare most days, something he would have never guessed from his attire.

"You like working with kids?" Patton asked cheerfully.

"I get to give them back to their parents at the end of the day and sleep like a rock," Remus laughed and took a bite of cake, "let me guess, you're a baker?"

"Not quite, I help run my parents' Mom and Pop diner and they stick me on dessert duty way too often," Patton happily patted his stomach, "I bet chasing all those kids burns about as many calories as I can bake in a day."

Remus snorted, "maybe I should stop by and find out some time."

"Yeah! I make the best cheesecake- if I'm being humble," Patton laughed.

"I love cheesecake! Can we go now?" Remus sat bolt upright with a large grin on his face.

"Don't we have to clean all this up or wait for Roman?" Patton asked, happy but a little nervous to make Logan’s soulmate upset with him.

"Oh come on!"

"I can always just make you one," Patton replied carefully.

"That would imply seeing you again," Remus smirked at him.

"You seemed to like the idea," Patton smiled hopefully, picking at the grass.

"I love that idea. You're so easy to hang out with, Pat. You really do get it, and I'm sure we could have lots of fun together," Patton looked up, tears in his eyes. He took off his glasses and wiped them with the sleeve of his cardigan before meeting Remus' gaze with a smile.

Something in the back of his head clicked. He watched as Remus blinked in confusion and started looking around wildly. Patton felt just as confused until he noticed the sky.

He fell back down on the blanket and stared up at the brilliant depths of blue in the cloudless sky. He could almost feel how far it stretched into the void of space and was utterly in awe, tears streaming down from the corners of his eyes and down his ears. It was magnificent.

Patton lay there crying until his view was blocked by two navy blue eyes, sparkling with joy and streaming tears as well. Patton smiled and opened his arms for a hug which Remus gladly fell into.

Roman came back and found them in each other’s arms, laying on the blanket and talking about everything they couldn't tell anyone else before. Patton made sure later to tell him off for how he'd treated Remus but also thanked him for setting up the date.

They weren't dating. It was something different, but they were happy. And Patton really did love the color of the sky.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

[kpopfanfictrash]

A Gross Understatement (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight (it’s the last one I promise I will stop tagging u now. LOL)

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating: R [ fluff + enemies to lovers!AU + Hogwarts!AU ]

Warnings: no actual smut but like, some mouth over bra action u know 

Word Count: 1,316

Summary:  A series of drabbles about Slytherin!Jimin and Hufflepuff!Y/N, the sister of his self-declared mortal enemy.

A/N: These drabbles are non-sequential.

“Mm,” Jimin exhales, cuddling closer. “I could stay here for days. Months, even. How long can the human body go without food?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, wrapping both arms tighter around his waist. By this point, your legs are so hopelessly entangled, it is difficult to tell where he ends, and you begin. “It’s lucky we’re witches and wizards. We can make food appear,” you remind him, gesturing towards Jimin’s bedside table.

Craning his neck, Jimin looks over your shoulder. “Oh, right,” he observes, reaching out for his wand. Poking your exposed forearm, he frowns. “Too bad a transformation spell wouldn’t work on you though.”

“Oh?” you respond, arching a brow. “And why not?”

“Because you’re already a snack.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, shoving his shoulder. Jimin cracks up and pulls you closer, fingers digging eagerly into the curve of your waist. You dissolve into giggles when he fake-bites your ear; this gradually turns into soft, lingering kisses trailing from your earlobe to your neck.

With a loud sort of hum, you fall flat on your back. Jimin’s comforter is kept snug over your chest, keeping you guarded from the chill of his room. Propping himself up on an elbow, some of Jimin’s hair falls into his gaze.

“You’re cute,” he observes, breaking out in a smile.

When one of his hands wanders under the blanket, you shiver. “You’re cold,” you whisper, even as you move closer. “Your hands are like ice, Slytherin-boy.”

Rolling his eyes, Jimin sighs. “Are you trying to make a joke about me being cold-blooded? Because I’m in Slytherin?”

“You said it, not me,” you grin, triumphant. Your body shakes when you start to laugh, prompting Jimin to smile.

Furrowing his brow, he reaches over to drop his wand on the floor. “Alright,” Jimin murmurs, expression changing into something more dangerous. He slowly tugs down the length of his comforter, exposing your pale, cotton undergarments – you may have woken up here this morning. “Why don’t I warm you up, then?” he whispers.

Bowing his head, Jimin presses a kiss to your throat, then your collarbone and down the slope of your chest. Instinctively, your legs curl upwards when Jimin shifts in between them. His extremely capable hands cup your waist, sliding down to your ass and lifting your hips against his.

“Too cold?” Jimin murmurs, demure. He flicks his tongue against skin, like a snake and you giggle. Deviousness crossing his expression, Jimin bends his head. Your laughter is choked off, caught in your throat when Jimin’s lips close over a nipple.

“O-oh,” you breathe, curling both hands into his hair. Jimin gently sucks, getting your bra wet while your hips arch against him. He teases his tongue over a sensitive nipple until you are writhing, panting beneath him.

Pulling backwards, Jimin slides both hands up the length of your body. He hovers over you, letting his weight settle on top of yours. It feels good, comfortable like this. Sliding both hands around his neck, you let your fingers play with the base of his hair. He really does need a trim – Jimin’s mom has been telling him this for weeks now, via Owl. She finally figured out Owl Post after six years of Muggle contact and now, Jimin is severely regretting the introduction.

Staring at you, Jimin smiles and it is somewhat alarming, how hard your chest clenches at the sight. Squeezing his waist, your hands wander to his boxers-clad ass. “Ah,” you say happily, squeezing this, too. “There it is.”

“I swear,” Jimin pouts, lips turning downward. “You only love me for my excellent body.”

Ignoring his pettiness, the word love makes your heart soar. You two only began saying that recently. “Nah,” you disagree, shaking your head. “I also love your mouth,” you say, taking both thumbs and poking the sides of his lips. “It’s so cute. You’re so cute.”

Still hovering over you, Jimin ignores this to arch a brow. “Cute? Is that all my mouth is?”

A flash of something hot, needy travels your body. You know precisely what else his lips are, which is why you glance at the hourglass, checking the time. If things go where you think they are headed, you might as well –

“Oh, fuck!” you yelp, tossing aside the covers and nearly knocking Jimin off the bed. “Jimin! You are going to be so late for your Quidditch game.”

Flopping down on his bed, Jimin shrugs at the ceiling. “Eh,” he groans, reaching out for your elbow and attempting to pull you back into bed. “What’s one measly Quidditch game in the grand scheme of things?”

Dodging his lips, you squirm out of his grasp. “Jimin,” you groan, snatching your pants up from the floor. Hopping slightly, you try and tug them on. “I am not going to have the entire Slytherin House mad at me again because I sex-napped their Seeker! You’re playing Gryffindor today, for god’s sake.”

Grin broadening, Jimin props himself up on his elbows. His ab muscles flex wit the motion, distracting you enough that you misbutton your pants. “Yeah,” he yawns, cracking his neck. “How is Lucas feeling? Nervous, after I trounced them the last game?”

Paused with one hand in your robe, you fix your boyfriend a glare. “Ask him yourself,” you huff, “when you get on the field. If you ever get on the field.”

Oddly enough, Lucas and Jimin have been – dare you say it – somewhat getting along, in most recent months. Ever since you two began dating, Lucas decided he wanted the feud to be over. Jimin nearly choked on his Bertie Botts Every Flavour beans in response to this; your brother picked a truly awful time to make this announcement. You cannot lie; the situation was strange at first. It still is not perfect. There were a lot of hurt feelings and anger exchanged between them before you came along but things have improved, and this gives you hope.

Bending, you pluck Jimin’s robes from the floor. When you throw them at him on the bed, Jimin groans and begins pulling them on. “Fine, fine,” he grumbles, placing both feet on the floor. “But – the second I win I want you back in my bed. Naked.”

His words send heat up the back of your neck and Jimin grins, seeing you flustered. Weakly, you huff when he comes to a stop right before you. “Whatever,” you mumble, reaching up to brush your lips against his.

Grabbing your elbows, Jimin lets the kiss linger. When you finally break away, he bends his forehead to yours. “Hey,” Jimin exhales, opening his eyes. He sounds gentler than before, gaze soft in the late morning light. “I’m pretty happy. Did you know that?”

Tilting your face upwards, you smile. “I know,” you respond, equally quiet. “I am, too.”

With a hummed noise of contentment, Jimin leans for another kiss but you hold up a hand, effectively blocking him. “I’ll be happier,” you protest, wriggling free from his grasp. “If I don’t have to explain to Yoongi again why I am, ‘jeopardizing the future of the Slytherin Quidditch team.’”

With a dramatic eye roll, Jimin grabs his wand and stuffs this into his pants. Pushing a hand through his hair, the result is delightfully disheveled. “Yoongi needs to get laid,” Jimin announces, taking your hand in his to walk out of the dormitory. “He needs to get his own girlfriend and stop worrying about mine.”

Despite this, Jimin walks quickly through the hallways and you smile. As much as he pretends to be a badass, your boyfriend cannot help following the rules and being timely. As you scurry out of the castle and cross the grounds, the sounds of a cheering Quidditch pitch grow loud in the distance. You cannot help the large smile which spreads over your face.

Pretty happy, would be an understatement.

A/N: [ Master List ]

© kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[raiswriting]

dancing with your ghost

inspired by this song

warnings: symptoms that are similar to mental health issues like depression but never explicitly stated

genre: pure angst sorry

pairing: lucas/yukhei wong x reader

summary: ummm heartache???? basically the aftermath of a ‘hey let’s pretend to be dating bc i need someone to take to this wedding and you need someone to scare off your ex’ type of story

word count: 1582

a/n: lmao i am reposting this because it absolutely flopped the first time hehehe ALSO i made a playlist to go with this story. the first half or so is the same playlist that is mentioned in the story then the second half is more about the theme of it. i put way too much effort into it but i hope you enjoy it!! 

there was an emptiness that couldn’t be filled

an ache that couldn’t be soothed

a feeling of nostalgia for what never was

honestly you couldn’t be sure if this hole in your chest was a bad thing anymore. you’d grown so used to it that the thought of one day living with out it seemed so fantastical and out of reach. you found a sort of morbid comfort in the sorrow

time has slipped away as routine comfortably took its place. mondays became indistinguishable from wednesday or friday. the only thing separating saturday and sunday from the rest was the lack of work.

your thoughts drifted from the idea of getting up and taking a shower or even just washing your face to the cup of tea that’s been sitting on the coffee table and once more to your phone lying next to it. it lit up with yet another text message to which you would send yet another half-assed response of ‘id love to get together but work has been super busy lately and i need a me weekend.’ you wonder how many more ‘me weekends’ you’d be able to have before someone saw through it.

you just couldn’t have that face to face conversation with any of them. how do you explain that none of it was serious. or that all he needed was someone to take to family get-togethers for when his uncles would ask about his love life. or that you had grown so used to his hand in yours that the emptiness you felt when he wasn’t there scared you. or that you missed him. how could you look someone in the eyes and say that you had not only lost a love but also a best friend. how do you describe that hurt. how do you say that you feel unlovable. how.

you couldn’t say those thoughts aloud because as soon as you did they’d become real. he would really be gone. and happy. and in love. and you would have to admit that you were hurting. you’d have to admit that it was really over.

so instead you lay here on the sofa. and keep it all in. sometimes you can’t help but remember him. and how happy he’d been.

the knock on your door drew your attention from the sheet of cookies ready to go into the oven.

there he stood in the doorway with a smile so bright that it put the stars on the clearest of nights to shame.

‘hey y/n’ he pulled you into a warm embrace. the scent of his cologne was intoxicating. strong and inviting, the prefect reflection of his personality.

‘hey lucas. i wasn’t expecting to stop by today.’

‘yeah i just wanted to share some good news with you. like really good news. like i came here as fast as I could kind of news.’ he spoke so excitedly as he followed you back into the kitchen.

‘well spit it out,’ you reply while placing the sheet of cookies in the oven.

‘i found someone,’ his smile wider than ever.

you almost dropped the sheet of cookies as you took in what he said. you knew this day would come. the day he would find someone to actually love and care for. the day he no longer needed you. but still you hoped and prayed that maybe there was something there. maybe the secret touches shared between just the two of you actually meant something. that maybe he’d choose you.

he didn’t.

‘so get this. i was walking into the coffee shop on seventh street that me and you usually go to. and i bumped into this gorgeous girl and spilled her whole coffee so i offered to buy her a new one.’ he rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the floor. ‘so cheesy and cliché i know. but y/n this girl. we talked and talked and she made everything seem to….right. when I looked into her eyes i just felt…’ he sighed and leaned against the counter.

‘…like everything just seemed to make sense for once.’ you finished the sentence for him as you checked on the cookies.

‘yeah exactly’ he didn’t even try the hide his love struck expression. it was clear as day that he was really falling. ‘when i talked to her it was so easy. almost as if we knew each other for years.’

we did.

you looked him in the eyes for the first time since he broke the news and forced a smile to your face. you couldn’t even fathom the idea of ruining this for him.

‘lucas im ecstatic for you.’

‘really?’

‘of course. if there’s anyone who deserves true love and happiness in life, it’s you.’ and you meant that. it just hurts that he found it in someone else.

‘and hey. at least now you actually have someone to take to all your family functions.’

he chuckled lightly, ‘yeah you’re right. i don’t know if your cheeks could handle another one if aunt maya’s pinches.’

‘the pinches i could handle,’ you say as you forced a laugh out, ‘but I’d have to buy a gym membership if i had another dinner at your parents house.’

‘it’s not my fault mom loves insisting on third helpings’ this time he let out a full real laugh, remembering all the shared glances between the two of you at a dinner table. wondering how you could possibly eat another slice of meatloaf.

‘we can celebrate your new found love with some cookies, if you’d like. they should be done in a minute or two.’

the smile dropped slightly from his face. ‘oh y/n. i’d love to really but i promised angelina that i’d meet her again for coffee. i just stopped by the tell you the good news.’

‘of course, of course. you should get going then. a love like this comes around once in a life time.’ and who am i to stand in the way of someone living their lifetime.

lucas cast a sympathetic look before pushing himself off of the counter and embracing you once more.

‘thank you for everything y/n. seriously. you’ve helped me out so much. if you need anything let me know.’ his cologne was still so strong. and it hurt to know that someone else was going to experience it like this.

‘that’s what best friends are for lucas. you’ll be the first person i call when im sick and throwing up everywhere.’

you could feel him chuckle lightly before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

‘you got it y/n.’

the door shut, leaving you alone.

your hands shook as you took the cookies out of the oven and set the tray in the stove top. they shook as you turned it off. they shook as you took off the oven mits. they shook as you ran them down your face only to find them wet with tears. and they shook as you lowered yourself to the kitchen floor.

your hands were steady now and found their way to that playlist like muscle memory. you had long since deleted all the photos of you and him. but you just couldn’t find the strength to delete this. he had made it for you before the whole fiasco of pretending to be together had ever crossed either of your minds. he said that ‘these song remind me of us.’ and maybe you had gotten your own hopes up. maybe you had searched too deeply between the lines of lyrics. maybe you looked so hard that you had only found what you wanted to. because they were just songs. songs of bad timing and unrequited love. but at the end of the day still. just. songs.

as they played throughout the room. filling the stale silence as your body began to move, lifting you from the couch. your gaze landing on the sweater which rested on the arm of a chair. it was his. he had left it accidentally when spending the night here one time. you had meant to give it back for some time now but haven’t been able to. everytime you had gained the courage to call him and ask him over, he was busy. eventually you stopped calling. and he stopped texting. stopped checking in. so there the sweater sits. still smelling of him.

your body began to move once more reaching out for it and pulling it close to you. maybe if you breathed in enough of his scent, it’d feel like he was here with you again. of course it didn’t but it was as close you could get.

your hips swayed to the rhythm. as your feet worked their way around the living room. stepping over pillows and discarded take out. you danced for the first time in what felt like years. you felt the tears fall but paid them no mind. still clutching the article of clothing impossibly close to you, you sang along with the lyrics.

Yelling at the sky

Screaming at the world

Baby, why’d you go away?

I’m still your girl

Holding on too tight

Head up in the clouds

Heaven only knows

Where you are now

I stay up all night

Tell myself I’m alright

Baby, you’re just harder to see than most

I put the record on

Wait ‘til I hear our song

Every night I’m dancing with your ghost

Every night I’m dancing with your ghost

a/n: there it is. i was listening to this song today and got super inspired and just had to write. there’s also a reference to a hobo johnson song if you can find it ;) thanks for reading. let me know if you’d like a prequel to this when reader and lucas were together. i hope you enjoyed and pls feel free to leave constructive criticism. thanks, rai :)

[wasteitonserendipity]

Gummies (Part One)

(A/N: hello lovelies! I started a new main blog for writing so I’m reposting all of my stuff to here! Anyways, I’m working on the part two right now and hopefully it’ll be up soon!)

Genre: fluff and a little angst because why not?

Paring: Jungkook x reader

Word Count: 2.3K

-5:30AM- 

You were jolted awake by the blare of your alarm, the man by your side stirring a little bit. You sighed to yourself, staring up at the ceiling. The idea of getting up right now was less than appealing at the moment but you knew it must be done. You hated that even when you got to spend the night with Jungkook it was always cut short by the need to get home early in the morning. His arms tightened around your waist as you tried to kick your legs over the side of the bed to get up.

“Can’t you stay a little bit longer,” he said with a pout you could see through the dark, “you always leave so early. I wanna make you breakfast or something.”

“Thanks babe,” you said with a smile, kissing his shoulder before loosening his grip and getting up, “I wish I could but duty calls,”

He sat up and groaned again but didn’t really protest anymore, instead flopping back onto the bed dramatically. He knew that this was how it was. He knew that you had some kind of “responsibility” that you had to take care of in the morning before school, but he didn’t know exactly what it was. Sometimes he just figured that you had a morning routine that you wanted to stick to, so he really didn’t push the issue. 

You moved around the bedroom, humming while you gathered your belongings. He’d told you that if you were going to be staying over that you should leave some clothes at his, maybe even a toothbrush or makeup. In fact he’d almost insisted when you two actually began seeing each more consistently around a month in. You’d left small things there, maybe a Tshirt or a pair fo shorts to sleep in but leaving anything more than felt a little invasive to you and you certainly didn’t want to be that person. You two were casually seeing each other and had agreed that if you were to see other people to let each other know, but neither of you had really been interested in anyone else since your thing started. 

Before you could grab your glasses off of the nightstand Jungkook grabbed you by the wrist. 

“Hey,” he said with a soft smile, kissing your hand, “can you do dinner tonight? I wanted to talk about something with you.”

 You stopped all movement immediately, a million things ran through your mind, but one thing was consistent. Crap, this is it, he doesn’t wanna see me anymore.

Sensing your panic he laughed lightly before pulling you into his lap, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“It’s nothing bad babe,” he said soothingly, “just something I think we should talk about in a nicer setting.”

You wriggled out of his hold to face him, his eyes wide and full of what looked like love, even though you wouldn’t dare say that word yet. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” you sighed, caressing his face before placing a small kiss on his lips. 

-6:15AM-

“You’re late again,” Jisoo said, leaning on the counter with a cup of coffee. You could sense the mild irritation in her voice, “she’s not up yet thankfully. I figured I’d let her sleep until you were home.”

“I’m sorry Jisoo,” you said sincerely, setting your bag on the kitchen table “you’re literally the best sitter I could ever ask for.”

“I know I am,” she said with a smirk, her irritation fading away, “I'm the best live in babysitter ever. It helps that she’s the most adorable little angel I’ve ever met. If she was the devil this would be a very different conversation.”

“I owe you a big bottle of wine and a night to yourself,” you promised. 

You were forever grateful that your roommate was one of the most understanding people in the world. She knew your situation, that you were now the sole guardian of your four year old sister after your parent disappeared. You two had been living together already when you got the call that your sister was in custody after someone doing a wellness check found her in your old house all by herself. They figured she’d been there for a few days alone but she really had no idea what was going on. When you’d asked if Jisoo it was okay if your little sister came to live with you, she didn’t even hesitate. You felt lucky to have such an amazing friend by your side. 

“Deal,” she laughed, sipping her coffee.

A comfortable silence fell between you two before you heard a small voice from the other room.

“Unnie?” the small voice sung impatiently. You shared a glance with Jisoo and smiled.

“Duty calls,” you say lightly before making your way down the hall.

You popped your head into your shared room to see your little sister sitting up in the middle of your huge bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Hi baby,” you cooed, “are you ready to start the day?”

She nodded but pouted at the same time. She was never a morning person, something you both had in common. You were so much alike sometimes that it was almost like she was your daughter and not your little sister. She was smart as a whip and picked up a lot of your habits, both good and bad. She was always asking questions with the most adorable, inquisitive look on her face. Day in and day out she never ceased to amaze you. 

“What are we doing today, Unnie?” she asked you with bright eyes now.

“Do you want to come to class with me?” you asked. It was summer session now, so she didn’t have daycare everyday like during the year but your teacher for your summer lit class was kind enough to let you bring her with you whenever it was necessary. 

“Yes, please!” she squealed, jumping out of bed and running for the kitchen. 

“Jisoo! Incoming!” you yelled down the hall. You smiled when you heard Jisoo greet the little one and endless giggles could be heard from the kitchen.

You stretched a little before getting up to change for class. You pulled your clean shirt over your when your phone vibrated on the bed.

JK: Hope you made it home okay! I’ll pick you up around 7? Xx

You wanted to panic at the thought of Jungkook picking you up at your place. He’d never come over to yours and never really questioned why you never offered to host and this would be the first time that he’d be in the same vicinity as your sister. It made your stomach flip at the thought of telling him about your situation. You weren’t ashamed in anyway of the predicament your parents put you in, but you knew that most guys in their twenties weren’t exactly keen on the idea of dating someone who has to take care of a little life as well. 

“Today’s as good a day as ever I guess,” you sighed to yourself as you put the rest of your books in your bag. 

-11AM-

“What’d you think of class today, little one?” you asked as your walked across campus. You held on to her little hand, in her other hand was the popsicle that your professor had insisted on buying for being “the best listener in class”.

“It was good,” she hummed, happily enjoying people watching as you both walked.

That was one of the millions of things you simply adored about her, she was always the happiest kid around. You would never have known all the shit that she’d had to deal with in her four short years of being on earth. She was always happy, always a tiny ray of sunshine in the dark. She rarely cried or got upset and somehow, at four and a half, knew how to work her problems out better than most of the adults you knew. 

You moment of adoration was cut short by the sound of a familiar voice behind you.

“______!” you knew exactly who it was and you froze. You were planning on telling him but this wasn’t exactly how you wanted to. You took a deep breath, knowing that you didn’t have much of a choice now. You turned around with a forced smile, one you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Hey”! You a little more enthusiastically than you should have. 

“I saw you come out of lit and I thought I would say hi and see if you wanted to grab lunch,” he said with his bunny smile. 

You were lost in his smile when your little sister tugged at your jacket impatiently.

“Unnie, who’s that?” she asked, her eyes doing a once over on Jungkook, “he’s very tall.”

You laughed a little, always the curious little one. Jungkook looked between the two of you surprised, but not as much as you figured he would, which puzzled you a little bit. 

“This is my friend, Jungkook. He goes to school with me.” you say, nodding for her to introduce herself.

“I’m Ji Ah, it’s nice to meet you,” she smiled and bowed.

After Jungkook bowed back she turned on her heels and immediately made the signal that she wanted you to pick her up, something she only did when she was feeling shy. You smiled as you picked her up and rested her on your hip. 

“This is what you mean when you say ‘duty calls’, huh?” he asked, quietly. 

“I didn’t want you to find out like this but yes,” you said, looking at the ground.

“I just don’t get what the big deal is though,” he said with a shrug, pulling his water bottle out of his backpack. 

“What?” you asked, a little shocked.

“So, you have a little sister? That’s hardly something to get worked up about,” he laughed. 

He set his bag down on the ground before rummaging through it again. After a minute, and your heart restarting, he pulled out a small bag of gummies. 

“Ji Ah, do you like gummies?” he asked, Ji Ah’s head still buried in your neck. She looked around at him shyly and nodded her head. 

“Good, so do I!” Jungkook chirped enthusiastically, “you want some?” 

She nodded again with more fervor before taking the colorful candy from his hand. 

“Jungkook, it’s a little more complicated than that,” you said in a hushed tone. 

He pulled out another candy and handed it to Ji Ah before turning to look you dead in the eye. 

“That’s okay,” he said with sincerity in his eyes, “you can tell me about it over lunch, my treat.” 

-12:35PM-

“It took about six months, but because they couldn’t find my parents I gained sole custody of Ji Ah. It’s been about a year since she’s been with me.” you said, taking a sip of your iced tea.

Ji Ah was sitting next to you happily coloring away, oblivious to the world around her. You smiled down at her lovingly. Just about your whole world was that little girl and you braced yourself for the out come that had happened the last time you’d told a guy about your situation.

Jungkook continued to listen to you intently, only stopping every so often to pick at his sandwich. You pressed on, figuring if he was meant to stay in your life after all of the information overload you were letting loose on him, that he would stay, and if not then it just wasn’t meant to be. 

“I won’t say it’s been easy,” you started, fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, “because it really hasn’t. Between social services checking in, taking care of Ji Ah, going to school full time and trying to have a social life, I’m stretched pretty thin. Which is the reason why you’ve never really seen me with a guy on campus. I know when we met we joked about that, but that’s the real reason. Ji Ah always comes first. She’s never met really any of the guys I’ve seen until now. I’ve never really been comfortable with the idea of her getting attached to someone and then all of a sudden they’re no longer around. So, I won’t lie, the fact that we’re all sitting here together right now is a big deal.”

You looked up, your eyes meeting with his. You looked for signs that he was ready to bolt, for any kind of unsteadiness in them. But you found none. His eyes still sparkled the same way they did this morning, and it made your heart flip. 

“_____,” he said as he took your hand, his eyes never leaving yours, “you are one of the most amazing people I have ever met.”

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded by his words.

“I don’t know anyone at our age that would willingly take on this kind of responsibility without a second thought. You have a huge heart and for you to take care of Ji Ah and keep your grades up is truly amazing.”

You looked down, smiling at his kind words and blushed just a little. You figured he’d let you go easily as soon as he knew the kind of commitment dating you would now entail. But it seemed like he almost welcomed it.

“I was gonna ask you this tonight over dinner,” he began again, “but since we’re in a sharing mood, I guess I’ll just go now; ––––––––, would you officially be my girlfriend?” 

Ji Ah looked up as soon as he said the word ‘girlfriend’ halting all of her coloring. She looked between the two of you a few times with inquisitive eyes before turning to you to ask, 

“Does this mean Jungkook oppa can come over a play with me? I like him.” 

You both laughed a little at her forward question. You looked at the clearly amazing, understanding man across from you with a smile.

“I guess it does.” 

[wordsablaze]

Too Much Patience Is No Help

(thw pt.4) Yaz’s cramps prove that you can sometimes create trouble for yourself by being too pure and good but all’s well that ends well�� Written for prompt ‘angst’ in thasmin week 2019, enjoy!

A/N: Can you believe this took me an hour to write (not bad) but took a day to post? Grr, tumblr mobile :/ Anyway...

Cramps can curl up and die.

They're horrible and cruel and Yaz hates them to Ranksoor Av Kolos and back.

Even though she's well aware of the biological functions of cramps and all that, she can't help but hate them for the pain they refuse to stop giving her.

As it is, she's currently curled up on her bed, her body almost folded around a pillow she barely registers as she hums to herself, her eyes staying firmly shut as she blocks out the offensively bright light.

She'd planned to meet the Doctor tonight and now that plan's gone down the drain. It doesn't really matter, she knows that, because the Doctor is an actual Time Lord and the two of them can meet at any point, but it's more a matter of principle than literal events.

She'd been looking forward to this for the whole week. It had taken them four stressful days to solve the issue of those funny-looking little creatures whose names she cannot formulate no matter how hard she tries, and the Doctor had decided she'd give them some time in their ordinary lives before inviting them to another distant planet for an adventure.

She'd wanted to spend a nice, peaceful evening with the Doctor because their relationship - which she's pretty sure is more than friendship but she does need to confirm that with the Doctor just in case - is something that brings her happiness but no, she had to go and acquire cramps today of all days.

When seven o'clock rolls by and rolls past, Yaz groans and shifts so she's now facing the wall, not the window where the Doctor usually appears, pre-invited or not.

A minute and a half later, she's back to staring at the window, fiercely glaring at it as if it's in league with her cramps and responsible for all her problems.

Ten minutes later and remorse nags at her; she can't actually command her body to move and she feels bad standing the Doctor up when she'd been the one to organise the whole thing anyway.

Twenty three minutes later and she's starting to worry because the Doctor is usually overly punctual with this sort of thing and what if something bad has happened to her while Yaz is just lying on her bed, doing nothing?

Thirty three minutes later sees her getting angry; isn't she even worth checking up on if she's missing?

Thirty four minutes later, however, she's berating herself for even thinking that. The Doctor has repeatedly told her that she's one of the most important people in the universe and that she is worth everything and then some; how can she even doubt something as heartfelt and sincere as that?

Fifty two minutes later, she realises that she'd literally frowned herself into a restless nap from which she wakes with something heavy and uneasy settling in her stomach. Or maybe that's just the cramps…

An hour later and there may or may not be tears in her eyes but there's nobody else to see her and bring about embarrassment so it's fine.

Seventy minutes later and she's genuinely unsure what to feel. She's starting to doubt whether or not she'd been thinking of the right day at all. What if this was all a misunderstanding and she was overreacting like an immature toddler?

Just as she's about to give up and flop onto the floor in attempt to be sure of something - the floor is usually a constant in her life, except that one time the Doctor had taken them to a planet where floors were outlawed - and try to clear her mind, there's a subtle commotion outside her bedroom door.

She frowns, clutching the pillow a little tighter and staring at her door, attempting to try and figure out what's going on behind it. She can hear her mum talking to someone in an attempt at a hushed voice but she's not really sure what's being said or who it's being said to anyway.

A couple of minutes later, just as her cramps worsen and she squeezes her eyes shut, clenching her jaw, there's a small knock on her room door.

The pain takes a second to pass, after which she squints at her door, wondering if she'd imagined it due to her pain- but no, there it is again, determined but… shy?

"C'm'n," she manages, well aware that she's just broken every law of the English, most importantly the one that dictates you actually need to use words, but she doesn't really care because it's probably her mum offering her tea and her mum knows her well enough to know what that means.

Except her mum says nothing as the door is pushed open. Weird.

"Yaz?" a hesitant, gentle voice asks, and a familiar face that definitely does not belong to her mum pokes itself into her bedroom.

Oh.

Oh.

"Doctor?" Yaz exclaims, then winces when that somehow upsets her insides.

A look of panic flashes across the Doctor's face and she's kneeling by Yaz's bed in an instant, a cool hand on Yaz's forehead.

Without meaning to, Yaz lets out a relieved sigh, the coolness of the Doctor's skin a change from the way her skin seems to be burning the pain away. It's just cold enough to settle her nerves without causing discomfort.

Only then does she notice the faint smell of damp.

Yaz glances up properly for the first time and gasps when she realises the Doctor is just one step away from being soaking wet, her beautiful hair still beautiful but curled and dripping ever so slightly, and her clothes slightly damp, which seems impossible but it's likely she'd dried them as best as she could with the sonic to avoid getting Yaz's mum's new carpet wet.

"Hi, Yaz," the Doctor murmurs softly, leaning forwards and placing a soft kiss on Yaz's cheek.

Blushing, Yaz pushes aside the way that soothes her pain and looks outside, chiding herself for not even remotely realising how heavily it's raining. "Were you outside?" she mumbles.

The Doctor looks at the floor bashfully before shrugging. "I used to- I mean, I've had a few, uh, friends? Do you call them friends? Oh, that's not important, I mean to say I know that people like to take their time getting ready, right? I thought you were just doing the same so I-"

"For over an hour?" Yaz interrupts, her heart breaking slightly at this revelation of how the Doctor had been patiently waiting in the harsh rain for her.

The Doctor shrugs again. "It's not like it'd be the first time. I'm so sorry I didn't realise you were here! And in pain! You must think I'm so rude, mustn't you?"

Yaz shakes her head, despite the waves of pain that travel through her at the movement. "No, no, I thought- I thought you'd become preoccupied with something more important…"

Even as she says it, she knows it's a mistake. The Doctor's eyes flash with something so sharp, so intense, that it can't even be called plain old hurt anymore. Immediately, she opens her mouth to apologise but the Doctor shakes her head softly, simply pushing Yaz's hair away from her eyes with a small smile.

"Did I forget to tell you that I care for you more than most things in the universe?" The Doctor asks gently, something like regret laced in her tone.

That stings almost as much as it warms her heart.

Yaz's eyes water again; she'd messed up. She's messed up so bad and the Doctor is hurting and it's all her fault because she couldn't tolerate stupid little cramps when the Doctor had done so much for her and she wishes she could go back in time and undo the past hour she'd wasted because she was so childish and-

"Your mind is spinning lies about how you've done something wrong, isn't it?" The Doctor asks, raising an eyebrow. "I can practically hear how hard you're overthinking this."

Yaz just shakes her head. "Doctor, I'm so sorry, I-"

"I know," the Doctor assures her, and Yaz manages to believe her.

Another small kiss planted on her forehead later, the Doctor smiles widely. "So, how about some confusing stories to distract you from your pain?"

Somehow, Yaz lets out a weak, grateful chuckle. "That sounds perfect, actually."

"So it sounds like you?" the Doctor asks innocently, as if that wouldn't cause Yaz's heart to skip a beat.

She half-heartedly elbows the Doctor, an unstoppable smile on her face as the two of them settle, Yaz curling around an actual human- uh, actual Time Lord this time, rather than a pillow.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles again, locking gazes with the Doctor for a second before finding her hand and running her index finger over the small scars on her hands. It's become a habit of hers to do so, she's not even really sure why.

A moment later, the Doctor replies with: "I love you too."

Suffice to say, hearing those words is definitely worth the occasional torment of their awkward love.

like/reblog but don’t repost, thanks!

[tonydadisbestdad]

Dear Peter Parker - 9 - You Will Be Found

Peter ParkerxReader

Dad!Tony, Mom!Pepper, Brother!Connor

Word Count: 1,714

A/N: Sorry it’s been a while, enjoy!

Previous Next

Peter was surprised when you weren’t at school that day. Or rather, he was disappointed. He was hoping you’d stand on the side while he gave his speech, if anything just for comfort.

He’d read over his speech a hundred times. When it was finally time for everyone to head to the auditorium he was freaking out.

Ned threw an arm around his shoulders. “It’s gonna be fine. It’s not like you’re about to lie to the whole school or something.”

“Thanks,” Peter said, sarcasm falling from his lips.

“Look, you’re doing a good thing. Relax, it’s going to be fine.” He assured.

“Ready?” MJ asked, approaching them.

“This is a bad idea,” Peter said.

The three of them started their journey backstage.

After being introduced by their principal, Peter froze.

Of course, MJ being the saint that she is gave him a shove.

Peter stumbled a little but was glad for the push to get moving. His journey to the microphone was nerve wracking.

“H-hi everyone,” he greeted, he was met with silence and just the bright spotlight on him. He could just about see the first few rows of people before it became a little too dark in the auditorium. He fumbled with his note cards and then pulled gently at his shirt collar. The blue tie around his neck that he’d struggled to figure out how to tie that morning was just a bit too tight.

“Pete,” Connor said, beside him. “Tell them how you feel… tell them about what you want to do. You’ve got this.”

Peter took a breath and nodded. “Have you ever felt like nobody was there? Have you ever felt forgotten or like you could disappear and nobody would even notice? Like you could fall, and no one would hear?”

There were a few murmurs from the crowd.

He nodded, and shifted his cards. He could do this. He could do this for Connor it was the least he could do. “Well, let that lonely feeling wash away. Maybe there's a reason to believe you'll be okay. 'Cause when you don't feel strong enough to stand, you can reach out your hand… and someone will coming running, and I know, they'll take you home. Even when the dark comes crashing through, and when you need a friend to carry you. When you're broken on the ground I can tell you, you will be found. So let the sun come streaming in, because you'll reach up and get up and look around and see that you’re found. Whether it’s in just one person, or a few. Even if you think you have no one, someone will find you.”

He left the podium, applause erupted. MJ actually hugged him as he made it back to the wing. Ned pat his shoulder, as MJ ran out to give her part.

She talked about their plans for The Connor Project and how everyone could participate and be apart of it. As soon as she was done Ned went out to talk about fundraising for it.

Later that night Peter flopped back onto his bed.

“You did great,” Connor said.

“Thanks,” Peter offered, looking at the boys pale face.

“No, thank you, Peter. I know if I hadn’t done what I did things wouldn’t be the same, but I really wish we could have been friends… I wish I wasn’t so fucked up that I didn’t have to follow through with it. Not that I regret it, I’m finally free… but I’m glad it’s given you something good.”

“You’re not going to like, go to the other side now are you?” Peter asked.

Connor chucked. “No, you’re stuck with me until I decide to go. You still have a lot of work ahead of us.” He winked at him before he did disappear.

“Peter,” May said, knocking softly on his door.

“Yeah May?” He asked as she opened the door.

“Don’t forget tomorrow we’re going to visit those school’s you’re looking into for college.” She reminded him.

With everything going on, he did forget about his weekend plans. He just had to hope MJ and Ned could handle things for their first weekend without him. He certainly wasn’t going to get out of going.

MJ ran up to Peter that monday morning. “Have you seen this? Someone put a video of your speech on the Connor Project page.” She handed him her phone to show him.

“M-My speech?” Peter asked, taking her phone to look. There he was up on that stage, looking awkward as ever giving his speech.

“People started sharing it, and now Connor is everywhere. Well more than he was before but for a better reason,” She was happy that their movement was making progress already. She had feared it would flop and they wouldn’t end up helping anyone.

“Your speech is everywhere,” Ned said, approaching them, excitement in his voice. He might not have liked Connor, but he did know this was also for Peter. He was happy that this might help him in the long run. “Saturday morning the Connor Project page only had 62 people following it.”

“How many does it have now?” Peter asked, surprised that they’d gotten even that many.

Ned gave him an answer but MJ spoke right over him. “31,836,” She started hitting Peter’s arm in excitement.

He could only stare between them. “I-I don't understand, what happened?”

“You did,” Ned and MJ stated together.

“This is a place where no one has to feel like they’re no one.” MJ told him. “And everytime someone calls out here they’re less alone.”

“All they have to do is post about it on the page and someone is bound to answer,” Ned added.

“Your voice is being heard,” MJ informed him.

“This is incredible.” Peter said.

Connor appeared beside him, “Yeah, it is.”

Later on at lunch Peter started reading through all the responses on the page with his phone. MJ’s laptop sat in front of them as they watched a news clip. He was amazed that it was on the news, but then again he realized that the Stark’s were pretty well known, especially in New York City.

“Oh my god, everyone needs to see this!”

“I just keep rewatching this video! It’s incredible!”

“Seventeen years old,” the person on the news said. “Take just 5 minutes to watch, it will make your day! Share it with the people you love, repost it. More people need to hear about this.”

There were dozens of reposts already, and the number was climbing.

“The world needs to hear this!”

“A beautiful tribute”

There were as many likes as views which had doubled since they’d checked before homeroom that morning.

“I know someone who really needed to hear this today, so thank you Peter Parker, for doing what you’re doing.”

“I never met you Connor, but coming on here, reading everyone’s posts, you left such an impact.”

“It’s so easy to feel alone, but Peter is exactly right! We’re not alone, none of us are alone!”

“Especially now, with everything that you hear in the news,” the woman in the news continued. “It’s so important to spread this message.”

“Thank you Peter, for giving us a space to remember Connor - a fellow classmate”

There were prayers and messages from all over the country. So many thank you’s.

He couldn’t believe it. He was actually making a difference.

You walked into lunch late that afternoon. You had seen the video practically right after it was posted. You had been watching the page, just in case anyone made any cruel comments about it. You didn’t want Peter to lose this. You watched everything unravel, all weekend. But Peter’s speech, it really hit you. You were so moved by it. Frankly, you were afraid to approach him after how you had acted, but now you knew what you were feeling. It was all thanks to him.

Peter spotted you out of the corner of his eye, he offered an awkward smile.

You offered a half one back and nodded, silently asking him to follow you.

“I’ll be back guys,” Peter told his friends. He followed after you and somehow the two of you ended up outside on a bench. “Hey, everything alright?”

“I finally get it,” You told him. “I think I actually forgive him, and it’s all thanks to you Peter.”

Peter shyly rubbed the back of his neck. “W-well, I mean-”

“Everyone feels some type of darkness in them, maybe not always like Connor did, but it manages to crash through… And I think I was letting that darkness keep me from expressing my grief… I wanted to thank you, because without you here to carry me through it in some way even when I was being cold to you about it. I-I was feeling so broken about this loss and I felt misunderstood because both of my parents feel differently about it. And somehow you managed to pull it all together. You showed me that I can feel other things besides this hate towards Connor. That it’s okay for me to just reach out to people... You helped me find my feelings again. And I just-,”

He’d been nodding along, a small smile on his face. He was glad that you finally came to terms with the loss of your brother, he was happy he could help. His eyes went wide when you stopped mid sentence and pressed your lips to his. That didn’t last long though, his eyes shut, his hand found your cheek. He kissed you back.

“You did so great up there,” you mumbled against his lips. “The help you’ll bring to other people-”

He lightly pecked your lips again, cutting you off.

You chuckled quietly. “You’re doing so much to help others. I really admire you for it.”

“Well, thanks, Y/N,” Peter said, pushing some of your hair behind your ear. “It’s not a big deal, I just… I didn’t want anyone to forget or be forgotten…”

You nodded. “I get that… But as much as I appreciate you doing this advocacy work for people, can we maybe… focus on us for a bit?”

Peter smiled and pulled you in for another kiss.

Things were really starting to look up for him.

Tags: Wanna be tagged? Just ask!

@manchurian-barnes, @marrvelle-fics, @chloe-geoghegan1, @awkwardturtle25, @defenestrate-yourself-please, @3blue-dreams3, @marvellouspengwing, @lesbian-jesus-jr, @valiantelk, @godhateskyleigh, @thepowerstoner, @lou-la-lou, @marvelc00kie35, @lynnskata, @bookgirlunicorn, @buckysendoftheline WOW TUMBLR ACTUALLY LET ME TAG EVERYONE THIS TIME!

[blurry-fics]

Sleepy Snapchats

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: Some angst and self-deprecation

Word Count: 1327

Request: Josh imagine where he snapchats the reader sleeping on his chest after a long day, reader gets mad at first but seeing the caption just makes her realize how much she really does love and cherish him -Anon

Author’s Note: I feel like there’s been a lot of angst lately, so here’s a nice fluffy imagine for you guys! 💕

“Finally,” you sighed as you flopped dramatically onto the bed. “I was beginning to think that this moment would never come.”

Josh laughed as he walked out of the bathroom. The two of you had been out an event all day talking to people, walking around, and promoting the new album. As much fun as it was, you always ended up exhausted afterwards.

“Well now we have the whole night in front of us to do whatever we want.”

“Good,” you said, rolling onto your side and snuggling up with a pillow. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

Josh walked over and laid down next to you on the bed, resting one hand lightly on your hip.

“And here I was thinking that you would actually watch a movie with me,” he laughed.

“What movie?” you asked, looking at him over your shoulder.

“Whatever you want.”

Your mouth widened into a smile, “I’ll think of one while I get ready for bed.”

You walked into the bathroom so that you could wash your face and change into comfier clothes for bed. It was nice to finally be out of your event clothes and in one of Josh’s oversized t-shirts.

“I’ve decided what to watch,” you announced as you walked back into the bedroom and took a seat on the bed.

“Which is?”

“A Marvel movie,” you beamed.

“Again?”

“Yes. That way I won’t miss anything that I haven’t seen if I fall asleep, which I inevitably will.”

“Fair enough,” Josh said, grabbing the TV remote to turn on the movie.

“I know, I’m a genius.” You made yourself comfortable on your side of the bed.

“What are you doing all the way over there?”

“Laying down?”

“Are you not going to cuddle with me?” he asked, sticking out his bottom lip.

“Alright, I’m coming,” you smiled, scooting over and resting your head on Josh’s chest.

“Thanks for watching a movie with me.”

“Of course. There’s no better way to celebrate another successful event.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Sure enough, you had fallen asleep barely half an hour into a movie. You woke up the next morning now sleeping on your own pillow with Josh nowhere to be found. He had probably woken up early to go running, a part of his morning routine that you rarely joined him in.

You reached over and grabbed your phone, deciding that getting out of bed could wait until you finished checking social media. Josh had posted on his Snapchat story at some point while you were asleep, so you decided to see what it is that he had to say.

Much to your surprise, the Snapchat was a picture of you asleep on his chest. His face was just visible in the corner of the screen, the smile on his face was evident. He had written a caption that said, “Spent all day at an event with this one only to have her fall asleep twenty minutes into the movie we’re watching. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You hardly paid attention to the sweet caption that he had written, instead you were scrutinizing your appearance in the photo. Your hair had partially fallen in your face and your mouth was wide open. Even your skin didn’t look good since it was still somewhat shiny from the product that you had used on it. Thankfully the next Snapchat on his story was just a picture from his run, not another of you looking terrible while you slept.

You switched over to Twitter to try and take your mind off of the number of people that had probably seen the photo. There were enough nasty comments thrown at you even when you were fully dressed up and posing for a photo, you didn’t need to give them more ammo by having them see one you hadn’t even known had been taken. Unfortunately for you, the Snapchat photo had already made its way to Twitter and was being reposted with comments from the few clique accounts you followed. No social media was safe, it seemed.

You tossed your phone down on the bed and rolled back onto your side. It would probably be a good idea to get out of bed and get ready for the day, but you were just too comfortable to move.

The door downstairs opened, followed closely by the sound of Josh closing it and walking up the stairs. He walked into the room a few moments later. His hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead and his face was bright pink. Despite this, he was smiling.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Hey.”

His back was turned to you as he messed around with his headphones.

“You doing ok?” he asked, taking a second to look over his shoulder.

“I guess,” you sighed. “I saw your Snapchat story.”

“Yeah?”

“I look really bad in that picture, Josh. You shouldn’t have posted it.”

He turned around completely now, his eyebrows knit together, “What are you talking about?”

“Did you even look at the picture before you posted it? I look awful. My face is shiny and my hair is a mess and my mouth…”

“I thought you looked beautiful,” Josh said quietly. “I just wanted to show how much I love you.”

You shrugged and stared down at your feet, trying to ignore the mental image of the picture in your mind.

“If you really want, I can take it down,” he said.

You shrugged again, “It’s already spread to Twitter. You might as well leave it up.”

“Ok,” Josh sighed. He was visibly upset, which only made you feel worse about the whole situation. “I’m going to go shower.”

“Ok.”

Josh walked into the bathroom and closed the door. You laid back down and grabbed your phone, deciding to get over your self-loathing and take another look at the picture. It was completely possible that you were remembering it much worse than it actually was.

The second time you looked at the picture wasn’t too bad. There were definitely worse pictures of you that existed, and those didn’t even have sweet captions that accompanied them. It didn’t take you long to realize your mistake in lashing out at Josh. He truly was just trying to be sweet.

You had finally gotten out of bed and changed into everyday clothes by the time that Josh walked out of the bathroom, now clean and dripping water instead of sweat. He avoided eye contact with you as he walked over and tossed his clothes into the laundry hamper.

“Hey, Josh,” you said, nervously twisting your hands together. You hated that you had to apologize to him, although that was only because you were upset with yourself for even lashing out in the first place.

“What?”

“I’m really sorry about what I said earlier. I let my self esteem get in the way of what really was a sweet gesture. You didn’t have to post about me at all, and I should just be happy that you love me enough to tell the world.”

Josh shrugged, “I just want you to see yourself the way that I see you. No matter what you’re wearing or what expression you’re making, I’m always going to think you’re the most perfect person in the world.”

“I know and I love you for that. I’m working on it, I really am, and I need to remember that when you post those pictures.”

“And I need to remember that you aren’t used to having your face spread across the internet the same way that I am.”

You smiled and nodded. Josh walked over and pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on top of your head.

“I love you so much. And I’m sorry again for how I acted.”

“Apology accepted. I love you too, and I want you to remember that,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I will.”

[bxngtan-fanfics]

On the whole “English Album business” (REPOST from main blog)

I’ve seen some people who think that it’s not a big deal that BTS are being bombarded with English Album requests. I’m here to clear up exactly why people should stop and why it’s disrespectful and entitled to expect it. Read to the end, and PLEASE reblog!!!

Language Barrier

First off, BTS are Korean. We all know this. Their first language is Korean and Korean and English are not similar languages and trying to learn English as a second language is very hard. My mother works with ESL kids, and even at a young age, they struggle with such complex and abstract grammar rules. Adults have less ability to learn languages like kids, so automatically BTS will have an even harder time learning English. While RM is fluent, he cannot, and should not have to carry the weight of the entire team. BTS has already worked their asses off to give us the English they do speak. Appreciate their hard work. Realize that trying to make an entire English album would be difficult, unfair to BTS’s work ethic and force them to translate lyrics that were meant to be Korean. This means many of BTS’s beautiful lyrics would be lost in translation, and it would sound much more dumbed down and might even change the entire feel and meaning of the songs. That would ruin so much of an album that what point is there anymore? Making BTS sound Western is to lose a huge part of their sound and style.

Their Korean Pride

BTS love their country. They love Korea and they are so proud to be Korean. Jimin makes jokes that he was born in Busan first, lording it over Jungkook playfully. Suga will literally never shut up about being a D-boy, and that he’s from Daegu. BTS was so proud of their cities they made a song about it - Ma City. They didnt even care when it got banned for the song being what it was. If they could tell the world how much they loved their town, they didn’t care. Also, one of my favorite BTS songs is Satoori Rap. This song was the first idol song to feature Satoori (or certain Korean dialects) as it’s main point. Most idols have to lose their Satoori when they move to Seoul or they are made fun of or something of the like. The song features the complexities of different Korean dialects and they rap about how sometimes it’s so different the Satoori’s can sound like different languages. Obviously, they put so much pride into where they come from, and they don’t want that to change. Suga has vehemently denied English album propositions before, and a lot of the time in America he doesn’t speak much or just speaks in Korean. He 100% can speak some English, but he doesn’t want to. He could give broken English answers but he knows he sounds better in Korean. He doesn’t want the message he cares about to be lost to translation. He’s Korean, and he loves it. They all do. They smile so wide and are so happy when international ARMY’s learn some Korean, know the fanchants, or sing along to Korean lyrics. Why take that joy away from them? They love when other people learn to love Korea through them. Don’t make them give that up. Asking them to make an album in English is like asking them to give up so much of their pride in their culture. That’s asking them to turn away from a place and a country they love with all their hearts. Essentially, trying to make BTS more westernized is… Well… Kinda trying to white-wash them and make them pretend they’re western when they aren’t. And that’s wrong.

It’s Unfair

English may be a very widespread language. So is Chinese and Spanish. Western artists are not forced or pushed into learning another language because they are popular in that country, much less pressured into making an album in a different language. Why on Earth would you expect BTS to do it? Don’t make them set this precedent for Kpop in the Western world. They are pioneers right now, and what they do shape American opinions on Kpop. If another K-artist makes it big in America, they will probably have to follow similar steps to BTS. No Korean artist should be forced to learn English or write English songs unless they want to.

It’s Entitled to Think You Deserve it

You don’t. No one does. BTS are their own people and they give so much to ARMY no matter what. You may think an English album would be connecting with them better, but you’re wrong. Korean fans won’t understand the songs. How will the album fare in their home country? An English album could fucking flop and it’s just not worth it. If you want to know what they’re saying so bad, look up lyric translations that fansites work their butts off to give you, assholes.

You Love The Way Korean Culture Has Shaped Them

Don’t deny it. They’re respectful, sweet, keep their noses clean and never step too far out of line. Korean culture and the Kpop industry is what made them that way. If they were Western, they’d most likely be much more closed off, have less of a bond with their fans. They wouldn’t dance or make covers for you. They wouldn’t make Bangtan bombs or half of the events they do in Korea. They wouldn’t rush to make so many songs and wouldn’t worry about taking a while to come back. Their music videos would be vastly different. Their songs and image would most likely be sexualized worse than it is now. Admit it. You love the way Korean culture and Kpop has shaped them. You can’t have both. You can have a Western artist or a Korean one. Asking BTS to adhere to your American standards and still take what you like about Korean culture with them is appropriating their culture and that’s not okay. BTS may not be a racial minority in Korea, but the U.S. they are, and racism has already reared it’s ugly head on them. Don’t add fuel to the fire.

They Already Accommodate For You

BTS already incorporates English into their songs. If you’ve been a fan for as long as I have, then you noticed that the English in their albums increased the moment they realized how many international fans they actually had. They want you to appreciate that. They want you to hear the English they do put in and know they thought of you. They love international fans, and they try so hard for you. They just try in ways that lets them keep their central identity.

You’re Ignoring What BTS Taught You

BTS have repeatedly said that music is a universal language. Ive heard so many ARMY complain that people don’t understand that not English language music is just as good as English music. How does it look if we demand English music from them now? How does that reflect us as a fandom, us as fans? We seem hypocritical as fuck, and that’s not what we want. BTS taught us that all music can speak to us, no matter the language it’s in. Remember what those seven wonderful young men taught you.

Before anyone comes for me, know I am an American. I like Western Artists. I don’t know Korean, and I only know English. But that doesn’t mean everything I said wasn’t true. If you’re American like me, understand that asking for an English album makes you sound horrible to other ARMY’s. Realize how ignorant and selfish you make Americans sound when you say that stuff. Please. Our reputation already sucks.

Add on if you can, send me asks if you want to ask questions or want me to explain more. Spread this. Please. Reblog this so every ARMY can see it. They need to know why asking for English albums are wrong, not just the fact that it is. Make this known that true fans of BTS only want them to do want they want, not what a society pushes them to do.

BTS deserve their own creative freedom.

[miraculouslyminty-blog]

Bionn Halthcharon’s Basic Journal

im reposting this from my account on the MH Fandom wiki! Its Bad™️ its got that ye olde prototype flavor and it was before i got a grip on his character and the comment about his power source being held in an alternate dimension? its a scrapped concept now. his power source is in his body.

Hey! So instead of starting this thing off with a entry, I'm just gonna write down what I can do in the first place. Why? Well if you had super cool gadgets and abilities wouldn't you?

Here's some of the stuff Dad decided to outfit me with! But I've only got one ability that I got from my mom.

The ability to create interdimensional portals to teleport anywhere and any part of me wherever I want. It's actually pretty handy for when I'm lazy and don't feel like moving. Also I can access alternate dimensions including a pocket dimension where I keep my main power source.

I also come with nanotechnology which I can use to create whatever I want. Anything made with my nanites is surprisingly solid. It can also pick up other monsters and things. Things just kinda float in this wobbly blue forcefield.

Super strength to pick up the real heavy stuff.

I have a program that lets me control technology. It's good for accessing hidden files and getting past firewalls on a combooter but I can't do anything super intense like create a giant computer monster. That would be cool though.

I breath fire because of a flamethrower in my system. A tiny trail of fire does leave my mouth whenever I sigh but a bigger burst of fire tends to come out whenever I sneeze. ....I've set a lot of stuff on fire this way. I'm not proud of it...

July 17th

I still can't understand why we had to move to New Salem. I mean, just because I busted up a few buildings and half the city all those times isn't a good reason to move. The people of Motor City were safe in the end and that's important. Besides, the city repairs itself, so no big deal right? Well, I guess it's a pretty big deal. So Mom and Dad talked it over and decided to pack up everything and move to New Salem. And by "they" I mean Mom said "We are moving to New Salem, don't argue with me." She runs the house, so who the heck are we to question her decision? We do, but it just runs the risk of getting yelled at. So now here we are.

This place is okay, I guess. It's bigger than Motor City and that's kinda jarring. We're still getting settled into the place but once we get stuff wrapped up, we'll explore more of town. Might have to wait until tomorrow seeing how long it's gonna take Dad to set up my recharge station.

July 18th

I must've shut down sometime yesterday because I woke up in my room. And I'm not gonna lie, I freaked out. I mean, I guess it happens when you move somewhere and are in a place you've never been in before? I wouldn't really know since this is the first time it's happened. I'm in a new house after all. Speaking of the house, this is bigger than the old house back in Motor City. It's nice. It's a great change that I like because we lived in a tiny apartment back home. A plus side is that I can distance myself further away from my little brother, Pat-ick. I can't STAND how obnoxious he gets at times. Not to mention how he picks fights with me every two seconds. The worst part is that it usually works.

And then we fight and Mom yells at us. Then we stop shouting and awkwardly sit there. Anyway, we explored more of New Salem today and it's a pretty sweet place. I dunno but maybe it's because I've never seen a town like this before. But at the same time it feels wrong to be here. Maybe I'm just so used to living in Motor City. Or maybe it's because I still don't get why we're here. Also they have a Maul here. It's been a while since I've seen one of those. Going in there was so weird though!

I mean... if felt like we were stepping into a food-scented fantasy land. It was so clawesome! We did see more of the town and you know what? I think I'm starting to like this place.

August 18th

You know what I like to do when I wake up? Stretch, flop back onto the bed and just lay there. It's a good way to start the morning actually. And then I make myself get up and get dressed. Coming into the living room was weird... Mom, Dad and my sister Shelley were talking about a place called Monster High and how it's time she went to school again. They were seriously thinking about this?! I knowy sister enough to know that even if she's bright and sunshine-y, her anxiety would send her through the roof of that school in five minutes flat. I pointed out only to have a bombshell dropped on me.

I was going with her. Way to just throw it out there Mom and Dad. The last time I was even in a school was when I was little. And I had to be pulled out due to huge stress issues. For all I know, this'll be a repeat of elementary school all over again! Except I'm taller. And with different people. To add insult to injury, Mom told us we were already registered and that our first day would be in September.

Sometimes I really question what goes through Mom's head.

September 6th

Y'know what's a lousy way to start the day? Arguing with Pat-ick, that's how. It was over something dumb as usual, which normally how all our fights start. Mom stopped the fight and well I got most of the blame. And Mom broke her yelling records. Which is nice and all but I really don't think I needed to be shouted at for two hours. It hurts a manster's feelings y'know? Anyways after that, Shelley decided we needed a day to fang out and calm down, which I don't mind considering that the new scaremester's right around the corner.

So we did what all the cool kids do: we went to the Maul. Shelley decided to take me shopping for new clothes since my old ones don't really suit me. She's a literal ray of sunshine and I'm okay with that. It was a pick whatever I want kind of deal too. So I just pieced together what I liked and well, I have a really colorful jacket. Also when she saw me in my new stuff, she looked so happy. I even helped her out her out with her shopping. I know what she likes. You have to, it's sibling code.

Also we went by a place called the Coffin Bean. We don't even like coffee but we needed a break and a snack so why not? And I'm not gonna lie, those strawscary tarts were pretty clawsome. Then we decided to go ahead and go home but on the way out we kinda didn't pay attention to where we were going and we bumped into three ghouls. I don't think I've ever said sorry that much in my entire un-life. Aside from that, going to Monster High doesn't seem that bad now that I think about it...

[wabbitseezonarchive]

MUSIC MEME  ♫

RULES: - share four songs / pieces of music that represent your muse - repost, don’t reblog

tagged by:    @krupnick  ( AS LONG AS I’M ANSWERING                        MEMES, here’s one from like 12 years ago lol ) tagging:         nah

CELEBRITY STATUS || Marianas Trench

 ‘  i traded in who i’ve been, for shiny celebrity skin.   i like to push it and push it until my luck is over.  ‘

I really associate this song with Daffy, for the fact that, a lot of the time he fools himself into thinking that the stuff he’s saying is true. But really, under it all, he knows it’s all just an act. ‘Mirrors and smoke’ like it says in the song. And putting on that act, acting larger than life, and trying to charm everyone all the time --- it’s exhausting. And sometimes, when he comes back to himself a bit and realizes that he’s kind of lost himself in it all ‘traded in who he’d been for shiny celebrity skin’, he thinks privately to himself how much he just wants to be himself and let that whole act drop. Which he doesn’t for various other reasons that I could get into later haha.

OH NO!  || Marina and the Diamonds

‘  ‘cause i feel like i’m the worst,     so i always act like i’m the best.  ‘

Alright, this song is another one that i’ve always associated with Daffy. It’s kind of in the same vein as the previous song, but from a slightly different perspective. Like, I HC that Daff has periods where he thinks he’s on top of the fucking world, and then periods where he’s hit with reality and some humbleness seeps in (like in the previous song); AND THEN moments where he feels like a total second banana fucking failure--- and that’s what this song represents. 

Like he knows that sweeping all of his flaws under the metaphorical carpet is really fucking him up big time. He knows that placing so many expectations on himself that he can’t possibly live up to isn’t good for his emotional well-being, and when he inevitably doesn’t live up to his own crazy expectations, he just gets DOWN, man.

But he still does it, and he can’t let it go. Because deep down his self-esteem is such shit. He wants to grab that praise and respect and admiration and love all for himself, by tearing others down, by being selfish, by praising himself and constantly trying to feed his ego --- like it’s all to make himself feel important and to convince himself that he’s loved and worthy of being loved.

Which is dumb on his part bc he’s putting so much pressure on himself, when literally all he has to do to be loved is to not try, and to simply accept his flaws and realize that no one’s perfect and he’s interesting and lovable and stuff without being the #1 BEST AT EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD. 

Like he thinks he’s unlovable, so he acts like an asshole trying to grab that love for himself. So he’s becoming his own ‘self-fulfilled prophecy’, like it says in the song.

BILLIONAIRE  ||  Bruno Mars

This song isn’t nearly as deep as the others lmao. It’s pretty straight-forward and literal. Daffy just wants fame and glory and to be rich. All of this stuff. This whole song. One thing though, is that as soon as he felt like, fulfilled, he’d actually start thinking about ppl other than himself ( maslow’s hierarchy of neeeeeds )  like it jumps from selfishly filling his own desires in the song, to giving back to people. Because ultimately what he wants is to be loved and respected, and he’d find out that he could get that by giving back to people. And SURPRISE SURPRISE, helping people and making them happy actually makes HIM happy too. So i do associate it with that, but yeah haha, this song is basically exactly literal.

SOME NIGHTS  ||  fun. 

‘  some nights i stay up, cashin’ in my bad luck,    some nights i call it a draw.    some nights i wish that my lips could build a castle,    some nights i wish they’d just fall off.  ‘ AND

‘  some nights i wish that this all would end,   ‘cause i could use some friends for a change.    and some nights i’m scared you’ll forget me again,    and some night i always win, i always win...  ‘

THIS SONG. THIS SONG RIGHT HERE OKAY. I have so many feelings associated with this song ♥ like, okay. I could go so in-depth about everything I’ve thought about regarding this song. There are so many different aspects to it that I ascribe to Daff’s character ( i’m not joking when i say i think about things to music lmao). So I’ll just go over what it means generally to me for now:

Okay, so generally, to me, this song represents Daff’s indecisiveness about who he is and who he wants to be and what he stands for and things. Like, especially now with how he’s getting to know his past wives and attempting to reconnect with his children and smooth things over and take responsibility for his actions, he’s learning more and more about how his actions affect others, and he’s actually beginning to care. But then he still juggles with that deep-seeded ‘me me me i look out for myself’ mentality that’s been like drilled deep into his subconscious by now. So he’s juggling with himself.

The verses that i described up above are basically him flip-flopping between moods, kinda like i described in ' Oh no! ’. like he feels on top of the world sometimes, and sometimes he feels like ‘aw shit why’d i say that, that was so fucking dumb’. Sometimes he charms people and does things right and everything works out for him. And sometimes (lots of the time actually lmao) he just royally shoves his own foot in his own mouth and screws himself over by being a selfish asshole.

And when he reflects back on it, he wonders what he even ‘stands for’, or like, what he’s trying to accomplish, because he knows that making people feel like crap isn’t what he wants to stand for. But he doesn’t know what his ultimate goal in life is either. Because it’s not ‘glory’ or ‘riches’ or ‘being worshipped’. It’s just being loved genuinely and making people happy through his own expression of who he actually is. He’s just got to get over his shit self-esteem and realize that’s what he ultimately wants first.

But until then, he’s got no fucking clue what he’s doing.