#sometimes i feel like being an artist is just leaving a trail of crap behind me as i walk forward in life

[reineyday]

why does being an artist so often mean accumulating stuff 🙃

[atimeofyourlife]

A coffee delivery

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: coffee shop/ tattoo au | rated: t | wc: 906 | tags: coffee shop au, tattoo au, tattoo artist eddie munson, barista steve harrington, pre steddie

Steve had something of a love/hate relationship with the morning shift at the coffee shop. On one hand, it meant he didn't have to take part in the evening cleaning, and he had most of the afternoon free. But on the other hand, it meant he had to be up early and had to deal with opening and set up.  Rude customers occurred at any time of the day. In the morning it was the customers angry that they weren't willing to open thirty minutes before their scheduled time. In the evening, they were angry that they didn't stay open over an hour past their scheduled closing time. There were two main things that made up for the rude customers. Being an independent coffee shop over a chain meant they didn't have a corporate office to answer to, so the boss allowed them to talk back and deny service to any customer that was too rude. And the nice customers generally outweighed the bad ones, the ones who would tip generously, who were always polite and kind, who would stick up for them against the bad ones.

But Steve's favorite part of the job was the guy who worked in the tattoo store a few buildings down on the other side of the street. A guy named Eddie, who would come in five days a week without fail. Always ordering a large caramel latte with two extra shots. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes before the tattoo shop was due to open. His name was Eddie, and he always made the time to flirt with Steve when he picked up his coffee.

One morning, Steve was just waiting for Eddie to come in for his coffee. It had passed the normal time he would come in, and Steve felt a little worried. Eddie had, as usual, said the day before that he would be back the next day. Steve was staring out the window, on a lookout for Eddie. Unable to keep himself from getting anxious as the time ticked by. But then, about thirty minutes after Eddie would have usually walked in, Steve saw him run down the street, obviously late to open the tattoo store. He let out a sigh of relief, but couldn't help feeling disappointed that he wouldn't get to see Eddie.

"Look, if you're that upset that you don't get to see and flirt with him today, just make the coffee and take it over to him." Robin said from beside Steve. "We're not busy, and the lunchtime rush won't start for at least thirty minutes. Just don't leave me alone too long."

"Robin, you're the best." He hugged her quickly, before turning to start making the drink.

"Just write your number on it, or at least try to get a date. It's getting painful watching you both flirt everyday."

Steve ignored her, writing Eddie's name on the to go cup, and finishing the drink. He was about to walk out from behind the counter, but stopped and one of the cookies that Eddie sometimes ordered. He was nervous as he left the store and crossed the street. Unsure if this was crossing a line, or if Eddie would think Steve was stalking him.

Steve pushed open the door to the tattoo shop, and could see Eddie cleaning furiously.

"Hi, sorry. I'm running a touch late, so if-" Eddie started, trailing off as he turned around and saw Steve.

"Er, hi. You didn't come in this morning, and I saw you run past and it was obvious you were late. So I thought I would bring you coffee and a cookie?" Steve replied, holding them out to Eddie.

"Oh. Thanks, Stevie. You are a life saver. My van crapped out this morning so I had to take the bus, but it was running late, and part of the road was closed. And I had an appointment booked for opening, and I was already late. But the client hasn't shown up yet." Eddie rambled, taking the coffee and the cookie from Steve, instantly taking a drink of the coffee.

"Sounds like a real rough morning. I hope I managed to help make it a little better for you."

"You made it so much better. You are an angel among men right now."

Steve found himself getting lost in Eddie's eyes, and jumped as he heard the bell over the door signaling someone coming in.

"I've got an appointment this morning? I know I'm a bit late for it, I did try to call-" The customer said.

"Of course. I just need a few more minutes to finish setting up." Eddie replied. He placed the coffee down on a desk and grabbed a business card, scribbling something down on it, before handing it to Steve. "I'm really going to have to get on, but I'll see you around, Steve."

"Uh, yeah. I'm going to have to get back before Robin tries to kill me for taking too long." Steve waved, before leaving and heading back to the coffee shop.

"What's that?" Robin asked as soon as Steve rejoined her, her eyes focused on the card in Steve's hand.

"Eddie gave it to me." Steve replied, turning it over and looking at what Eddie had written on it for the first time. It was a phone number tagged with the words 'call me' and a smiley face. Yeah, the trip across the street had been successful.

[screensirenfic]

Menthol Cigarettes - Chapter 35

I barely slept a wink that night; too busy tossing and turning as I tried to come up with a reason why this had happened. Why he had done this to me.

I mean; it wasn’t like she actually saw him doing anything, and El insisted that he was fully dressed, but still; it was pretty obvious what was going on.

She liked to believe that that girl was in trouble; that somehow, for some reason Billy was hurting her, even after I tried to explain the ‘other’ possibilities that seemed much more likely.

I don’t know if I’d have preferred it; honestly?!

I mean; sometimes Billy acted a total psycho, and I knew that it wasn’t always aimed at me, but was I really gonna talk myself into this instead of just accepting he was cheating?!

So, that was why we were here, marching up to Max’s house, because El honestly believed that girl was in trouble, and I was too much of a paranoid bitch to leave everything to chance.

“It’s going to start pouring soon. We should be at the mall, or watching a movie, or something...” Said Max, for once being the naysayer in the situation.

“You don’t believe me?” Eleven asked; still set on confirming her vision with her own two eyes.

“I believe you saw some super weird stuff; totally!” Max reassured her; unwilling to come across as the skeptic, no matter what the reality was.

“But you said Mike’s senses you in there before, right?” Max asked, trying her best to sound reasonable.

“So maybe it was just like that. Maybe Billy sensed you somehow.”

Maybe she’d like to think that was true, but needless to say, it had Eleven’s hackles up; mine too, although that was for an entirely different reason.

I mean; could he really be that much of a scumbag?!

I thought we’d gotten over this months ago; Billy finally realising that just because he had a reputation as a ladies man, didn’t mean he had to keep it up when he was in a relationship.

Of course; this wasn’t just a simple case of harmless flirting.

This was a full on, hardcore fu-

“His car’s not here.”

Max stated; her and El having managed to trail ahead of all my fretting as we now stood in front of the house.

“Are you sure you both wanna do this?” She asked, to which both nodded resolutely.

Whatever laid in wait inside Billy’s room; I could handle it.

I’d already had to deal with much worse.

——————————————————-

Sometimes I was grateful my upbringing hadn’t been exactly conventional, and this was one of those times…

Some girl’s dads taught them to change a tire, or put up a shelf, but mine had taught me to shoot rifles, throw punches, and in this case; pick locks.

Not to say it was an easy task, especially with two teenagers breathing down your neck like this was an episode of Jeopardy!

“Almost got it…” I said; thankful that my bobby pin hadn’t decided to break on me yet.

A click sounded, and the pin turned.

“There…” I smiled, turning the handle and pushing the door open wide.

“Why do I get the feeling we’re gonna find all kinds of wrong in here?” Max asked, lingering by the doorway whilst I walked straight in, already intimately familiar with the room in question.

I don’t exactly know what we were planning to find in here.

I mean; I’m pretty sure we all had very different explanations of Billy’s weird behaviour; some wilder than others.

El was expecting to find a body, or something; too many late nights spent watching cop shows with dad to have any real grasp on what to expect in an investigation.

Max was…

Well; I’m not entirely sure what Max was looking for. Probably something to prove her brothers innocence; as weird as that sounded when referring to a boy like Billy Hargrove.

And I wanted to find… Well; nothing.

I wanted to find the place exactly how I’d left it in the vain hope that it would put my anxiety to bed, and I could go on living like I had before; with one dedicated, if a little over-possessive boyfriend, who’d never dream of hurting me.

El launched straight into investigator mode, heading over to his closet to sort through hanger after hanger of double denim and cotton shirts, whilst I stuck to the edges of the room; eyes and fingertips skimming over the culmination of my boyfriend’s existence.

It didn’t look like the room of a cheater.

Not with copious amounts of photographs of us together plastered on whatever surface they’d stick to.

Whether it be cute little polaroids of us in the Camaro when the sun hit just right and made us look like movie stars; or dumb photo booth print outs where we’d pull faces that he’d never let see the light of day outside his safe space; he kept them all.

My hand lingered over a particularly memorable one; a polaroid just bordering on decent of the pair of us in bed together, my bare chest barely covered by the sheet as Billy held the camera high in the air, grinning up at it whilst I buried my face in his neck.

I remembered the day he took that photo;

I’d just bought him that camera as a late birthday present, and he was complaining that I could’ve got him something more fun; “fun” being the key word here that usually translated as “obscene” to Billy.

I’d insisted that we could have plenty of “fun” with his polaroid camera, which proceeded in him coercing me into letting him take a couple of “artistic” shots; cuing the start of his little photograph collection that he was so keen on expanding.

After he’d finished, and taken liberties to indulging in a near dizzying amount of birthday sex, he’d reached across to take “one last photo”; this being one he could keep on his wall, despite my insistence otherwise.

I’d been nervous and embarrassed of it back then; not wanting him to get in trouble if his dad happened to find it taped to his mirror of something, but now; I could finally see the beauty in it.

Billy looked so relaxed and carefree; like it was honestly one of the happiest moments in his life, and even with my face half hidden against his skin, I was smiling too; a clear sign that despite my protests, I was loving every minute of-

“Ugh! Gag me with a spoon!”

Max groaned; having stumbled across Billy’s so-called “underwear” drawer in his nightstand, which was actually filled with girlie magazines and “souvenir” pairs of my panties.

“Hey; Lo. This has got your name on it-“

I darted over to her, snatching the labelled envelope from her hand, absolutely adamant that the kid should never be exposed to its contents.

“Trust me. You do not want to see that.” I warned, watching as the kid’s face crinkled in disgust; probably already guessing exactly what Billy would keep in there.

I shoved the envelope back in the drawer, slamming it shut; because who knew what else Billy kept in there, and with that Max took the opportunity to further the parameters of her search to the bathroom, El following behind.

———————————

It was weird being here without Billy, looking at his things with a strange sort of detachment which I couldn’t quite grasp.

Everything in this room held so many memories for me; whether it be the spicy scent of his cologne triggering flashbacks of his arms around me, or the sight of his leather jacket slumped on a chair; my mind racing bak to all the times I’d seen him in it before and felt my heartbeat pick up.

I walked over to it, picking it up and just holding it for a minute, thumbs running over all the bumps and creases in the worn leather, reminding me of the first time he’d asked me to dance; a once bittersweet memory gotten sweeter with time and circumstance.

He’d been such an ass back then.

Still was, if I was being honest; but I’d learnt to love that about him, even when he drove me crazy half the time.

I wondered if he’d known back then?

That beneath all that macho horse crap, and maschoist sadism, that he’d seen the possibilities of what this really could be.

I lifted his jacket to my face, inhaling the scent of cigarette smoke and stale cologne that always seemed to put my mind at ease.

“Lola;  I think you’re gonna want to see this…”

���——————————

I walked into Billy’s bathroom, fully expecting my world to come tumbling down at the inevitable evidence of his cheating.

Instead; my heart dropped for another reason;

“Where did you find that?”

My eyes fell upon the red and yellow form of a lifeguard whistle; blood bright against the yellow plastic as it hand from Max’s hand.

“From the trash.” Max replied; picking up the dread in my tone.

“Do you think it could be-“

I opened my mouth to express denial, when Eleven interrupted;

“No. It’s hers.”

[rosedavid]

If At First You Don’t Succeed...// A Tyrus one shot

Or, Cyrus gets his first ‘F’ and struggles to cope with it.

also, if you couldn’t tell, this was me hardcore projecting my feelings lol. I hope you enjoy this bursting of my emotions on the page. 

...

Cyrus has always prided himself on being the perfect student. Even if he isn’t athletic like Buffy, artistic like Andi, or musical like Jonah, he’s always been the teacher’s pet. In elementary school, Cyrus helped clean up the classroom at recess. He was always the first student entrusted with the class pet, or the student who was always “in charge” when the teacher left for a minute. This continued into middle school, as well. Things changed a little, but for the most part they stayed the same. Cyrus still always got his work done on time with impeccable grades. He still always raised his hand in class and was the first to volunteer. His teachers praised him for his dedication. So, even though Cyrus may not have a niche like his other friends, he has a sense of self that’s based in his academic achievement.

Of course, like any other proactive student, when Cyrus reaches high school, he strives for more. He fills up his schedule with honors classes and extra curriculars, hoping to get a head start toward his future. Walking in on the first day of freshman year, he expected classes to be harder. He thought he was completely prepared for the challenge, prepared to rise to the top once again. After all, academics has seemed to be his specialty throughout his life. As it turns out, though, he was wrong. 

It starts and ends with a test. One stupid test, his first test of the year. It’s a history test, a subject which Cyrus hasn’t taken much since elementary school. Nonetheless, he doesn’t worry too much about it, at least not more than normal. That’s why he’s so surprised when, a few days later, his teacher hands him back his test face down. He turns it over.

F

He got an F, meaning fail.

Cyrus failed his first high school exam. The familiar A at the top of his sheet has been replaced with a grade he’s never gotten in his entire life, not even in P.E. class (which doesn’t even technically count since it’s not truly academic).

The paper shakes in his grasp. His fingers tighten their hold around the paper, wrinkling and crunching the smooth page. Students chatter in the background, but all Cyrus hears is the noise of crinkling paper and his breath quickening. He crumples the test into a ball of paper, but it doesn’t get rid of the mark it’s already made on him. The big, circled letter continues to taunt him.

When the bell rings, Cyrus rushes out of classes faster than ever before. He’s thankful that this is his last class of the day, as he isn’t sure if he could manage to sit through another class after what just happened.

It feels so stupid to get upset. It’s just one test grade; he can do better next time. But to Cyrus, it’s more than that. It’s like his entire identity is at the risk of crumbling. He can’t be the teacher’s pet or the top of his class with a failed test. What does he even have if he doesn’t have this? Sure, he’s got interests and hobbies like anyone else, but he has no other talents like the rest of his friends other than this.

Suddenly, the air around him feels too thick. There are too many people with too little space. All Cyrus wants to do is curl up in his bed and cry, probably followed by constant studying for the next week. He chokes up a bit, barely containing his sobs as he stares at the paper still clutched in his hand.

His phone buzzes. It’s the group chat with all of his friends, reminding everyone about their weekly meetup at The Spoon. Crap. Cyrus completely forgot, but there’s no way he can go, not in this state. Even though he knows everyone would understand if he told them the truth, he feels too ashamed and embarrassed about it. He can’t face that right now, so instead he makes up an excuse about feeling sick and not being able to come. His friends’ message him back “feel better soon” messages, but Cyrus doesn’t have the heart to read through them. Actually, he realizes faintly, that he is starting to feel kind of sick. His stomach churns uncomfortably, and he the world spins around him. His hands are still shaking, and his throat feels dry.

Somehow, though, he manages to make it open one step at a time. The sense of relief he feels when he steps in his front door is indescribable. Thankfully, no one is home for now. Cyrus drops his backpack at the front door, not bothering to put it away. He then climbs the stairs to his room, still holding his test, and collapses across his bed with a sob.

Once the first tear drops, he can’t prevent them from flowing. He doesn’t know how long he cries. He remembers throwing his test at the wall in anger, sobs shaking his shoulders violently. He remembers falling into his pillows, sobs ebbing off and eventually morphing into silent tears. At some point, he gets too exhausted to cry. Instead, he lays there in misery, feeling disappointed in himself and wondering how disappointed his parents will be in him. After all, they’ve always praised how smart he is. A’s are not just something to strive for, but something to expect in his family.

Sometime later, between his anxious thoughts, the doorbell rings. Cyrus doesn’t want to move; he just wants to lie there, comprehending what happened. But then the doorbell rings again, followed by knocking. Cyrus figures he needs to get up just in case it’s something important. He rolls out of bed tiredly, rubbing at his eyes as he heads down to the front door.

What he doesn’t expect to see is TJ, standing outside the door with a container of what looks like soup. Out of all the people Cyrus doesn’t want to see him like this, TJ is probably at the top of the list. Andi, Buffy, and Jonah have all seen Cyrus at some of his worst, but TJ? TJ definitely hasn’t, and Cyrus worries what will happen if he does. Now, it seems he’ll find out.

“Hey Underdog, since you said you weren’t feeling well, I decided to bring you over some soup,” TJ explains nervously.

“Uh,” Cyrus beings, clearing his throat, “Thanks for the soup, but you should probably go. Wouldn’t want you to…get sick.”

Of course, TJ sees right through Cyrus’s lie. Curse TJ for knowing him so well. As TJ inspects him closer, he notices that something else is up. After all, besides from the gritty voice, Cyrus isn’t really acting that sick. Normally, Cyrus is completely incapacitated when he’s sick as well as whiny and complaining. Now, though, he’s acting the complete opposite; withdrawn and quiet.

“Cy, what’s going on?” TJ asks softly, a voice only reserved for him.

He swallows, “I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Have you been crying?”

The now familiar burning sensation behind his eyes starts again. His vision blurs, turning TJ into a blob of colors.

“I—” Cyrus chokes off, not able to continue.

“Woah, hey,” TJ shushes, coming in and closing the door behind him. “You’re ok.”

Cyrus shakes his head. “No I’m not. I’m a failure.”

“What—why would you say that?”

Unable to answer, Cyrus just lets a few tears escape from his eyes. The tears leave scorching trails across his cheeks as they fall. TJ steps closer, gently moving his fingers up to cup Cyrus’s cheek. With the pad of his thumb, he reaches out and swipes away the wetness.

“Let’s sit down, okay?”

Numbly, Cyrus allows TJ to guide him over to the couch. As they sit, TJ keeps a firm grasp on Cyrus’s hand, caressing the backside of it.

After a few beats of silence, TJ asks, “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m embarrassed,” Cyrus admits in a quiet tone, face already burning at the outburst of emotions he’s been displaying.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, not around me. I won’t judge you, I promise.”

TJ meets his eyes. Although Cyrus knows that TJ would never judge him, he doesn’t truly breakdown until they make eye contact. The lovingness and support evident in TJ’s eyes makes Cyrus feel more comforted already. Even though he’s still embarrassed and scared and feels stupid, looking at TJ makes him want to talk about it. He needs to talk about it.

“I failed my history test,” Cyrus finally admits timidly with a sniffle, “and now I just don’t know who I am anymore.”

TJ squeezes his hand. “What do you mean?”

“I just…I’ve always been the perfect student. I’ve always been great at school. But now that this happened, I feel like I have nothing else going for me. I’m not athletic like you or artistic like Buffy or musical like Jonah. School was my talent…but now I’m scared that it’s not anymore.”

“Failing one test isn’t the end of the world,” TJ says. “You’ll work hard, harder than ever. I know you. You’re smart, Cyrus, and one failed test will not change that. But that’s not it. School isn’t your only talent!”

“But—”

“But nothing. Cyrus Goodman, you are talented in so many ways. You’re talented in being a friend. In fact, you’re one of the most supportive, kindest people I’ve ever met, and I’m sure everyone else would agree. You’re talented with how much effort and care you put into everything. No matter what, you always try your best to succeed. You are so talented, Cyrus, and that’s why I like you so much.”

Now, Cyrus’s eyes water for a different reason. He scoots closer to TJ so their shoulders are rubbing against each other. He leans down to rest his head against TJ’s shoulder, nose nudging into his neck. In turn, TJ wraps his arm around Cyrus’s shoulders, tugging him in closer. Then, they just breathe.

“Thank you,” Cyrus whispers fondly. “I’m sorry I was spiraling.”

“It’s okay,” TJ replies. “It happens to all of us. But you were there for me when I was struggling with my dyscalculia, and I’ll always be there for you, too.”

Cyrus snuggles deeper into his side, nuzzling into TJ’s sweatshirt. TJ chuckles fondly.

“I love your sweatshirts, they’re so soft,” Cyrus murmurs. “You’re soft. You’re the best.”

“You’re the best, too. And listen, I can help you with History. I just so happen to be really good at it. We could do study sessions together after school. You help me with math, and I can help you with history?”

The previous tension building inside Cyrus diminishes. Although he still feels anxious about his grade, he feels more at peace with it now. The looming terror from before has all but disappeared because TJ is here. TJ is here to help him and comfort him and support him. His friends are here, too, to help him along the way. With them all by his side, he feels like he can accomplish anything.

“That sounds great. Do you want to start now?” Cyrus yawns.

TJ smiles. “As appealing as that sounds, I think you need a nap. And I am not opposed to taking one, either.”

Cyrus goes to argue, but then realizes just how heavy his eyelids feel. A sigh escapes his lips as he relaxes further, adjusting himself until he and TJ are leaning against each other in a comfortable position on the couch.

“Tomorrow?” Cyrus wonders sleepily, eyes already drifting shut.

“I’ll be there.”

Read my other Andi Mack Fanfiction here!

[demetxri]

Denmark/Nyo!Netherlands, modern jobs AU - Mr. Østergaard teaches literature, yet he finds himself in art class with a very interesting model. | approximately 2790 words, rating T | Written for @neddenweek 2019, prompt was ‘work/jobs’ | Also available on Ao3

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Maartje van der Velden = nyo!Netherlands Mathias Østergaard = Denmark

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ii. work/jobs

When Mathias arrives at school, the first thing he does besides getting himself a cup of coffee is check his schedule. One of the pros of teaching is that his schedule is usually the same each week and he knows what to expect, but one of its cons is that because his schedule isn’t filled to the brim with classes, he sometimes has to pick up classes of his ill colleagues. The school has a policy of not unnecessarily cancelling classes and today just happens to be one of the days he has to stand in for the usual art teacher in his usually free morning.

Sighing to himself, he’s quick to down his coffee in one go despite its scalding heat. The Dane pops a piece of gum in his mouth, the taste of mint teasing his taste buds. He’s well aware of the fact that his students don’t like the scent of coffee early in the morning and frankly, he doesn’t like coffee breath either. Mathias gathers his things and leaves for the art classroom well before the bell rings so he can check around for a programme.

Upon unlocking the classroom, the teacher is greeted with a programme written on the whiteboard, as well as a multitude of artworks by famous artists decorating the walls. Today’s date indicates that all senior year classes will be doing live model drawing. Crap. He hopes the teacher at least left some kind of note or whatever in case of illness. Unfortunately for him, Feliciano was never very thorough when it came to informing his colleagues and the note Mathias finds on the teacher’s desk only reads ‘The students know what to do, please welcome make my model feel welcome!’. Running a hand through blonde tresses, he lets himself sink in the chair behind the desk, head banging against the desk in slight annoyance. He’s never had to stand in for an art teacher, what’s he supposed to do now? He supposes he can just let the students do their thing.

Mathias groans to himself, not noticing the person entering the classroom as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He needs more coffee, preferably extra strong, because it’s too early. The sound of a throat being cleared catches him off guard and the blond almost falls out of his desk chair. “Jesus!” He exclaims, a hand dramatically clutching at his chest when sapphires meet emeralds. The Dane finds himself staring into the eyes of a tall woman with long, dirty blonde hair tied in a braid. He doesn’t recognise her, but somehow her face seems familiar with its high cheekbones and sharp gaze that could kill someone with just one glance. Despite the resting bitch face, Mathias can’t deny that she is beautiful; the grace with which she moves captivating him in more senses than one, even if it’s as simple as brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Her voice is nothing like he expects it to be, it’s rough around the edges and yet still sounds like what velvet feels on his skin. For a moment Mathias is at a loss of words. Where he usually has something witty to remark or just a cheerful comment, he’s gasping like a fish out of water, both shocked and surprised like a deer caught in the headlights. “I--” He inhales sharply, blinking twice before he is finally able to find his voice again. Whatever spell this woman has cast on him slowly wearing off. “It’s quite alright! I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be…” He trails off, looking her over once again. “Well, this beautiful,” he continues, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he chuckles. The compliment earns him a roll of her eyes as the woman shucks off her coat, revealing loose fitting clothing. “Probably to make it easier on herself to undress,” Mathias thinks to himself, quickly looking at his watch to distract himself from her. They still have about ten minutes before the bell rings and the class will be filled with seniors who’ll barely keep it in their pants, even if she’s a stranger. Now that he thinks about it, Feliciano never did write down who the model was and he himself hadn’t even so much as introduced himself either.

Realising his mistake, Mathias is quick to hold out his hand to her, small grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “How rude of me, I didn’t even introduce myself,” he chuckles, grin growing wider when one of her delicate hands slides into his own more calloused hand. “I’m Mathias Østergaard, I teach literature, but Feliciano is ill so I’ve been assigned his class this period.” The mention of the subject he teaches seems to pique the woman’s interest. “Maartje van der Velden. You’re already aware of why I’m here.” The way her name rolls off her tongue makes him wonder how his name would sound from her lips.

“Well, miss Van der Velden, I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing or what I’m supposed to do, but if I can be of any help, please let me know.” Mathias doesn’t beat around the bush, he isn’t too well-versed when it comes to other arts besides literary art and while he does want to impress the lady in front of him, he doubts lying about being knowledgeable on the subject will get him anywhere. The stern expression with what he’d been greeted with grows soft and a small smile curls the corners of Maartje’s lips. “Feliciano didn’t leave you much to go on, did he?” With a shake of her head, she reaches for the note the art teacher left on his desk. “Typical. I guess you don’t really have to do anything then. Except make me feel welcome.” Mathias isn’t sure if he’s hearing a teasing undertone in her voice, his eyes narrowing slightly at her as he tries to read the woman. “I think I can manage that. In fact,” he pauses, checking his watch again to see how much time they have left. A little over five minutes, he could probably get both of them something to drink before the class comes in. There’s a coffee machine down the hall for the very, very addicted teachers; there are plenty of those running around, including his best friend Lukas.

“How do you feel about nasty dishwater coffee from a machine?” There it is, that Danish charm he prides himself on and it seems that despite the obvious attempts at not wanting to react much, that charm is also getting to Maartje. “Coffee is coffee. I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth,” she answers, attempting to hide another smile. Mathias thinks that she probably isn’t someone who smiles a lot and his chest swells with pride at that thought. “Great! I’m gonna get you your coffee then, if any students come in before the bell rings, could you tell them I’ll be right there? How do you take your coffee?” Maartje nods in response, answering with a simple ‘black’ and the Dane soon finds himself leaving the classroom to get both of them a drink. On his way out he gets rid of the gum in his mouth, favouring drinking shitty coffee with Feliciano’s choice of model; a fine choice, he thinks of both.

When Mathias returns with two steaming cups of coffee a few minutes later, some of Feliciano’s students have already arrived and taken their place in the classroom, setting up their easels. It seems that they’re already aware of what they have to do. Mathias grins as he enters the room, giving the students a cheery “Good morning!” before he makes his way back to the woman who is hopefully waiting on him with her coffee. He makes it back just in time, the bell ringing as he passes over the carton cup to Maartje, the class filling up with students as he does so. “Here you go,” he beams, taking a sip from his own cup. Of course it tastes like shit. Maartje makes a face after she’s taken a sip. “You weren’t kidding about the coffee being terrible,” she grunts in disgust, making Mathias laugh at her reaction. He still has some time to talk to her as the students settle down, too busy with their own conversation to pay attention to their teacher’s flirtations. “Well, I’ll be ‘teaching’ Feliciano’s students until third period, after that there’s a half an hour break. If you want, I could make you some proper coffee,” he explains with a wink, hoping that she wouldn’t mind spending some more time with him. She ponders on her options for a second, appearing like she’s thinking hard on the options laid out before her. “You know what, I’ll let you know then,” she replies, a mischievous glint in her eyes. If Mathias didn’t already think of her as practically oozing sex on legs, he definitely did now. “Alright then. I guess I best start class then.”

And so Mathias starts class, introducing himself and his lovely assistant for these next three periods. Meanwhile, Maartje toes off her shoes, getting ready to strip out of her clothes and take place on the stool placed in the middle of the classroom, surrounded by the easels and students.

“If I’m correct you all know what you’re supposed to do, mister Vargas didn’t leave me any instructions and since I’m really only surveilling this class, please continue with your assignments. Keep in mind that miss Van der Velden is here for you guys to practice for the upcoming exams, so take this as serious as you would mister Vargas’ teaching instead.” There’s a chorus of noise coming from the students before they go about their work, Mathias himself working on checking his own students’ essays and grading them. Occasionally he glances at the model sitting on the stool in just her underwear, his gaze lingering longer than needed. He can’t help but be remotely jealous of his students, wishing that back when he took art class he had Maartje as a model. Every once in a while the Dane glances at her, sometimes catching her gaze, to which she quickly averts hers when he smiles at her. He isn’t sure if he can see a faint blush crawl on her cheeks, but he’s fairly sure that the interest he has in her is mutual to some degree if her reactions are anything to go by.

Halfway through their second period, Mathias announces to the class that they’re allowed to stretch their legs for five minutes and grab something to drink. He knows that having to concentrate for nearly three periods straight is actually too much to ask teenagers and honestly, he wonders what idiot thought it a wise idea to place that many periods of the same class after each other. Some of the students are ready to practically dash out of the classroom, others are less bothered by staying in. During those five minutes that they’re allowed to leave, the teacher walks around the classroom, admiring the work his students made with the various materials they’re allowed to use. He doesn’t notice that Maartje has gotten up from her spot, digging through her bag for a bottle of water and a vest she keeps in there to keep herself warm during the short break. Only when he finishes his round around the classroom and has complimented his students does he go back to her, knowing that he’s still got a few minutes left until they continue their work again. “So, have you made up your mind yet?”

Maartje slowly blinks her eyes, like a satisfied cat as she takes a sip from her water. She perches herself on one of the free tables near Mathias’ desk, crossing her long legs. Honestly, the Dane is doing his best not to let his gaze wander from her feet up to her hips, following the voluptuous lines of her body. He doesn’t know whether she knows just how alluring and attractive she is. “Hmm…” She hums, her expression neutral, no hint of an answer visible. Usually Mathias is pretty good at reading people, but Maartje is a mystery he hopes he can unravel if she gives him the chance. “I have, but I’ll let you know once we’re done here,” she answers him with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. “You only have to wait another period and a half, I’m sure you can handle that.” And though he wants a straight answer from Maartje, the woman already has him wrapped around her finger and if it means he has to wait, then he will. “I still have enough essays to check, so I won’t get bored waiting.” And boy, is he glad he does. With that, Maartje slides off the table, her bottle and vest tucked back in her bag. She sits down on the stool again, resuming her previous pose, but not without playfully winking at Mathias. Mathias thinks he’s back in high school all over again, breath hitching in his throat and slacks a little tighter than before.

The wait is dreadfully boring even with the amount of work Mathias has. He manages to finish all of his essays fifteen minutes before time and at that point the students have also started to become restless. They’re talking amongst each other again, no longer focused on their work or just looking at their phones. It’s making the teacher wonder how exactly Feliciano is even able to keep his class going for three periods straight. He supposes the German teacher who’s also the mentor of this class probably had some say in it and the Italian probably told him about his class. Mathias sighs, checking his watch before he shoves his paperwork in his bag. He clears his throat as he gets up from his seat, moving so he’s standing in front of the desk and can lean back against it after he’s gotten the class’ attention.

“Alright, we’ve only got fifteen minutes left before the break starts. I’m noticing most of you have finished your work or at least deemed it enough for now,” he starts, his hands finding their way in his pockets. “Three periods of art is quite a lot, so I’m going to-- Daniel, let me finish first.” He’s interrupted by one of the students who instantly wants to ask if they’re allowed to leave. A lazy grin plays on his lips and Mathias pushes himself off the desk. “I want you all to thank miss Van der Velden for taking her time to be here for you.” Without much thought he snaps his fingers at a student making a comment about the woman probably getting paid for this gig. While this isn’t usually how he’d correct a student, Mathias is quite tired of reading and he really wants that coffee he promised Maartje-- if she wants to join him. “After you’ve done that, you may clean up and leave for break.”

There’s a cheer from the class and they instantly go to cleaning up. They’re faster than he expects them to be and within five minutes the class is back in its previous state, students dashing out of the room after a quick goodbye and occasional thank you. Mathias shakes his head, turning his gaze to Maartje who’s gotten dressed again. “Not even a proper thank you, if it’s anything, I want to thank you for your time,” he chuckles, bag on his shoulder. “It’s fine. They’re teenagers, I wasn’t expecting it anyway. Plus, the kid was right. I do get paid for this.” There’s a smirk playing on Maartje’s lips as she ties her shoelaces. “So, about that coffee. I hope your coffee is as good as you say it is and that mouth of yours isn’t just there to look pretty.” Mathias perks up, cheeks heating up at the comment tossed at him. Pretty and a sharp tongue on her, something he likes more than he wants to admit to himself. “Oh, it’s definitely not just there to look pretty, if you know what I mean.” He winks at her and this time it’s her turn to have her cheeks flush a pretty pink at the innuendo. “Well then… I guess I’d like that coffee then.” She chews on her bottom lip for a second, eyeing the door before flicking her gaze back to meet azure eyes. “And I’d definitely like to find out whether that mouth isn’t just there to look pretty.” Mathias thinks this is perhaps the best day in his entire career. “It’s a date then.”

[spellcastersjudgement]

Jaden nd bastion for that domestic ask thing? >:3c

THE OTP YES i have so many feelings and everyone needs to hear me sob over the nerd baby and his superhero 

also that icon is the content i look for on this hellsite well done 

who is the big spoon/little spoon Jaden is the little spoon!! he prefers being the big spoon tbh he likes curling up against bastions fuckin ripped back but jaden always falls asleep first because he has to get this twelve hours or else he will be a grumpy boy but bastion?? bastion stays up all night drinking coffee and doing god knows what bc he’s the type of guy thats like ‘hey jaden im gonna go read a bit before i got to bed’ and then he fuckin stays up all night because he has no self control lmao so when it’s like 3am and he’s finally put down his book or finished dicking around on the computer he finally gets in bed and he doesnt want to wake up his husband (yes theyre married in my mind ok im love them) so he just lays down and pulls the human kuriboh to his chest and falls asleep 

what is their favorite non-sexual activity the standard answer is Card Games but besides dool masters they like to go on drives and look at stars and talk abt whatever. bastion is a chemical engineer and jaden’s his professional duelist trophy husband so they dont get to be together as much as they want bc jaden’s tournament schedule so when they’re together they gotta make it count u know so bastion will pick jaden up from the airport and they’ll just start driving out of the city talking about DM or what bastion’s been up to or whatever’s going through jaden’s mind (an enigma lmao) and then when there are no more streetlights to make it difficult to see the stars they’ll pull over and lay on the hood and cuddle and keep talking. it’s like 4am before they finally go home and since they’re going to sleep at the same time jaden finally gets his chance to be the big spoon 

who uses all the hot water in the morning getting jaden to shower is a fucking struggle he’s like a cat. living in the slifer dorm made him accustomed to being a generally gross person in general so he lives off dry shampoo and body spray so he doesn’t smell like hassleberry after a workout so that leaves bastion to take all of the water because he showers every morning after his run and insists on h is hair being perfect and well taken care of. like the guy has at least five different hair care products in the shower at all times while jaden, even though he’s dumb thick rich, buys that 3-in-1 crap he and syrus used to make stretch for a month back in college. jaden is also known to stick his kuriboh hair under the sink and shake it out like a dog because he is a gross boy that usually gets up about ten minutes before he has to leave so there’s no time for an actual shower and we’ve gotten away from the actual question but the tldr is bastion stands under the hot water he’s got one of those mirrors to shave in the shower while he’s doing his deep conditioning treatment and has a pore strip on his nose for beautiful ™ skin 

what they order from take out this one ties in a lot to my sageshipping BrOTP headcanons (on god there needs to be a brotp ask so i can scream to the world my love for bastion/alexis friendship) but the bit of background is that bastion and alexis would always order from this indian place that was open real late at night when they were in grad school together (no delivery at duel academy cause its an island u know) so it has a special place in his heart. jaden is a wimp when it comes to spice but since bastion loves it they order it anyway and the people that deliver the food know to make it wimpy baby spicy for jaden so he doesn’t end up sweating half his body weight up and crapping out lava four hours later 

what is the most trivial thing they fight over oh god they dont fight a lot because they love and appreciate each other’s eccentricities but if they’re going to fight its going to be over who’s doing the driving. they both love cars, bastion likes taking it apart and modifying them and whatnot and jaden likes the aesthetique (though his aesthetique is painting flames on a corolla jaden u lil shit smh) and they both like to go fast so when they go out they bitch abt who gets to drive. bastion tells jaden he doesnt appreciate the feel of the machine and jaden says bastion drives like a fucking old man so they end up settling the matter with rousing game of rock paper scissors 

who does most of the cleaning NEITHER OH MY GOD theyre both total slobs. bastion’s desk and home office is covered in his notebooks and duel monster cards, his walls covered with god knows what (formulas, dates, to-do lists, grocery lists) the guy just grabs the sharpie and starts writing because he’s afraid of forgetting something if he doesnt get it down right then. jaden lives in filth he has three day old bowls of cereal at his desk and uses used napkins as tissues he is certifiably NASTY. anyway they hire a housekeeper to make sure the entire house doesnt fall into disarray and she’s like their surrogate mother making sure they eat more than takeout and coffee and making sure the house smells nice. they call her Mama Cheryl (good middle aged mom name) and she’s the embarrassing mom at jadens local tournaments the kind that prints out huge pictures of his face and wears shirts with Neos on them and cheers for her boy v loudly. again we’re away from the question but i have a lot of headcanons abt this i’ll probs put in my dissertation lol 

what has a season pass in their DVR hmmm this is an interesting one…i like to think jaden loves crime shows because they’re heroes and he likes watching the good guys ™ win in the end. his favorite show is psych (which u all should watch its hilarious) but since that ended a while ago he’s been in to criminal minds and SVU because he likes watching the really diabolical criminals get caught. bastion never knew his mans was into such dark stuff until he opened the season pass thingy and got quite the heart attack because he thought jaden was all butterflies and flowers and funny stuff but bastion had to learn the duality of man the hard way. bastion doesn’t watch television that much but his guilty pleasure is vikings on the history channel and stuff on the discovery channel because he loves learning what a nerd 

who controls the netflix queue jaden is the one that likes to watch netflix the most but i wouldnt say he’s in control per se. they’re usually down for watching what each other likes but in the end jaden will sometimes end up superseding bastion because dammit bas we are not watching a documentary about the dead sea scrolls you dont even believe in god and bastions like fine youre cute we can watch Castle (even though thats not on netflix but i wish it were) 

who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working jaden. jaden all the way. bastion brings up a a wikihow article about how to fix the hvac system and he’s like I CAN FIX THIS and jadens like ily babe but you work with chemicals not with this kind of thing ur gonna break it like the time u tried to fix the sink and fuckin clogged the shit out of it we are calling Cheryl and Cheryl’s like jaden im a housekeeper call someone who actually does this for a living. anyway while theyre waiting for the professionals to get there bastion tries to demonstrate he knows what he’s doing he is smort by writing the steps and shit on the wall and jadens like youre so cute but no dont touch the heating system. he has to distract his lil nerd by asking him about what deck he should use for his next tournament or what the probability of drawing three polymerizations on the first turn is and bastion loves talking about math so jaden keeps asking questions until the system is fixed (he doesnt remember much of bastions mathematical explanations but bastion looks so cute with his eyes all bright and shiny talking about statistics) 

who leaves their stuff around BOTH they are slobs. jadens a bit worse if we’re being honest because while bastion leaves his papers and cards around schmaden schmuki leaves his underwear and food and cups in the living room and is prone to stripping off his clothes for one reason or another and just laying on the couch watching ESPN with his goddamn pants on the floor and saying they were constricting his knees or some shit when bastion asks why he feels the need to be half naked all the time. bastion had his own room in college so he doesnt quite understand why jadens comfortable just answering the door with a trail of clothing behind him because most people that dont know him assume he’s been getting bizzay but nah he just be Like That

who remembers to buy the milk jaden do because he drinks milk in his coffee. bastion drinks it black so if theres no milk its like eh whatever but jaden is a mess without his caffeine and he hates how bitter and gross it is when theres no milk in it so even if jaden’s not the one going to the grocery store he’ll write it on the wall so bastion will remember it because his mans dont check his texts that often but anything on that wall he fuckin remembers and jaden doesnt understand why he be Like That 

who remembers anniversaries both! they are dumb thick in love with each other and they like to plan little things to do for the anniversary of their first date, when they made it official, their wedding, etc. jaden is much more extravagant and will do something like jump on the bed until bastion wakes up and then drag him out for breakfast and get atticus to sing a really off-key renditions of classic love songs and bastion blushes so hard and its so cute it should be criminal lmao. bastion will get jaden a cute little gift like one of those pictures where the artist takes a photo and paints it so they can hang it on their wall. or bastion will fine tune his duel disk or get him a new card for his deck. they are in big gay love and i love them so much 

thanks for this ask on god i just wrote 1800 words of tutorship feels i have a problem lol 

[write-this-way-please]

Forgive or Forget

Forgive or Forget [Sometimes it’s just not possible to forgive and forget │Simon D & Christian Yu]

 You were almost embarrassed by the amount of time it took for you to get ready for this fashion event. AOMG were invited to many of the Seoul fashion week events, including the one for some designer you couldn’t even pronounce that you attending now. You posed alongside your long time boyfriend Kiseok as the photographers snapped away. Calling his name and Jay’s name every few moments to grab their attention.

 You used to hate being a plus one- This wasn’t who you were. Glam events and photographs were out of your comfort zone. But somewhere between the lovely fitted dress that Jay’s stylist picked out for you and the killer custom boots you were rocking you felt pretty proud of yourself. Besides after three years with Kiseok, these events were a walk in the park.

 Kiseok wrapped his arm snuggly around your waist, placing a kiss just below your ear as the shutters continued to go off. You smiled up at him laughed. “What are you doing?”

 “I just want everyone to know you’re mine” he chuckled, straightening your necklace before walking you inside the event.

 And just like that Kiseok managed to charm all of the reporters and photographers. They got their photos and he got his publicity. Honestly, it was a win-win for everyone.

 Inside the venue, you were happy to see a bunch of familiar faces. Besides the entire AOMG family, there were models from some of the AOMG shoots, brand sponsors, and other artist. It didn’t take you long to find the wine. And before you could even give Kiseok his, you’d lost him in the crowd. But he was always doing that. He’d been in the industry for so long, he was constantly being grabbed up by people. But that was the life you signed up for.

 And it was going to be a long night.

 Despite being used to events like this, you still felt someone out of place. You could just go and mingle, but you didn’t want to have to shadow Loco, or Jay just because you couldn’t find Kiseok. This may have been a fun little event, but it still work. And that networking aspect was a huge part of it.

 You’d made yourself comfortable at the bar. It was quiet enough that you could be alone with your thoughts and just people watch. And it’d be easier for Kiseok to find you if you just stayed put.

 After draining your glass, you were already on to the next one.

 “Easy there”  low voice chuckled from behind you. “Night just started, can’t be that rough”

 You smiled and shrugged at the stranger. “Not too rough, I just didn’t want the wine to get warm.”

 “That makes sense.” he flashed you a charming smile and took a seat beside you. “I’m Christian by the way.”

 You shook his hand, introducing yourself. “Nice to meet you Christian. How long have you been in Seoul?” You couldn’t help but comment on his lovely little accent. And more than gracious for the English conversation.

 “Couple years. I did the whole. I’m gonna come to Korea and be an idol and well… It just didn’t work out” he laughed. “What brings you to Korea?”

 “Hmm, family?” you seem to test the word on your tongue. “I lived in the states but my brother had this huge wave of pride and identity and wanted to move to Korea to live and serve. I tagged along because...I dunno.” you smiled to yourself. “I knew who I was in America and it always felt like something was missing. And maybe it was here…” You took a sip of your wine. “To be honest with you, I’m still searching for that thing. But I think I’m on the right path.”

 “That was pretty poetic.”

 “Oh, gawd. I don’t even know you and I’m just like- going on about my deep ethereal bond to Korea and a bunch of crap you don’t care about.”

 “No I love that.” he leaned on his hand gazing at you. “It feels so sincere. I get that too. Like you put it in words that I didn’t know I needed.”

 “So former idol what brings you to this event?”

 “I’m a visual director, and chief producer.” he smiled proudly.

 “Oh, you-you worked on Loco’s video a couple week ago.”

 “I did. One of my favorite projects.” he grabbed two glasses of champagne from the waiter, handing you one. “Let me guess, you’re a model.”

 “The flattery is appreciated but I’m no model.” you did an exaggerated hair flip. “I’m an oh so glamorous accountant.”

 “Well, Miss. Accountant, what brings a girl like you into a place like this?”

 “My boyfriend actually…” your voice trailed, a little bothered at the awkwardness that followed your statement. It was the first uncomfortable moment since meeting this charming stranger.

 “Figures. The gorgeous ones are always taken.” he winked. “So who’s the lucky fellow?” he gestured toward the floor.

 You pouted, scanning the crowd for your boyfriend for the umpteenth time “Jung Kiseok”

 His brows furrowed. “As in Simon D-Hyung?”

 You nodded and smiled. “Yup.”

 “I heard his girlfriend was stunning, but wow… your rumors underestimate you.”

 You snorted and shook your head. “Goodness you’re charming.” You raked your hand through your hair. “But I should get going… I need to find him.

 “I should probably do some mingling of my own.” he smiled watching you stand up, hesitating for a moment he grabbed your hand. “Would it be too forward to ask for your number?”

 “I…” you bit your lip, mulling it over for a moment. Would that be so bad? He did seem genuinely interesting. A little flirty, but you knew you wouldn’t let anything happen. Is it too much? “I...probably shouldn’t… I’m sorry. My boyfriend wouldn’t like that…”

 “No worries. It was a shot in the dark anyways. Hoping’ for the best ya know?” he smirked. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

 You waved your final goodbye to Christian before heading into the crowd. Your search was a combination of telephone tag between the AOMG crew and the illionaire guys. But you turned up empty and he wasn’t answering his phone.

 You ended up outside, in a desperate search for a better signal. “Hey, Kiseok...It’s me again. Where the hell are you?” you groaned, leaving him yet another message. Outside was pretty much dead, no one on the balcony saves for a few sprinkling of people smoking and a rather handsy couple in the corner.

 Your eyes narrowed, catching the very familiar face of the man in the corner with the beautiful, tall model. Kiseok wasn’t touching her, but she more than compensated for that. She laughed, pressing her hand against his chest. Laughing about something you swore wasn’t that funny. Your notable annoyance quickly growing by the moment. Crossing your arms over your chest, you rolled your eyes and scoffed seeing the model slip something into his front pocket, giving the front a playful pat. And that was the last straw. Strutting over to them you cleared your throat, letting your presence be very known.

 “Ma’am” your tone, so polite that it was almost chilling. Reaching into your boyfriend's pocket you pulled out her hotel key and shoved it into her hand. “Thank you for your unwelcomed  hospitality, but we have our own room”

 She scoffed before giving a tight-lipped smile and walking away.

 “Jagi there you are.” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “I was looking for you.”

 “Not all that hard- What the hell was that?”

 “Nothing Jagiya. She just wanted to know if she could be in a new AOMG video.”

 “She just wanted to know if she could get in your pants!”

 “It’s not like that.”

 “Then what was it like?” you groaned following him out, unaware of the audience you had on the balcony.

 To Be Continued

If you like this let me know because this is supposed to be a mini series~ Your reviews and kind words mean the world to me. <3

[moonlightjeno]

flashbacks

a/n: so this is my first imagine i hope you guys like it! 

genre: fluff!!

characters: taeyong x reader

summary: ur wedding day and flashbacks leading up to that moment

word count: 1855 (around)

Italics, are flashbacks.

 Y/N Pov: 

You looked up at your reflection, your perfectly put on make up, your hair tied up in a beautiful french braid. You could feel the beautiful and soft silk from the white wedding dress, you had on. You stepped towards the door, the red carpet peeking from under the huge brown double doors. Your dad, was watching you, admiration in his face, you looked back at the huge brown double doors that has started to open, you couldn’t be happier.

 Taeyong’s Pov:

Taeyong looked up, his palms were sweating from being so nervous and anxious. He had been so excited yet so eager for this day, and it had finally come. Everything he looked at reminded him of you, the blossoming flowers that bloomed with the sun lighting up the place. Reminding him of the first day you met.

 It had been a day just like any other, he had just come out of the studio and was walking back towards the dorms where him and the members lived. Though Taeil and Jaehyun had stayed a bit longer, to get coffee before going back to the dorm, he couldn’t remember. He would usually take the bus back to the dorms but today he had felt like walking, He had started to walk, aimlessly knowing that his feet would guide him to his home. He had been walking quite some while when he noticed that he had started to walk through Tapgol Park. It was beautiful this time of year, it was a spring and the flowers were blooming beautifully. He was watching the flowers until his eyes caught, you. You were sitting down in a bench, holding what looked like a sketchbook in your hands. Your hair falling in your eyes, you kept looking up at what seemed from his view a white flower with some animal on top of it. Taeyong had been looking at you for at least 10 minutes, as it seemed it had started to get cold, and you had gotten up to leave. His eyes following your trail, and back to the wooden bench you had been sitting in, he saw that you had left your sketchbook on the bench and hadn’t noticed. He quickly walked up to the bench, and grabbed the black - brown turned sketch book turning it in his hands. “(Y/N)’s Weird Imagination” it read at the top of the book, with different drawings of, what Taeyong recognized where composition notes, dance routines and sceneries form the park. He looked back up, you were almost out of sight, he ran towards you, catching his breath once he caught up. “Hey, you forgot this” he said, holding out the now fading black sketchbook with it’s creative different designs on the cover. “Um, thanks” you had said, and in that second you realized who you had been talking to. “Um, I’m (Y/N) nice to meet you, your nicer in person” you said in a joking manner, and it had made him blush, finding that it was impossible that this beautiful girl was talking to him. “Uh, yeah, nice too meet. Cool name-’ he face palmed himself, ‘well that was stupid’ he thought ‘-um, your drawings are amazing” he had said trying to make the conversation a bit less weird, than he had already made it. You had just started laughing, “Thanks Taeyong, wanna go grab coffee?” Taeyong couldn’t have believed what you had said, immediately answering “I would love that”

Taeyong looked back, at the big brown double doors with white loops around them, his mind going back to one of the very first memories he had with you, your unofficial first date. It had been casual nothing fancy.

Taeyong had been planning on having an extra practice hour to perfect the choreography for cherrybomb. Walking through the building he saw you again sitting down in the practice room, nodding your head to the beat of the music you were listening to through your headphones. he opened the door to the practice room walking over to you, your head still bobbing up and down from the music. he touched your shoulder making you jump back, you were about to hit him when you realized who it was you calmed down. “hey, i was about to practice in hear but i can come later if you want?” he asked. “it’s no problem really, i was about to take a break either way. i have to finish rehearsing for the comeback tomorrow.” you told him getting ready to leave. “oh um ok, i can help you out if you want?” he had no idea what he was saying but he just wanted to spend a little more time with you. You looked up at him blush showing on your cheeks, slowly nodding not believing that the best dancer and your crush had agreed to help you out. “um... yeah that would be amazing. thank you” you answered looking down shyly. “great, let’s get started”

after an hour of practicing you learned the choreography and had just started dancing to music have a fun time. A slow song had started playing and you were calming down getting ready to leave when he kissed you. you kissed him back, Taeyong couldn’t believe what was happening. he pulled back breathing slowly 

“(y/n) would you like to go out sometime?”  

“i would love to Taeyong”

 The sun, was shining bright that, Taeyong could see the water dancing off in the sunlight, making water crystals in the light. The sounds of nature filling in his ears, the church bells, ringing. The sound, took him back to not long ago, in which after 5 years, of being together he had finally proposed to you.

 It was a bright day in Seoul, unusual for it’s normal weather, Taeyong had thought it was a good sign for the big proposal he had to ask that day. He had been fearing the whole week not knowing whether you would say yes or would totally reject him, and he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. He had woken up early that day, to make you pancakes it was your anniversary tradition. You always tried different things, and today Dan had wanted to test out pancake art. He had looked it up on internet and it had seemed pretty easy, he had recognized kind of like a dance. Though being famous in the group for cooking his artistic skills hadn’t shown much, it looked more like a whale than anything. You would usually come around the time he was done cooking so he set the pancake on the table, cringing not knowing after 5 years, what to expect. “Nice whale, Tae! thanks” you said, looking a little sleepy but still beautiful. “Yes, because it was totally meant ot be a whale” he mumbled. “Well, what we gonna do today?” he asked changing the topic. “Well I was thinking we could go to the park, and we could hang out”

“Okay!” Dan yelled, ‘oh crap’, he had it all planned out, he had asked this past whole week for your friends and his members to maek small videos talking about you and why they loved you. 

Taeil and Mark had taken you to the park, talking about the comeback, and just life in general, until Taeyong spotted the bench in which he first saw you, and knew it was now, or it was going to fail. “Let’s go sit” Taeyong heard Taeil say, while he steered you towards the bench. Taeyong was crouching behind a tree ‘Genius’, when he sent you the video he had made, all the pictures and messages he had gotten had all been put into one video with the help of his members. “Hey (Y/N) can you check what time is it?” Mark asked,

“Um, sure” and with that the video began. Taeyong could see you almost cry, and he felt excited and sad at the same time not being able to be there with you. He heard his own voice last “I love you so much (Y/N) your the greatest thing that ever happened to me, so will you please look up” you looked up and saw Taeyong. Taeyong was standing right in front of you, on one leg, a ring out “Will you please marry me?” he asked, the butterflies exploded into fireworks. “YES!!” you got up and hugged him, “Really?” Taeyong asked not aware that this was actually happening, “Yes! You idiot!”

 (Y/N) Pov:

 “Ding, dong!” The huge bronze bells, indicating that you were now going to step on the red carpet. The huge brown double doors open with that the butterflies, expanded all over you body creating little explosions everywhere. You looked up and saw that beautiful face, with brown dark eyes and the now pink dyed hair you loved so much, and finally in for what seemed forever. Everything in space, felt in place.

***

welp that was that... i really hope you guys like this!!  <3

[kas-not-cas]

Flirting with Death (4)

Summary: After her close call with death, Y/N finds herself in the apartment of Dean Winchester. Y/N finds herself finding the man who had saved her more and more intriguing, despite not knowing him at all. 

Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak, Garth Fitzgerald, Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventually)

Warnings: Talk of dead bodies, medical examiner talk, language, angst 

Word Count: 3,144

Catch up here:

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five Part Six

A/N: This is part four to my serial killer!au! Thanks @impala-dreamer for beta reading this for me! I’m so excited for this series y’all it’s starting to get good! I hope y’all enjoy it. 

Pouring rain, lightning, and being absolutely terrified were the memories and emotions running through your head at the moment. Your eyes slowly opened, your vision blurring as lights shined around you. Blinking a few more times, everything slowly became clearer as you stared at the white ceiling about you. Your head was pounding as you tilted your head to the side, coming face to face with a picture of strangers. A sudden rush of panic coursed through your veins as you came to the realization that this was not your apartment.

You sat up, your hair flailing around you in a tangled mess. You looked around the strange room; there was a dresser, nightstand, and posters of some classic cars on the walls. Glancing down at yourself, you saw your were wearing another person's clothes. From the size and design of it, you were at a man’s house. You held your face in your hands as you tried to piece everything together, but everything was so blurry.

The door to the room jiggled as someone from the outside opened it. You watched in shock as light flooded the room as the stranger entered. To your surprise, he was not a complete stranger to you at all. Dean Winchester walked in, a wet rag in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and blue jeans, he had his phone pressed to his ear. He was so focused on the call he didn’t seem to notice you sitting up, completely unaware that you were awake.

“Look man, I’m sorry okay!?” He huffed, staring at the ground as the other person talked. “What was I supposed to do?” Dean rolled his eyes before looking up meeting your gaze, his eyes widened and he quickly placed the items in his hands on the dresser. “Hey Cas, she’s up man; just hurry up and get your ass over here okay? Yeah okay, later.” He hung the phone up before rushing towards you. “Hey, Y/N are you okay? How do you feel sweetheart?”

“Like I’ve been through the meat grinder.” You grunted running both your hands over your face, wincing slightly at the throbbing pain in some areas. “What the hell happened?” He grabbed the water bottle handing it to you. “Everything's so blurry, I just, I can’t put it together.”

Dean bit down on his bottom lip, “You were being attacked,” he started off softly, “I was across the street at a bar when I heard screaming. I followed it, and I have to say you’re pretty damn lucky I showed up when I did.” You held the plastic bottle in your hands, staring at Dean’s jean’s as the memories slowly came back to you. “If I wasn’t walking by when I did, who knows what could have happened.”

“I-I uh,” the attack came back to you, the pain and fear of the situation. The way the freezing rain felt against your bare skin, and how the thin blade of the pocket knife shone in the flashes of lightning. “I would have been raped,” you throat was suddenly dry, “and then I would have probably been killed.” Your eyes stung as tears slowly began welling up in your eyes, Dean’s hand hesitantly gripped your own. “You saved me Dean, Jesus, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Hey, it’s okay; I was doing the right thing.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “Drink some water and try to relax. My friend works with the police, he’s going to come and take a statement from you.” You nodded in agreement and he smiled, watching as you drank half of the bottle of water.

You and Dean sat there in silence waiting for his friend to show up. He wasn’t going to push you to talk about what had happened, or what you were doing prior to it. All he did was sit there and squeeze your hand, and occasionally reassure you everything was going to be just fine. You barely knew the man sitting next to you, but you didn’t need to know everything about him to tell he was a good man. In what seemed to be the never ending silence, the doorbell rang. Dean jumped up from the bed, rushing out of the room to answer it. You finished off the rest of your water while listening to the small talk between the two men.

“Why didn’t you just take her to the hospital?” a gravelly deep voice that you knew asked, “Dean that has to be one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done.”

“She’s a friggin doctor, she told me she was going into shock. Sammy went into shock once on a hunting trip when we were kids. I knew what to do back then, so I was just doing what needed to be done man.”

You watched as Dean walked into the bedroom, with Detective Novak right behind him. The second he looked at you, his eyes widened looking you up and down. “Doctor Y/L/N?” He stood in the doorway tilting his head to the side.

“Detective Novak?”

Dean watched as the two of you stared at one another, he furrowed his brow running his hand over his face. “Crap, I totally forgot,” He turned his full attention to his friend, a look of confusion painted across Detective Novak’s face. “You know Y/N, I should have mentioned that.”

“She’s the new medical examiner for the hospital, she’s was working with Dr. Simonson today. I just met her earlier today.” He turned his attention to you, walking further inside of the room. “Doctor, I assume you stayed later that you had anticipated working on the body they just brought in?”

“Yeah, we were so caught up in writing our reports we didn’t realize how late it was. And on my way home I was attacked, lucky for me though, Dean was there to save me.”

“Alright, I’m going to ask you both some questions, then I’ll take this information down to the station and file a report.”

Castiel started off with asking you about what had happened. You answered all his questions as best as you could, giving him more than enough details of the event. He simply nodded, writing the information down in his notepad, not leaving out any of the details you were providing. Once he finished questioning you he move on to talk to Dean, getting his side of the incident. The whole process took about forty-five minutes before Castiel decided he had all the information he needed.

He stood in the middle of the room, overlooking his notepad one last time before he left. He shut it once he deemed everything was in line, shoving it back in one of the pockets of his trenchcoat. “That’s everything I needed for now, I’ll contact you both if I need anything else from you. Y/N, I’ll stop by the office tomorrow with a sketch artist that way we can have it on file.”

“Thank you Castiel, I appreciate you coming.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled looking at Dean, “I can take her home if you’d like that way you could get some rest.”

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes as he pushed himself off the wall. “Please, you take her home in that piece of junk.” Castiel glared at Dean, as he pulled his keys out of his jacket. “Easy man, I’m just kidding!” Dean held his hands up in defense, “I’ll take her home, don’t worry about it.”

“Alright,” he looked back at you, “Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow, get some rest tonight.” You bid Castiel a goodnight, watching Dean lead him out of the room. Now that all of that was taken care of you really needed to get back home. It was getting close to four in the morning and you were pretty sure Dean wanted to get some sleep much like you did.

You got off the bed and headed out of the room, turning off the light on your way. Walking down the tan colored halls you glanced at the pictures lining them. A lot of them seemed to be Dean and Sam, a few were of some older looking men. Then there was the same woman from the picture on his nightstand. She was beautiful, long blonde hair, a pretty face and smile; she looked like she was a fun and loving person.

“That’s my mom,” Dean’s voice came from behind you causing you to jump, “sorry to startle you.” He chuckled, leaning against the corner of one of the walls. “You were pretty entranced by that picture, I just couldn’t resist.”

“I’m sorry,” you smiled looking back at the picture, “she’s so pretty, it’s captivating.”

“Yeah, she really was.” His words trailed off as his voice lowered at the word ‘was’. Cringing, you mentally yelled at yourself for bringing up a painful memory for him. You barely met the man, and there was no reason for you to start bringing up his personal life or anything of that. It was bad enough he saved your ass tonight, way to impress a really attractive guy. Nothing says we should go out sometime like nearly getting raped and having to be rescued.

You slowly spun around to face him, expecting to find him looking at anything but you. That was a different story however; he was smiling at you. It was a friendly yet melancholic smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. Dean had a good heart, you could tell from the kind of person he was. You hoped you would get to be able to see it and get to know him better through your time in Seattle.

He handed you a jacket, pulling out some keys from his pocket. “What do you say I get you home? I think you need some sleep if you’re planning on going into work tomorrow.”

“I can’t miss it,” you slipped the over sized jacket on, “it might look bad for me not to come in on my second shift.” He slipped his own jacket on, motioning for you to follow him out of the apartment. “And as much as I’d like to stay home, I have to good of a work ethic.”

“So what, you’re telling me you’ve never called out to play hookey?” He grinned, leading you down the hall towards the elevator. “Never wanted to just have a leisure day at home?”

“I have, but I only call out when I can’t get out of bed.”

He laughed, shaking his head as you both got inside the elevator. “If you stick with me sweetheart, I can show you the good life.” He winked, hitting the garage button as the doors closed.

“I bet you could,” you laughed, rolling your eyes, “or you just want to corrupt me.”

“I guess you’ll never know huh?” His voice was deep and seductive as you looked at each other. God, the man was attractive, he was almost to attractive. For some reason you found yourself drawn to him, there was something different about him and you wanted to get to know more. The elevator dinged as you both reached the correct floor. “Like I said, stick with me and I can show you the good life.” He lead you out of the elevator, twirling his keys around his index finger.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll tak-” you stopped in your tracks staring at the black beauty in front of you. “Wow, what a pretty car.” It was beautiful, shiny, and well taken care of. Hell, it looked better than a lot of the newer cars in the garage.

Dean ran his fingers over the polished finish smiling wide. “Did you hear that Baby? She thinks you’re pretty.” Of course this would end up being his car, a pretty man and a pretty car; it almost seemed like a necessity.  You walked around the car, whistling at it before standing back to get a better look.

“Oh, so this is Baby.” He leaned against it, watching you as you spoke. “You take really good care of it, I can tell.”

“Thanks, it was my Dad’s car he passed it on to me when I learned how to drive.” You stared at the Impala, admiring it while Dean watched you. “I knew I like you for a reason. Who would have known you were a car girl?” He opened the passenger side of the door for you, “I guess I shouldn’t have just pinned you as a Yale college kid.”

“What can I say,” you smied, slipping inside, “you should never judge a book by it’s cover.”

The drive back to your apartment was a nice one, a good conversation on local bars and what’s fun to do. It felt natural with him, like nothing needed to be thought out or planned. The two of you just lost yourselves in conversations. It wasn’t until he stopped in front of your apartments that the conversation ended abruptly. It felt like neither of you were ready to stop just yet, but you both had jobs in the morning.

“Thank you,” you started, looking at him, “for everything Dean. I owe you big time, I can’t even begin to describe how much I owe you.”

“You know what you owe me?”

“What?”

He pulled his phone out, tapping on the screen a few times before handing it to you. Looking at the illuminated screen you smiled wide, seeing the blank contact listing. “How about you give me your number and we grab a couple of beers this weekend? I can show you around, and if you don’t want it to be just us we can invite Sam, Jess, and Charlie to come with us.”

“That sounds awesome.” You filled out the information on the screen, handing his phone back to him. “I think we’ll have a lot of fun, plus I want to get to know you all better.” Dean looked at his phone, happy to see your name there in his contacts. “Thank you Dean, I’ll talk to you later.” You opened the door getting out, smiling at him before starting to close it.

“Hey,” he yelled, ceasing your movements, “I’ll text you the details later, and if you ever need a ride, no matter how late it is, give me a call.” He showed off his white teeth, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “I’m a night owl, besides you live pretty close to me.”

Giving him a big smile, you nodded your head, “Alright, I appreciate that Dean, have a good night.” You shut the door, waving goodbye to him as the Impala drove off down the street. There was something about that man, and you couldn’t put your finger on it just yet.

________________

“Well if it isn’t the warrior princess herself.” Looking up from your computer, you came face to face with Garth. He placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head as he looked at you. “I heard you were attacked from some nurses. Are you okay?”

You pulled your glasses off your face, your eyes locking on one of the mirrors in the office. Places of your face were bruised, but they were less prominent thanks to the miracle of makeup. It had been three days since the attack, and they were taking their sweet time healing, but it was getting there. Placing the glasses on the table, you leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head.

“I’m doing good. I feel a lot better, a friend has been dropping me off at the apartment on late nights.” Garth’s eyebrows rose to this statement but you quickly changed the subject. “But none of that matters, all that matters is what you brought in for me today.” Heading towards Garth, he had a pale, almost worrisome look on his face.  “Is the body that bad?”

“I’ve been doing this job for a long time Y/N. I’ve seen some nasty things, but this guy, he’s going to stick with me for the rest of my life.”

Putting on your medical gear, you and Garth moved the body to the examination table. He took a deep breath, looking at the zipped up bag before turning away. Some of the bodies you had seen this week were terrible, so for Garth to be acting like this you could only assume it was a horror story within the bag.

“Garth you don’t need to be in here with me.” You motioned your head towards the door, smiling at your co-worker. “Get out of here. I think I’ll be able to handle this myself.” He didn’t need to be told twice. He took off, heading out of the morgue, leaving you alone. “Alright, let’s take a look at you shall we?”

Unzipping the bag, you came face to face with the victim’s naked and bloody torso. Eyes wide and stomach turning, you determined immediately the cause of death was blood loss. The man’s genitals had been cut off with an extremely sharp blade. You unzipped the bag further down the body, finding a mark you were all too familiar with.

Vigilante’s signature pentagram like symbol was carved into the victim's abdomen. It was deeper than the other two victims you had seen this week. It was so deep you wouldn’t be surprised if it punctured the stomach. Seeing this was the work of Seattle’s uncatchable serial killer, it was only a matter of time before detective asshole and Castiel came in. You needed to speed up your examination so when they did show up you could give them some answers. Swallowing hard, you unzipped the bag the rest of the way, completely exposing the body to you.

Seeing the victim's face, all sympathy went on the window for who this man was. Usually you’d be more considerate, thinking about why they deserved to be killed in such a violent matter. But with this fucker, you couldn’t have done it better yourself. Grabbing the edge of the metal table, you whimpered, staring at the glossy and dead eyes of the man. They were the same eyes that looked down at you while holding a knife above your head just three days ago.

The man who had attempted to rape you was currently dead and on your table. Oh, karma worked in such strange and beautiful ways. A laughed escaped you lips as your bore into the man’s eyes, your heart racing as a smile curled against your lips. You had told yourself when you first started you’d stay neutral. You would do your job without any thoughts about who was the real monster, Vigilante or his victims.

But right now in this very moment, you were all for team Vigilante.

Forever Tags: @percywinchester27 @the-cucumber-who-lived, @waywardjoy, @sammylynne321@jalove-wecallhimdean, @britney8793, @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms,@castiellerblueeyed,@nathaliabakes,@kristaparadowski,@relationshipyard,@curlycas,@slapinthefacetoyourlullaby,@jessiedangerous @selina-kyle89@jordangardner19@clarita25booklover-blog @impala-dreamer @queenofthe-bitches,@omgreganlove, @jojotink78, applesugar88, @isis278,@thisisthelilith,@10200512,@growningupgeek@fuckyeahfeysand@megafrontliner311@fangirl1802 @typicalweirdbookworm@nerdwholikesword @sociallyimparedme  @riversong-sam@theroute63 @tmccarney @fantasticimpaladoctor @its-my-perky-nipples, @smoothdogsgirl, @brooke-supernatural16@little-castiel13, @wonderlandmoonrose7, @deansbaekaz2y5 @starswirlblitz @secretlyfurrydragon @kms1000 @brooke-supernatural16, @queencharley @fabulouslyboredeveryday @therosecolouredpost  @createdbybadappreciation @notesfromalabprincess @just-meh-and-me-dogs @colorfuluniversewhispers @dancingalone21 @pizzarollpatrol @maddieburcham1 @benjerry707 @misguidedconqueress @deanfuckingwinchesterrr @faegal04 @greek-geek481 @gallifreyansass @livelovelike555 @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @we-are-band-sexuals @fandomsandstuffff @petrovadixon @kaylynnw428 @spngirl00

Dean/Jensen Girls: @torn-and-frayed @mrstheorossix3 @ioanashalala @summer-binging-spn @atc74 @betterlattethennever @anokhi07

Flirting with Death Tag List:  @blackcatstiel, @lucifer-in-leather, @docharleythegeekqueen, @mysaintsasinner, supernaturalyobessed, @isis278, @ariannnawinchester@ @avasmommy224 @janaenaenae @deanfuckingwinchesterrr @jaleeni @leather-moccasin-hero @gallifreyansass @mattiepieluv @acreativelydifferentlove

Tagging: @supernatural-jackles​ @deanscherrypie​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @d-s-winchester​