beige chair

joanna--grace  asked:

19 :)

19) I will not be your “sometimes”. This request is from this prompt list.

Masterlist

Your name: Submit What is this?

- - - -

You’ve had no word from him all day. Your boyfriend has been apparently at the studio for the whole day, pouring out his heart into music he’s creating. All you would like is just one text, one call: just a message that lets you know he’s okay, loves you and he will see you soon. But you have nothing and you don’t know how much more of this you can take.

Things haven’t been good between you two lately, and it feels like you are the only one to acknowledge it. Shawn has been your boyfriend for nearly 2 years now, but right now everything feels distant and cold. It feels like you don’t know him anymore, and he’s a changed person with the life he leads now and his career. He can’t see it though, which is the hardest part of it all.

He only wants you sometimes. In times where he wants to feel loved, he comes back and gives you a lot more attention in the hope to get the same back and more. It feels like you’re being used and discarded whenever it pleases him. Apart from that, he is always away from you - and that creates a silence.

You completely understand that he’s busy and your lives couldn’t be more different. What hurts the most is that he only seems to remember you even exist when you call or message him. If you don’t, then an entire day could pass without word from him. Sometimes it feels like an invisibility cloak has been chucked over you, and you’re trapped underneath struggling to be seen.

Keep reading

"Couleur chair" ou le racisme ordinaire

Je viens de me rendre compte d'un autre truc raciste. On appelle souvent le beige, “couleur peau” ou “couleur chair” pour les vêtements etc. Mais c'est que pour les blancs en vrai. Ça insinue que la normalité c'est la peau blanche, encore une fois.
Et il m'a fallu 18 ans pour m'en rendre compte. Société de merde.

how often do you feel hopeless?, december 2016

they’d like me to believe i’m sick
the sicked i am the more they earn
the longer they can keep me confined in their rooms
(rooms of beige walls, soft chairs, and motivational quotes)
but there is nothing notable wrong with me
i am just fine.
i do not “feel hopeless” “more than twice a week”
i do not need your negative labels (but mostly the stigma surrounded by it)
if anything, your absurd tags make me more “hopeless”

anonymous asked:

Bias: Taehyung, Song: Look here. He's doing all he can to get the tsundere slightly introverted girl to accept her own feelings. Smut. Thanks so much and welcome back :)

Look Here

At first, I was only curious as I started to show interest in you…

“Who is that girl?” Taehyung asked no one in particular.

Watching the ember smoldering in a little black dress across the dance floor. Taking in each swing of her hips, each ripple of her hair as she fluttered across the starlit floor. A dancing flame amongst smoldering kindling—the most beautiful blue-black flame he’d ever seen.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, Taehyung,” Yoongi said over the music, swallowing another shot of clear, pungent alcohol that had him wincing as it hit his throat.

“The one in the little black dress—breathtaking smile—.” Taehyung was still hypnotized by the swirling of her hips—the expression of true, undiluted joy spanning each perfect feature on her face.

Yoongi narrowed his brow and pursed his lips, searching for Taehyung’s muse, but came up with nothing. “There are like thirty girls in little black dresses!”

“Ooooh—our little Taehyung is in love,” Hoseok smiled, rolling his shoulders with each drop of bass, looking effortlessly cool at the bar, several girls sneaking forward to dance around his lanky body.

Taehyung would have protested, but just like that, her eyes—so warm, so inviting—were looking at him. And in a puff of cigarette smoke, floating glitter, and flashing light, she was gone. An ethereal dream lost in the city of Seoul. Her light so much brighter than those lining the streets; her small, secretive smile a distant roaring star in the sky, in his mind.

The hole she left behind that night was a near tragedy. He’d never even gotten the glimmering ember’s name.

Next time, he smiled to himself.

Because somehow he knew that their meeting was not a mere coincidence. No, this girl was meant to dance into his life with swinging hips and demure smiles.

~XXX~

Meeting you was what I wanted…

A month went by that way. The flickering, elusive flame swaying in the sea of glittering, leathery bodies before it vanished. Disappearing just as Taehyung moved toward it, snuffed out like candlelight. A game of cat and mouse—a very frustrating game that had Taehyung losing his mind.

He’d memorized the long, sinuous lines of her body. The burning smile of teeth and lips and tongue. The glimmer of her eyes as they caught the iridescent lights. But he’d yet to hear her voice, to hear the way her name rolled off her little pink tongue. Or—and this made the blood rush from his cheeks straight to his groin—the way she purred his name.

She’d been haunting him. His dreams. His thoughts. She was at each corner, each breath-fogged window of the train—even the dark, shadowy corners of his bedroom. Everywhere, she was everywhere.

He’d begun losing hope that he would ever hear the siren’s name. And then, fate cut him a miraculous break: it brought that white-hot flame to the universities library where he’d been studying with Namjoon for the better part of an hour. A grueling, mind-numbing hour of calculus and organic chemistry. Seeing those vivid, breathtaking eyes and small smile was like a rope being thrown into a violent sea, pulling him up, up, up, and—

“Are you listening?” Namjoon waved one long-fingeredg fingered hand in front of Taehyung’s gaping face.

No. “Uh—yeah. I’m gonna—go get another book,” Taehyung’s eyes were focused on the long wooden shelves she’d just disappeared behind. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wha—what the hell Taehyung? We’re in the middle of a lesson—what’re you—?” But, Taehyung was wandering away from the rows of tables and computers in the center of the hushed library, prowling along the edge of the bookshelves near the columns of open windows.

There she was. No mistaking it—it was definitely her. Wearing a crisp ivory button up and pleated skirt, brown loafers shining in the yellowy light of the globes above.

She seems so…different.

Taehyung stalked forward, trying to appear calm, casual, cool, but he couldn’t help the constant sheen of sweat covering his forehead as he caught a whiff of her perfume, or the tremor in his lip as those glowing eyes fell upon him finally.

“Can I help you?” Her voice was cold, flat—dead. A warning growl from a territorial dog.

“Uhh—no, I was just—,” Taehyung was trying to think of an excuse, leaning into the spines of books closest to his shoulder, knocking a few down. He scrambled to pick them up and offered her a sheepish smile as he held one with a pale blue cover over his head. “Ah-ha! Found it!”

“Right.” She held out the word. God, her voice was…sexy. Taehyung gulped. Her eyes lowered back to the pages of her own book, scanning line after line of text.

He was staring, lost in the way her bone-white fingers flipped page after page while he pretended to be enthralled in his own book. But, he couldn’t care less about Catch Twenty-Two right now. Couldn’t have cared about anything in that moment but her, not even if a giant, fiery meteor came crashing into their solar system, plummeting to the earth to incinerate its denizens—not when he was staring at her. Blue-black wildfire blazing in the cold morning light fighting through winter’s fog.

“Are you just going to watch me all day or what?” She snapped her pretty, straight teeth at him.

He gave a start, but laughed—nervously. She was making him anxious, not just her cold hostility, but her smooth, unearthly beautiful skin and those petal shaped lips and those bright, challenging eyes. It was making him jittery, sending blood roaring through his veins, thundering each beat of his heart until it threatened to cleave him in two.

“Sorry,” he murmured, looking down at the printed letters on the page.

She huffed, irritated, annoyed, and began to trudge off toward a vacant alcove of worn chairs. Taehyung stopped her with a hesitant, “W-wait!”

Her spine went rigid, taut like a bowstring. “What?”

“Y-you—you’re the girl from the club aren’t you? From Four Shadows? You dance there ever Friday night.”

She stilled, her book drooping in her grasp, but it swiftly snapped back to her chest, cradled there like a child as she angled her face toward him, looking at him with that same cool hostility. “I don’t dance,” she said flatly.

But he knew it was her, knew it in his bones, in his marrow and blood. “Oh? Well, you move pretty well at the club.”

She wasn’t getting away not this time. “Why are you lying to me? What’s your name? I just need your name…you—you’re so—so…” He was searching for the right word. Beautiful, magnificent, stunning. “—perfect.”

Those eyes widened, doe-eyes caught in the spectral light of machine and gears. But, it was short-lived innocence and warmth, replaced by the curl of a lip, the baring of teeth, and the narrowing of her brow. A snarl—a lupine expression. “Leave. Me. Alone.”

“Wait—please, I’m sorry. Don’t run away—I just—.”

She shot him a long, hard look over her shoulder. One that told him to back off or she’d eat him alive.

Taehyung ducked his head, embarrassment, humiliation, and fear mixing in the loud ‘whoosh’ of blood behind his ears. She was curling into a threadbare cushion of one of the chairs in the corner, nestling in with her book. A force field of ice and snow surrounding her beauty, her heart.

Taehyung chided himself silently. Why did I say any of that to her? God, I must have scared her! Why do I always come off too strongly? Why do I always say the wrong thing?

Sliding the book back into its home upon the shelf, he braced his arms against the sturdy oak. God, she was so lovely—so alluring. Taehyung knew how to talk to girls, knew how to communicate his desire—knew how to listen, to reciprocate others. But she was so different. So frozen and brutal and alone.

How was he supposed to get closer to her, learn her name, her desires? Maybe she didn’t want anyone getting too close, seeing into that dancing flame and smoke to her fractured soul. Maybe she was broken? Or perhaps, she was just shy? Either way, Taehyung decided that he would not give up, that he would move slowly, tentatively, and win the heart he so desired.

~XXX~

Words come out as if reading a book…

So, the routine began. She’d scan the shelves for the next set of pages to piece her heart back together, and he’d be there waiting on the other side of the shelves, or down the row pretending to read a line of random text. She’d ignore his presence and settle into her alcove, and he’d stalk closer each day, until he was invading her sanctuary.

“I know you’ve been watching me, you know?” She sipped her coffee, but did not lift her gaze to his wary one.

Shifting in his sneakers, he eyed the worn beige chair beside her. “Oh…umm…I’m sorry. I just—.”

“Sit.” Her voice was still cold, still demanding, and edged with hostility; but there was something else there too. Amusement. Her eyes flashed in the sudden strike of lightning outside as the storm clouds began unleashing their wrath.

He moved toward the empty seat and lowered into it slowly, cautiously. “Thanks.”

Silence. It cloaked her, the alcove, and the growing space between their souls. The only sound was the thundering of the storm beyond the rain-stained window. Taehyung sunk into the chair, relaxing as she immersed herself behind the cover of her book. He even tried to read his own, but found the mathematics tome covering the argument of zero to be dull, lifeless, and utterly boring.

His eyes found themselves veering toward her. Toward the hunch of her shoulders as she pored over each word, hanging on the edge with each syllable as if they were the most sacred words she’d ever beheld, as if they were the answer to every woe in her soul. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, a habit she had that followed a swipe of her hand over some stray locks of hair, and Taehyung felt something in his chest tighten and snap.

He was so lost he almost missed her say, “So, why are you here? You clearly aren’t here to read.” She gestured to his book, still open in his lap on the same page he’d been on for the past half hour.

He shrugged. “I like the view.”

Her cheeks reddened, but she scoffed, “The campus isn’t that nice. And, the best view of it is from the field.”

He was lost in the way her mouth shaped each word, in the way that every breath punctuated the air so wonderfully—in the sweet, winters-chill of her voice. Still, he found himself asking distantly, “What’s the field?”

Her mouth pressed into a tight line as she surveyed him with animal-bright eyes. Weighing, calculating. “It’s a secret.”

“Oh, come on, you can tell me. I swear your secrets safe with me.” He smiled at her, playing with the prowling lion.

Her mouth twisted into a small smirk. “Somehow, I highly doubt you’re good at keeping secrets—um—?”

He realized he’d never given her his name and was excited at the prospect of her even asking in the first place, making his voice tremble, “Taehyung!” Her eyebrows were high, and he leveled his voice with a cough, “—erm—my name’s Taehyung. What’s yours?”

Progress! We’re making progress.

She stood, pressing her book to her chest tightly. Her face back in that impassive mask as she said, “Ember. You can call me, Ember.”

How ironic.

“Ember…” He sighed over and over again as she vanished through the sheets of slanted rain and bursts of lightning.

~XXX~

When you’re crying because you’re lonely…

The blue-black flame was flickering toward the door again, twirling toward the opening of the club and flying up the damp, dank column of stairs beyond it. Taehyung was on her heels, chasing that dark, mysterious light, trailing it to the crowded Seoul streets. The night-life of the city made the it pulse around them, with loud, slurred conversations, bright, glittering light, and the deafening grind of engine after engine on the bustling streets.

She paused at an empty, harrowing alley. Endless blackness swallowing the flame. Taehyung cursed under his breath, not keen to the idea of wandering into any abandoned, looming alley in the city, especially at one a.m. But he followed anyway, lurking in her shadow that was disappearing in the monstrous ones of the dark passage.

The sound of her heels striking the pavement stopped, and she slid down the brick of one wall, burying her face in her knees. A sniffle, then a sobbing cry that shattered Taehyung’s heart.

“Ember?” A tentative step forward.

“Who’s there?” Her teary eyes were up in a flash, searching for the intruder. She spotted him, shuffling toward her collapsed form and laughed darkly, a wry smile lifting her cheeks. “Of course it’s you. I should have known—well, here you go. Enjoy the show, Taehyung.” She splayed her arms dramatically.

Taehyung winced, but did not pause in his journey forward. “What’s wrong?”

She scuttled away from his reach as he advanced closer. “Why do you care?”

“Because—,” he squatted, leveling his eyes on her, reaching for but not touching her hands. “Because you’re hurting and alone. And, I want to fix that—your loneliness. I—I want to be there for you.”

Because, I think I’m falling in love with you…

Glistening tears fell down her cheeks, and she very carefully, very warily, bridged the rest of the distance between their fingers, entwining each knuckle with uncertainty until he finally gave a light, reassuring squeeze. The unspoken words falling over her: You’re going to be ok now. You’re safe.

~XXX~

At first, you answered once when I texted ten times…

Hey, do you want to grab lunch with me? No reply.

So…how are you doing today? No reply.

I hope you’re having a good day! No reply.

Hey, I actually read a book today…Ok, it was a magazine…Ok, I only looked at the pictures… No reply.

Are you ok? Nothing.

Do you want to meet in the library? Nothing.

Hello? Nothing.

Goodnight… Nothing.

Good morning! Nothing.

Please, talk to me… Not. A. Damn. Word.

Being friends with this girl was like being friends with a stone wall. She had a knack for disappearing for entire weeks at a time. Poof. Just like that she was gone, a whisper on the wind—a murmur in his heart.

Then, materializing from thin, dead air, she’d slam back into his life. Bringing with her the rain, the snow, the storm—the wildfire that was her. Moody and quiet, she’d slump into their alcove—he’d yet to be shown her secret field—and offer some sarcastic insult as a way of greeting.

Today, would be the same as she ground out: “Don’t you have someone else to annoy?”

“Hello, Ember, nice to see you’re still alive,” he countered, sliding a white-paper Starbucks cup toward her chair.

“White chocolate with—?”

“Soy, no whip, extra shot of espresso,” he finished for her.

Her brows raised in approval as she sipped the coffee with a small, secretive smile.

“What?” He asked, a cheeky smile appearing on his mouth. “Impressed?”

“Maybe.” She was sinking further into the threadbare cushion, turning to a dog-eared page and skimming the page.

He’d take a maybe over a no any day.

~XXX~

But later, you call me first and look for me all day…

Taehyung’s phone lit up with a name that had him running to the balcony of Jin’s apartment, answering with a barely contained smile, “Hello?”

“Hey,” Ember said, sounding like someone who hadn’t just tried to call him five times in a row.

“Sorry, my phone’s on silent. I’m—uh—,” a few vulgar gestures from Yoongi told him to make it quick. They were playing poker tonight—cold hard cash was involved here. He sighed, “It doesn’t matter. What’s up? Everything alright?”

She laughed. A strange, foreign sound. Had he ever heard her express something with a semblance to joy before? “Oh, right. It’s guy’s night—sorry, do you want me to let you go?”

“No!” He held the phone closer to his ear, shifting to look at the mist-kissed sky—the skyline of tower after tower that made up the city. He wondered faintly where she was. If she, too, was staring out at the gray-black horizon.

“I just—I needed…,” she trailed off, her voice soft, quiet—warm. “It’s nothing. I just hadn’t heard from you today.”

Then quickly, she added, “Don’t read too much into that.”

But he could not suppress that wide grin from his lips or his voice. “Never.”

“So, will you be free in—oh, an hour?”

“For you? Yes.” He replied automatically. He would be flying from this balcony now if she asked him to.

“Great, I’ll meet you at the front of the library at midnight,” she said.

“Ok? Why are we—,” he started, but she just clicked her tongue.

“You’ll see. Now, back to your poker game. Win big, Taehyung,” she laughed softly and hung up.

He felt like he’d already won, though.

~XXX~

Look here, don’t run away…

“I still don’t see why I have to be blindfolded,” Taehyung whined, tugging at the bandana tied around his eyes.

She continued to lead him along with her soft, mourning dove hands and molten voice. “Just go with it.”

They trekked down the meandering path away from the library, Taehyung stumbling along the cracks in the sidewalk until they crossed onto loamy earth. The feel of her skin on his the only thing keeping him from reaching up to pull the fabric from his eyes and peek at their surroundings.

After what seemed like an eon in complete darkness, Ember uncovered his eyes, and said, “Welcome, Taehyung, to the field.”

It was beautiful. The canopy above let tiny tendrils of swirling starlight shine over the carpet of long, soft, moving grass. Great willow trees took the shape of tightly pulled curtains on a stage of nature. Little brambles and thickets filled in the remainder of space between them, shrouding the two should be lovers in a room of wildlife.

“Ember…,” he marveled, spinning slowly to take in each side of the field. “This is—this is beautiful.”

It didn’t do it any justice, but it was something. Perplexed, he wondered what had prompted her to share this piece of her with him. It felt so intimate—so private, like looking into someone’s memories.

“You like it?” She was tugging at her bottom lip with those lovely teeth, and he wondered quietly if she were nervous.

He nodded, sitting down in the inviting grass. “I do.”

She swallowed. Once. Twice. “Good.”

Placing herself next to him on the soft earth, she tipped her head back to observe the blanket of wheeling stars. Taehyung had never wanted to kiss someone so badly, and as his fingers grazed hers, holding her hand to his chest, he knew she felt the same. He could read it in the way her eyes kept wavering over his lips, and the way her tongue parted those petal-like lips to wet them—the way her face seemed to come closer without actually moving.

“Can I kiss you?” He still asked—still respected the line she had etched into the sand.

There was no reply, only lips covering lips. Pressing, melting—melding, until their lips were bruised and swollen. Until their breaths were mixing, meeting in one another’s lungs, mouths—hearts. Her hands were clutching his jacket, pulling him into her long, swan-like lines. Her blue-black flame.

Taehyung had never tasted something so wonderful: coffee and fire and truth. He wrapped his arms around her waist, beckoning her to his lap, cradling her against the hardness of his chest.

It was so warm. And, quite suddenly, he found himself helping her unzip his gray jacket as her lips burned a hot trail down his neck, his collarbone. Growling, she ripped off his shirt, exposing his puckered flesh to the cool night breeze. Teeth sank into the juncture of his shoulder and neck, a primal aggressive need roared to life within as she bit down, and she was rolling with him in the grass, her clothes tearing from her body easily.

There was no time to admire her body, to tell her how beautiful she was, but he was certain that he made it clear with the grown he emitted at the sight of her naked hips, breast, and thighs astride him. She bit her lip, doing ungodly things to Taehyung’s restraint, as she lowered herself over his hardened length.

Moans filled the clearing, loud enough to scare a few nocturnal animals from their homes. “Taehyung.”

His name was a mantra rolling off her delightful tongue, rolling in time with those writhing hips. It was a dance. A mirror image of that mysterious, ever-elusive ember at the club—swaying and swinging her hips to the bass with ease. Taehyung’s own hips met hers, his throat raw with her name. “Ember…”

The world was tilting—spinning too fast with each shaky breath, each guttural groan. He lifted to sit, his lips connecting to hers, to her neck, to her shoulder and then her breasts. Tasting the small, hard buds. Her skin so soft, so sweet in his mouth.

And then, oblivion. Ecstasy filled every part of his body as she tightened over him, riding out her own orgasm with mewls and moans. Hips meeting in their final moments of passion.

Slumped into his chest, Ember panted, smiling against the hard muscle of one pectoral. “Don’t read too much into that.”

He panted, planting a small, wet kiss on her forehead, “Never.”

He may have lost twenty dollars in a stupid poker game that night, but he’d won something greater than money. The blue-black flame glimmered there in his arms, looking him in the eyes, and he knew she was done running away. She was his ember, always.  

She Will Be Loved (l.h. fic)

Look for the girl with the broken smile

One

Kelsey’s POV

“I have to tell you both something and you’re not gonna like it,” my dad says walking into the living room where my younger brother, Matty, and I sit, searching for something to watch on TV.

“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. We already made it through the divorce,” I say without looking away from the TV and I hear Matty chuckle. Our parents’ divorce was rough. There was a shit ton of fighting and lawyers involved that when it was over, we were actually happy our mom and dad separated.

“True. But you know whatever you say whether we would like it or not, Kelsey is gonna at least pretend to hate it. She hates everything,” Matty says matter-of-factly.

“Shut up. I hate you,” I roll my eyes, purposefully playing into what he just said about me.

“No you don’t. Me and Chad are probably the only two people you actually like. You probably even hate Taylor and she’s your best friend.” Matty laughs. I roll my eyes again but smile. Chad is one of my best friends and also my friends with benefits. Yeah, I have a tiny crush on him. But feelings aren’t part of our arrangement so for now, my feelings are a secret - except from Matty.

“Why do you know so much about me?”

“Because you’re my sister. It’s my job to know. Gotta protect the family, right dad?” Matty looks at our dad but all he does is pinch the bridge of his nose and squeeze his green eyes shut. Talking to Matty and I is never easy. We’re distracted and quite frankly we’re teenagers with terrible attitudes. Matty, even though he’s 17, tries his best to keep his attitude in check. However, I, unlike him, just don’t give a fuck anymore.

“Anyway the band I’m working with for the summer has rudely been pushed out of where they’re staying.”

“Pushed out?” Matty questions. I sink back into the couch and casually browse through my Twitter feed.

“A bigger celebrity needed the house they were supposed to rent so they took the one with the bigger check, anyway the boys need a place to stay.”

“That’s unfortunate. But welcome to L.A.” I mumble. I’ve lived in L.A. my entire life. I was born here and so was Matty. My mom was a famous singer back in the day when she met my dad, who was just starting out with his record company that has become one of the biggest companies in the city. Every summer, the family moves into the beach house in Santa Monica for an epic summer in the sun. This summer is no different.

“They’re staying here. And since we only have two extra beds and you two each have a pull out couch in your rooms, you’ll have to share your rooms.” My dad mumbles the last few words as if to soften the news.

“WHAT! No…How…” Matty stutters. I sit straight up to glare at my father and grit my teeth.

“You don’t even like it when Chad stays over, how are you okay with some boy you don’t even know staying in my room?”

“They’re good guys. I’ve worked with them before,” my dad says calmly trying to sooth my brother and I’s rising frustration.

“Who are they?” Matty spits out.

“5 Seconds of Summer.”

“Wait, Kels, don’t you listen to them?”

I sigh heavily. “I like the one and only EP they have out. But that doesn’t mean I like sharing my room. It’s my room. My personal space.”

“Well get used it. They’ll be here for the entire summer,” my dad says turning and heading towards the front door. “I’ll be back. I’m going to pick them up.”

“Fuck that,” I breathe out.

“Clean your rooms. And clean your attitudes while you’re at it,” Dad shouts as he closes the front door behind him.

“This sucks,” I say falling back into the couch, throwing my hands over my face.

“I hope your guy is the messiest one,” Matty says glancing at me.

I remove my hands from my face to glare at him. “Don’t even put that out into the universe. With my luck, it’ll happen.”

Luke’s POV

Pulling into the driveway of a large, modern white house, I can feel the nerves sinking in. My bandmates - Ashton Irwin, Calum Hood, Michael Clifford - and I are going to be spending the summer in Paul Ryan’s beach house, which means sharing the house with the infamous Kelsey and Matty Ryan. Paul informed us that two of us will be sharing a room with each of them. Unfortunately, I lost the game of Rock Paper Scissors therefore I will be sharing Kelsey’s room. Kelsey - who is 18 - is known to be, well, a bitch. She has a reputation as Paul Ryan’s crazy troublemaker daughter. Matty, from what I’ve heard, is nice but is not one to be messed with. Calum unfortunately will be sharing Matty’s room.

The boys and I follow Paul into the house. It’s silent. We walk in past the living room that is filled with a light brown couch, sitting on top of a white rug. It is positioned in front of a large flat screen TV and fire place. We enter the kitchen that is also entirely white except for the appliances that are silver. The house’s interior is modern, almost futuristic. There are almost no real walls. The walls are all glass to show off the incredible view of the beach.

“Ah, there they are,” Paul utters waving for us to follow him. We walk out onto the porch that has a glass railing, beige and white lawn chairs with a matching umbrella and side table sitting in the center. Paul removes his shoes and heads toward the beach, walking down the wooden stairs that end directly in the sand. Again, the boys and I do the same. The sand feels warm under my feet.

“I just want to warn you, my son, Matty, will be the easy one. He’ll warm up to you boys within a few days,” Paul says casually glancing over his shoulder as he speaks. “It’s my daughter that will give you the toughest time. Don’t give in to her. Eventually she’ll give up and have to be nicer.”

“And how long will that take?” I ask. “Since I’m the one sharing the room with her.”

“It’s different for everyone,” Paul shrugs. I look past Paul and out to the horizon but something catches my eye. A brunette girl in a black bikini is walking out of the water. She shakes her head gracefully and grabs her long hair to squeeze the excess water out. She’s beautiful. Suddenly, a tall guy with shoulder length curly blonde hair wraps his arms around her waist from behind and pulls her back. She smiles and laughs, playfully elbowing him in the chest. As he releases her, a girl with long blonde hair in a dark purple bikini catches up to them. She takes the brunette girl’s hand and they begin walking toward us. Or so I thought. Another tall boy - a boy with brown hair - is standing by the towels which happens to be right where the girls and guy are walking toward.

“Matty, Kelsey,” Paul shouts when we get close to the group of teens. The two brunettes quickly turn to face Paul. I watch as Matty’s face becomes confused and Kelsey’s smile fades, her green eyes losing their happy sparkle. The blonde girl and blonde guy just roll their eyes and turn away.

“Are these the intruders?” Kelsey spits out. I can feel the annoyance in her tone.

Kelsey’s POV

“These are our guests,” Dad says, trying to correct me. I roll my eyes. “This is Calum,” - brown hair with a random blonde highlight and brown eyes, some tattoos - ,“Ashton”, - longish wavy golden brown hair, greenish eyes, crooked smile - , “Michael,” - light blonde/yellowish hair, green eyes, some tattoos and piercings - , “And lastly, Luke,” - blonde quiff, lip ring, blue eyes, and very tall.

“Great. Which one is staying in my room?” Matty questions impatiently. I bite my lip to fight the chuckle I feel bubbling in my throat.

“Calum,” Dad says placing a hand on the brown-eyed boy’s shoulder. Matty huffs but doesn’t say another word.

“What about me? Actually don’t tell me. Let me guess, the one who’s staying in my room is probably the messiest and most annoying one out of all of you,” I flatly guess. “Because that’s just my luck. Am I right?” Ashton begins to open his mouth but I cut him off. “No, I said let me guess. Keep up.” He shuts his mouth. I scan over all four boys again, my eyes landing on the one that I feel suites my description simply by the way he is standing in all black, shoulders slightly hunched. “You,” I say pointing at the blonde with the quiff. “Did I guess correctly?”

“Kelsey-” my dad begins to say. The boy interrupts.

“Yeah,” Luke nods and bites his lip. “I promise I’ll do my best to keep it clean and not bother you.”

“Good,” I say. I grab my beach bag from the sand and begin walking toward the house, Matty, Chad, and Taylor following behind me. I “accidentally” bump into Luke’s shoulder on the way.

“He’s cute,” Taylor whispers, twirling her blonde hair and glancing back.

“Yeah, but he’s a baby,” I laugh. “Did you see how quickly he crumbled?”

“When you make him cry, can I watch?” Chad chuckles, running a hand through his curly blonde locks. I smile up at him and he drops his arm around my shoulder.

“Should we start placing bets how long they’ll last?” Matty chimes in and we all just laugh.

Luke’s POV

“I hate to say this,” Paul says breaking the silent tension Kelsey and Matty left behind, “but I told you they’d be tough.”

My mouth hangs open. What just happened? And how am I gonna make it through two whole months of that? Somehow I know that this first impression is nothing compared to what’s to come.


This is my new fic, let me know if you like it! :) I’m excited about this one!

Distractions - Modern AU

Well this certainly wasn’t a millennia in the making and I was totally not tumblr-ing. aylapazzatheawesome was like “thing” and kit-replica played a role in this too somehow. 

—-

*Scream*

Damn it!

Jack slammed his pencil down on the desk and pulled at his dyed white hair in frustration. That was the fourth time tonight. I am so gonna fail my exam tomorrow.

Groaning, he picked up the pencil and finished scribbling down the answer he had been working on before being rudely interrupted. He needed to finish this stupid packet if he was ever gonna have a shot at doing decently on the test. The packet itself was worth 200 points. And it was due tomorrow. Sure it was given out two weeks ago, but Jack suffered from a severe medical condition called procrastination. And he was pretty sure that flashing his signature smile wasn’t gonna keep him out of trouble forever.

Not two minutes passed before another scream vibrated through the floor from the apartment below. Jack felt his eye twitch as he stopped writing. Slowly placing his pencil down, he scooted back and stood up with such speed, the chair nearly toppled over and exploded. Not really but are you seriously gonna question it? Grabbing his phone and keys, the angry teen made his way towards the front door, passing his faithful little companion who fluttered by his head in a flurry of color.

“Baby Tooth I’ll be back in a few minutes, stay outta trouble.” He said as the door swung shut tight behind him. Had Jack stayed, he would have seen the little bird fly off towards his bedroom with a shiny quarter. She had a knack of hiding things under his pillow and it was usually whatever money was laying around.

Jack grumbled to himself as he angrily stomped downstairs towards the apartment below. He honestly couldn’t believe that his studying was interrupted by some girl who couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Well, that’s the priced he payed for deciding to live in an apartment rather than on campus. At least he didn’t have to share the apartment with anyone else, so that’s a plus perhaps. Another plus was that since school was so close, he could go grab a quick cup of coffee from the little café on the corner and catch up on his reading. Hey, just because he procrastinates doesn’t mean he can’t sit down at a table and pull out a good book.

Reaching the landing, he approached the first door and proceeded to aggressively pound on it. Aggressively. Several seconds passed and he half expected the door to open, but no such luck. A growl escaped his lips when yet another scream came from the opposite side of the door.

Now Jack was ultra pissed. Some could even say his anger was over 9000.

Trying the door knob, it surprised him that it turned and he tried to push it open. He didn’t get far though because the door immediately jerked and got stuck on something. Jack furrowed his brow in confusion while his eyes searched the wooden rectangle looking for some explanation as to why the door didn’t open. His blue eyes landed on a little silver chain.

Duh.

Jack grinned to himself, squeezing his hand through the slightly ajar door and worked the silver lock out of its socket. He prided himself at how good his ability was at wiggling chain locks loose. Don’t ask how he was so talented at breaking and entering because he would smile sarcastically and say “its a gift”, before walking off.

Trying the door again with a little more force, it still refused to budge. That’s when he noticed another silver chain near the top of the door. Whoever this person was they were serious about security he thought to himself, standing on his toes in an attempt to free the metallic chain. After a few seconds, the chain fell loose and he finally shoved the door completely open.

Stepping carefully inside, he scanned the well furnished apartment in search of the damsel in distress. He nearly died when his eyes landed on an incredibly hot brown haired boy who was standing on a beige leather chair in fright while holding a huge fluffy black cat which was hissing at something. Jack couldn’t tell what the feline was hissing at exactly because the hunk’s couch was blocking his view. He walked up to the large piece furniture and looked past it towards where the brunette was.

There, on the ground, was a little cockroach scurrying around the floor near a magazine, a shoe and what appeared to be the shattered remains of a glass mug. Jack smiled as he walked over to the magazine and snatched it up. His presence went unnoticed because the guy had squeezed his eyes shut and was screaming his head off. Using the shoe, jack knelt down and coerced the cockroach onto the magazine which upon closer inspection, was smaller than an inch. Flicking the roach out the door and down the stairs, Jack approached the still screaming man and stood there admiring him. The cat had stopped hissing though and stared curiously at the white haired boy who glanced briefly at the ball of fluff.

Feeling a little awkward, Jack coughed and shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets since he didn’t really know what to say. The boy stopped screaming and looked at jack, surprised to see a stranger standing uncomfortably in his living room.

Jack was equally surprised, but for a different reason. Jack completely underestimated how hot this guy really was. For instance, his hair was the right kind of messy and a bit of stubble lined his well defined chin. He had soft light pink lips that weren’t too small or too big, and there seemed to be a little white scar near the right corner of his mouth. Not to mention he had a cute little nose while his cheeks were decorated with a few freckles.

And those eyes. Those green emerald gems that blinked at him with curiosity.

Jack could feel the front of his pants tighten and he swallowed. Not wanting to make things weird, he decided to speak first since the guy was obviously waiting for him. Might as well make a good impression by being himself.

“Are you gonna stare at me or come on down?” Jack teased with his trademark smile.

Hearing this, the freckled boy’s eyes jumped to the floor and after finding no trace of the monster, a sigh of relief escaped his lips. Jack extended a hand to the guy who graciously accepted it (note: dude’s hand was soft AF). Cat in one arm, the guy carefully climbed off the chair timidly, still thinking the bug was gonna zip across the floor at any moment. Luckily nothing did.

Releasing the black feline who sat patiently by his owners feet, the guy stood back to his full height and Jack found himself looking up. It wasn’t a lot but the guy definitely had at least three inches on him.

Jack was expecting this guy to have a deep voice, but what he heard was the exact opposite.

“Thanks for helping me.” coughed the green eyed boy, obviously as flustered as Jack. A flush was creeping its way across his face and Jack couldn’t help but love how cute it made him look.

“Anytime.” replied Jack happily. “My name’s Jack by the way.”

“I’m Hayden, but you can call me Hiccup because everyone does.” said Hiccup with a dopey grin and a shrug. Jack bowed dramatically in response, earning a laugh from Hiccup.

“I was upstairs studying the cure for world hunger when I heard a cry of distress, so I flew to the rescue.” explained Jack, puffing out his chest in an attempt to appear manly. Hiccup giggled and rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” His eyes drifted away from Jack to the cat staring intently at Jack. “I could help you with studying if you want. Y’know, as payment since I interrupted you with the roach attack.” Hiccup offered, feeling somewhat guilty.

Jack smiled and tilted his head. “I think that would be fun. Can we start now?” The white haired boy winked at Hiccup.

“W-what do you n-need help with?” stammered Hiccup, his palms beginning to sweat. Toothless the cat was rubbing himself on Jack’s shin and jumped when the nineteen year old moved.

Stepping closer until their faces were inches apart, Jack answered. “Well, I wouldn’t mind some help with French.” whispered Jack as he leaned forward.