#your option with him is either the clown car or this

[cranberrylovely]

Mr Beast x Y/n x SapNap (love triangle)

- You’re Chandler’s sister and his legacy of accidentally becoming a part of the Mr Beast crew is bestowed unto you.

———————

I watched silently in the back seat as the rain hit the car window. Usually I would be in the front next to my brother, Chandler, but we were on the way to shoot a video with some of his friends. Nick was in my spot and I listened to the two of them talk.

“Probably like, ‘Last One to Let Go of the Lambo Gets the Lambo’ or something like that,” Nick said. They were trying to figure out what Jimmy’s new video was going to be.

“He did that already,” I muttered quietly. It was mostly to myself, but Nick turned around to face me.

“What? You keep tabs on him or something?” he asked teasingly as a grin spread across his lip. “Part of the notification gang?”

“Aren’t you in the dream SMP?” I shot back. His smile faded and I tried to hide mine. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fuckin’ loser.” He turned back around.

Nick and I had known each other for a while. Ever since I turned 21, I’ve been getting more and more involved with helping out in Mr Beast videos. I haven’t been offered any sort of role yet. I usually just hang around until somebody needs something. Like an unpaid PA.

But since Chandler’s some hotshot now and hangs out with a bunch of YouTubers, I’ve met my fair share. Nick, or “SapNap”, is one of them. He’s probably the only one I’ve stayed in touch with, being the same age and all.

“If you’re really wondering what his plan might be, look at the facts,” I started. “Nick, you’re only featured in his videos when they’re special of start with the word ‘extreme’. So it’s probably something like that. Not ‘Last One touching the Lambo’.”

“Whatever, smartass,” Chandler said as we turned into the warehouse parking lot. I kicked the back of his seat.

“Isn’t he supposed to tell you guys in advance? You know, like… ask for your consent?” I asked. We pulled into a spot.

“Are you kidding?” Nick said, nearly laughing.

“Jimmy doesn’t give two shits about consent.” Chandler took the keys out of the ignition and turned back to face me. “Do you know how much he pays us just to be here?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. If I guessed too low, I’d be pissed off that I didn’t get one buck for all the shit I’ve had to do. Coffee runs, lunch runs, dinner runs, you name it. If I guessed too high I’d look stupid. It was a lose/lose situation.

So I didn’t say anything and they just rolled their eyes at me.

I counted only 5 or so cars in the warehouse parking lot. Either this was an exclusive invite or 100 participants were packed into a clown car. Considering the secrecy of the whole ordeal, I assumed it was the first option. And I’d never been involved in one of their smaller videos before.

After getting out of the car, I hurried up to Nick’s side. “Sooo…” I started. “Are you sure I’m allowed to be here?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, glancing at me.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve always tagged along with Chandler, but I never get invited.”

“What are they gonna do? Kick you out?” He chuckled. “Jimmy’s mean, but he’s not that mean. Besides, if he says anything I’ll punch him.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Yeah, right.”

“Don’t do that,” Chandler said from in front of us. “This is my job and I’ll be fired if you assault him.”

We walked into the lobby and met Chris in the front. He was wearing a stupid ass purple security uniform.

“What are you wearing?” Chandler asked.

Chris spun around. “What do you mean? I look great!”

“You look like the purple guy,” Nick commented.

Chris raised an eyebrow. “That’s the point?”

Nick and I exchanged glances.

“Did you guys not get the memo?” he continued. The three of us just stood in silence.

After an awkward 20 seconds I spoke. “Is it, like, FNAF themed?”

“Hell yeah!” Nolan said, joining us in the lobby. Tareq was beside him, multiple camera bags slung over his shoulder.

“Who else is here?” Chandler asked.

“It’s just us plus Nick,” Chris said. “Well, and another camera guy. Him and Jimmy are in the warehouse setting up the cameras.”

“I should go help out,” Tareq said, spinning on his heel and heading towards the entrance of the warehouse. “Y/n, you wanna come with? My shoulder’s starting to hurt and we could use a hand.”

“Sure,” I said, following him. Really, I wanted to ask where the fuck my paycheck was. You know, since everybody else was getting paid so much they didn’t even need to ask what the video was. But here I was, not a dollar richer. Mr Beast… what a philanthropist.

As soon as we stepped into the warehouse I could tell the video was gonna be sick. The set was huge and designed to look like a live action Five Nights at Freddy’s game. I couldn’t peel my eyes away from all of the detail as Tareq led me through the maze of fake hallways. I couldn’t wait to see what it looked like with the overhead lights off.

We found Jimmy and the other cameraman in the security office setting up hidden cameras.

“Yeah, right there,” Jimmy said, his arms crossed over his chest. He noticed us come in.

“Jimmy, this looks awesome!” I said, genuinely excited. Before then I had barely spoken to him other than to take orders for food.

He looked at me with a dead pan face, almost disappointed to see me. “Yeah, thanks,” he said shortly and took a camera on a tripod from Tareq. “This is charged, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Tareq answered.

“Are you sure? Because last time you said that, the camera died half way in and we had to fill an hours worth of footage.”

“Man, that was one time,” Tareq objected, waving his hand defensively.

Jimmy laughed. “Relax,” he said soothingly and patted him on the arm. Then he looked at me and his smile faded. “You gonna do something useful, or what?”

“Well what do you want me to do?” I asked, a little flustered.

Jimmy took a bag from Tareq and practically threw it at me. I barely caught it and swung it over my shoulder. “Just get good clips.” He came over to me and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. I immediately tensed up. “This is your one and only chance, y/n,” he said in a deep, quiet voice. “So don’t fuck it up or you wont step another foot in this building again. Understood?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, blinking while I looked up at him. He towered over me. “Understood.”

He patted me on the shoulder, and left. I could only stare at the back of his head as he walked away, the other camera man following behind him.

After a moment I remembered Tareq was still in the room with me. I looked over at him and he snickered.

“What’s up with your face?” he asked.

I reached up to feel for anything that might have been on it and there was nothing. “What do you mean?”

“It’s so red,” he pointed out.

“Oh, that’s probably since I haven’t eaten today.” Which was a complete bullshit lie. MrBeast just threatened to fire me from a job I didn’t even have, of course I was going to be upset.

-

Before the whole “Last One to Survive Five Nights at Freddy’s Gets $100,000” ordeal, I found Nick in the Party Room portion of the fake pizzeria. I sat across from him and he looked up from his phone with a small smile toward me.

“Hey,” he said. I forced a smile back and set the uncased camera on the table.

“Where’s everyone else?” I asked. He looked around and shrugged.

“Jimmy said we could wander for a bit and get familiar with the set. Oh, and, they also said that the video was supposed to be a secret so don’t post or…”

“Yeah, I get it,” I said. Slowly, Nick’s gaze became worrisome.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I didn’t expect the question so it took me a second to respond.

“Why?”

“Well you seem out of it,” he said. “And… Tareq mentioned something that happened?”

I rolled my eyes. “It was nothing, just something stupid.”

“Y/n, you do know that you are more than welcome here, right?” He reached out and lightly touched the top of my hand.

I could feel my face heating up again.

There was a slightly awkward lull before Jimmy came in and everyone else practically paraded behind him. I immediately picked up my camera and stood up.

Karl was amongst the group, meaning that Chris lied. Then came Nolan, and Chandler, Chris, and Tareq. Jimmy turned to face us all.

“Okay, Tareq and y/n on the moving cameras,” he started, his eyes scanning the list on his phone. “We filmed the intro already, first up is Nick.”

The hustle picked up almost immediately. They put Nick in the security room, and everyone else got into costume. My job was simple enough. I had a certain amount of rooms I was in charge of and I had to stay out of the way of whoever was playing while simultaneously filming them.

The first 5 minutes were going good, since I was able to get some easy shots. But after another 5 of seeing absolutely nobody I started to worry. I was right beside the stage where the ‘animatronics’ were supposed to be in the beginning of the game, but by then all three of them had dispersed. I’d been alone for what felt like forever. Panic began to set in when I considered that I might be missing some important shots. I mean, we could always reenact something if we had to, they did it all the time on the channel. The only thing I truly had to face was Jimmy, and that made me feel uneasy.

I wandered a little bit out of bounds to see if I could find anyone. It was incredibly dark and I was squinting to see my feet. As I turned the corner I felt a warm body crash into mine and I screamed. A hand shot over my mouth. It was Jimmy.

“What the hell are you doing?” It was too dark to see his expression and he spoke quietly, but I could easily assess that he was upset.

I wanted to explain, but his hand lingered on my mouth, pressing me up against the wall. My heart was pounding from the jumpscare and continued the longer he held onto me. Voices grew closer and he put a finger to his lips.

“Guys, I could’ve sworn I just heard a scream,” Nick said to the camera in his dumb YouTube Entertainer voice.

“I think it was y/n.” That was Chandler. “Y/n!?” He called.

Jimmy backed up. “Laugh it off,” he ordered, leading me toward the voices. As if he were an activated toy he began to laugh when we ran into Nick and Chandler. “Y/n, tell them what just happened.” That’s when I saw Tareq with the camera, still filming.

“I literally didn’t hear anything for like 10 minutes,” I played along. “So I was looking for you guys and right when I turned the corner Jimmy jumped out at me. It was horrifying!”

“I thought she was SapNap,” Jimmy added and pointed to Nick. I’d never felt more threatened to laugh along with someone. It was like there was a gun to my head.

My heart was still pounding.

[tumblingalonggg]

"but maybe I'm full of sh*t"

11/16/2023

CLOWN

Hope you're doing good too

ME

All is well

Aside from me working out

I think it’s time to give up on that dream

CLOWN

Dumb

You give up too easy

Anything that's worth it takes hard work, patience, and a shit load of determination

Or don't and continue to live in a moderate state of depression where you tell yourself things are okay on the top and suffer underneath, I swear Angela

Sometimes you say stupid shit too

ME

Opened (was referencing the program)

Thanks for anyway for the lecture

CLOWN

Opened

ME

Opened

CLOWN

Opened

WhatsApp ma'am

Now you'll need a new excuse

See how you feel in 4 weeks. Maybe do some research on a diet if the one you're doing isnt working. And stop pretending you don't like the gym

Tough love over. Word upheld, find a new way to include me in your disappointment of the male gender now

CLOWN

Opened

Keep your eyes peeled for a better program coming from Luke. Now you have options. Sorry for keeping you from making progress for so long, my bad

If there's any other way I can be of "use" to you please let me know, I wasn't aware that was the reason you were still talking to me, I thought we were friends. Thanks for spelling it out for me loud and clear this morning.

And one last thought for you, you said "I believe in actions blah blah blah" I am doing EXACTLY what I said I would, you're the one who couldn't wait and left. So you can watch me continue to do all the things I said I would and try and figure out another way to add.me to your shitty men list Customer Review Management Software | AddMe Reviewsaddme.com

Once Luke sends you this next program it's on you to stay on top of him, you either want it or you don't, I'll keep paying but being your gym babysitter went out the window this morning

He's your trainer ask him or ask one of your boyfriends. I help my friends with stuff, not people who can "use" me for something

ME

CLOWN

Tough love over. Word upheld, find a new way to include me in your disappointment of the male gender now Kinda rude

CLOWN

Keep your eyes peeled for a better program coming from Luke. Now you have options. Sorry for keeping you from making progress for so long, my bad Sarcasm also kinda rude

CLOWN

If there's any other way I can be of "use" to you please let me know, I wasn't aware that was the reason you were still talking to me, I thought we were friends. Thanks for spelling it out for me loud and clear this morning.Lmao. I thought you were kidding.

CLOWN

And one last thought for you, you said "I believe in actions blah blah blah" I am doing EXACTLY what I said I would, you're the one who couldn't wait and left. So you can watch me continue to do all the things I said I would and try and figure out another way to add.me to your shitty men list. You told me I was “adding so much stress to your life”. After getting loud with me and not respecting my request to get out of my car after I did my best to take be supportive in all the ways I could.

CLOWN

Once Luke sends you this next program it's on you to stay on top of him, you either want it or you don't, I'll keep paying but being your gym babysitter went out the window this morning No thank you

CLOWN

He's your trainer ask him or ask one of your boyfriends. I help my friends with stuff, not people who can "use" me for something. The fact that you think I can possibly use you for anything is ridiculous. Again I know you’ll be great, my mind hasn’t changed but the way you’re speaking to me is disrespectful.

CLOWN

Well then the feeling is mutual cause the way you were speaking to me also seemed pretty disrespectful. I'm not interested in being right, you win. You always win Angela. I never had any control in this from the jump.

I was just trying to help, you don't want it fine.

ME

You told me I was “adding so much stress to your life”. After getting loud with me and not respecting my request to get out of my car after I did my best to take be supportive in all the ways I could. Obviously a reason to cut and run, god forbid we worked it out. Sorry you couldn't handle my bottom while I was trying to uncover the right road for us. At the end of the day you also didn't hold up your end in WV, you didn't like it there and took the easiest way out, I don't blame you, but you definitely weren't "supportive in all ways" you cut and run when it wasn't what you dreamt up. I battled through it and am living a life we would've loved here. It is what it is. Sorry for the confusion, that "the one thing I could use you for," line really got me though

If you continue to bounce every time something doesn't work out the right way for you then you'll be alone and sad forever, I am an expert in that field. Take what you want from this conversation, but I think you got so upset cause there is a lot of truth in the things I said.

But maybe I'm just full of shit, either way, your seat remains in the front row, I understand now that it will always be empty though.

This is quite laughable as if I wasn't the reason you & your dogs had food and transportation. I unfortunately ran out of funds to support your broke lifestyle and wasn't interested once I felt my safety was compromised. I remain neutral and communicate the errors in the messages you send me but you take no responsibility, nor apologize. Instead want to tell me why I'm wrong, and I was for choosing you. Against my better judgment I saw potential. Best of luck, I'm sure you'll make it to the top, or relapse and hit bottom. Either way you deserve it.  

[kurohaai]

Their entire matespritship in two images

They live in shoujo while their surrounding live in comedy while constantly taking psychic damage 💜❤️

Purple Das & Blue Ofi - mine Rust Pavnis - @theartisticapparition 's Teal Yleeda - @heuristicallyinclined 's

[quirkwizard]

Good Day/Evening, QW. I have this request for you: If All For One had the Shie Hassaikai under his thumb, what secondary Quirks would he give each member to make them more deadly. This is in the same vein as your post about what Secondary Quirks AFO would give members of the LOV.

While I'm not sure this would work out from a character perspective given how much Overhaul hates villains, it is interesting from a combination perspective.

Shin Nemoto- Rivet Stab: There really isn't any deeper reasoning for this idea. It's just something to give Shin more offensive viability since his Quirk can't be used that well in a fight.

Soramitsu Tabe- Tongue Web: While I wanted to do this one for the pure creepiness factor, it does work to help out Tab. It can work to improve the range of "Food", letting him pull stuff into his giant mouth.

Rikiya Katsukame- Hypertrophy: This mostly works to extend Rikiya's range, letting him grab people more easily for "Vitality Stealing", but it could augment the power of his larger form by making him even bigger.

Chronostasis- Air Walk: Since Chronostasis needs to stand still to fire his arrows, being able to move and stand in the air could give him a lot more options to fire his arrows while mitigating the risk of being an easy target.

Toya Setsuno- Shoulder-Mounted Jets: Not much to say about this one. It could help Toya get away if people get too close to him, and it would give him more angles and opportunities to use "Larceny" on people by flying around or passing them.

Mimic- Storage: Considering that Mimic can move around without being noticed, he could just carry around the various Yakuza in his own body, making it extremely useful for either escape attempts or surprise attacks, essentially becoming a Yakuza clown car.

Yu Hojo- Springlike-Limbs: Not only could this help Yu's poor mobility by giving him springy legs, but it would massively improve his offensive power, augmenting the damage his crystals can do. People are going to be impaled on his crystals by the time a fight is over.

Deidoro Sakaki- Muscle Augmentation: The whole point of this upgrade is to help Deidoro's staying power. If he's muscled up, he can stay in the fight longer and keep up with people to keep them in the range of "Sloshed". The only issue is trying to stop a giant drunk dude when he gets hammered.

Hekiji Tengai- Air Cannon: Again, like Shin, this is to make up for his poor offense. The only reason I went with "Air Cannon" is because it could be used more easily, allowing him to drop his barriers, attack, and then put them back up without worry. Maybe he could combine it with "Barrier" to blast people who get too close.

Kendo Rappa- Impact Recoil: This is such a good combination with Rappa's brawler style. With his arm speed, Rappa could easily absorb an impact before it hits him, and then immediately counter with his own strength and the added strength of whomever is attacking him. The only issue is that he might refuse to use it out of a sense of fairness. In which case, I'd give him "Shock Absorption" instead.

Overhaul- Super Regeneration: While he has a lot of coverage, Overhaul is sorely lacking in personal defense. So with this, he can deal with damage without using "Overhaul" and not have to worry about losing his arms. And if he blows bits off of himself, he could grow them back, giving him even more biomass to work off of. Maybe he could even act as a weird healer, spreading bits of his flesh around to fix others.

[slashersthings]

A Halloween Awakening - Michael Myers/Reader - Part 1

Halloween.

For many people in the world, that one little word struck happiness and excitement through their lives, with thoughts of candy, Halloween parties, and the one occasion where you could be literally anything you wanted to be for one night without worrying about your real identity.

But for some other people, mainly those of the residents of Haddonfield, Halloween usually struck a different chord in that small town. Fear.

And for one reason alone - Michael Myers.

—

It was a crisp, chilly fall day like any other. Colorful leaves fell off trees and drifted away onto streets and sidewalks, crunching underneath your heeled boots as you walked to your parked car in the driveway.

Halloween was just two days away and because of the holiday’s fast approaching date, last minute candy and costume needs were high demand where you worked.

It was a little shop just ten minutes from your house, that usually specializes in selling anything you could think of to grab at a regular grocery store but with cheaper prices. But, the main reason the shop did so well was it’s impressive stock of Halloween decorations, costumes, masks, and an even decent supply of candy.

They did it every year, making sure to keep up with new trends and new scary masks. It wasn’t the best job around, sure, but you needed the cash to pay rent so it was the only option for now.

You sigh and hurry inside your car, flicking the radio to a good station before pulling out of the driveway.

—

Work was slow. Half the day you spent by either stocking shelves or helping a few customers find costumes or candy while listening to them drone on and on about how they forgot to stock up sooner and that it was better late than never.

You just smiled and nodded along, pretending to be interested in the conversation all the while hoping a coworker would come along and help you get out of it.

That rarely happened though, seeing as how you only had two coworkers, Gina and Ben, and they were usually too busy sucking face in the back room to help you out with work.

But nevertheless, there were times when business slows down mid day and you were left to do whatever you wanted, which usually meant aimlessly wandering around the building, checking out the creepy Halloween masks and realistic costumes.

One costume catches your eye, a creepy clown one with a silver mask to match. You stare at it for a second or two before the sound of someone saying, ‘Anyone working?’ causes you to hurry out of the aisle and back to the counter where a familiar face waited.

“Billy.” You greet your, well not really friend, but, acquaintance, with a smile and glance at the items he placed on the counter.

A creepy mask, a fake bloody machete, a black cloak, and fake sharp claws. “Interesting costume.” You say while scanning the items.

“Can you guess what I’m going as?”

“A deranged, machete wielding, werewolf?”

Billy’s brows narrow, “Funny. I didn’t realize that you worked here, Y/N.”

“I’ve been here since we graduated high school.”

“I’ve never seen you here in those three years.”

“Didn’t realize you were looking for me.” You lean forward, elbows resting on the counter.

He doesn’t respond so you lean over and hand him a bag with his items in it and say, “See ya around, Billy”, before taking a look behind him to find Ben and Gina exiting the back room, both fixing their clothes.

“See you later.” Billy murmurs to you, and you turn your attention back to him, watching him walk away with a sigh.

“Did we miss anything?” Ben asks and sidles up next to you behind the counter.

“So you and princess are a ‘we’ now?” You ask and give a pointed look to Gina twenty feet away by a shelf.

“Careful, Y/N,” Ben teases, waggling a finger in your face, “Talk like that might make me start to think that you’re jealous.”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I’m ever jealous of her.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm.” Is your response and you watch while Ben hops on the counter, evading your personal space purposely. You do your best to ignore him and roll your eyes, turning your attention to a random zigzag pattern on the floor below you.

“Y/N…” You feel him poke your shoulder again and again, before you had no choice but to engage with him.

“What?”

“I’m not dating Gina.” He leans forward to whisper to you and you quirk a brow.

“Is that so? And you felt the need to tell me this because?”

“Because,” He leans even closer, and your eyes drift to his lips, “I have a reputation. Don’t want people in this town thinking I’m getting soft and settling down.”

“Ohh, okay.” You whisper back with a chuckle, then look up, finding Gina glaring at you.

“Benny.” She calls him over with a fake smile and you watch as Ben hops off the counter and heads over to her, shrugging.

You watch for a few minutes as the two argue over God knows what, but when Gina drags Ben into an aisle, you roll your eyes and turn around, glimpsing out the window.

For a little while, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Leaves fell, people drove or walked by, birds chirped… it wasn’t until you notice a shape of someone standing near a tall tree down the road do you pay attention.

They were too far away to really get a good look at them, but you could tell that it was a man and that he wore what looked to be dark overalls.

A customer enters shortly after that, so your attention is taken away from the mysterious man but the image was still burned into your mind.

—

By the time you were getting ready to leave work, it was after six and already dark outside so you were always on high alert when walking to your car in the vacant parking lot.

This time however, you were really on alert when you were still thinking about that man standing next to the tree earlier. “Hey, Y/N, wait up.”

Ben’s voice makes you stop for a second and you glance back at him, “Yeah?”

“You okay? You seem a little quiet.”

“I’m just ready to go home and relax.”

You can’t help but feel like your being watched and nervously glance around, finding nothing there. “Y/N? What is it?”

“Nothing.” You turn back to him, “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ben nods, “Get home safe, okay? Lots of weird shit happens in this town around Halloween.”

“It’s not Halloween yet.” You say, though your earlier uneasiness was still there.

“Just be careful. Goodnight.” He says and waves to you before heading back inside the building to finish closing up.

“Night.” You whisper after Ben was already inside and turn back to your car, unlocking with a sigh as you glance behind yourself.

Any other time you’d roll your eyes and scoff at your paranoia, but, it wasn’t until you just happen to look down and find that the two tires on your side had been slashed.

Your eyes widen and you hurry over to the other side, finding that, yes, all four tires were slashed. “Oh God.”

You take a deep breath and spin around, finding that Ben must have went into the back room to get busy with Gina again and locked the door in the process.

“Shit.” You curse and turn to the street. It wasn’t exactly unlit, with the streetlights turned on and some neighboring house had their lights on.

Everything in you was screaming that this was a bad idea, but what choice did you have? So, with a reluctant sigh, you slowly make your way onto the sidewalk, glancing behind yourself every so often.

After about fifteen minutes, you round a corner and it wasn’t until that very moment did you realize how deep in trouble you really were.

Standing about twenty feet ahead, stood a tall figure, his back to you, a sharp knife in his hand, blood dripping from it, and you look down, seeing a man, who looked to be your age, cowering in fear on the street, hands raised up in surrender.

Then it hit you. Michael Myers. You needed to do something, needed to help this man. You take a few steps forward, causing Michael to glance over his shoulder, hand clenching over his knife.

He turns, takes a step forward away from the man on the street to face you.

“Michael.”

The name is barely said above a shaky whisper and yet, it seemed to be enough to make him stop mid-step, knife gleaming by his side in the moonlight.

“Michael.” You say again, this time a little more firmer and watch as he tilts his head at you. The terrified guy in front of you nervously glances at you, silently asking you for help as he stands closer to Michael than you do, and he was also obviously the intended target, not you.

But with Michael’s attention being drawn away from this man to you, you’re able to quickly motion the guy forward and help him scramble behind you, and it was only then did you notice that the stranger was bleeding from a cut on his arm.

“Let’s go!” The man screams out to you as Michael snaps out of the little trance you managed to put him in and slowly stalks towards you two again.

He grabs your hand and urges you to follow him and you have no other choice but to nod and trust this new stranger in your life to help you get the hell away from this madman with a knife.

And with one glance back, you find that Michael was still in hot pursuit of you two, seemingly catching up while still only walking, knife raised by his side menacingly.

“In here.” The stranger whispers to you after a few minutes of running and motions you to duck inside a dark building that was guarded off by a rusty fence.

Reluctantly, you hurry behind the man and watch as he quickly climbs over the fence and hops over, waiting for you to do the same. “By the way,” He whispers again as you climb up the fence, “My name’s Steve.”

Awkward time to be exchanging names with someone but here you were, almost laughing at the ridiculous timing, “Y/N.” You whisper back and hop over the fence, thankful when Steve catches you so you don’t fall. “I’d say ‘nice to meet you’, but we really aren’t meeting under great circumstances.”

“Welcome to Haddonfield, right?”

You start to respond, but stop when you hear footsteps close by, “We need to get out of here.” You whisper again and Steve nods, gently grabbing your hand to lead you further away from the fence. One thought rings through your mind though as you and Steve quietly make your way to safety.

It wasn’t even Halloween yet.

[folkloreguk]

Still The Louvre (m)

A/N: Someone requested this and I hope you like it! This happens when you have Lorde’s Melodrama on repeat whilst writing…thanks for inspiring me queen (although I’m not sure why breakup songs made me write this lol) Also Merry early Christmas to those who celebrate!! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fluff, smut, car sex, childhood friends to lovers, a tiny bit of angst but only for 0.5 minutes maybe, I hope this heals someone who’s given up on finding love, you all deserve someone who sees the best in you!!!

words: ~ 3.9 k

.

“We’re just friends. Guys and girls can be friends! We’ve always been best friends, ever since we were seven. Nothing more.” That’s what you used to say. Now look who was the clown in those conversations all along. You guessed correctly - it was you. Because on your sixteenth birthday, he showed up in his black tee and baseball jacket, with your favorite candy and a heart-shaped necklace. Little did he know, if you could, you would have carved his initials into it, right there and then. Because it was that day, you understood one thing. You were head over heels in love with your best friend.

You would have been the perfect high school sweethearts – had it not been for the three different girls he had dated instead of you. He always had all their hearts, the only thing he needed to do was pick. And who could blame the other girls? He was all you could ever ask for, so there was no point in being bitter about their adoration for him.

Multiple times, you had tried to convince yourself you were over him. Like when you went out with one of the popular guys, only to realize three dates in that he was the possibly most boring person you had ever encountered. Or like that one time you agreed to go to prom with the class clown. He almost made you spit out your drink of laughter all night long, but when he tried to stick his tongue down your throat at the end of it all, you changed your mind. Your most successful boyfriend stayed for a full six months, before leaving you. He had been jealous of your relationship with your best friend. And you couldn’t even resent it. Your then-boyfriend had been in second place all along, and you should have never even dated him.

Long story short, whenever you looked at boys, you compared them to your best friend. And your best friend was an invincible competitor. It was safe to say, your teenage years weren’t what the films made them out to be. Except if there was a movie about a girl who cried so much about her best friend who she loved, she almost thought there was something seriously wrong with her. Some days the pain was so heavy, you’d get mad at him for no reason. Then you’d have to tell him lies that wouldn’t worry him and move on. Who could you tell? Your best friend was the one supposed to help you through boy trouble, wasn’t he? Yeah, that wasn’t going to work for you.

But that was the past. Lately, life was better. You couldn’t pinpoint when you first noticed the way he looked at you. Was it when he told you he felt like no boy in the world would be good enough for you, so maybe he should date you instead? It sounded like a joke, but his eyes said differently. Or was it when he asked you to sleep in his bed instead on his spare mattress at one of your sleepovers you’d had since you were eleven? He held you without words being shared, and neither of you addressed it in the morning. Maybe you both knew what it meant, either way. The mere thought of him liking you back was almost unbelievable for you. But after last night, you had no doubt. You had been in the elevator in the cinema with him. It was only ten seconds, and before you could have kissed his face that was inches from yours, the doors had opened. But he had chuckled and grinned at you for thrice the time afterwards. As if you had a new inside joke now.

It seemed you both knew what you wanted. But were you willing to take your friendship to that level?

Today, you were sure you were willing. Your heart almost ached in desire for him when you saw him standing with your shared friends. There, on the beach in the dark of night, with a bonfire drawing the warmest orange glow on his skin, you thought he had never looked more handsome. It was a small get-together between old school friends you both hadn’t seen in a while. And you should have been all over them, asking them about their lives and how they’ve been. Instead you only had eyes for the person you saw every day of your life. You swore you’d never get enough of his sweet smile and eyes so trustworthy you wanted to put all your deepest secrets right into his hands. His chest was heaving from laughter as he pat his friend’s shoulder in agreement. Oh, how dearly you wanted that hand to slip into your very own.

It was a warm night, you had been eating marshmallows, sharing genuine laughter and looking up at the stars and the full moon. Only one thing could have made your experience better, or one person, rather. You silently cursed yourself, because the night was coming to an end – some people had already left – and you still hadn’t made your move on him like you had planned it. But then your song played from the speaker. The very song you two always played in your car whenever you drove somewhere together. Every small beat reminded you of him and the lyrics were carved into your heart, it seemed.

When he noticed, his eyes shot up and met yours. They crinkled up into a smile that you returned. Finally, he made his way over to you and automatically your arms opened for him. Like coming home, he melted into your figure, arms mellow around your body. Quietly, he sang along into your ear, like every little word was meant just for you. You only pulled away slightly, so you could look at each other’s faces. You could’ve cried, realizing the time you had waited for him had been worth it after all. He was giving you a look you had thought would be forever reserved for other girls – but never for you. The starry sky above you wouldn’t stand a chance compared to his dreamy eyes and the fresh ocean air could easily be forgotten, if it meant to be in his arms and breathe in his familiar scent. If you leaned forward only a little, you could kiss him.

“Guys, we’re headed off,” a voice interrupted you.

“We should get going too, don’t you think?” he said. Almost mechanically, you nodded. You reminded yourself that you would still be in the car with him for twenty minutes until you’d arrive at home. And he’d stay at your place. You had him all night long. As you walked to your car, his hand brushed against yours softly, and you weren’t sure if it was just an accident, at first. But he was smiling as if he knew everything when you looked over at him and there you had your answer. The moment he had sat down in the passenger seat of your car, he was digging around for a CD to play. He settled for a playlist he had made for you in spring.

There was so much to be said and simultaneously silence had never felt more comfortable while you drove. You were going south along the high cliffs to your right. It was truly the most beautiful part of your hometown.

“I hate driving here,” you said.

“You don’t like driving along the cliffs? Too dangerous?” he asked.

“No. It’s too beautiful here to just look straight ahead at the road,” you said. He chuckled.

“We can stop at the tourist spot if you want to look at the sea,” he suggested. You smiled because he knew you so well. The ‘tourist spot’ really was a small parking spot right by the road, with space for about ten cars. You could already see it ahead of you. On sunny days lots of people driving down the coast liked to stop there for a rest and to take photos. Now, it was completely empty, of course. You parked at the spot closest to the cliff, so you could look down at the sea without having to get out of your car.

The slow playlist he had made for you was still playing when you switched off the engine. You knew right then and there, no matter where the night went, you’d remember this moment forever. The glow of the full moon was sparkling on the wild billows beneath you. Your eyes fixed on the horizon for a moment, as if you could have seen the closest island if only you paid enough attention. But it was only a wild vastness seemingly without end. Momentarily, you thought you spotted something in the water. Whales? But when you looked closer, there was nothing but the white and dark blue colors of the tempestuous waves.

“It’s gorgeous,” you spoke into the silence, your chin resting on your forearms on the steering wheel. You waited for his response. When it didn’t come, you turned to look his way. He was already looking at you. If cupid was real, he had just fired another arrow at your heart. Never could you have guessed how your best friend’s foolish grin could have made your heart skip a beat like this. Without another thought entering your head, you bent over to him. He knew what it meant when you mirrored his smile.

And then, you closed your eyes. You could admit it now - every time you had blown out your birthday candles, this was all you had ever wished for. His lips fit so perfectly onto yours. After the amount of times you had imagined it, really kissing him still was so much better than it had ever felt in your wildest dreams. His hands tangled in your hair and you almost couldn’t breathe. But then again, you didn’t need to. Right then, you didn’t need anything but him. For the first time, you touched the back of his neck in the way you had always wanted to – to pull his mouth closer to yours.

When you pulled away, everything in you screamed ‘Do it again! Now!’. It was as if your mind was worried that he would slip right through your fingertips if you didn’t hold him close to you for the rest of your life. Too many times you had thought that maybe you could have him, only to be let down because your hopes were too high.

“When did you first want to do this?” you asked, because you needed to know.

“About four months ago, probably. What about you?” he said. His hand was still on yours, as if to say “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere”.

“Ever since I was sixteen,” you said. You could have lied, but what was the use? You loved him too much to ever deceive him. His eyes widened. His hurt was yours, and so you understood the way your words must had pierced through his heart. Now he knew. You could practically read it in his eyes, how he realized the pain, the jealousy and disappointment he had caused, for years, without ever intending to do so. And although you should have wanted him to understand your hurt, the guilt and pain in his look was unbearable.

“It’s not your fau-“ you started.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N,” he interrupted you. “I’m so sorry – god I’m such an ignorant asshole.”

“No!” you said, taking his hand in both of yours. “You are my best friend, and you have caused me endless hours of happiness. I would have taken any sadness if it meant I could be your best friend forever.”

His eyes were watering and your heart felt like someone had gripped and twisted it in their bare hands.

“I was dating people and you had to sit and watch,” he said in disbelief.

“It meant to see you happy,” you said. “Hating you or those girls wouldn’t have changed your feelings for me. Because we don’t choose what we feel and for whom we feel things.”

“I love you,” he let out. “I’m so in love with you and I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life, I swear.”

His words hit you like a torrent and you didn’t even care about the years of hurt anymore.

“There’s nothing you need to make up to me. I just need you to be here with me. Let me love you the way I’ve secretly loved you all this time,” you said. You touched foreheads until your breaths mixed.

“I’m yours – all yours,” he said. “I’m sorry. It took so long for me to realize and you were here all along, waiting for me. I never wanted to hurt you. How can I apologize properly?”

“Just kiss me again, please,” you said, almost begged. “Kiss me and it’ll all go away.”

And so he did. You had never known how much emotion could be in a kiss. But then again, you had never felt this strongly for anyone else but him. You deepened the kiss, bending almost all the way over to his side of the car. His hands were touching your cheeks so gently, but they were coaxing you closer and closer. When his tongue stroked over your bottom lip, you sighed against his mouth.

“I want you,” you admitted. You thought about driving home, but you needed to be honest to yourself. Driving in this state of mind was probably not safe.

“Backseat?” he asked, lips barely leaving yours alone. Hastily, you nodded. He climbed back there first, then you followed. It was only ten seconds that you couldn’t hold him for, but you yearned for him more than ever when you finally sat down in his lap, facing him. Without hesitation, your hungry mouths attacked each other again. You swore, you could have sat there all night long, kissing and touching him, if there hadn’t been something you wanted even more.

Swiftly, you slid his shirt over his head. Of course, you had seen him shirtless before, but never like this. Never with his chest practically heaving against yours, never with your hands being able, being allowed to touch him. Your fingertips were shaky against his smooth skin and you must had looked at him as if he was carved directly from marble. So he put his fingers under your chin and you looked into his eyes. If his body was marble, his eyes were diamonds. Ever so gently, he kissed you again. For a while you sipped on each other’s lips, only pulling away for a moment so you could remove your own shirt. You had opted to not wear a bra that day, out of comfort but also laziness. All along you used to think that saying someone’s eyes darkened in lust was an exaggeration, but when you looked into his, you understood. It was true. The way he eyed you was beyond all your most daring dreams you had ever dreamt about him.

Your lips meddled messily as his hands ran down your body starting from your neck, to your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples. He was careful not to tickle you, knowing from hundreds of childhood play fights where your weak spots were. Your back arched against his chest, wanting more than his careful touches. On impulse, your hips ground against his crotch. As if on cue, you both let out strained noises. By now, your breaths were heavy when you pulled away shortly. Dreamy eyed, he touched the pendant of the necklace between your collar bones.  

“I gave you that…,” he started.

“For my sixteenth birthday,” you finished his sentence. You caught a flash of regret in his gaze, but you weren’t going to let him feel that way. Not now. Like you had wanted to so many times, you bent to his neck and began peppering kisses on his skin.

“Can I give you a hickey?” you whispered, almost afraid you were still in a dream.

“Just one?” he asked, and even without looking at him you could hear the grin in his voice. After sharing him with so many girls for so long, it almost felt selfish. But you reminded yourself that he wanted you now, after all. He groaned when your teeth grazed his skin and you sucked purple marks onto his neck and shoulder. His restless hands touched all over your boobs and hips, down to your ass where they slid into the back pockets of your pants for a moment. Again, you pressed your crotch against his hips, yearning for any kind of friction. At the same time, your hand wandered along his chest to the hem of his pants. Without looking, you opened his belt and the zipper of his bottoms.

He hissed when you grabbed his clothed dick through his underwear and his fingers dug into your sides. A few times you pumped his already hard shaft through the material. Then he moaned your name and you had never heard anything more perfect. The mere sound of his breathy, husky voice turned you on so much more than you had ever imagined.

“Fuck me, please,” you spoke, kissing him deeply. He hummed a needy yes against your lips and nodded. You climbed off him so you could lie down on the seats. He wriggled out of his pants and then helped you out of your own. When he lay down between your thighs and you felt his weight on top of you, it seemed like he had always belonged right there. It had been a hauntingly long journey, but now that you knew the end of it, you accepted all the sleepless nights you had experienced.

“Hold on,” you said, finding your bag on the floor to reach for the condom inside. He hummed a thank you as he ripped the pack and rolled the rubber over his stiff member. His fingertips teased the inside of your thighs, while he pressed open mouthed kisses onto your neck. A drawn out moan of agreement left your lips and momentarily, your eyes shut in the bliss of anticipation.

“You look so beautiful in the moonlight,” he said. His fingers run through your folds, collecting the wetness. You couldn’t help but whimper at the contact, and maybe also slightly because his words made your heart swell in the most marvelous way possible. Through flattering eyelids, you watched his stupidly handsome features as he curled his fingertips against your clit. All of you wanted more, but you only managed to moan his name in pleasure.

“You ready?” he asked, and you weren’t sure if you brain had even processed the amount of rapture he was causing you – but of course you were. You had been for years.

“Yes,” you said. Just for a moment, he run the tip of his cock through your wet folds. When he finally entered you, you realized you had been holding your breath – now it came out in a relieved sigh. He groaned at the mere sensation of filling you up, and when you opened your eyes to look at him it almost made you dizzy in admiration. Gradually, he thrusted into you, hips fitting against yours like two puzzle pieces finally united.

As he picked up the pace, you moaned in surprise but more in agreement. You felt his hand on yours and linked your fingers. Other men had made you feel good before – but only now you realized how true those statements from women were, when they said that nothing was like sleeping with the one you were in love with. The mixture of pleasure and the way you mooned over his whole being was a lot to take in. But it would never be too much. He was perfect for you. When you threw your head back you spotted the full moon and the brightest stars in the sky, trying to outshine each other.

He hit a spot inside of you that made you arch your back off the seats. Tightly, you shut your eyes and squeezed his hand.

“Oh my- You feel so good,” you moaned. When you felt the tip of his nose brush against yours, you opened your eyes. They met his galaxy eyes, and his mouth was parted slightly. You could barely breathe at the way he looked at you. When would anyone else ever see you in this way? It didn’t matter, you only wanted him either way.

He reached for the back of your thigh, lifting your leg slightly. The different angle felt even better, making you whimper and grab the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate for somewhere to hold on to. He groaned when you pulled his hair a little, and you smirked. You could barely wait to find out all the other things he liked and wanted to do to you in the future. But for now, you weren’t in a rush. It had been a long time since you had felt so at peace and full of happiness. Time was nonexistent right then. All you knew were his soft lips on your jaw and the way his perfect cock was making you see a blur of stars in front of your eyelids.

“I’m gonna- come,” you whimpered.

“Hmm…me too,” he groaned. “Let go for me, baby.”

His hand came in contact with your clit, feverishly rubbing the sensitive nub. The nickname he had called you would have made your cheeks heat up, had they not already been that way from the intensity of your emotions. Your stomach tightened and you only wanted to pull him closer to you.

He reached his high shortly before you did. A few curses fell off his lips as you felt him twitch inside of you, hips moving in sharp thrusts. Even if you had wanted to look at him, it was impossible for you to keep your eyes open, as his fingers still worked their magic on you. His last thrusts were hard and short, but they sent you over the edge too. Just as he pulled out, you met your climax. It was like falling but knowing there was a pair of gentle arms right there to catch you, so you didn’t have to be scared. You moaned his name, and this time he was actually here to hear it. Your chest pressed against his, foreheads touching, your legs tightened around his waist from sensitivity. After slowing down, he removed his fingers from your center completely.

Together, you lay in silence trying to catch your breaths and clear your heads. You scooted over a little, so he could balance his body on his side next to you. Light as a feather, his fingers brushed over your lips, before he bent down and kissed you again. This time it was a long kiss, with less need but even more passion. For what felt like the hundredth time, you questioned reality. Almost as if to check if it really was him, you stroked over his cheek and gazed up at him. But he was right there. Your best friend. Now more than your best friend. Through the opened crack of the car window you made out the crashing waves that caressed the cliffs underneath you two. Mingled with your song playing from the car’s speakers, the mysterious noise seemed to pick you up and tell you “Look at what you’ve been through, only one last time, then put it behind you. You’re where you’re supposed to be, now.”

[jungshookz]

ok so like y/n hanging out with her friends at an ice cream shop and super cute employee kook so happens to make y/n very nervous

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook (birthday boy!!!) x reader

➺ genre; marshmallow fluff level fluffy!!!! if u have a sweet tooth then this drabble is for you, jimin and taehyung are nightmare friends and i don’t know why u insist on hanging out with them all the time, *clown nose honk* 

➺ wordcount: 3.5k

➺ what to expect;  “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

                                      »»————-　♡　————-««

“oh, god. i think you’re going to have to roll me into the car.” you groan as you place a hand over your bloated stomach, “also, i’m… pretty sure i’m nine months pregnant.”  

whoever came up with the whole ‘all you can eat buffet!’ concept must’ve been a psychopath because you feel like if you take another step you’re going to projectile vomit all the way across town

you let out a huff as you bend down and place your hands on your knees

jesus

you’re going to be siCK

“no one asked you to eat like seven servings of mac n’ cheese balls.” jimin raises a brow before rubbing your back in comforting circles

“i’m sorry, do you not hear yourself?” you twist your head before looking at him as if he just sprouted two heads on each shoulder, “mac n’ cheese balls. deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. all you can eat deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. with a tangy chipotle-ranch dip on the side!”  

“alright, i get it.” he snorts before rolling his eyes, “i’m guessing this means you’re not in the mood for dessert anymore?”

you immediately stand up straight before giving your stomach a couple of pats, “where are we going for dessert??”

you’re ALWAYS in the mood for dessert

your first stomach might be full of food but your second stomach is completely empty

the monster inside your second stomach demands something sweet!

“well, scoops is right across the street. i heard the ice cream there is pretty good!” taehyung chirps before pointing at the ice cream place

you immediately feel your heart fall out of your ass

you usually never say no to ice cream but uh

there’s one reason why you’d prefer to go someplace else

jimin glances back when he notices you’re not following them to cross the street

he raises a brow before tilting his head, “if you actually need to puke, the garbage bin is right the-“

“i’m fine, i just-“ your voice cracks and you clear your throat quickly, “why do we have to go for ice cream?? there’s a frozen yogurt place a couple blocks away… and frozen yogurt is just as good!”

jimin and taehyung exchange glances before the two of them look back at you

“weren’t you the one who said that frozen yogurt was just a sad, watered-down version of ice cream and that the day you asked to go for frozen yogurt was the day we should execute you via cruel, unusual punishment?”

“yeah, and the cruel, unusual punishment was to force you to eat frozen yogurt?”

you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek

damnit

they’re right

you friggin’ hate frozen yogurt

“ooh, check it out!” jimin gasps, his eyes lighting up, “strawberry-rhubarb pie. i wonder how they turned a pie into an ice cream flavour!”

“uh-huh, yeah…” you mutter absentmindedly, eyes flitting around behind the large counter

okay

okay!

this is fine

everything is fine

maybe today is his day off something!  

hopEfully today is his day off because you are literally about to pop a button on your jeans and the last person who you’d want to have witness that would be-

“good evening, folks!” you practically jump out of your skin and you instinctively duck behind taehyung when he seems to pop out of thin air

he smiles brightly as he props his arms up on the top of the display case, “just give me a holler whenever you’re ready.”

okay

we should probably rewind a little bit

‘he’ would be… well, the person you’re currently hiding from.  

you don’t know much about him besides the fact that his name is jungkook (the name tags here are comically large, by the way. it’s actually a little ridiculous. it’s like the employees think all the customers are blind and that’s why they made their name tags the size of a baby’s head.) and every time you come here he gives you extra hot fudge on your ice cream and also he’s very veRY cute

you usually come here after you finish submitting an essay or doing a live presentation as a way to reward yourself

because why live life if you’re not going to treat yourself every now and again??

you started this tradition at the beginning of the year and originaLLy you went to the only ice cream place on campus

unfortunately, the ice cream place on campus isn’t super great

their waffle cones are always stale and the ice cream pretty much melts as soon as you take a step outside of the store

and you werE going to give up and just find another place (your second option was the ice cream at mcdonald’s but that’s actually kind of sad now that you think about it) but!!!!

you felt like you deserved to have good ice cream!!!

so you googled the best ice cream parlours in the city and scoops was one of the only ones that was the closest to campus

only a ten minute bus ride away and you didn’t even have to transfer to another bus or anything

it was pretty much a dream come true!!

and you still remember the first time you wandered in here because you were greeted veRy enthusiastically by jungkook

you were pretty much the only person in the store on that day because it was like 2pm on a tuesday which made it hard to believe that this place was as popular as it sounded

to be fair, 2pm on a tuesday isn’t really the normal time to grab a cone of ice cream so there’s that

“you’re not striking me as the cookies ’n cream type. that seems a little too basic for you…” jungkook mutters as he stroked at his chin thoughtfully, “and i’m not getting a rocky road vibe from you, either…”

“is that so?” the corner of your mouth twitches in a smile and you cross your arms as you begin to make your way down the counter, jungkook slowly following you from where he’s standing, “what kind of vibe are you getting from me?”

“red velvet cake!” jungkook stops in his tracks to point at the tub of red velvet ice cream sitting in the display case, “in a brownie waffle cone… with hot fudge on top.”

your brows perk up in interest

red velvet cake ice cream

in a brownie waffle cone

with hot fudge on top?

…that sounds like something you’d devour in three seconds flat.  

you obviously ended up enjoying the ice cream, and from that moment on, you promised yourself that this would be your place to celebrate your little victories

so, yeah!

the ice cream was good and the cute boy was just a bonus

of course… there is one tiny detail that has to be addressed

if it wasn’t already painfully obvious by now - jungkook makes you extremely nervous.

you’re not sure how it started, because you were literally fine when you first met him

the nerves appeared without warning of any kind!!

it was very strange

one day jungkook’s smile suddenly made your heart skip a beat and you had nO idea why because it had never done that before

and another time, when he told you that you were his favourite customer, your stomach started doing somersaults which was also something that your stomach had nevER done before

ooh, AND that one time when he said that he’d make a fresh batch of brownie waffle cones just for you… well, you were pretty much ready to marry him right then and there.

sure, when you saw the occasional attractive person on the street, you’d have the usual ‘oh, they’re pretty cute!’ thought, but that’d be it and then you’d never think about them again

but it was different with jungkook

it was more intense with jungkook

this wasn’t just a little schoolgirl crush.,,. this was,.., this was a schoolwoMAN crush

you initially thought that all these brand new feelings combined with the tingly feeling of chocolate syrup pumping through your veins should’ve been enough to scare you away from scoops forever, but…

the only reason why you keep swallowing your nerves and coming back is because the ice cream is really good here (five gold stars on google reviews!!) aND you can’t say no to extra hot fudge on the house!!!

sometimes jungkook surprises you with a couple brownie chunks or marshmallows or even cheesecake chunks on top without ever charging you which is also really nice of him

not to mention, on the days that you end class a little earlier, you like to come here to get some studying done

you have your own little table in the corner and jungkook always brings you a little treat to enjoy during your study session

nothing huGe like your usual red velvet brownie waffle hot fudge combo because you told him that you were only allowed to eat that if you were celebrating something, so he usually brings you a little cup with a random flavour of ice cream in it

strawberry shortcake

cinnamon toast crunch

banana milk is a really good one

and you can’t noT mention the chocolate-covered strawberries ice cream

the ice cream is a tangy strawberry base with swirls of dark chocolate in it and it is truly.,,. truly one of the best things you’ve ever put in your mouth

you just don’t understand why your knees get so wobbly and your palms get sO sweaty every time he flashes that handsome smile of his in your direction

you see plenty of attractive people every day on campus!

you see plenty of attractive people every day in your lectures!

your two friends are a couple of attractive people as well!!

at one point you even had crushes on boTh jimin and taehyung!! 

(you will be taking that information to your grave because if they find out.,,. you’ll never live it down)

so why is this any different??

“so, i’m gonna go with the strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… and-“ jimin turns to look at taehyung (and you, currently peeking at jimin over taehyung’s shoulder), “what are you guys getting?”

your eyes widen and you duck down again when jungkook leans over to look at you and taehyung

“i’m gonna go with… the dark chocolate and caramel swirl… in a plain waffle cone.” taehyung nods affirmatively, “yeah. take the order now before i overthink it.”

“one strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… one dark chocolate and caramel swirl in a plain waffle cone…” jungkook mumbles to himself as he rinses the ice cream scooper in the little bucket of water before tapping it off on the side, “-and one red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top, right, y/n?”

boTh taehyung and jimin’s heads nearly snap off when they turn to look at you

taehyung steps out of the way and you freeze like a deer in headlights

maybe if you just… stay very still… jungkook won’t see you…

a good two seconds ticks by before you figure that you probably look like an idiot right now

“um-“ you straighten up a little before smoothing your sweater down, “i… yep! that… yep. sounds good.”

jungkook smiles brightly before nodding, “alright! just give me a couple of minutes to get that ready for you guys.”

your heart starts to drum away in your chest as you watch the back of jungkook’s head

even the back of his damn head is attractive

it’s not fair!!!!

“…i feel like there’s something we’re missing here.” taehyung is the first one to speak up and you force out a chuckle before shaking your head

time to do what you do best

D E N Y

“there’s nothing you’re missing here!” you snort, “he just- i’ve been here like, once or twice, so-“

“red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top sounds a little too specific for you to have only been here once or tw-“ jimin pauses and his eyes widen to the size of saucers, “oh my god.”

your brows knit together in concern, “wh- what?”

a smile begins to creep onto jimin’s face and your mind begins to race with what he could possibLy be thinking when suddenly- “you slept with him!” jimin gasps before whacking tae’s arm multiple times, “she slept with him!!!”

“wha- NO- no, i did not sleep with jungk-!” you lower your voice when you realise that there are children in here and you lean in, “i didn’t sleep with him. i just- i come here a lot, and- i don’t know. he’s nice! a-and he’s cute. he’s- he’s nice and he’s cute. and he gives me free things, sometimes.”

“…yeah, i think she’s telling the truth. she definitely didn’t sleep with him.“ taehyung shakes his head and you let out a sigh of relief

at least someone’s on your side here

you jolt when taehyung suddenly gives you a hearty sLAp on the back, “she’s just in love with him and doesn’t know how to tell him-“

OH my go-

“hey, your ice creams are ready for you!” jungkook, once again, seemingly pops out of thin air and the thrEE of you immediately split up the mini football huddle, “i have them for you at the cash register if you wanna come over and get them! y/n, i tried something new with your cone - i wrapped marshmallow fluff around the top and then caramelised it so it’d turn into, like, a s’mores situation-”

“y-yep! i’ll be right there-“ you hold a finger out and jungkook nods before heading over to the cash register

you turn to look at jimin and taehyung and scowl when the two of them begin to make kissy noises at each other

“oh, y/n, come to the back so i can show you my cone-“

“you can fluff my marshmallows any day of the week, jungkook-“

oh, god

see????

this was exaCTLY why you didn’t want to come here!!!!

in case this happened!!!!!

“oh my god, lemme drizzle my syrup all over your face, baby-“

“okay, c’mon, that’s enough-“

“roll me up like how you roll those waffle cones with your big, strong arms-“

jesus christ

children!!!!!!!

they are both chiLdren!!!!

boys are so GROSS

jungkook waits patiently by the cash register as his fingers drum against the marble countertop

he leans over to peek at you and your friends and smiles lightly when he sees you whaCk at one of them

to be honest, he liked you the moment you stepped into the shop for the first time

he still remembers how excited you were when you were looking at all the different flavours

according to the company policy, customers are only allowed to try four samples but jungkook’s pretty sure he let you try twenty samples on that day

after the first time you came here, he was actually pretty worried that he’d never see you again??

he was pretty bummed about it for a while because he wished that he would’ve asked for your number or something while you were here but he was too busy trying to be the charming ice-cream boy anD he was also pretty busy admiring your cute face

so he was very much pleasantly surprised when you came back a week later and was fully ready to let you go ham on the samples again

>:-)

but, again, he didn’t ask for your number that time around either because he couldn’t figure out a smooth way to ask you

and he wasn’t worried about you noT coming back because you seemed like a pretty big ice cream person

the point is: jungkook’s had plenty of opportunities (practically handed to him on a silver platter) to ask for your number so that he can finally ask you OUT and… he hasn’t.

but today!!!!

today will be different!!!!

today he’ll finally make his move!!!

he’s not giving himself an option!!!

he actually wasn’t expecting you in today because you usually pop up every two weeks or so and you came in last week

at first he thought that maybe you were dating one of the boys that you came in with but from the looks of it, the vibes are very much platonic and not at all romantic

so he thinks he’s in the clear here

jungkook straightens his posture and puffs his chest out a little bit when he sees you walking over

okay

operation: finally ask y/n for her number, you pussy is undERWAY

“well, i’m going to go and pay for your guys’ ice creams and you can just continue to make fools of yourselves-!”

by the time you make your way over to the cash register, jimin and taehyung are stiLL going at it but you’re hoping that jungkook won’t pay it any mind

“alright, how much do i owe you?” you ask as you pull your debit card out of your wallet, “this ice cream is the only thing i’m willing to break my wallet over-“

“actually, all of this is on the house today.” jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet for a second, “it’s the special birthday discount!”

?

you tilt your head

what special birthday discount?

“birthday discount?” you ask dumbly, “it’s not my birthday, though.”

“no, it’s not your birthday… but it’s my birthday.” jungkook clears his throat, “and… you know, i wanted to do something nice for you!”

“okay, well, first of all- happy birthday!” you smile brightly before that smile immediately drops from your face, “and, second of all- i can’t take this for free, jungkook- you even sprinkled those fancy toasted pecans on top of taehyung’s ice cream! i have to give you something-“

jungkook swallows his nerves

it’s now or never!

“there is… one thing you could give me…” he trails off, his voice starting to grow a little quiet

okay

the confidence is beginning to dwindle a little so he should probably get to the point 

“yeah, i can think of one thing- like money??” you stick your debit card out again and jungkook rolls his eyes playfully before whacking your hand away

okay

just say it

just say it!!!!!!

“no, not money…” jungkook swallows thickly before shaking his head, “i was thinking more along the lines of… you know, your number.”

you drop your debit card on the countertop with a clatter

“my-“ you cut yourself off mid-sentence and you feel your cheeks immediately turn bright red, “you- you want my number?”

jungkook… jungkook wants your number?

you feel like money would be better than your number, but that’s just your humble opinion

“i mean- you obviously don’t have to give it to me if you don’t want to! i-i’m not trying to imply that you owe me anything, i just-“ jungkook pauses for a second and his tongue pokes out to swipe over his bottom lip nervously, “i just, um, i don’t know! i… i really… enjoy your company, whenever you come in for a visit, you know? and i think you’re really pretty, so there’s that. i dunno.”

well, he can safely say that his self-proclaimed boyish charm flew out of the window as soon as he opened his mouth

why’s he so nervous all of a sudden??

he’s practiced this in front of the mirror a doZEN times

and every time he hits on himself in the mirror he’s tempted to give himself his number

that’s how good he is at flirting!!

but here he is!!! 

fumbling over his words!!! 

shoving his clammy hands into his pockets!!! 

diverting his gaze from the pretty girl who he’s been dreaming about ever since the first time he laid his undeserving eyes on her!!!

“no, no-! i just-“ you smile shyly as you slide your debit card back into your wallet with clumsy hands, “i would absolutely love to give you my number! it’s just that i- i didn’t- i didn’t think that you… liked me like that.”

jungkook looks up at you before scoffing playfully, “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

you press your lips together before flashing a sheepish smile at him, “i mean… i was probably paying more attention to the ice cream than to you.”  

jungkook snorts

he should’ve seen that coming. 

(p.s. he heard every single word of what your friends said earlier and this is just his dumb icky sleazy boy brain speaking but he’d be down to drizzle his syrup on ur face if you allowed him to) 

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody]

Okay so what about david stating to gain alot of weight quickly and everyones kinda worried but he's actually just really happy and comfortable in his relationship + probably finding out hes kinda into it

(And maybe even patrick not knowing so he gets a bit worried too)

Oh I love this!! (As you may know from following me) wg as a sign of recovery/happiness/comfort is one of my favorite tropes of all time so I would love to see this for David!! either gaining weight when he starts getting comfortable with Patrick once they’ve settled the whole barbecue/olive branch debacle, or I could also see like, David waiting until after the wedding bc he has Very Specific Visions of how things should look and also probably has had pieces of that outfit picked out since his old life and where is he going to find a tailor here he can trust to let out the seams without causing irreparable damage? waiting after the wedding and then deciding that he’s not dieting anymore. after the wedding, he can eat whatever he wants, no matter what it is, no matter how much, no matter how often. he gets to eat specifically because he wants to, no more restricting or holding himself back or switching out to a healthier option. and his metabolism is slowing down, his body is settling a little more as he settles down, and so he does gain a lot of weight quickly but he also isn’t worrying about it the way he used to because he feels secure enough to let his body change without fear that his partner is going to reject him for it. 

but of course David has a history of worrying about these things and handling them Uh Pretty Badly, so when he starts plumping up, everyone starts swooping in to check on him. Johnny and Moira trying to ask after his mental health in their own awkward, less-than-helpful ways (”so, son ... you know, sometimes ... when someone isn’t talking about something that’s bothering them ... it comes out in, ah, you know ... other ways, like maybe, ah, a lot of cheeseburgers at the cafe -- I mean, at a cafe -- and, you know, it might help that person to, ah, talk about it!” / “DaViD, I do hope your emotional entanglements are not imposing a hamper on your wellBeInG, lest we reprise your cognitive doldrums of two! thousand! and! fiiiive!”), Alexis fussing over him and offering him a little bit of the high-end moisturizer she treats herself to because it’s infused with sweet orange oil and it’s, like, so good at lifting your spirits, David, like, you will feel like a whole new person with just, like, the teeniest smidge, and suggesting little trips and excursions because she thinks something is wrong and wants to perk him up, despite David not actually ... seeming down. but in the past his weight gains have always been accompanied by a lot of shame and guilt and heartbreak and he guesses he sort of quietly did all the unlearning about that and it didn’t occur to anyone else to do so, because they’re all hovering over him and making kind little offers and trying to help him when he does not need it, thank you very much!!

(cue Stevie in the background having a pleasant but more-than-vaguely threatening conversation with Patrick because if she finds out that, say, he hid something else from David, or he’s upsetting David in some way, well, is Patrick aware that there are bodies buried on the motel grounds that no one has ever found? no? interesting ... ! but Patrick’s a little worried too, because he’s heard David talk about his body in the past and his language isn’t always ... the kindest? so he’s sort of treating David with kid gloves, trying not to patronize him but also not to cause some kind of body-image meltdown. he very carefully doesn’t say anything about food or David’s steadily climbing weight or his snug clothes, but he tries to go heavy on the casual touches and affection so David can at least be secure that Patrick is here for him for whatever’s going on.)

finally Alexis says something while she and David are out browsing at some very sad little indie mall, like, seventeen towns over and the way she says it, it could be about his perceived mental anguish or his weight, and he kind of snaps back at her and tells her he’s very happy with his body, and he’s very happy period, thanks so much, squinty unamused smile, and she just looks him up and down and goes, “well, duh, David, it’s not like getting fat is a bad thing, it’s just historically been a bad thing for you,” and tosses her hair and pushes a sweater into his hands before flouncing away like this is fully how she intended this conversation to go. the sweater is a 3x and not completely awful and David doesn’t even own anything in a 3x yet but somehow she intuited that it would fit perfectly? (in the car on the way home he has Sarah McLachlan on and Alexis hasn’t said a word to complain about it yet, which means something is up, and finally she runs her fingers through the ends of her hair and goes, like there was no break in their conversation at all, “okay but like, I think we all just thought it was, like, the birthday clown thing all over again, and you were just going to go radio silent for like six months and we would all be, like, highkey worried about you even if we only seemed lowkey worried about you or, like, not worried about you at all, and then you’d come out, like, four sizes bigger and be super mean to yourself for like another six months before you lost it all, and, like, none of us want to see that happen again, David. not because of the weight. because we care about you and we don’t want you to go through that again.” she sits back hard in her seat and punches the stereo dial. “also because you’re listening to Sarah what’s-her-name with all those sad puppy commercials and, like, that does not suggest a healthy mental state, David, ugh.” David lets that sink in for a few minutes. He smiles to himself. He lets Alexis change the music.

and when he and Patrick finally talk about it, David tells him that he really doesn’t need to worry, maybe gives him the rundown on the behaviors he actually SHOULD worry about if David ever starts exhibiting (which he can fact-check with Alexis, who’s apparently been keeping the score way more than David has given her credit for). he tells Patrick that it actually feels very freeing, letting himself get bigger and not policing what he eats anymore, and he’s never really been in a situation before where he felt secure and safe enough to be comfortable exploring that, and obviously he would love if Patrick wanted to sort of ... get involved, so to speak?? and even if it isn’t Patrick’s kink the way it’s David’s, Patrick is VERY down to love on David’s body and learn to appreciate it in the Extremely Specific ways David wants it appreciated. he can’t imagine a situation where more David would ever be a bad thing, so it’s super, super exciting to learn that not only does David agree, but plans to make sure that there’s going to be a lot more of him going forward now that they’re both on the same page.

(ALSO i’m really into the idea of David having been heavy before, but by circumstance rather than decision, and now taking this opportunity to explore being fat deliberately instead!! I threw some words together about it a while back and I’m gonna put them under a cut bc it does mention unwanted wg from meds and I’m not sure if that’s a trigger for anyone!)

Trim is relative, of course. He’s gained a whopping thirty-eight pounds since moving here a few years ago, and — it’s fine, he’s made his peace with it, he just likes things to be intentional, his body included. He’d mind those thirty-eight pounds much less if he had gained them by indulging himself, by enjoying treats he had chosen specifically for pleasure, rather than by stress-eating in his motel room.

He’s been heavy before — in his early twenties, he’d tried an antidepressant that hollowed out his appetite and added sixty pounds to his frame. He hadn’t stayed on it long, because it made him sick when he drank and he wasn’t in a place to give up drinking then, or even to cut back, but the weight had lingered for a good six months before he'd managed to shave it off with party drugs and an absolutely punishing workout regimen. It’s intentional, he told people when they asked about the weight, because they did ask and it always disarmed them. And although it wasn’t true, he’d let himself think sometimes about the possibility. He kind of liked being heavy. He kind of liked taking up space. He kind of liked jiggling. It made him feel like some sort of prince, indulgent and luxurious, the picture of wealth, and he thought that maybe he could have more-than-liked it, if it had just been something he’d chosen.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Permission To Go Out

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, Jack (all platonic)

Inspiration: Season 14, Episode 16 – Don’t Go Into The Woods

Warnings: Some language, slight injury.

Summary: While you and the brothers are out on a case, Jack graces your phone with a call to ask if he can hang out with the kids in town (like the sweet boy he is)

The Impala came to a stop and when you looked out the window, you saw several rows of cars before the motel rooms were visible.

“Okay, now you’re being petty.”

You had called him out for doing a crappy parking job when they were at the gas station and then again when they did a small pit stop for food. The second time was just to get under his skin and you got a few insults in that managed to get a chuckle from Sam.

As an act of revenge, Dean purposely parked the car in the spot furthest from their motel room so you’d have to walk.

“Sweetheart, I don’t do petty.” Dean said and got out of the drivers seat.

You followed his lead and stepped out of the car. You closed the backdoor with your hip and suddenly found a duffle bag being shoved into your arms - the weapons inside of it clanging against one another.

“And because of your antics on the road, you’re going to be the one doing the double trip to unload our stuff.” Dean told you with a smug grin. He walked off in the direction of their room while you made your way over to Sam who had just pulled his bag over his shoulder.

“What a baby, am I right?” You scoffed. 

Sam shifted the weight of his bag and chuckled. “Is the long walk and double trip not enough punishment for you?” He wondered. You smiled back and started to follow after the blonde with the tall hunter. 

“Okay but I wasn’t wrong when I said that Jack could have pulled up at the gas station better than him.”

“I think Dean would rather sell the car to a scrapyard before admitting that he did a poor job.”

You and Sam laughed at the hunters expense and caught up with him at the front door - a door that Dean was just staring at.

You cleared your throat loudly. “Hey, Einstein? You put the key in the hole and then you turn the handle.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the tune and ignored the sarcastic comment entirely, instead he turned to you and Sam with a smile.

“Get ready to feast your eyes on the very same room that Bon Jovi stayed in during his first ever American tour.”

You had a witty remark at the tip of your tongue but was forced to catch it when you felt your phone buzz in her pocket.

Dean opened up the room as you fished out the device, smiling at the caller ID. You stepped inside after Sam and pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hey.” You answered, casually tossing the duffle bag on the closest bed.

“Hello, (Y/n). I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” You replied and earned yourself a questioning look from Dean.

Jack, you mouthed back.

You grabbed the Impala keys from the table and shook them at the boys so they’d know that you were going to retrieve the rest of their things. Dean was staring at the picture frames on the wall with awe but Sam noticed your action and nodded.

Leaving them inside, you walked back the way you came.

“We’ve only been out for a couple of hours. Is everything okay?” You asked the young boy. You weren’t the biggest fan of leaving him in the bunker alone and, if this case hadn’t been so bizarre, you would have stayed with the nephilim.

The only thing that kept you from constant worry was that Jack had voluntarily agreed to keeping you in the loop – texting when he left the bunker and when he got to town - he even sent photos of flowers and the ice-cream selection at the parlour.

“I’m fine.” Jack answered, glancing over his shoulder at the distracted teenagers on their phones. “Actually, I met a group of kids and they invited me to hang out with them.”

You couldn’t help but frown a little. Jack was still at risk outside of the bunker.

“Do I know any of these kids?” You asked.

“I think so - they said that you, Dean and Sam saved them from the ghost of a clown a few weeks ago.”

Ah, so it was the teenaged trio who stole Dean’s car that Jack had bumped into.

You had reached the car and opened the backseat door, leaning in and pulling out the second duffle. “And where will you be hanging out?”

Jack realised that if he told you about the exact location that you’d be worried so he took it on himself to alter the information.

“It’s not too far from Main Street.” He lied, feeling his stomach twist a little, and noticed that you went quiet over the phone as you thought about it.

“They’ve all asked their parents for permission.” He added quickly. “I figured that I’d ask mine.”

You locked the car up, leaning against the black paint as you considered the options.

If you agreed, then Jack would be able to interact with humans naturally but he’d risk his safety. If you kept him from going then Jack would be safe but it could easily spark a rebellious flame in him or have him believe that he was to be locked away in the bunker.

“And you didn’t call Dean or Sam about this because...?”

“Because I know that they would say no.” Jack told you instantly.

He wasn’t wrong. If he had called either one - or even Castiel - they would vote against him going out.

You sighed and started walking back to the motel. “Okay, you can go but-“

“Yes!”

“-you have to promise me that you’ll be back home by sundown.” You could just imagine the grin on the boys face.

“I will, I promise!” Jack told you. The joy in his voice was hard to hide. “Thank you, (Y/n).”

You smiled back, “You’re welcome. Now go have fun and be safe.”

You hung up the call just as you entered the motel again and found that your co-hunters had started to set themselves up. Dean polished the weapons on the bed with a few papers laid out in front of him and Sam had taken the entirety of the living room where lore books, police reports and his laptop were scattered.

“You’re back.” Sam noted as he looked up. “I could use your help on these.”

You dropped the duffle on the floor and rolled back your shoulder a few times to relieve the dull ache. Then you moved across the floor and joined Sam, catching Dean’s attention.

“What did the kid want?” He wondered.

“Oh, he was just asking if he could buy some extra boxes of Crunch Cookie Crunch.” You answered. 

Lying to the brothers made your stomach turn but, in an effort to protect Jack while giving him a normal life, it had to be done.

Masterlist here

[jtrbluv]

hell-ish | pjm

summary: can be read as a separate oneshot or a continuation of ‘we’re not really strangers’“

“But do you remember when we went on a field trip to that amusement park in 8th grade? Around halloween time? … Yeah, I think that’s the moment I pretty much fell in love with you.“

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, humor, establisedrelationship!au

word count: 7.7k+

warnings: profanity (they are beyond terrified), inaccurate depictions of amusement park shenanigans, neurotic clowns (but they’re acting)

A/N: IM SO SRY ITS LITERALLY NOT EVEN HALLOWEEN ANYMORE GOODBYE DD; in my defense they typically have these typa things open after halloween ends... miss rona just isn’t allowing it this year ofc ;w; a special thanks to @viopera​ , @koushiningg​, and @bangtans-peaceful-piegon​ for letting me use their likeness, i love u all. and i hope you enjoy this late halloween fic right before thanksgiving break!

The car rolls to a smooth stop. The man in the driver’s seat puts the car into park—turning towards you while placing a reassuring hand on your thigh.

“Hey,” he says, a small close-lipped grin painting across his features, “you excited?”

You reposition in your seat so you can face him, or more specifically, your best-friend-turned-lover—the sight of him smiling causes you to elicit one of your own, your nerves slightly subsiding.

“I am actually,” you admit, “how long has it been? Six? Seven years?”

“Around there I think, but we should probably get going. The lines are probably going to be stupid long like always,” he suggests, his hand leaving your thigh only to ruffle the hair on top of your head, "Here's to new memories Y/N."

You step out onto the pavement—the crisp, cold night air nipping at your cheeks and nose. The cooler temperature serving as a reminder that winter was yet to come and autumn was about to come to a close. You form an O-shape with your mouth, exhaling sharply and seeing your own breath swirling and blending into the air around you.

Footsteps approach you from the side as you shut the car door. Your head whips around to see Jimin walking towards you with a dopey grin plastered on his face. In response, your eyes playfully loll back, a stream of air huffing out of your nose.

You shift your focus back towards in front of you, eyeing the roller coaster that intimidatingly loomed beyond the fence of the park, the drop tower that appeared just as high, and the other neighboring attractions that towered significantly enough to be seen from afar. The whole stretch of the park emitted a red glow, from what you could assume was from the large-scale lighting and technology that was spread out across the expanse.

A soft hand slides its way from your forearm down to your palm, intertwining all in one smooth motion. It was warm and comforting much unlike your frozen, almost entirely numb ones.

“Someone’s a little cold aren’t they,” he teases, using his other hand to attempt to rub more warmth into yours.

“You know my hands are chronically cold,” you pointedly whine, causing small clouds of air to shoot out of his mouth and nose due to his laughter.

He locks the car and you two begin making your way towards the entrance—from what seemed like a mile, in reality, was only a block away. There was practically no gap in between the two of you the entire time, taking advantage of each other’s body heat amidst the numbingly cold weather.

The wait wasn't too shabby, but you knew it was because time always seemed to pass by so much faster when you were with him, most of the pastime consisting of talking about how your past week has been, the fuckton of assignments you two had gotten, and the dangerously high intakes of caffeine you two had consumed as per usual.

The conversation ceased after a while, and it was just the two of you pressed side to side in comfortable silence, hands still intertwined. It was interesting to see such a vast variety of ages all around you—the most common age range were teenagers or people of the same age as the two of you, which wasn’t a surprise. After getting past the ticket booth and security check, you

two finally make it inside.

The first thing you notice is the large, antique carousel that hadn’t changed in the tiniest bit since the last time you were here.

The meticulously decorated entrance—brought to life by the fire torches, heavy-duty fog machines that didn't allow one to see after 10 feet ahead of them, bright lights that were replaced by either no lights at all or a faint red tint, and just the whole ambiance—had greatly juxtaposed the simplicity and familiarity of the carousel that stood in the eye of it all.

The heat of the fire torches allow you to regain some warmth back into your body—you create a small gap in between you and Jimin, in which he pouts and lifts your intertwined hands up to his face, pressing a kiss into the back of your hand.

“So, where do you wanna go first?” He asks, swinging your arm back and forth after passing through the gates.

“I’m fine with whatever,” you enunciate a bit loudly, the usual noises of amusement park shenanigans hindering your hearing.

“You sure about that?”

You click your tongue, “Jimin please, I’m a college student now, not a puny 8th grader anymore,” you argue, watching him turn away as he tries to stifle his laughter, “I swear!”

“Alright! Alright! I’ll believe you,” he eventually caves, frantically waving his hand to dismiss your concerns, “But I won’t believe you until I see it.”

“Oh, so we’re gonna play that game huh,” you retort, brows furrowing as a smirk creeps across your face, “Alright, so what do you think about riding that?” You ask innocently, motioning up towards the drop tower that forced one to crane their neck all the way back just to see the top.

You break your focus as you look back down and turn towards him to gauge his reaction. His jaw dropping down to his knees—eyes widened in complete bafflement and horror.

“Y/N. I am literally going to fucking die if I ride that shit. Oh my god.”

“What do you mean? It’s totally safe! I’ve been on it so many times.” You attempt to console him, knowing it’s futile because of the piercing glare he gives you right after you say that.

“And that’s supposed to make it better how?!"

You soothingly rub the back of his hand in an attempt to ease his nerves, “Of course I won’t push you if you don’t want to, you know.”

He sighs, “Well, now you’re just making me sound like a puny 8th grader.”

“I can assure you that you very much, are not Chim.” And he smirks at that, tightening his grip on your hand, making you wish that you didn't give him that ego boost in the first place because he surely didn’t need any more of that.

You take some time to mull over your options, but instead, go with whatever your gut feeling was initially leaning towards, “Okay, so what if every time you take me to a house, I have to take you on a ride. You get to choose the house and I get to choose the ride.”

He nods in acknowledgment, “I’m listening.”

“Does that sound valid?” You inquire.

He bites on his bottom lip, taking a moment to quickly cogitate between the options you had given him, and at last, he nods, "It sounds like a win-win."

"Or a lose-lose." You chuckle, and he mirrors.

He shakes his head, “I know you like rollercoasters and all that scary shit, but there’s also a ton of stuff that they’ve added since we’ve last been here.” He replies, thinking out loud, while making you feel more content with your decision, “You got a deal ma’am.” He affirms at last—releasing his grip to offer you his hand to seal the deal, in which you confirm resolutely by shaking it.

Just like he said, the amusement park most definitely stepped up their game ever since you both were middle schoolers, navigating the large expanse with a bunch of other measly and equally puny peers.

The deeper you two make your way into the park, the more themed attractions lined the path. At this point, you could barely make out the bottom half of your legs due to the thickness of the fog. Actors were running around left and right—faces decorated with FX makeup that you could barely discern because of the dim lighting—effectively scaring others, clear by the amount of ear-splitting shrieks you've heard in the past ten minutes that was enough to make your eardrums burst.

Jimin takes note of your slight tenseness. He wasn't oblivious and he knew that you were trying to feign nonchalance—but the razor-tight grip on his hand and lack of chatter on your end was saying otherwise. But just like everything you do, he thought it was cute anyway.

He promptly squeezes your hand, making you turn to face him, "Do you want the first pick?"

You hum, "You can have it if you want."

"Are you sure?"

"Yess," you drag out exasperatedly, "how many times do I have to tell you that I'll be perf– !" You abruptly halt as a zombie (that very much isn't real is what you keep reminding yourself) whizzes past you, brushing against your shoulder and making you jump and trip over your own two feet.

The man beside you is quick to react—leaping in front of you with his arms out so you could fall into his grasp. And you do, gripping his arms to better steady yourself and stand up. As you attempt to straighten yourself out, your head sinks into his chest, laughter erupting out of the two of you to the point where his knees almost give out.

You detach yourself from his chest, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes from laughing so goddamn much. Finally regaining your poise, you immediately slip your fingers back in between his. He cards a hand through his locks with his remaining hand while taking deep breaths.

While tugging him away from where you two were standing to avoid another ruckus... granted that you were at a haunted amusement park, you shout into foggy air, "I'm fine, I'll be fine Jimin! Let's go!", hoping that maybe if you spoke it out into the world, you could manifest it into being true.

Well, weren’t you wrong.

-

A rare and near impossible feat is what you were able to accomplish: forcing Jimin to make a decision. Despite him already being a trademark libra, you always believed that one of his most standout and consistent libra-esque traits was the fact that he was so indecisive. To which had resulted in him forcing you to make decisions instead of him most of the time, whether they had been trivial or not.

The moment you realized that this "feat" wasn’t much of a feat, after all, was when you two had finally reached the entrance of the first haunted attraction he had chosen, his impulsive and most likely ulterior-motivated driven decision causing you to retract all preceding moments in which where you were being stubborn and indignant in him making the first pick.

Just your luck, his explanation behind his decision (and your almost near-death experience) is that he says and you quote, “Start off with a bang! We get the worst over with now so it’s all smooth sailing for the rest of the night. Trust me.”

For some context, you had a very  rational fear of clowns. The year of 2016 was already bad enough as it was—a time in which you had gotten out of your first serious relationship, afterward giving yourself the most horrendous haircut in your entire life because you were emotionally strung and the scissors… well they just happened to be within an arm’s reach.

Later on in said year when you had become a junior and assignments had been piling up higher and higher without any shits given whatsoever, your minuscule fear of clowns had been blown out of all proportions—ultimately fueled by the number of clown sightings around your town and one altercation that you still think about until this day. Four years later, you can still vividly recall the time where you were coming home after studying all day at the local library and on the other side of the street, you had spotted a clown—feet planted to the cement sidewalk, body immobile besides their head that would keep its focus on you as you continuously made your way down the street. As you began to quicken up your pace, the clown began to reciprocate your actions from across the way, and you came to the conclusion that you didn’t really wanna die that night so you sprinted the entire rest of the way home.

And here you two were, at the front of the line standing behind the black curtain entrance—next to a rugged wood sign with the words, CLOWNEUROTICS, inscribed with a dripping, rich red liquid which you surmise was fake blood and not Kool-Aid.

“I cannot believe I let you have the first pick and you do this to me” You quip, chewing the chapped skin of your lips, breath shallow and bated.

“Y/N, you’ll be just fine. I’ll be here right beside you, remember?” he assures you once more, giving you another tight squeeze on your hand.

The curtains swish open, the employee in a simple all-black ensemble motioning the two of you to come inside. You close your eyes, taking one deep and steady inhale before stepping in.

You can barely make out your surroundings, let alone Jimin, who was standing right beside you. The worker’s voice hollers over the deafening noises of the tent. “Follow the path, don’t go backwards, or else you'll hold up the line. And you see that green light?” He asks while pointing to the tiny green bulb that was down the hallway in front of you, “Take a right from there.”

Jimin replies, knowing that you’re too fear-stricken to form coherent sentences at the moment, “Alright, thanks.”

The man nods, and Jimin tugs on your hand as he begins to walk forward. You follow closely behind, reminding yourself to take breaths before you flat out lose consciousness.

As you reach the end of the hallway and the green light bulb the man mentioned, Jimin pauses and turns around to stand in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, I know you hate my guts right now, but I’m sorry in advance and just know that I love you, okay? You have full permission to torture me after this.” He reassures with a wide grin.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” you grumble, lips downturned and head hanging low.

You feel his soft lips graze over your cheek, leaving a chaste peck before giving you an airy, irresistible smile that you can’t really help but relent, even though it already feels like your heart is about to implode on itself.

Taking a right, the setting of the attraction comes into periphery. White walls and floors—reminiscent of a hospital, are tainted with blood, a disarray of medical equipment, and severed body parts. You take notice of the vacant hospital beds, sheets crumpled and stained with red. Framed pictures of medical staff were hanging by loose nails, glass shattered, bloody splatters and smears all over the frames, walls, and white tile.

You two reach a doorway, next to one of the hinges was a sign that clearly said, Psychiatric Ward. Well, I guess that explains the neurotics part.

In an attempt to swallow down some of the fear in your throat, you tighten your grip on Jimin’s hand while opting to slither your remaining hand around his bicep.

He takes notice of your actions that were propelled by your increasing fear, and naturally, he can’t help but feel bad, “Hey, you know I’d never let anything happen to you.” He tells you, shaking you out of your slight daze, “You can hold onto me the whole time and stick your head in my shoulder just like you did years ago, I won’t mind,” he teases while booping your nose.

“Alright, let’s just get this over with, please.” You huff out, determined to somehow put on maybe not a brave, but a braver face than what he expects from you.

You manage to fail in a whopping, record-breaking, ten seconds of going inside.

The first jumpscare was so entirely predictable—the thunderous pounds against the wall, the trudging and supposedly neurotic clowns (although clowns are already neurotic enough as they are) had all built up suspense until a head of a clown had shot up from around the corner. Their usual clown features distorted with gashes in their skin and blood dribbling out of the corners of their mouth, clothes ripped and stained. Your entire body violently spasms, a shrill shriek, and an embarrassingly long string of curses leave your lips in a matter of mere seconds.

You don’t even notice the man you’re holding onto folding over in laughter because the clown is still very much still following you even after you turn the corner, but before you can recalibrate and trek forward another clown materializes just sparse inches at your side. Your entire body forcefully jerks back, knocking into Jimin, but the force doesn’t phase him in the slightest as he swiftly brings his arms around your frame to prevent you from falling back.

Next to you, the man’s laughter hasn’t ceased a bit the entire time, and as you quickly dash forward and away from the clowns that you oh-so-wanted to knock a tooth out of, while clinging onto his side, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “Hanging in there?”

“I think I’m gonna murder you before I murder any of these clowns.”

“Noted!” he chimes while playfully bumping his head into yours.

As you two turn another corner, the sight of more clowns banging against vacant windows on either side of you has you wincing, and you could swear you could feel your left eye start to involuntarily twitch. You come to the indubitable realization that amidst dozens of clowns, you are evidently the biggest one here.

The sounds that blaringly elicit from your lips are the nearing equivalent to keyboard smashes with a variety of curse words in between. In short, if you had a swear jar, you’d be practically penniless at this point.

The clowns are quick to take note of your cowardly conduct, using it to their advantage and targeting you specifically—reaching and intruding so eerily close that you’re almost convinced that they’re actually touching you. You cower in their presence, squirming and sinking deeper and deeper into Jimin’s hold as you make your way down the path.

Beads of cold sweat began to assert their own path down your forehead—heart ricocheting against the walls of your chest, straining the cords of your throat because of your never-ending shouts and shrieks of terror upon terror. Your whole body was convulsing and shivering without fault, even when accompanied by the body heat of the man next to you, the harsh lighting of the overhead lights, and the lack of ventilation in this shoddy tent proved to be no match against your bodily functions that were going completely haywire. If you were an Amazon package, you would have a large ‘Caution: Handle With Care’ sign slapped right onto the box.

The pea-sized amount of pride that remains within you is the only thing stopping you from completely losing your shit.

Jimin's laughter—airy and unwavering, tickling the shell of your ear was the only thing keeping you grounded, serving as a constant reminder that at the very least when you might have lost all your pride and composure, you still had him by your side.

Without much forethought, he continues to lay kisses along your temple, clutching you close to his chest and keeping you upright as your knees constantly buckled under the weight of your looming fear, crumbling composure, and the grisly clowns that were most definitely preying on your downfall.

The ten-minute duration—which to you, had felt like a whole lifetime-and-a-half had finally come to a close. Once you were able to discern what you thought was the exit of the tent—the small opening leading to what had looked like signs of civilization, you booked it without hesitation, hastily tugging Jimin with you to the point where he nearly tramples over his own feet and crashes to the floor due to the sheer and sudden force.

You two finally pass through the exit. Feeling as if you had just ran a timed mile in five minutes, your body caves immediately—hunching over, briskly bringing your hands to your knees to support your deteriorating physiological state. The sound of your heavy breathing gets disrupted by Jimin’s laughter. You stand up, straightening yourself out when you realize that other people were starting to make their way towards the exit too, and you two were clearly blocking the way out.

Jimin takes you by the wrist and swiftly pulls you aside as more people start to trickle out of the tent. You two lean against the metal fence, comfortably silent as he lets you catch your breath.

You huff out, taking deep exhales as you speak, "Holy fuck, what even was that?"

"The funniest thing I have ever seen," he shoots back with a smile, slightly breathless as well.

You blink rapidly, body slumping against the fence, still completely cynical and disbelieving in what you had experienced. Biting the inside of your cheek so hard you're pretty sure you left teeth marks, you wipe your sweat with the hem of your sleeve.

"You okay?" he asks softly, closing the gap in between the two of you.

You nod, affirming your composure in hopes that it would solidify it for real. Giving him a smile to ease the nerves you knew he had, you visibly saw his smile widen, and with that, you ruffle his hair, take his hand into your own, and walk a few steps forward before announcing brazenly into the chilly autumn wind,

"Drop zone time."

"Y/N PLEASE—!"

-

"Don't do this, anything else but this please." He pleads, lips jutting out while childishly tugging on your sleeve.

You groan, "Bub, we had a deal."

He presses his lip together, "I know... but just look at that! How does that even look remotely safe enough for one to ride?" He tries to reason with you, staring up at the attraction that he believes should not even be labeled as an 'attraction' in the first place.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head, "If it was that much of a safety hazard, it wouldn't even exist Chim."

"I will never understand why people ride this out of enjoyment and pleasure. This is insane," he says, his eyes trailing to the long line of people behind the two of you.

"It's three seconds, I swear. Three seconds compared to my ten minutes of cussing and wanting to punch a clown in the face is very reasonable in my opinion. You’ll be just fine, I’ll hold your hand the whole time," you add on.

He quietly freezes in place—eyes fixated on the tower, hands leaving the fabric of your sweater. You feel his warm hand come in contact with yours, the back of his hand grazing your knuckles. Lacing your fingers in between his, he meets your eyes, giving you a timid, lopsided grin. A silent affirmation that had said more than words could’ve. I trust you but I’m still scared shitless.

“You guys are next,” the worker announces, opening the gate and gesturing you two to come inside. Jimin’s smile dissipates, face contorting into a look of mortification at the man’s words—eyes widening to the size of what would be considered as utter shock and lips curling into a form of disgust.

Tugging lightly at his hand, he whips his head towards you, waiting to speak until you two have passed the gate, “Y/N, I’m literally gonna piss my pants like I’m not even joking.”

“Jimin!” you say in a hushed yell, “Please don’t, I know your pride is too precious to you for you to annihilate it by pissing on a ride that even kids go on.”

He scoffs, “Okay fine… but we’re getting churros after this.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, smiling at his tone, “Why would I argue against churros?”

“Hello, miss? Come this way, please,” another worker greets, leading the two of you to two vacant spots of the ride where you presume were going to be yours.

You nod, making your way towards the two seats, hearing Jimin splutter incoherent words and sounds from behind your shoulder.

He immediately plops into the innermost spot, refusing to be on the outermost seat that only had one accompanying seat on one side, albeit it truly didn’t matter. And of course, you don’t tell him that.

Smiling at his overt signs of apprehension, you slide into the spot next to him, beginning to put on the seatbelt over your lap.

Drumming his fingers on his knees, he already has his seatbelt buckled and his over-the-shoulder restraints locked and secured into place.

“Ugh, can these things go any tighter! I can still move under here,” he tuts, vigorously trying to push the restraints closer to his body, yet his attempts are proven to be in vain.

“Bub, they still want you to be able to breathe,” you remind him with a small giggle, your head popping out of the U-shaped bar to look over at him—his brows knit in concentration, nose scrunched, lips tucked into his mouth.

In a final attempt, you hear the man beside you take a sharp and deep inhale, only to hear a tiny click emit from the restraint shortly afterward.

He releases his bated breath, only to come to the realization that he can’t extend his stomach all the way forward, the bar forcing it to come short. He splutters, bringing his hand to cover his face while he coughs only to realize that his arm can’t fully reach around the bar to meet his face.

You watch this entire scene unfold out in front of you—wishing you could do something to help the poor guy, but you already knew your attempts would be pointless in the end as your arms are physically incapable of extending that far. You sink back into your seat to make sure he doesn’t see the fact that you were trying so hard not to laugh.

“Jimin, deep breaths, in and out,” you instruct him as the worker starts to make their rounds around the ride, double-checking for seatbelts and secured restraints.

“Y/N, that’s the problem, I can’t.”

“Try scooting back into your seat,” the worker suggests to Jimin, giving him an empathetic smile.

“What do you mean–oh, erm, thank you.”

She nods, shaking Jimin’s restraint a little more energetically to reassure the man of his safety.

As she leaves, he says to you, “Y/N, I can’t believe you convinced me to go on this.”

“Me too, honestly. I’m really proud of you Chim.” You admit, reaching out a hand towards him in which he takes.

“Three seconds, right?” He reiterates.

“Give or take, yeah.”

“Y/N—!”

Your seats suddenly clatter, signaling the start of your long ascent. Jimin’s grip on your hand tightens substantially, causing you to groan out in pain.

He quickly takes note of the noise, loosening his grip ever so slightly, “Oh my god, sor- oh fucking hell, there’s no going back now?!”

You chomp down on your bottom lip before another sound could escape your mouth—his grip on your hand tightening the higher you two go, “No, no you’re fine, it’s okay..”

“HOLY SHIT WHY ARE WE ALREADY THIS HIGH UP?!” He yelps, kicking his feet against the air—people’s heads starting to look as small as ants, the rest of the park coming into view as if you were experiencing it from a drone’s point of view.

“Dumbass, don’t look down!”

“It’s too late–what the hell, why can I see the whole damn city from here?!” He sticks his head out of his restraint, looking up and trying to find the top, “wHen the FUCK does this shit stop please, Y/N, I cAn’T do this?!?!”

“Chim. Breathe. Deep, steady breaths, okay?” You say while audibly taking breaths so he can do the same.

“Okay, okay,” he says, voice cracking but following suit.

After you think that he finally manages to get a grip on himself, you decide to try to take his mind off the situation at hand, “Jimin, look at the view.”

His breath softens as he begins to take in his surroundings. He could see everything. To him, it feels as if he had the city in the palm of his hand. The rollercoasters that reside next to the tower were practically reaching eye-level to him, and despite the lack of color due to the theme of the park, he thought it was mesmerizing anyway. He marvels at the fact that he could even see past the park—catching a glimpse of the cars zooming on the main highway, minute specks of light emitting from the windows of skyscrapers, people living in their own little worlds in each one, And of course, the envy of it all, the night sky—the dark depth littered with a multitude of stars in their own little patterns and worlds of their own as well.

The overhead speakers trumpet, ripping Jimin out of his trance-like state, “Welcome to the drop zone brave newcomers. I hope you’ve had an enjoyable trip on the way up here. And I hope that your descent is just as enjoyable as well. We will be dropping in... “

Jimin heaves out, “Now that’s just plain rude at this point.”

“Ten.”

“Are you okay?”

He scoffs. “What kind of question is that Y/N?!”

“Nine.”

“Jimin, you’ll be just fine,” You reassure for the umpteenth time.

“I swear if this is longer than three seconds–”

“Eight.”

He frantically kicks the air. “Fucking hell! I can’t believe I’m doing this right now, I miss the ground.”

“Seven.”

“We’ll be back down to earth sooner than you think, I’m telling you.”

“Six.”

“Oh my fucking god, oh my fuck–!”

“Five.”

“Oh fuck, holy shit–!”

“Jimin, I’ll be right beside you–”

“Four.”

“–the whole way.”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD?!”

“Thre–!”

Before the countdown can finish, you two plummet, plunging down at great speeds—a feral-sounding squawk leaving Jimin’s lips when it all happens.

He squeezes his eyes shut, refusing to see what was going on—letting go of your hand, he opts to hold onto the other handlebar on the restraint instead. His breath is caught in his throat, the ride is moving so fast that he can’t even produce any noise, let alone move his body.

Just like you have been saying this whole night, the ride ends in a blink of an eye. Or more specifically, three seconds, give or take.

Jimin slumps in his seat—fingers still curled so tightly around the handlebars that his knuckles turn pale.

You stick your head out of your restraint, craning your neck to look at him beside you, “Jimin, it’s done, it’s over.”

“Are you sure?” He mumbles.

“Open your eyes.”

His head slowly rises, eyes remaining shut. Cracking one eye slightly open, he loosens his grip on the handlebars before opening his eyes and letting out a deep sigh of relief.

"That wasn't so bad, right?" You beam, waiting for the restraints to be lifted.

"I wouldn't know, I had my eyes closed the whole time," he shyly admits, lifting the restraint off of him and unbuckling his seatbelt.

You two jump out of your seats, heading towards the gate and bidding the drop tower goodbye, juxtaposing afterthoughts lingering in the air.

"That felt so weird, I don't know if I wasn't able to move or if there wasn't enough time for me to react," he chuckles dryly while twining his hand with yours once again.

You smile, "Probably a little bit of both," you suggest, eyes scanning the park for any signs of a churro stand, "but hey, you survived!"

He smiles at that, teeth out and all, "We both did," he assures earnestly, "and now as an incentive, we are getting churros."

Your eyes light up—the sight of the bright neon sign being the next destination of the night. Jimin notices your sudden reaction, quickly looking in the same direction as you and pinpointing the small churro stand from afar.

To your luck, the line isn't very long—people are most likely preoccupied with the multitude of attractions that are only going to be available for this appropriate time of the year, taking advantage of the opportunity before having to wait for an entire year before getting to experience it all over again. But you and Jimin weren't like most people, and you two strongly believed that churros should be indulged in at any time during any situation. And right now, it was being utilized as a form of consolation, just in the shape of a deep-fried pastry sprinkled with cinnamon sugar.

After obtaining your consolation desserts, you two resume your journey around the park. Too preoccupied indulging in your churro, you’re temporarily able to block out the commotion that was occurring around you, keeping four out of five senses focused on said churro and churro only. 

“You feel better?” You ask, taking a brief moment to dust off all the cinnamon and sugar off the corners of your mouth. 

“Mmhmph,” he incoherently mumbles, after shoving half a churro into his mouth. He abruptly pauses, cheeks puffed up and eyes wide, realizing he can’t talk and instead he nods with a grin as wide as his mouth would allow him to stretch out. 

You giggle at his actions, taking your focus off of him to take another bite. 

A few moments later, when most of your churros noticeably nowhere to be seen, you ask, “Where should we go next?”

He cinches his brows together, “We probably shouldn’t go on anything to extreme, considering we just ate. How about the ferris wheel?” He suggests, pointing to the attraction that was standing in front of the two of you. 

You nod, “You’re right, these workers already go through enough. And we shouldn’t add cleaning vomit to the list.”

He chuckles, “Agreed. Let’s go, the line is pretty short!” He exclaims jubilantly, flashing you a mega-watt grin while pulling you along with him towards the gated entrance. 

Leaning against the gate, you two wait for the round of riders that were currently riding to finish, mindlessly scrolling on your phones to pass the time. 

The gate entrance opens, tearing your focus off of your phone and back to reality. The enormous and dazzling neon wheel that stood boldly enveloped your vision in replacement of your dim and dark-mode setted phone screen, making you blink a few times to adjust to its harsh hues. 

One of the carts comes to a halt, doors releasing as the group of friends inside it begin to grab their belongings and head out. The worker in charge motions you to step inside after they leave, the two of you following suit. When you two become situated and seated, they press a few buttons on their control panel, the doors promptly swinging close. A few brief seconds after, the cart jolts before moving just enough so the other people behind you could board onto the next cart.

The carts reminded you of the teacup ride at Disneyland—built in a circular shape, seats lined around the border with a small gap made for the entrance door, but of course, it was void of steering wheels in the middle. Now that would just be a recipe for disaster, and a solid segue into Jimin vomiting all over you.

He nudges your leg, “It’s so funny to me.”

You turn to him, “What is?”

“Out of all things to do while being here, and we’re riding the ferris wheel,” he beams, a light chuckle leaving his lips, “I don’t know whether to pity us or not.”

“All my pride has left me already and I’m okay with it,” you tut, lips unwillingly curling upward as you replayed the scenes of what had happened earlier at the drop zone, “I wouldn’t talk too much if I were you Mr. ‘I’m gonna piss my pants.” You tease, poking him in the side.

He scoffs, squirming slightly where you poked him, “I am still proud of myself, I didn’t think I was gonna make it up there.”

You turn away, holding in your laughter, “I didn’t think you were either.”

“Hey! Don’t even get me started on you,” he says, nose scrunching and brows furrowing, “those poor clowns were about to get their noses punched in if it wasn’t for me being there. I think your screams and threats were starting to scare them more than they were scaring me.” He fires back, giggles erupting in his throat and interrupting his words.

“I’m not even gonna argue against that. We are so sad,” you say—laughter flaring up in your chest as well, the two of you keeling over so hard the cart begins to swing back and forth.

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Easy there,” Jimin yelps as you two take notice of the movement and immediately cease your actions, hands grabbing the ends of the cart to try to stabilize it. 

Just as your cart has moved up enough for you to start seeing an overhead view of the park, he whips his phone out before saying, “Lemme take a picture of you, the view is so nice here.”

As he whips out his phone, you scoot to the other end of the cart as he brings his phone up to his face and focuses it on you. Naturally, you bring your hand up, hand changing to a trademark peace sign as you flashed a smile for the camera. He brings his phone down many lock screen worthy pictures later, happy with the result evident from the grin etched onto his face. 

“Your turn,” you say, motioning you two switch spots as you take your phone out of your pocket. 

Jimin, infuriatingly photogenic, simply sits while staring off into the distance, jaw on full display as you begin to rapidly snap pictures. Hearing your camera clicks he changes his position—turning towards you as the chilly wind blows through his hair, eyes crinkling and dazzling smile on full display that you can’t help but smile at the familiar yet all too breathtaking sight. 

Placing your phone in your lap, you scoot closer to him—leaning your back against his shoulder, you prop your legs up onto the seats. Turning towards you, he snakes his arms around your waist as his chest comes in contact with your back. You let yourself sink deeper into his grasp, conforming into his body as warmth spreads to your fingertips. Your head lulls back, falling into the space right below his collarbones as you stroke the back of his hands gingerly with the pad of your thumbs. He rests his chin on top of your head, the two of you simply admiring the view below. 

The ride still hasn’t started—people still boarding the ride as the carts momentarily halt and move from time to time. 

Not long after, your cart reaches the very top. 

Head peering over the edge, he turns back, “See, why did we have to go on the drop tower when we could’ve went here instead,” he grumbles, the peak of the tower standing nearly just as tall as the highest point of the ferris wheel to the point where you could stare directly ahead of you without tilting your head.

“Well that takes all the fun out of it,” you tease, making him frown, “Hey! You keep forgetting what you made me go through before that. Don’t think I’ve gotten over it that quickly.”

Looking displeased at your answer, he quirks a brow, “You seemed to be fine when we were riding the tower.”

“What can I say, you make a very good distraction.”

“I think I could say the same for you,” he proposes, “I swear I saw some of those clowns turn away and start laughing every time you threatened them. I was like ‘Yes! That’s my feisty girlfriend!” he cheers, pumping his fists into the air. You cower down in embarrassment, grinning to yourself while trying to swat his arm away. 

“I feel so burned out already though,” you say, head falling back into his chest, “I think it’s ‘cause we’re here at night.” 

“And because you track-starred your way through that entire maze,” he adds.

“That too.”

“I feel it too, we did more walking than anything else to be honest.” He says, which is very much true. The drop tower was all the way on the other side of the park and the churro stand took you guys a whole twenty minutes just to find. 

You hum, “Should we head out after this then?”

He rests his cheek on top of your head, “Yeah, if you want to.”

“I feel bad though, it feels like we just got here,” you admit, chuckling into his arm. 

He shakes his head, hands reaching over to play with the ends of your hair, “Don’t feel bad, I think we’re still hungover because of midterms. And besides, I’m hungry and I don’t wanna eat a ten dollar hotdog after just eating a stale ten dollar churro.”

“Yeah, we can just eat one dollar ramen, we’re still college students above everything.”

And you truly couldn’t argue with that. “Of course.”

Taking your hands off of his, you prop a hand onto the cart to sit yourself up onto the seats. He releases his hold on you, his arms returning back to his sides as the warmth of your body dissipates to his dismay. 

You adjust your sitting position so you could face him—reaching out to take one of his hands into your own. Your eyes bore into his, gazing into the pools of honey that were his irises. The view is slightly obscured as his eyes crinkle.

He smiles, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You don’t even register that he’s speaking to you until he leans in slightly, his features starting to appear bigger as he starts to close the gap between you two. You shake your head once he gets so close in proximity that you could see each crinkle that etches themself on the sides of his eyes each time he grins. 

Your eyes flicker to his lips, taking notice of the action as you quickly revert back to his eyes. He smirks

“Thank you for taking me here,” you say as your eyes intently gaze into his once more, “above all the trepidation we’ve put each other through tonight, at least we’re here together.”

He nods, gratitude evident without him having to utter a single word. It’s as if time is frozen, everything around you stagnant and still, eyes boring into each other because nothing could just quite compare to this. Not even the surreal view of the city or the ability to see all the bustle within the amusement park or even the stars that littered the sky. 

You press your lips against his. Although you initiated the action, the sensation of his lips against yours, regardless of how natural, sends a flurry of shockwaves down your spine. Your body tingles—as if you’re floating and the cart you were sitting on wasn’t even there to support you. 

And he kisses you back. His lips are warm, welcoming, and comforting—like wrapping yourself in your favorite blanket in the comforts of your bed, the indescribable bliss as the fabric consumes your body and runs over your skin. 

Kissing him felt even more blissful than that.

The kiss isn’t fervent, but it’s full of longing. It’s as if he’s communicating to you, through the way his lips mesh against yours, that he plans on making up for all the lost time. Time that could’ve been spent doing things like kissing you, loving you wholeheartedly and unashamedly, was spent pining for each other with the label of being ‘best friends’ standing in the way for far too long. He wants to make up for it just as much as you do. 

He slides his hand under the crevice of your knee, pulling you closer to him as he continues to kiss you. You bring your hand up to his neck, entangling your fingers into his hair as you lightly scratched at the surface of his scalp. 

He kisses you like he’ll never get to again, which isn’t completely false—the fact that you two were so high up in the air to the point where the stars look tangible, basking in each other’s presence and each other’s presence only. 

Frustrated at the abnormal layout of the seating, he hooks his arms under your legs—hoisting you up and placing you in his lap so you were straddling him—incognizant of how the cart was starting to dip due to the unequal distribution of weight. 

The gesture makes you squeak, and you can start to feel him smile against your lips. Before you could do anything else, the cart totters—rocking a few times before moving, signaling that the ferris wheel is finally beginning its journey. 

“Oh fuck—!”

“Oh shit—!”

The two of you immediately detach from each other as you take notice of the unbalance, hurriedly leaping onto opposite sides of the cart while gripping onto the sides for dear life, the cart rocking back and forth at a concerning extent. You sneak glances at each other, your faces painted with the same expression of shock and distress.  

Seconds pass and the cart steadies—laughter instantaneously taking over the two of you.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” he says, a little breathless while his body hunched over his seat.

“Remind me the next time we kiss to check if we’re less than a foot above the ground first,” you tease, playfully swatting his knee.

He grabs your hand, pressing a kiss onto your knuckles before shaking your intertwined hands up in the air—obnoxiously shouting into the frigid autumn wind, “Yes chief!” 

-

-

-

MASTERLIST

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 5)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2276 Warnings: mentions of physical/verbal child abuse

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 4 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

The subway doors opened letting people spill out before the anxious crowd pushed their way in. Some people rush to find the best spot, leaning against the railing of the wall or beside the door that leads to the other cars, others look for a seat or grab a pole to hold on to.

Everyone kept to themselves though there’s a knowing look between a few, in search of the source of the terrible odor that fills the car. Summer may almost be over but the use of deodorant should never, ever stop.

You couldn’t wait to be home, not only to save your nose from further inhaling the awful stench but because you needed to prepare your outfit for the following day. You put in to leave work a few hours early and unbeknownst to Maria it was so you could interview at Metro-General with Ms. Rodriguez.

You needed to make a good impression. The deadline for submitting your internship paperwork was quickly approaching and you really wanted to have everything settled.

When you were finally home you kicked off your shoes and swapped your blouse and skirt for a more comfortable pair of leggings and a loose tank top. Your closet was full of options and you pulled down a few hangers but you couldn’t think straight. Your stomach rumbled with hunger so you decided to make something to eat.

Opening the cabinet you found a value sized box of macaroni and cheese, something you had bought on those few occasions you made something at home for when Steve would come over and knowing his appetite, family sized meals were the most appropriate.

Water began to boil on the stove as you went back to the items hanging off the closet door knob. With food on the horizon you were able to decide on a white striped button down with slim navy trousers and beige heels. Some basic jewelry was set aside, nothing too flashy.

As you poured the macaroni into the boiling water you realized just how much food there was going to be but at least you would have leftovers. Chalky orange powder floated in the air as you mixed the “cheese” in with the cooked pasta, stirring around to ensure everything was properly coated.

Setting the food aside you opened your fridge to grab a drink, debating what would go best with mac and cheese before you heard a knock at your door. Steve was at the gym and even though you were overdue to see Wanda you didn’t think she would just drop in without notice.

Looking through the peephole your heart raced. Bucky.

Unlocking the door you pulled it open and smiled at your unexpected visitor. “Hey neighbor.”

He smiled, quickly taking in your casual appearance. Bucky didn’t know you very well but he did know that you were a busy woman and any chance you took to relax should be thoroughly enjoyed.

“Hey Y/N. Sorry to bother you but…” He brought his hand up with a snap, presenting the match to your missing sock. “I think this belongs to you. I hope it does at least, otherwise it would be weird that I stole a random sock,” he laughed.

You reached forward for the sock, immediately recognizing it as yours. Your face questioned how he found it and Bucky explained it must have been left in the washing machine.

“Aww thanks!”

“You’re welcome. Uhh, well, I’ll let you get back to your evening.”

Bucky took a step to walk towards his door before you called out to stop him. He turned around with surprise written on his face.

“So, I kinda made enough mac and cheese to feed a small army and if I’m being honest with myself I know I’ll wind up heating some up in the middle of the night and definitely regretting it.”

Bucky laughed at your admission which made you smile even wider.

“So what I’m trying to get at here is, are you hungry?”

Bucky hadn’t expected to hear that from you and upon further clarification he certainly didn’t expect you to be inviting him inside your apartment, but he happily did so, following behind you.

He stared at your apartment thinking somehow you had so much more space than he did even though the units were identical. He smiled at the delicate decor around your bedding, the feminine curtain framing your bed with soft lights shining through it. It made your bed seem inviting, like a soft cloud floating amongst the starry night sky.

You lead Bucky to your table, pushing books aside and piling stacks of paper on top of them.

“Your place is cute,” Bucky commented as his head continued to look around and observe things.

Two bowls were brought down as you scooped heaping amounts of the mac and cheese into them, placing one in front of Bucky and the other at the empty spot beside him.

“Uh, I’m not actually sure what drinks go with this,” you admitted, chuckling as you turned back to Bucky.

Opening the refrigerator again you called out what you had and Bucky accepted a beer and you snapped open a White Claw and took a sip. He eyed you suspiciously and smirked.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you joked.

Bucky ran his fork through the food, biting his lips to hold back an even bigger smile. “Like what?” he not-so-innocently asked.

“It’s the same look Steve gives me. I know they’re trendy but they’re actually really good!” you defended, taking a forkful of the still steaming macaroni.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“Steve?! No, he’s just a really good friend.”

“Oh I just assumed since I know he’s here a lot.”

Your face twisted in confusion, worrying for a moment about the person you let into your apartment until Bucky eased your mind with the words you once told him, “thin walls.”

“Right.” You were partially relieved that your neighbor was not a creepy stalker, but you hoped you hadn’t heard all the times you were venting about him.

“Steve comes over to hang out and watch movies and stuff.”

“Oh, Netflix and chill? Do people still say that?” he wondered out loud.

“I don’t think they do,” you laughed. “Why, you jealous?”

You didn’t believe the words spoken had come out of your mouth. Where that brazen flirtation came from you don’t think you’ll ever know.

Bucky was just as caught off guard, swallowing his food at the same time unexpected nerves bubbled to the surface. “No…” he began.

“I’m just kidding. You don’t seem like the jealous type, especially with your, uh, frequent visitors.” Somehow things didn’t seem as awkward as the last time you brought the subject up.

“Yeah I’m not really a relationship guy,” he said confidently.

You found yourself explaining Steve’s situation with Lillian and how he needed a friend to take his mind off the pain. “I can’t blame him, having your trust broken like that is awful. He’s not ready to get back out there yet.”

Visible dark hair was speckled under his chin as Bucky tipped his head back to take a swig of the bottle. The bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed mesmerized your eyes, as did the single swipe of his tongue across his plump lips to lick away the excess liquid.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Me? I couldn’t tell you what a relationship was if it hit me in the face.”

Lazily you swirled the fork around your food. “I’ve been so busy with school the last few years and working full time on top of it. It’s rare that I meet someone new, let alone devote any time to them.”

You explained the history of your living situation to Bucky and the reason behind all those nights you’ve spent studying at The Grind House.

“That’s definitely stressful,” he let out a sigh. “So why social work?”

Sometimes people know what they want to be from a young age. If they really like animals they might become veterinarians or zoologists. Some people have a knack for science, some for teaching, others for law. Bucky has clearly loved music even before he realized he could make a career of it.

Things were always different for you. There was never a clear choice. You had hobbies but nothing ever stood out and even as you grew older and your interests changed there was still never a distinct path of where you wanted to take your life, not until everything you thought you knew about your best friend had been a lie.

You took a moment to collect yourself before opening up. Throughout your first year of middle school you were seated next to Pietro Maximoff, a friendly, quick witted class clown that made each day brighter.

Pietro’s twin Wanda was separated into a different class but you all shared the same lunch period and became friends. You were never allowed to go to the Maximoff’s house and you didn’t question it too much. You didn’t mind when Wanda hung out in your room after school but she was always in a rush to get home before dinner, before her father got home from work.

It wasn’t until high school that you learned about Django Maximoff and the violence he inflicted on his children. His drinking had always been out of control but he managed it until one day when he was driving and he nearly hit another car. Pietro was worried and questioned if his father was alright, his concerns were answered with a rough fist.

As his drinking increased so did the physical abuse which he enforced over anything. If Pietro ate too quickly Django smacked his head and told him to slow down. If Wanda ate too slow he would kick her shins with heavy boots under the table and tell her to not chew her food like a cow.

Their mother Marya sported bruises that matched her children as Django didn’t hold back with her either. He blamed her and the kids for all the problems they were having. If bills were too high it was because the kids watched too much TV. That problem was solved quickly one night when he threw Pietro into it.

He got the worst of the abuse, often protecting Wanda when he could, telling her to hide in a closet or under the bed as he took each whip of the belt and every spiteful word that spewed from Django’s evil tongue.

Marya wanted to leave Django but he threatened to kill the children in front of her if she tried, he told Wanda and Pietro the same thing and so the family were hostages in their own home, left to keep their painful truth a secret for as long as they could.

You hated the days of Pietro’s absence, selfishly missing the way your friend could always make you laugh when unbeknownst to you he was at home recovering from an injury that was too great to hide at school.

A drunken crash finally removed Django from their lives but the damage was done. Left with large debts and little money Marya struggled to keep a roof over their heads.

Sometimes people do the wrong thing for the right reasons. By the time you were in high school Pietro dropped out and got involved with some bad people. The gang he was with gave him the opportunity to help provide for his mother and Wanda but they protested. Marya was looking into moving somewhere else, declare bankruptcy and start over, start fresh but it was too late.

“Pietro died.” Your voice cracked as the pain of bringing up the memories flooded your heart. “There was a shooting with a rival gang. Piet didn’t even have a gun but he ran out in the middle of everything to protect some kid from the crossfire.”

Bucky noticed the tears that brimmed over your eyes. You took another sip from the can, hoping that as you tipped your head back the tears would retreat. You really didn’t want to cry and make things awkward.

With another deep inhale you continued, “Pietro was robbed of his childhood and nobody did anything to protect him. It always stuck with me, I think about the signs looking back. There should have been someone there to help them, to intervene when they were growing up maybe, just maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

A tear managed to slip out but you wiped it away quickly. You didn’t have to say anymore, Bucky understood why. Every long day at work followed by a longer night of school, every minute you spent devoted to your studies, all of it was worth it to bring you closer to the promise you made yourself, helping the Pietro’s of the world that needed a hand to pull them from the darkness.

Dinner was finished shortly after and Bucky offered to help clean up but you declined. Bringing up the past made you long for a good, deep cry, one you didn’t really want to do in front of your new neighbor.

Bucky lingered at the door before leaving, acting on the thoughts he quickly processed in his mind. He leaned in to hug you, quickly because he wasn’t quite sure if you would be okay with that but firm enough to offer emotional support after you opened up to him. You nearly cried again as you felt his strong hold against you but thankfully you held out, letting the tears slip out after the door shut behind him. Bucky wasn’t so bad after all. 

PART 6

[hoodoo12]

The Ties That Bind (And How to Follow Them) 5/?

@bunnys-beetlejuice-blog @werwulfy @turtlepated @infptarius @mel-time @fireflower1015 @go-whovian-universe @sweetcat-666 @strange-n-unbluusual @monsterlovinghours @rainingpaint @genderless-cryptid @heresathreebee

SFW. A simple solution is suggested. Family is mentioned and summarily dismissed. Name calling.

She’d stuffed him haphazardly into her jacket pocket, but Beej didn’t complain. If Pate had slipped her mirror into her purse, he probably wouldn’t have been able to hear what she told the cops.

Listening to her talk about Lillian being her mentor (not a lie) and calling her so late because she had a bad dream that she hoped the older woman could help her with (partial lie that would be backed up by phone records), then coming over at Lillian’s request (total lie, but couldn’t be proved otherwise) to talk about things, then scaling the fire escape because the door was supposed to be unlocked and wasn’t, Beetlejuice was inordinately proud of the easy way Pate wove fact and fiction together. He was a good bad influence.

He worried a little about a question asking why she didn’t try to call Lillian again once she arrived, but it never came. The officers took her statement with little request for more. She even volunteered to show them her dream journal, allowing them to skim through it, adding weight to her words of continued nightmares.

Pate sat in the driver’s seat of her car, the door open, watching the ambulance pull away from the curb, lights flashing but no siren. She’d already given her statement to the responding police officer and was informed that she could leave. The EMS said it was probably a heart attack, but something about that explanation simply didn’t sit right with her.

Either way, there was nothing more to be done but go back home.

She’d driven home after it was all said and done and now she looked small in the blanket she’d pulled around herself on the couch. Beetlejuice wished he could be beside her, snuggled into her warmth, but he was still stuck in this goddamn mirror.

Dawn found her sitting on her living room floor, the mirror propped up on her coffee table so she and Beetlejuice could see each other, sharing a forlorn look.

They had run out of options, and Pate had no idea what sort of trick or spell or whatever Lillian had used in order to try and undo it herself. An idea had come to her that she had kept to herself, feeling certain of what Beetlejuice’s response would be. But now, with their one other avenue no longer available to them, perhaps he would surprise her.

“I was thinking, Bug,” she began tentatively. “You might not like it, but we do know someone else who might be able to get you out.”

She briefly averted her eyes and sucked in a breath, sighing out the words on the exhale.

“Your brother.”

When she sighed and ran her hands over her face, he knew her well enough to recognize the set of her jaw. She’d put some serious thought into something and was ready to share it with him. Like when she told him no to converting the bathtub to a pond for piranha or yes, she was okay with him occasionally ‘borrowing’ her underwear.

What came out of her mouth was a bomb that he was completely unprepared for.

She didn’t say his name. She didn’t have to say his name. Bile instantly rose in his throat and he imagined his dull hair shot through with red as she mentioned asking his brother for assistance.

“No! No! Absolutely not!” he shouted impotently in the soundproofing he was trapped in.

In case she couldn’t read his lips or his agitation, he tried to fog the glass so he could write it out. No dice. There was no difference in temperature between him and the glass, apparently, so no condensation. In frustrated anger, Beetlejuice spit directly on the glass and used a fingertip to make a large “NO!”. It was backwards for her, so he wrote it again with the letters facing Pate correctly, in case she couldn’t figure it out.

Growing more agitated because he truly could do nothing to stop her from going ahead with her plan, Beetlejuice ground his teeth and pulled his hair. No Rigel! No Bellatrix! No Saiph! Oh sweet god, nobody from his family! He’d rather be trapped here than owe any of them anything. He couldn’t do anything to protect Pate from in here, and there was no way Rigel or any of the others would hold true to a word of helping them out.

A thin keening whine escaped him. He didn’t know what to do to make her understand.

Beetlejuice responded precisely the way she expected he would: with abject rejection of the whole idea. Pate threw up her hands in surrender as he drew an outright denial in his own spit inside the mirror.

“Yeah, that’s about what I thought you’d say,” she admitted, leaning forward with a sigh and resting her chin on the edge of the table. “But I don’t know what else to do to get you outta there.”

Pate watched the flaming red of his hair gradually simmer down as his temper cooled, wracking her brains to figure out some alternative to demonic assistance that he was so stridently against.

She had none of Lillian’s tools, much less her expertise and experience, no idea how to go about reversing what had been done. And something about Lillian’s sudden death still nagged at the back of her mind, and she caught herself speculating that it couldn’t have been natural. But then that was ridiculous, of course it was natural. People died of heart failure all the time.

Ugh, focus! She told herself impatiently. How do I get my demon boyfriend out of this mirror? Come on, think!

With no Lillian there to explain or offer guidance, no knowledgeable supernatural assistance and Beetlejuice unable to offer any insight that didn’t involve charades, Pate sat in the silence and thought.

And then it came to her, like a bolt from the blue.

She straightened, not quite looking at Beetlejuice in the mirror, still formulating in her head to see if the logic of it worked out. As far as she could tell, it seemed like a solid strategy. Beetlejuice had first entered her life and her world when she said his name three times. Now that he was no longer in her world technically, maybe saying his name three times would bring him back to it.

“Bug, I think I have another idea,” she said, relaying the thought to him to see what he made of it.

It was comforting that she let her train of thought derail at his insistence. Beej gave a sigh of relief. He pressed his hand against his side of the glass, found it slick with spit, and wiped his palm on his trousers before putting it there again, wishing he could touch her.

Pate’s open hand was large compared to his, but it being somewhat against him made him as happy as he could be, stuck here. She was quiet in thought again, looking increasingly tired.

She jumped as if startled, her eyes wide. Beetlejuice couldn’t hear anything that may have done it, so he cocked his head in pantomime confusion.

Breathlessly, Pate told him her next idea, and waited expectantly for his thoughts on it.

"Baby . . ." he began. It was difficult to break the habit of talking to her.

The concept was intriguing. He was bound to his name, and her suggestion just might be enough, have enough power, to yank him to her side despite whatever spell Lillian had cast. A hastily concocted binding couldn’t be as tight as what tethered him to his name.

Beej shrugged with a smile, feeling suspiciously like he’d been trapped here like a puppet or a clown.

"Yes. Try it baby," he said, just to help break that bug under glass--haha, wasn't he the comedian!--feeling. He raised his voice, even though that didn't help. "I can't wait to kiss you!"

With Beetlejuice’s affirmation of the plan, Pate got to her feet and stood in the middle of the living room with the mirror held out at arm’s length. In her head, she hoped it would give him plenty of room to appear. He looked eagerly out at her from the glass, both hands pressed against the inside of the mirror. Flashing him a grin, Pate steadied herself and took a breath.

“Bheteljuz . . . Bheteljuz . . . Bheteljuz!”

Pate stood alone in her living room, holding the mirror that was now empty but for her own reflection. A thin crack had split the glass all the way across, but she wasn’t troubled by that. What was troubling was the fact that Beetlejuice had failed to reappear.

She gave him another minute, in case it took longer because he’d been stuck in the mirror, but as the minutes wore on she began to fret that something had gone wrong.

Had she performed the summoning incorrectly? She’d been very careful to pronounce his name just the way she was supposed to, she’d said it three times for sure, and he certainly wasn’t in the mirror anymore. What could have happened?

After thinking for a bit she remembered the other caveat of his name: three times to summon, three times again to banish. What if she’d banished him by accident?

Cursing to herself, Pate set down the broken mirror and quickly recited his name three more times, preparing her apology for sending him away, more than ready to feel his arms around her after this strange and upsetting day. Seconds ticked by, but still the grinning ghost did not reappear. Was he angry with her for the banishment?

Her pulse picking up at the growing sense of foreboding balling tightly in her gut, Pate took a shaky breath and said his name again. But still to no avail.

Something was wrong. She wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she knew it. Beetlejuice wouldn’t stay away unless something was stopping him from coming to her. Increasingly desperate, Pate called his name again, louder this time, as if maybe he just couldn’t hear her.

“Please come back,” she begged the empty air, feeling tears threaten in her burning eyes.

⁂

He gave himself a shake. Ran a hand through his hair. Straightened his tie--then wickedly thought that maybe he should appear back at her side completely nude except for the tie; he never minded a little playful tie-pulling as a precursor to some adult fun, especially from her. Pate was tired, of course, she’d had a long night. That didn’t mean he couldn’t just take care of her.

Kind of a reward for breaking him out, he reasoned. She could just lay back and let him indulge her with his mouth, then when she was sweaty and mostly spent he’d crawl up her body and slip his cock deep inside her--

The typical tingle in his fingertips that accompanied someone saying his name was sharper. It was more like pins being shoved under his nails. The mirror must have amplified the sensation.

The second repeated made the pain worse, shooting it up his arms and legs towards his torso. Beetlejuice gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He could handle this, just one more and he’d be out!

The third recitation doubled him over. No matter! He was free, he was out no more endless white mirror world to be stuck in. No wonder vampires hated them so much. Mirrors sucked.

He’d have expected Pate to say something or grab his hand. She was oddly silent.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Beetlejuice opened his eyes. He didn’t think it was the fog of pain that made nothing seem familiar. This wasn’t Pate’s apartment. This was somewhere else. This was surrounded by people who looked too excited to see him, outside a circle drawn on the floor where he stood.

He was immeasurably glad he hadn’t stripped down to his tie.

tbc . . .

[weidol-ent]

✧･ﾟ:* SEE THE BROODING RAVEN IN FLIGHT !

atlas is the third member of weidol entertainment’s five-member boy group, HARPY CLUB. don't worry, he's not entirely brooding - rather, he simply has a flair for the dramatic. wherever he steps, he causes havoc, whether he intends to or not, but his groupmates love him for it; after all, he keeps things interesting. count your blessings when you see him, for he can either be your greatest boon . . . or your worst omen.

✧･ﾟ:* BASIC INFO !

birth name :: kim seunghwan (김승환).

stage name :: atlas.

representative bird :: raven.

date of birth :: october 27, 1999.

place of birth :: jeju-si, jeju island, south korea.

nationality :: korean.

ethnicity :: korean.

face claim :: choi san.

✧･ﾟ:* CAREER INFO !

company :: yg entertainment (2016-2019), weidol entertainment (since 2019).

occupation :: idol (HARPY CLUB).

years active :: 2019 - present.

position :: lead dancer, main rapper, sub-vocalist.

✧･ﾟ:* SKILL RANKING ! * * idol’s skills (rap, dance, vocals, etcetera) are ranked from best to worst.

dance.

rap.

vocals.

visuals.

charisma.

social media presence.

leadership.

stage presence.

✧･ﾟ:* FUN FACTS !

atlas was the one to suggest the name HARPY CLUB for their group. he's very into mythology, and when the group was given the option to adjust their name, he suggested “ harpy club ” due to the similarities between harpies and the group's concept.

he has two cats at home, named tofu and jelly, whom he loves with all of his heart. he gushes about them to his bandmates and always shows them pictures.

he actually got in a car accident before his audition for yg. none of the people involved were harmed, but remembering it makes him grow anxious on long drives.

he loves coffee, a fact that has come to haunt him in the form of how much money he spends at starbucks. the boy can't help it, he loves his caffeine.

his favourite food is ice cream, but he's not picky with flavours, simply enjoying the texture of it. if he had to choose, though, coconut is his favourite flavour.

atlas is one of the most active members on vlive, besides kyuhyun. he loves communicating with HARPSTRINGS from all over the world! though, they often clown him for holding the camera very close to his face.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Knick Knack Paddy Whack (BAON)

Summary:  As far as Stretch is concerned, there's only one solution when you're addicted to thrift stores. Selling all the crap you bought so you can buy more!

Notes:  Stepping outside of the main storyline for a moment, we'll get back to the aftermath we're all expecting in a moment. 😁

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Domestic Fluff

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch was a bonafide thrift-a-holic, he honestly was, and he knew it. It was an important thing to know about yourself, really, because certain problems arose from bad case of oooh-shiny-itis.

Sure, one ceramic zombie hand thrusting up from the dresser to hold his rings and change was an awesome thing to behold, but an entire collection of zombie hands was a tough sell to the person you were living with, especially if that person was Edge. Not that he’d managed to find a collection of zombie hands and if he had, that thrift store would have been on the weekly check list, for sure. But the same premise applied to ‘zombie hand plus an entire horde of other bizarre ceramics surrounding it’.

Stretch wasn’t bitter about the limitations when it came to his collection, nah, he got it. There were certain things you couldn’t ask for from the person you love, and a house filled up with weird tchotchkes that looked like they belonged to the grandmother of the chainsaw massacre family was a step too far. Plus, asking Edge for more space would be unfair. He’d either agree because he didn’t want to tell Stretch no, or he’d say no and feel bad about it. Nah, the set of porcelain dragons playing instruments in a rock band he’d found wasn’t that important, not if it gave Edge a case of the guilts.

Problem was, Stretch really couldn’t resist sometimes. How was he supposed to turn away a wedding painting of Yoda and Kermit the frog? Or a coffee mug with a penguin orgy on it? He couldn’t, that’s how, but his allotted space was filling up in the house proper and soon he’d started to amass quite the collection in his lab, too. It was when the overflow expanded enough to start infringing on his erlenmeyer flasks that he decided he needed a new strategy. Science waited for no one and definitely not anything with the word ‘taxidermy’ included.

That’s when Stretch came up with the plan. Okay, it wasn’t a plan, exactly, more like a flash in the pants of brief inspiration, but hell, he’d been flying by on those his entire life, why stop now?

One of the places he frequented was an antique mall, which was a fancy way of saying one rung on the ladder above actual thrift store, except they rented stalls for people to sell their stuff, so maybe it was more like a glorified garage sale. People carted in their junk for other people to buy and the cashier up front handled all the transactions. Minimal time, minimal effort, that was exactly what he and his kitsch needed, so Stretch went ahead and rented a stall of his own.

The not-exactly-a-plan worked out pretty well. He could buy something at the thrift shop and proudly display it for a while around the house, and then when it came time to replace it with a new find, he’d add it to his stall and whatever money came from it, he donated to the local kid’s charity that the Antique Mall supported. That meant he got in his kicks and joy without looking like a prequel to a Hoarders episode and Edge only had to deal with the octopus tentacle ashtray for a few weeks.

Seriously, it was a win-win all the way around.

A few things did take up permanent residence, of course; he couldn’t give up his zombie hand. But so long as it wasn’t a clown, (clowns were disposed of by Edge immediately and with great prejudice), he was allowed things like his nested Matryoshka dolls of Nicolas Cages for a time.

About once a week he went down to add new things to his stall, mostly during the weekday hours when the buses were on the empty side and he could take up an extra seat with his box of additions. It wasn’t exactly a secret, Andy came along a few times to help, but he never really mentioned it to Edge. Not until today when Stretch realized he’d let things go a little too long and he had some extra boxes to haul down.

Better to take care of it while he was thinking about it, otherwise it tended to turn into an endless cycle of ‘oh, I should do that today’ and him forgetting, but aside from the extra lugging required, it was also Saturday and the bus would be loaded. Hitching a ride would be required, plus a little extra muscle, and his husband was his favorite source for both.

He found Edge in the kitchen, sitting at their temporary table with his laptop and yeah, it was Saturday, time to drag him away from whatever bullshit work he was doing. Stretch put on his best wheedling face and asked, “babe? can you give me a lift today?”

“Of course.” Edge didn’t look up, what a total waste of Stretch’s beguiling charms. His gloved fingertips were soft against the keyboard as he finished whatever he was typing before glancing up at Stretch, and maybe his schmoozing wasn’t entirely wasted; the way Edge closed the lid on his laptop spoke of a guilty conscious for working on his day off. “Where are we going?”

“downtown,” Stretch tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. “i need to hit up my junk and disorderly shop.”

That got him a pause, “Your what?”

“heh, you’ll see.” Stretch curled a finger at Edge in a ‘come hither’ motion that his husband didn’t follow, only watched suspiciously. “c’mon, i need you to help me carry some stuff.”

“This ride is starting to sound less like transport and more like a chore.” But Edge followed him to the basement for the boxes, and, surprise surprise, his willingness to help went up a few notches from wary to eager when he figured out what Stretch was doing. Eh, couldn’t blame him. At the top of the pile was a plush frog with the top hat that played ‘hello my baby’ whenever you pushed on its foot, something Red did every single time he walked past it, plus anytime he’d felt like shortcutting in for a quick press. Time to let it damage the sanity of another family.

The boxes were tossed into the trunk of Edge’s car, frog and all, and soon they were on the road, heading downtown. Truth be told, Stretch wasn’t sure what Edge would make of the place. He tolerated thrift stores well enough, but the antique mall was a different kind of beast. An entire building of obscure collections cluttered together into eclectic displays that others were trying to barter and sell.

There were stalls filled with milk crates of old records, shelves and shelves of antique glassware and dishes. Some stalls had vintage clothing, feathery boas mixed in with disco pants and ruffled aprons. Old instruments, rusty farm equipment, strange kitchen gadgets that looked more dangerous than useful, this place had everything and then some.

Plus, the mall had a certain sort of smell, a musty, dusty scent verging on decay that settled into the sinuses and hung around for a while. Stretch thought it was the smell of a life well-lived and he kinda liked it; after years of thrifting, he associated it with finding treasures, but who knew if Edge felt the same. His tastes in smells (heh) ran more to clean and green, not old-timey funk. Could be it reminded him of shower mildew.

Whatever his opinion of the odors, Edge kept it to himself. He helped with the box carrying and checked out Stretch’s stall curiously but didn’t say much. Probably recognized the stuff on the shelves as having once been on a table or Stretch’s nightstand, until the glee wore off and it ended up gathering dust in the basement. He wandered off at some point, heading into the depths of the mall, and left Stretch to restock his meagre wares.

It took longer than he’d expected. Since he’d opened up his stall, not everything Stretch found thrifting found its way into the house proper anymore. Some of it he bought as a straight-to-video option and he was getting pretty good at finding interesting doodads at the thrifty places that might sell better here, location, location, location, that was the ticket.

Stretch always priced his junk reasonably, usually not much more than he’d paid for it. Wasn’t like he needed the money, and besides, Stretch knew himself pretty damn well, therapy did that to a guy. At the end of the day, he knew what this was really about; all an elaborate scheme to satisfy the inner packrat in his soul that struggled sometimes with giving things away.

Bartering had been built in him before he could say the word; in the Underground, he’d gotten damn good at getting deals for what he could scrounge at the dump. This was the same thing, really, just with slightly different stakes. Dinner wasn’t riding on his latest stash of dvds anymore, always a plus, and these days he could simply look at the empty shelves, content in the knowledge that his Smeagol cardboard cutout had found a new home.

Hey, therapy wasn’t the only way to work out a few kinks in your internal lines.

When the last box was emptied, Stretch wandered up to the front desk to give the lady who ran the front register his new inventory list. That was when he heard it.

There was an old piano up front with a sign on it that said, ‘Do not ‘play’ if you cannot play’. Most of the time it sat silently but someone up there was giving it a good try today. The notes were slower, with obvious hesitations as the player searched for the correct keys, but the song was one Stretch knew. Gently melancholy, a match to the cautious playing.

His curiosity piqued, Stretch wandered over to watch and he wasn’t entirely surprised to see Edge sitting on the piano bench, his attention on his hands as he slowly played. It was a tough choice between watching him play and simply listening to the song and Stretch found himself trying to do both. The uncertain skill in hands he knew so well as they coaxed the music free.

When the last note faded, a faint smattering of applause came from the different stalls around them. Stretch waited for it to end before sitting on the bench next to Edge.

Quietly, Stretch said, “i didn’t know you played.”

“I don’t,” Edge said. He smoothed a hand over the keys, not pressing down, simply touching them. “Not really. I can’t read music, but I know a song or two by rote. A friend of mine pushed me to memorize them.”

Welp, Stretch didn’t have to ask what friend, now did he. An old friend back in another world, and people weren’t replaceable even if they wore the same face. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to; Stretch understood in a way only a few people could, and he settled a hand on Edge’s leg, squeezing his knee gently.

“that was really good,” Stretch offered, “you have a good memory, babe.”

“Some of my memories are better than others,” Edge said. The words were more contemplative than sorrowful, and he didn’t look at Stretch, only touched the back of his hand briefly with his gloved fingertips. “You tend to feature in the best ones, love.”

He reached for the keys again and started to play. The song was more confident this time, bright and cheery, with only the occasional missed note. A handful of other people drifted over, some pausing to watch and some moving on, going about their day with a song to carry them along.

Stretch only tapped his toes and listened as Edge played, more than willing to let him go on until he was ready to stop. If Edge wanted to take a brief dive into the past, then the antique mall was a place for it, where memories and times past mingled with the present.

Besides, a new memory to take home was better than any knickknack.

-fin

Note:  The first song Edge was playing was 'Clair de Lune' by Debussy and the second was 'The Entertainer' by Scott Joplin. In case you were wondering. 😁

[clockworkgraystairs]

HERE FOR YOU || Jurdan College AU Pt. 2

Warnings: None. Swearing maybe?

Tags: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23​ @aesthetics-11​ @hizqueen4life​ @duarteegreenbriar​ @mysweetvilllain​ @judexcardanxgreenbriar​ @nite0wl29​ @althekingshorses​ @thewickedkings​ @demydreamer-otaku-and-book-lover​ @thesirenwashere​ @b00kworm​ @acourtofmoonlight​ @queen-of-glass​ @random-llama-socks​ @jurdanhell​ @cardan-greenbriar-tcp​ 

[if I forgot to tag anyone or if you want to be tagged let me know!]

Summary: After finding a very ill and feverish Jude, Cardan takes her to the doctor. And deals with her usual stubbornness.

HFY Masterlist      Pt 1   Pt 2   Pt 3   Pt 4 [coming soon] 

AO3 link

My masterlist

Cardan had never liked doctors. When he was a little kid, his mother had to apologize several times because he kept glaring and calling them creepy warlocks, claiming they cured people using potions that stunk and had a sour flavor. And even though he’d got over that phase of his life, the scent of medicine still gave him a slight skittish sensation. 

Now, after nearly an hour of waiting he was definitely not enjoying himself, except that this time he couldn’t quite tell if the feeling was because of the smell or not knowing what the doctor was telling Jude, making his muscles tense more with every minute that passed.

One part of him wished nothing more than yell at her for being so reckless and not seeking for help earlier. 

The other part though, kept thinking about that morning.  

He and Jude had agreed to meet every monday and  friday at 9:00 am to work on their final project. At the beginning their meetings had place at the school’s library, since they didn’t talk much. Not because he didn’t want to, of course. But after years of confronting Jude at class, he’d learn to give her space when she focused on something. And maybe because she was a little scary too. 

Within time, her frowning glares became curious eyes and her monosyllabic answers, full conversations.

By the third month, they had to look for a new place to meet. The library’s manager, tired of scolding them at least six times a day for talking and laughing too loud, had forbid them to enter the building together. Or being together in there at all.  

That’s how they ended up in a coffee shop near the campus. The place was small and cozy. The owner, an old sweet lady called Joanne, prepared the best cappuccinos Cardan had ever tasted. 

That morning though, he hadn’t been able to take a sip of his beverage. The two cups of coffee steaming on the table seem to mock him as he alternated his gaze between them and the door, waiting for her to arrive. His leg bounced uneasily and he felt his hands sweatier than usual.

 He glanced at the clock. 9:20 am. She was already twenty minutes late. Jude was never late. 

From the kitchen, Joanne whistled cheerfully the song that came out from the speakers. An italian song he couldn’t identify. When her eyes crossed Cardan’s she smiled and gave him an encouraging nod. He shifted on his seat, looking down at the small bunch of flowers he’d bought. The white peonies and daisies rested smoothly on the wooden table.  

Damn her. Of all days, she’d chose this one to be late.

When he woke up that morning, he was thoroughly decided to finally come clean. To finally tell Jude he was in love with her.

He sent her another message. Nothing. 

He called her. No answer. Again. 

Had she forgotten? 

Impossible, they met there twice a week. 

The only possible option left in his mind was that she’d remembered. And didn’t care.  

Anger pooled on his stomach. What an idiot he felt now. They had an agreement, imposed by her by the way, of letting the other one know about any inconvenience. Was he really that insignificant for her he didn’t deserve a simple notice? 

Bottle it up, he said to himself.

That’s when he remembered she’d been absent from class those last two days too. Even professor Noggle asked about her, a thing he didn’t do with most of the students. 

Cardan frowned. In a swift move he stood and walked out. 

He left the money for the coffee on the table, and the flowers next to it. 

The door opened, bringing him back to the present. As Jude walked out of the consulting room, he noticed her pallor had decreased. Not enough to relax him, but it was something. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, raising to stand next to her. 

She shrugged. “Better, I told you it was nothing. Let’s go.”

“Ah ah,” The doctor started, closing the door behind him. “That’s not exactly what I said young lady.”

Cardan frowned at her. Seriously? Her only answer was a deep sigh and rolling eyes. 

“My exact words were that it didn’t seem like something too serious or life-threatening. Not that it was nothing.” He took a prescriptions block out of his coat and scrawled something in the front page. Jude groaned.  “It’s most likely a severe stomach flu, aggravated by the days it was left untreated. But since the fever was strong, I’d like to wait and see if it settles now.”

“Most likely?” Cardan repeated, his brows pulled together in a frown. What had he paid this clown for, then? 

“Well it’s always good to scrap any other possibility, I took a blood sample from miss Duarte so I can send it to the lab. But I don’t believe it will show any other result.”

He nodded. “So what now? We just wait?”

“Cardan.” Jude mumbled. He didn’t move his eyes from the doctor.

“Pretty much.” He handed him the prescription. “She got an injection for the temperature already. Here are scripted some pills she’ll need to take for the next three to five days, to help with the nausea. And of course, lots of water and electrolytes.”

“Thank you, I’ll get those right away.” She said as she snatched the paper from Cardan’s hand and put it away. 

“Miss Duarte, I’ll recommend you to stay under observation the next two days. Just in case the fever returns and you need immediate assistance.” 

“Of course.” Jude answered nonchalantly, already reaching for the exit. “I’ll let my sister know so she can come over. Thanks.”

Back on his car he drove in silence. ‘Never let me go’ by Florence + The Machine sounded low on the radio. With closed eyes, Jude leaned towards the open window, her brunette locks flying wildly around her head. 

Cardan glanced sidewards at her, forcing himself not to linger too much on her slightly parted lips. His mind went back to the moment she’d collapsed in his arms. Cheeks flushed and burning up in heat. Even if he never admitted it out loud, she’d scared the hell out of him. 

He pulled his attention back to the road and cleared his throat. “I thought both of your sisters were out of town. Is any of them back? I can call them if you like.”

Jude ignored his question. After a moment of silence she whispered. “Why are you doing this?” 

Cardan shrugged.  “It’s a little bit obvious isn’t it?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “You have our full project on your laptop, Duarte. And it has a password. If you die, then how on earth am I supposed to recover it?”

A punch landed on his arm, followed by a soft chuckle. “Ass. And you don’t need to call anyone. It’s not necessary.”

“Meaning?” Now it was his turn to scowl.

“Meaning,” She sighed. “That I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you already did more than enough. Besides you’re right, my sisters are far far away from here, right where they should.” 

He couldn’t believe his ears. Earning a honk from the car behind them, Cardan pushed the brake, leading the car aside so it could fully stop on the sideway. 

“Hey, calm down Toretto!” She shouted raggedly, grabbing the door handle for support. “What the fuck!?”

“What the fuck? That’s exactly what I’m asking you, Duarte!” Now he could fully turn to face her incredulous stare. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You passed out a couple of hours ago, you were burning up in fever. Do you realize that? Apparently not, because despite the recommendations, you still insist on not listening!” 

An exasperated sigh left his lungs. He grabbed the wheel tighter, trying to ease the growing pool of rage inside him. Calm down. He’d spent his life telling himself to calm down. Being terrible at expressing his feelings, he was used to get irritated every time he faced pain, or fear. Or pretty much anything, actually. But gods, how could she be so stubborn? 

Jude pressed her mouth into a thin line and looked down, her hands twisting faintly on her lap. She was indeed nervous about whatever illness loomed in her body, he noticed, trying to ignore the lips he so badly wanted to tug between his. 

“I’ll stay with you.” The words left his lips before he fully realized it. 

“You what? Don’t be rid-”

“The doctor said you needed to be under supervision.” He answered turning back to the road, and put his car on march again. She was probably giving him some murdering glare that he prefered to elude. “So you have two options sweetheart, either you let me stay at your place or you come back to mine, but a frat house it’s not exactly a place to rest. You are, by no means, staying alone.”

Half a second later, even the radio was muffled by her incessant ranting. Hardly determined to convince him of doing otherwise. 

Cardan just drove.

~

When he parked next to her building the sun was already setting. 

With her arms firmly folded across her chest Jude hadn’t stopped gritting her teeth all the way back. This was madness, she repeated to herself over and over. 

The man showed up out of nowhere, took her to the doctor, paid for her medicine and now wanted to stay in her apartment? No fucking way. 

The problem now, was that if there was anyone on earth even more stubborn than her, it was Cardan. A man that no matter how many times she asked him to just leave her on the sidewalk and leave, was now walking up the stairs next to her. A satisfied grin on his perfect charming face. If she didn’t feel as weak at the moment she’d slapped his way out of the place. 

Once inside she left the medicines and the gatorades on the table and turned to him. 

“For the hundredth time, Cardan. You don’t have to stay, everything is under control and I’m not feveri- what’s that?” She asked, noticing the hanging object on his shoulder.

“A backpack?” 

She rolled her eyes. “I‘m not blind, you ass. What are you doing with that backpack?”

“I always keep some extra clothes in my trunk. You know, in case I find myself in any unexpected situation.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her in a way that twisted her guts. Ugh, disgusting.

The repulse must’ve been written on her face too because he snickered for a second before throwing it next to the couch. “Becoming your hot nurse certainly fits in the category dear, you can’t deny that.” 

She blinked and pushed back the intrusive thoughts that emerged from his statement. Why was her mind against her today? Maybe the fever had burned her coherency brain cells, if she’d ever had any to begin with.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“I know.” Cardan dropped himself on the couch, opening a book he’d taken from his pack. “Now take those pills, put on your weird pijama and go rest.” 

Maybe she could still gather the strength to slap him after all.

Trying to ignore the sour flavor that shitty pills left on her mouth, Jude stood in front of the mirror. Wearing the shorts and the t-shirt she’d put on before they went to the doctor, she found herself suddenly worried by her clothing and messy hair. 

Which was utterly absurd. It wasn’t as if he cared at all about her wardrobe choices.

Still, the idea of them sleeping under the same roof unnerved her. It had been a long time since she’d had someone from the opposite sex staying the night. Either way, her exasperating classmate certainly hadn’t crossed her mind.

She bit her lip.

Ok that was a lie. Being honest she might have thought about it a couple of times. Mostly drunk. She always felt guilty the day after. And pissed. It left her wishing she could hate him again, like she did on sophomore year when he was truly a rude idiot. But no matter how hard she’d tried, his wits and dumb jokes had slowly changed her perspective of him. Not to mention those deep dark eyes and wicked smile of his. It only took a pair of tequila shots to start fantasizing about running her lips along that jaw. FINE, it didn’t take any tequilas to do that. But sober she had a tiny bit of control over her too-creative mind. Drunk Jude had already undressed him in her dreams once. Twice?

And now Cardan was outside, lying down on her comfy couch. Staying the night.

Jude chewed her inner cheek. This was a nightmare. 

As quiet as possible, she opened the door and peered outside. He was nowhere to be seen. Maybe some ancient deity took mercy on her and vanished him to oblivion. That or he was probably in the bathroom, so she tiptoed her way to the modest kitchen. 

She’d just finished preparing her chai tea when the bathroom’s door opened. Decided to ignore him, she kept her gaze down. 

At least until she caught a glimpse of him with the corner of her eyes. That, snapped her attention back. Oh no, no no no no.

“CARDAN GREENBRIAR WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“I...what?” 

“Could you please… I don’t know, maybe put a fucking shirt on?!” She could already feel her blood gathering on her cheeks. 

He paused and quirked an eyebrow. “For your information, Duarte, I tend to sleep naked. These pants are a sign of my consideration to you, since we’re at your place.” 

The goddamn idiot was made of marble. Jude knew he wasn’t precisely one of those big muscular men, not that it meant he didn’t have everything in place. His well formed shoulders and arms were visible even with clothes, and now she could admire the slightly marked muscles of his torso all the way down to the V that disappeared under his pine-green pants. His shoes were off too. 

“Are you blush-” He started, only to be cut by her murderous voice.

“Good night, Cardan.” Taking her cup, she crossed the place with big steps, slamming the bedroom’s door behind her. 

Leaning against the wood, she heard the couch creak as he laid down. Her breathing evened a little a few minutes after. 

Shit, that had been rude. Even if he’d imposed his presence there he was still a guest, her mind scolded her. A really hot guest. No no, don’t think of that now.

As silently as she could she opened the door again. And pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her laugh at what she saw.  

Cardan’s legs hung over the couch’s arm. Which made sense, considering how tall he was, but right now it only looked bloody ridiculous, and kind of adorable. She tried to ignore the guilt that pierced her heart again. He seemed stiff. An idea shone on her mind. A terrible terrible idea.

“Cardan?” She whispered.

He hummed in response.

She swallowed and walked towards him. “You can’t sleep in there.”

He scoffed and looked at her through hooded eyes, dark and deep made her heart skip a beat. “If you’re trying again to convince me to leave…”

“I’m not.” Jude blurted, passing a hand over her curls. Somehow words seemed to stuck in her throat. “I mean- even when you are completely ignoring me about you not needing to be here… I guess I… What I try to say is-”

“Jude Duarte is babbling. Gods, now I’m intrigued.” He breathed, propping himself on his elbows.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head elusively. It was humiliating how easy it was for him to put her on edge. “Shut up will you? You can’t stay on the couch, it’s small and uncomfortable… And I, well, I happen to own a double bed.” 

Smooth, girl, smooth.

“Trying to lure me into your bed? So soon?” He teased, flashing her a smile, yet his joke didn’t reach his eyes. Something in them was different, they were wider, intense.

“You’re intentionally being an asshole.” She said, gritting her teeth. This time his tricky words and good looks wouldn’t affect her. She couldn’t allow it. “I just meant that we can both sleep there. Like, as far away as the bed allows but at least you could rest.”

For a second he just looked at her. Not mocking or rude, she couldn’t place the expression in his face. His jaw set, chest raising and falling slowly. “You don’t have to, Jude. I’m ok in here.”

“Don’t lie. Besides I’d feel better too. Not because- Ugh, I’d feel better knowing that I could at least make your staying more bearable, I guess.” That wasn’t so bad. Yet. And honestly she couldn’t tell if it was worse if he accepted, or refused. 

Back in her room an awkward silence filled the atmosphere as both laid side to side. Somehow, even if they were not touching, Jude could feel the heat of his skin. Her heart hammered so fast she swore he could listen to it.

“So…” He started.

Panic filled her senses, she needed to cut any conversation before saying or doing something she’d regret later. “There’s no need to mention it, just go to sleep… please.” She rolled onto her side, facing away from Cardan. “Good night.”

Jude barely heard him sigh. “Sweet dreams, Jude.”

~

It was hot. Really really hot. Fuck he couldn’t move. How much had he drank last night?

Wait. No, last night he didn’t go out with Locke. He’d said he would spend the weekend with his girlfriend, at least this month’s. Cardan had stopped mocking him for it long ago. 

Eyes still closed, he grimaced and tried to stretch but something held down his arm. As Cardan became more and more aware of his body, the memories of the day before flashed in his mind. The failed meeting with Jude, the flowers he’d spend almost an hour choosing, her body going limp against him, the useless doctor… Jude offering him her bed to sleep.  

That’s when something tickled his neck, startling him. 

No, not something.

Cardan’s eyes snapped open, he looked down and froze when he realized Jude’s body was pressed flush against him, one of her hands resting on his chest. Somehow their legs impossibly tangled. Terrified, he found his own arm encircling her waist, bare skin touching his fingers since her too big shirt had rolled up in her sleep.  

She shifted a little and her nose brushed his neck again, letting out a small breath that sent hot shivers down his body.

Any knowledge of how to move or think completely forgotten. He stared blankly at the ceiling. 

Fuck fuck fuck shit what the fucking fucks. 

[shiberpostshere]

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

20. Chapter Sixteen: Happy Realisation✨ (Meant as a sarcastic remark to the Reader, wishing her Happy Realisation like Happy Birthday)

Previous Part✨      Next Part✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

Word Count: 2.2K (😳)

🌸

The Special Weekly Segment, Weekly Flower Delivery had thoroughly infiltrated your mind with admiration of love and swooning until you remembered that you decided to justify your feelings about Seonghwa, with Seonghwa by talking to Seonghwa.

Oh, Park Seonghwa.

What are you going to say? For starters, you had few options you considered:

1) 'Hey! Crazy story. Remember when I liked you in high school but I think it was childish, so I'd like to know what are your present thoughts about it?'

Fairly normal but quite formal.

2) 'Hello there kind sir. Would you like discussing our past embarassing affairs, mostly the mortifying felony committed by me over a glass of liquor?'

It feels like you're asking for great lord's hand in marriage, one who owns expansive estates in the 1740s.

3) 'Hey, Seonghwa, so you know how we've been spending some time together and I have been thinking about us, together, as in a dating, you know what I mean?'

'You know what I mean?' What are you about to do? Transcend into a rap battle?

At the end, you considered it's best to say what feels appropriate at the given situation.

Hopefully, it's appropriate.

The Dazzling Night group is buzzing excitement of accomplishment after the special segment.

The atmosphere shifting from a rather intimate confession to a declaration of never fading love has successfully set a mood for the team to celebrate the well executed show with chicken and beer by the riverside at midnight.

Yeosang and Mingi leave before the rest and decide to get the food on the way to arrange a seating area for comfortable dinner.

The remaining ride in Seonghwa's car after he frantically arrived at the studio looking fresh and clean.

After a short ten minute ride, you breathe in the gusts of winds, carrying a gentle scent of the river.

The location is a little crowded for the night but might disperse as the clock ticks by.

It isn't difficult to spot the waving figures of Yeosang and Mingi in a quiet corner, keeping a safe distance from other groups for private, mostly chaotic conversations of the group.

Jongho collapses on the mattress within a second of spotting it.

"This is the life of a successful segment planner." He states with a deep inhale.

"Okay bragger, save this for later. I'm hungry." Mingi pushes the boy out of the mattress, rolling him onto the grass but Jongho has no plans of sitting straight.

Yeosang twists open a bottle with fizzle. "We need to make a toast."

The rest of you begin arranging your dinner in front of the widespread, breathtaking view of the river and the brightly lit bridge.

Seonghwa and you begin unpacking the boxes of variety of chicken while Hongjoong pours out drinks for everyone.

"A toast? Why? Are we already done with Dazzling Night for this semester?" Hongjoong comments without looking up.

Yeosang gives him a look. "C'mon, read the mood." He falls back beside Mingi. "Seonghwa loves giving speeches anyway. We love a sentimental mood setter."

You nudge the mentioned boy. "Oh? Then I'm looking forward to it too!"

He plops down and rolls his eyes. "For once can you guys stop ganging up on me?"

Your best friend props up his body lazily, supporting his weight on his arms. "Make a toast, make a toast, make a toast."

You snicker and shake your head at the lack of enthusiasm. "Wow, you surely want him to make a toast."

Hongjoong offers you a small cup of beer. "Okay then, would you like to make a toast instead?"

Taken aback, you study the amount of twinkling eyes settled on you. "Oh, hell no." You thrust the cup at the suggested person.

Seonghwa looks at you with dramatic betrayal written all over his features. "My knight in--" His eyes study your frame, "My knight in jeans and flannel, I thought you'd surely save me."

The entire group bursts out in laughter.

Placing a hand on your hip, you gulp down the contents of the small cup. "Why did the ganging up shift from him" You jab a thumb at innocent looking Seonghwa, "To me?"

Jongho simply shrugs. There's an evident satisfaction displayed in his slackened movements.

You feel comfortable as well.

You're used to, no, you are loving the playful bantering but god forbid, you'll never admit this out loud, especially in front of the teasing devil himself.

"Alright, alright" Seonghwa refills your empty cup and lifts up his big one. "Here's a toast to not even a week into Dazzling Night yet to the most talented group of people making everyone's night, especially each other's by working together and supporting each other. How's that for a sentimental toast?"

All of you raise your plastic cups in unison with a gentle 'cheers' and down the booze in one shot.

Mingi wipes his non existent tears. "Fantastic. I'd like to thank my mother, my father and mostly importantly the baby account I followed on instagram two weeks ago which gives me joy---"

He is unable to finish his speech of 'gratitude' as Yeosang shoves him away with a quick push, making the tall boy almost land sideways on top of sauce pouches.

🌸

Throughout dinner, you simply cannot stop smiling or almost rolling over the grass.

It is truly a wild dinner.

One moment Hongjoong slaps away Yeosang's hand from stealing his well deserved chicken wing and another Jongho suddenly belts out a song to honour the evening, earning loud claps from the people seated nearby.

The conversations begin with Seonghwa and Hongjoong reminiscing their first meeting together, makes it's way through the emotional valley but eventually returns to the clowning station.

Time passes by quickly as you munch over different kinds of delicious chickens melting on your tongue with new flavours everytime you grab one from a different box.

Yeosang takes all the credit for the ten out of ten dinner and all the guys agree with the chicken maniac, as addressed by his friends.

As the night gets darker, people start disappearing slowly and you begin to notice the questionable amount of empty beer bottles lying around.

"I think I'm drunk." Hongjoong presses his temple with a wince.

Yeosang grabs the elder's arm and leans into his shoulder with a pout. "Yeosang wants to eat more chicken."

Jongho breaks into a fit of coughs while Mingi throws back his head, booming with laughter.

"Did he just refer to himself in third person?" Eyes wide, you turn to Seonghwa for an answer.

"Yeosang transforms into a cute little kid when he's drunk, he has a low alcohol tolerance." His cheeks are slightly tinted with the pink colour. You don't know if you should be trusting his tolerance either.

"Oh my god, I should totally make a video." Mingi pulls out his phone but Jongho is quick enough to snatch it.

"You don't want to see tomorrow's sunrise?"

Out of everyone, maybe even you, Jongho appears the most sober, as if he hasn't drank at all.

Hongjoong's hand gently pats the drunk one's back. "C'mon, it's getting late, let's go to the restroom and sober up so we can leave."

Jongho leaves his place with a sigh. "I'm going with those three, I think they need some supervision."

Seonghwa places down his refilled cup. "Good idea. I'll stay back with (y/n) and clean up."

You nod. It is indeed getting late.

The three drunk ones trudge towards the washrooms with a normal walking Jongho following behind.

"Let's clean this up, shall we?" You eye the mess scattered around.

As you try to lift your body with much difficulty, a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you down causing you to yelp.

"But you wanted to talk." You breath hitches for a moment as he turns sideways to place his forehead on your shoulder.

Oh, how you had hoped for him to magically forget about it.

You lift up his head with the support of one finger. "Are you sure you aren't drunk?"

His hands pat his cheeks a few times. "Definitely not drunk." He inches a little closer. "So, tell me."

A chuckle leaves your lips at his attempts to appear sober. "Oh, well, I don't know how to bring this up and I'd rather talk if you will remember this tomorrow as much as I want you to forget."

His shoulders slump. "Oh, (Y/N), is this about our cute little history that you find embarassing."

"What? How did you know that? Wait, who told you---" You blabber out surprised and to deepen the surprise he places a finger on your lips.

"Hey, hey, calm down." His eyes land on the finger and he quickly retrieves it. He clears his throat. "I mean, it is a little obvious. I think it is obvious to everyone but you."

Your cheeks heat up a little at his statement. "Obvious? Okay, since it is that obvious. Yes, yes I am a little embarassed, maybe more than a little embarassed."

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, an intense look in his eyes. "That's not what I meant (Y/N) but tell me what are you embarassed about?"

Gathering your legs closer to your chest, you place your chin in between the knees. "Well, you know" You let your words trail but draw in a deep breath. "I was fifteen and what happened was silly and ever since we started hanging out together, I feel really comfortable with you and you're really nice. Oh my god, I'm getting nowhere with this." Your feet begin moving in a continous motion.

Seonghwa fixes his posture and sits up straight. "(Y/N)?"

"Yeah?" You look up.

"I liked fifteen year old you. A girl who liked me, often encouraged me even though she didn't understand 11th grade struggles but it's not something that I look back at and make fun of but it's a fond memory that there was a cute girl who liked me back when I was young and too tense for a 17 year old boy." His precise answer tugs a string of your heart.

"Yeah, you were too tense for a 17 year old boy. Remember how you often lectured me like you understand all concepts of the world at such an young age." You comment with an playful smile.

A picture of a young Seonghwa passionately explaining time management like a professor pops up in your mind with a young you listening as if he's reciting a romantic poem. Oh, how smitten you were.

Funnily enough, you still are.

Seonghwa pushes his fingers through his hair with a shy smile, eyes focused on the night sky. "Oh my god. I can't believe you remember that."

You bump your shoulder with his. "How can I forget, you were adorable."

A stange energy is brewing within you. This comfort is unmatched.

He turns to you, fingers suddenly grab your cheeks. "Don't get cheeky with me now." He says in an extremely soft voice.

"Hey, this is not fair. What are you doing?" You get a hold on both of his hand to remove them but fail.

He pulls them a little before letting them go, you rub the sore spots. "You're as much as a troublemaker as you were back then, you just hide it now. Don't you?"

Maybe it's the courage supplied by the little alcohol in your system or maybe it's just him, you grab his face with your hands.

His eyes widen at your actions. "What are you doing?"

You gently bump your forehead onto his. "I'm trying to be bold and knocking some sense into you."

The shocked expression subdues into a serious one. One you hadn't expected to see. "I wouldn't suggest that. What if I really end up forgetting what you're about to do next?"

As soon as he speaks those words, you let go of his face and create a safe distance between you two. "What do you mean? I wasn't going to do anything but bump my forehead with yours! What are you thinking!"

He begins stuffing the empty chicken boxes into each other pretending as if you weren't just inches apart a second ago.

"What if I end up bumping my forehead even harder than you did?" He asks with the most false concern present on his face.

You grab the nearest bottle cap and aim it right at his forehead but he's too quick to catch it. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

"YOU stop being cheeky, can't you tell I was trying to flirt with you!" You let both of your hands rest on your hips.

His mouth forms an "O". "I mean, I should definitely do that, I have the right to. It's not like you know that I've been flirting with you all this time."

You freeze for a moment, eyes blinking twice. "You've been flirting with me?"

He throws up his hands in an exasperated gesture.

"Wait, you've been flirting with me? You weren't just having fun making me suffer by being extremely kind and nice yet teasing and--" The long list of conversations run in your mind and then it pings. "Oh."

Seonghwa begins clapping. "Thank you so much for finally noticing."

Your fall down on the support of your knees.

"Oh my god, Park Seonghwa has been flirting with me all this time"

You realise you've said it out loud and wish to sink further into your hands.

"Yes, I have been." His fingers gently ruffle your hair. "Now, clean this up before Jongho comes back and grumbles about it."

You slowly lift up your head and look at him casually collecting the mess, unphased.

"You're not going to let this one die. Are you?" Hesitant, you await an answer.

He chuckles. "Of course not."

"Fantastic." You stand up, unable to shake off the realisation.

🌸

Pairing: College Student! Seonghwa x College Student! Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, A teeny tiny bit of smut with a pinch of angst

Synopsis: High school crushes are often silly and forgotten. However, you cannot forget the one senior, you "borrowed" once a kiss from. Years have passed and it's a memory you laugh at but what will happen if you're to encounter the same senior in a much different setting and situation? Especially during your first year of college.

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A/N: This user is about to lose her sanity because Tumblr does not save her drafts and likes messing with her already remaining braincells. (I edited this once, I'll edit it again tomorrow)

BUT! THOUGHTS? what do we think after reading this chapter?

After writing this I low-key wanna start a written fic he-he.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 💫

🌸Tags:

@enigmaticsal @stardusthyuck @preets-kpop-world @missiopk @rae-woo @sanisms @retrofuture-ism @jiyeons-closet @hongjoongsnoona @seong-hwa1998 @veeeenus4 @mochibabycakes @vhschs @kokoboxp @choisaniskillingme @vantclavs @f-iyan @staywritten @cobbiebaexqueen @uppiespuppy @mingiflower

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