is there never a moment in which you don't look good

anonymous asked:

Hey! Can I ask where this " Jeremy Shada said we don't need to worry about lgbt representation, we will be happy" comes from? Is there like a video or a tweet that proves that? Bc I never saw evidence and honestly I am concerned that this is just sb messing with our hopes. Also, isn't it possible that the lgbt representation has nothing to do with lance? Maybe it is sb else. Idk. I hate getting my hopes up ._.

it’s from this post! i doubt the OP is messing with us lol also it’s 100% something to do with lance, my good dude……… BECAUSE……

this is official art by lauren montgomery. i have said this before and i’ll say it again, but pidge’s sign has to do with her arc, her gender reveal. keith’s sign has to do with his arc, his galra heritage reveal. this was posted before s2 aired and it clearly foreshadows galra keith. not coincidences. lance’s sign definitely has to do with him and his arc, his sexuality reveal. lauren would not make keith’s sign and pidge’s sign related to them and then make lance’s sign have nothing to do with him. this stuff is all planned from the start. she’s also the one who said this:

[on expressions] “if we know that a character is feeling something about that- that moment- especially if we know there’s something coming up down the line that maybe hasn’t been revealed, but it would make that character feel a certain way- we try to insert in there a nod to it.”

which is important to remember while watching the show but also when looking at this art because a lot can be taken from their expressions. keith, pidge, and lance look much more unsure and nervous and they’re holding their signs with both of their hands, indicating that HEY this is my sign, it has something to do with me and i’m anxious about it. hunk, allura, and shiro appear to be showing support. shiro and hunk especially look very confident. allura has both of her hands on the sign but her arm is around pidge, like a hug. allura’s the one who tried to coax pidge into telling her her gender. shiro easily could’ve been put with pidge since he was very supportive of her but allura has her own connection to the gender sign (and shiro’s put with lance for a reason). she’s a princess but she is not your “typical princess.” here’s a comment someone left on my klance masterpost about this and i completely agree:

I think Allura has one more reason for holding a gender sign with Pidge, and that is because she challenges the gender stereotypes. She’s not your typical little princess who needs to be protected by all means. She’s a tough young woman that can (and will) kick your ass, and I think that alone is a very powerful message to all the girls that watch this show. It’s a reminder that, no matter what society might claim, they are strong, and they can accomplish anything if they put their mind to it.

hunk has his hand on keith’s shoulder, showing support. he stood by keith after he found out he’s part galra. he was cracking jokes about it and he was there for him. think “belly of the weblum” and all their moments together. also, in “stayin’ alive” when allura thanks hunk for getting the scaultrite, he says, “no problem. you know, keith was there too.” hunk is samoan, so he also has his own connection to the race sign. then, we have shiro holding the LGBT sign with lance, one hand on his shoulder in support. the LGBT rep definitely has to do with lance, you shouldn’t worry. there’s so much backing it up. i think shiro will play some sort of supportive role when it comes to lance’s sexuality and since hunk and allura are connected to the signs they’re holding, shiro may end up being LGBT, too. also, the sign art connects with the paladins of old, as well… which was pointed out to me by @farmlandtensions:

zarkon, a galra, was the original black paladin.
keith, a part galra boy, is the current black paladin.
THE RACE SIGN. 

trigel, the only female paladin on her team, was the original green paladin.
pidge, the only female paladin on her team (before allura became a paladin, obviously) is the current green paladin.
THE GENDER SIGN. 

blaytz, who was shown flirting with a male galra, was the original blue paladin.
lance, a boy who is totally not straight, we grew to know as the blue paladin.
THE LGBT SIGN. 

they make parallels and show similarities between blaytz and lance to show that, yes, they’re comparing them rather than comparing blaytz and allura.

for the 100th time, this stuff isn’t a coincidence. 

the bi flag colors and the gay flag colors have been used in the show on two separate occasions now. first, in s1ep6… an episode with some great klance moments. next, in s3ep3… another episode with some great klance moments. studio mir is animating VLD and they also animated TLOK. the bi flag colors were in the background of the finale of korra. i’ve always theorized that since pidge’s gender arc was in s1 and keith’s race arc was in s2, that lance’s sexuality arc would be in s3. other people think this, too. seeing as how s4 is basically just part 2 of s3, taking the BIG amount of development between keith and lance in s3 into consideration and the fact that lance did not flirt with allura for the entirety of s3, or anyone, actually. i think this will, hopefully, come to fruition in s4 and they will touch on lance’s sexuality. if not, we’ll get it eventually

also, in interviews, they don’t always simply say lance flirts with girls. jeremy shada, especially, does this. in lance’s birthday livestream, he says:

[about lance] “a super like, flirty person that’s hitting on every *hesitates* person that has two legs.”

i’m not kidding btw, he literally hesitates a little before saying person. i don’t have the link to the vid but you can find it easily by googling lance’s birthday livestream. in the famous “lance falling in love” quote, he does this, too:

jeremy would definitely know by now that lance isn’t straight and it’s really obvious that he’s sitting on that information. he’s done this at least one other time that i know of, as well. if lance was straight, this stuff? it would not happen. they would always just say girl/girls.

"copycat” still really bothers me

i’m sure i’m not the first person to notice this but i’m rewatching the show and the episode “copycat” just gets me so annoyed and irritated because of how adrien was written in that episode. this is probably the episode where we have the most blatant, explicit evidence of one of adrien’s flaws (i.e. his jealousy) and he is at no point forced to be held accountable for his actions. 

adrien quite literally causes an akuma because of his jealousy. but he is not forced to apologize to theo for lying about his relationship with ladybug, he’s not forced to apologize to ladybug for lying about said relationship without her consent, and adrien himself is not allowed time in the episode to acknowledge his jealousy, find fault in it, and learn from his mistake. 

adrien as a character already has this annoying habit of being presented as the “perfect boy” who very rarely makes mistakes and is idolized for it. not just by marinette. by pretty much everyone. “jackady” had this really strange scene where gabriel and ladybug were staring at adrien’s modeling shots and gushing about how “flawless” and “perfect” he is. and most of adrien’s arguably negative qualities (e.g. his occassional inability to take things seriously in battle, his naivete, his occasional impulsiveness as chat noir, etc.) are often presented in ways that either make us sympathize with his behavior or find it endearing. 

“copycat” is probably one of the only (if not the only) episodes where adrien is very clearly doing something wrong. he’s angry that theo likes ladybug so much so he lies about his relationship with ladybug and tells theo they’re a thing so that he can back off and chat noir can have ladybug all to himself. 

the problem is that the show doesn’t call out adrien for this jealousy. about the only time it does is when plagg makes a dig at him right when adrien realizes who the akuma is. 

and despite this, adrien merely rolls his eyes at plagg and scoffs at the comment as if it’s a joke. that was the perfect opportunity for adrien to take just a few seconds to say “you’re right. i should’ve never lied and let myself get jealous. that was wrong of me.”

about the best we can get is when chat noir acknowledges that he was the one who caused the akuma so he’s the one who has to go and get himself out of it. but at no point does he tell ladybug why this happened (especially because it involves her) and at no point does he vocalize the mistake he made, i.e. the fact that he let his jealousy take over. 

then this is where the episode really starts to bother me

he calls out ladybug for not showing up to the statue unveiling. they actually make chat noir take time in the middle of his screw up to basically tell ladybug “well maybe you’d know what’s going on if you showed up this morning.” ladybug had done nothing wrong in regards to this akuma. we’re dealing with her phone stealing and her bad time management on the side, but this has nothing to do with the akuma. if anyone’s mistakes should be being highlighted here, it’s adrien’s. 

but the episode continues to just let adrien get away with the fact that he lied. ladybug praises chat noir for his honesty and for the fact that he’s never lied to ladybug about anything (hello, irony) and normally this would be a pretty good moment for chat noir to at least look guilty. but instead he merely thanks her for the compliment and continues fighting anyway. 

and then it gets even worse because the one who apologizes at the end of the episode is ladybug!! she apologizes to theo for not showing up to the unveiling! which, fine ok, but where was adrien’s apology? where was his opportunity to explain to ladybug that he messed up for lying about their relationship, causing this akuma, and putting ladybug in danger?

it’s replaced with chat noir’s angst about his crush not being returned. 

we feel bad for him at the end of this episode because his “crush was crushed.” let alone that he let his jealousy get the better of him and lied to a stranger about ladybug and his relationship behind her back. we end the episode feeling sympathy for chat noir because ladybug doesn’t feel the same way for him. mr. perfect finally has an episode where he screws up and the show does not allow him to take sufficient responsibility for it and own up to his mistake. 

and it further annoys me that this happened because anytime marinette messes up, she almost always apologizes. when she didn’t listen to chloe and caused her to be akumatized? she apologized to her for not listening to her. when she yelled at lila and caused her to be akumatized because of her own jealousy? she apologized to lila for being so mean to her. marinette is continuously asked to own up to her mistakes and apologize for them (as she should) meanwhile the one time adrien screws up, he gets let off for it. 

idk man, it just gets me upset that adrien got it so easy in this episode. he should’ve apologized to theo. he should’ve told ladybug the truth. he should’ve owned up to the fact that his jealousy was totally unwarranted. 

Harry's interview on Quotidien
  • I: Can you hear me?
  • H: Yes
  • I: Welcome to Paris!
  • H: Thank you
  • I: How are you? Can you answer in French?
  • H: Good! A little bit. A tiny bit. Très bien et toi ?(very good and you?)
  • I: Very good, thank you. We start our interviews with “can you give us your five favourites words in English or French. Or a French sentence”. Someone told me you knew a French sentence.
  • H: Comment vous faites un café si délicieux? (How do you make such a delicious coffee?)
  • I: OK, that’s good.
  • H: That’s all I have.
  • I: Do you say it very often?
  • H: No... Yes
  • I: What does France mean to you? Is it something, someone etc...?
  • H: Best people I’ve known... I think her, *shows a fan* I guess. Fabien Barthez.
  • I: Yes, Fabien Barthez. Harry, you’re 23 years old and you’re one of the best known pop-star in the world. Everybody has expectations with your new album and single Sign Of The Times. Why did you choose that song? This is not what people were expecting.
  • H: I think I wanted to.. I've always liked music that made me feel something. You know I think writing it I could feet something I wanted to bring it out. I think it's a good indicator for me of what the album is to me. That's why I wanted to go with that first.
  • I: Billboard wrote that the single was "one of the more ambitious opening statements in pop this decade". Not bad, isn't it?
  • H: Thanks!
  • I: Do you have friends working at Billboard?
  • H: I don't know anyone at Billboard.
  • I: When we listen to the song we think of David Bowie, Queen, who else did you think of?
  • H: I mean, I think everyone, anything, any song you've ever listened to growing up or throughout your life or you've enjoyed, inspired you. There are a lot of different things. I wanted to just write and see what came out. I didn't know what I sounded like to make an album. So this process was as interesting for me as I think it will be for people listening to the album for the first time.
  • I: Do you know French singers other than Serge Gainsbourg? That's a tricky question.
  • H: I know Woodkid. He directed my music video.
  • I: Why him?
  • H: I think his videos are amazing, he's a really talented guy and I love French people so I worked with him.
  • I: When you're in Spain, do you say that you love Spanish people?
  • H: No!
  • I: It seems like everything has been easy...
  • H: Great tie.
  • I: You think so? It's French.
  • H: It's not a Spanish tie, isn't it?
  • I: Can I see your loafer? Oh yes! What is the brand? That's not French, isn't it? It's Italian.
  • H: No.
  • I: That's from the European Union!
  • H: Probably yeah.
  • I: It seems like everything has been easy for you, is it true?
  • H: Was what simple?
  • I: Your life, everybody wants a life like yours, with One Direction...
  • H: I mean, I feel very lucky to be able to make music, I feel very lucky to be able to make this, I feel very lucky today being in France and performing my song. I love this song. I can't complain.
  • I: What were the unpleasant things?
  • H: *thinking*
  • I: I don't know, say only one thing.
  • H: I think when you care so much about something, it's hard to get to the point where you feel like it's finished and it feels like you're adding and it never ends and it adds up. So I think the hardest part was getting into that point and be like "ok that's finished."
  • I: You said to the Rolling Stone magazine that most of the album was inspired by a woman. Really?
  • H: No I think, honestly, the album is much more about me than it is about anyone else. I think if I said the album is about a woman it kind of feels like, I don't know, I put a lot of work into this. I don't feel like it revolves around woman. It's a lot about me and things I've never said before. It's more about me.
  • I: How did you start with a boy band and end with a solo career? Is it complicated?
  • H: It's been a lot of fun. You know we were very lucky to get to do some amazing things and at the moment in our lives, we're in a time where everyone is trying their own thing and have a good time. It's been amazing to see everyone doing their own thing as well. If I can do as well as the others, it'd be amazing.
  • I: Do you call them everyday or text them? Do you use What's app?
  • H: I don't have that.
  • I: Why?
  • H: Yes we talk, absolutely. And everyone is bringing stuff out. It's been a lot going on. It's been a good time.
  • I: This is the album cover! Can you describe it? Why did you choose this picture?
  • H: Yeah. So, I don't know. I worked with photographer Harley Weir, I'm a massive fan of her work. And that's amazing and I was lucky enough to work with her. I felt like this was what I wanted.
  • I: Why is it pink? Why the water? Why your back? Why? It's beautiful but why is it pink?
  • H: I don't know, man!
  • I: Really? You don't know?
  • H: I don't know. I don't think I want...
  • I: Apparently pink is Rock'n'roll's colour.
  • H: Apparently so. I don't know. I think it means something to me and if it means anything to anyone else, I wouldn't want to take away from that by explaining it. I think the cool thing about stuff like photos and art is you can just leave it. You don't have to explain it.
  • I: Everybody sees what they want to see.
  • H: Yes exactly.
  • I: Have you seen this?
  • *video of people reacting to Harry's single*
  • I: Your fans record themselves while listening to the song for the first time. You can hear relevant analysis and apparently they all really liked it. Do you read what people say about you on social media? On Youtube, Twitter, Instagram? Do you use Instagram?
  • H: Yes I use it a little bit.
  • *The public disagrees with Harry*
  • H: Yes I use it a little bit. I mean I wish everyone was having as good time as the girl who was like that with her hands. That's what I do when I listen to the song.
  • I: Are you the one using your Instagram? Do you use your own fingers or someone else does it for you?
  • H: Yes, I do mine.
  • I: Do you still vote in Redditch?
  • H: In?
  • I: Redditch!
  • H: That's where I was born?
  • I: Yes.
  • H: I don't live in Redditch.
  • I: So you don't vote there. Where did you vote?
  • H: London, yeah.
  • I: What do you think of the Brexit? Welcome to Europe!
  • H: Thank you very much, thanks. I mean, I don't really comment on politics. To me, anything that brings people together is better than things that pull people apart. That's ... yeah.
  • I: Yet, you are in favour of equality of rights, men, women, gay people, straight people... That's politics.
  • H: I don't know. It doesn't feel like politics. I think stuff like equality feels much more fundamental. I feel like everyone is equal. That doesn't feel like politics to me.
  • I: Your fans are fetishists. They know all of your tattoos, piece of jewellery, they have heart attacks when you cut your hair. Right now you're playing with their feelings. Do you know that?
  • H: Oh ok.
  • I: Yes! What is your favourite tattoo?
  • H: I think... I have a.. probably. I don't know, actually.
  • I: Which one is the latest?
  • H: The latest is this one there. *shows Arlo* And this one. *shows Jackson*
  • I: Jackson? All of them?
  • H: Yes.
  • I: What's the story behind your haircut? How much did you spend on hair products with One Direction?
  • H: Yeah, like a lot. I used a lot, yeah.
  • I: You're in Dunkirk, Christopher Nolan's new movie.
  • H: Yes.
  • I: How did you do?
  • H: I auditioned.
  • I: Look at you there.
  • H: I am, that's me.
  • I: Yes.
  • H: I auditioned and it was great. It's going to be a really cool movie.
  • I: Harry, it feels like we know you since you're a baby. The whole world discovered you in 2010 on X Factor.
  • *video of Harry's X Factor audition*
  • I: You auditioned alone but Simon Cowell had an idea... he put you in a band with Zayn, Louis, Liam and Niall. You became One Direction. You found the name One Direction and you sold millions of albums. One Direction are soon considered as the new Beattles and you filled the biggest stadiums. The whole world was talking about you. When you go out we prayed for your eardrums. You became UK's pride. David Cameron is in one of your music videos, your sang for the Queen. But in 2015... bang! Zayn left the band, fans couldn't get over it. But don't worry, their favourite is now on the cover of the Rolling Stone magazine, he's in Christopher Nolan's new movie, he's Mick Jagger on SNL... What you don't know is that we've met in 2012. You were in France to promote an album and now I have questions. First one! When you're in a car and fans are all around you, do you see that?
  • *video of fans around a car*
  • H: I think I've actually lost my shoe there. When I got in the car... I got in the car and I was like "how many shoes do I have?" Yes I lost my shoe.
  • I: I have another question! Do you still do that before going on stage?
  • *video of Harry and Lou*
  • I: Can we do it?
  • H: No.
  • *does it anyway*
  • I: What is the weirdest question someone asked you?
  • H: I think it was actually a French interview. I got asked if I would pee in a sink... Yeah.
  • I: Ok, that's weird!
  • H: It was the first question, the first question.
  • I: It puts you in the mood.
  • H: Yeah.
  • I: What is the question you never want to be asked ever again? Did I asked you that question?
  • *Harry asks the public*
  • H: Which one? Oh crush.
  • I: What?
  • H: Crush.
  • I: Oh ok. I didn't ask it! Did you know that a French author wrote a novel about you. It's called "Styles", it's about his obsession with you. It's in French. You can translate it.
  • H: Oh! Is that true?
  • I: Yes it's true. He dedicated to you. It's called "Styles" and it's a really good book. Read it!
  • H: Thank you.
  • I: Thank you very much Harry Styles for coming tonight. His first eponymous album comes out on the 12th May. Thank you Harry Styles.
  • H: Thank you.
  • I: Have a safe journey home.
Klance Fic Recs, AU Settings I

Okay so I might end up making multiple parts for AU settings. This one contains mostly occupational/hobby/setting AU stuff. So unless an AU fic prominently featured a certain element, it’ll go on another list. So there are some College AUs, 2 Soulmate AUs, and maybe a few others. 

SPORTS

Olympians
house on fire by ilgaksu
When Lance McClain is eighteen, he qualifies for the Olympics.

When he’s nineteen, he meets Keith.

Correlation does not mean cause, until it totally does.

your love is bright as ever by aknightley (gymnast!Keith, swimmer!Lance)
A brief interlude in the future of the Olympic AU, Christmas with Keith and Lance and their cats.

“This always looks easier in those made for television movies,” Keith tells Blue, who rolls over and out of his lap, chasing her own bits of tinsel.

In It To Win It by Lucy_Claire
One of two things was happening right now, either Lance was having a heart attack on of the biggest day of his life, or he had just laid eyes on his Soulmate.
_______

Competitive swimmer Lance McClain feels his Timer counting down right when he’s about to jump in the water and finish up his race. He’s faced with two choices in this moment: Continue the race and miss meeting his Soulmate at their fateful time or abandon his life’s work for someone he never met.Lance makes his choice and has to suffer the consequence of never getting back what he missed out on. Or does he?

Swimmers
Ocean Eyes by spacezuko
Lance himself doesn’t even believe in his own abilities. He is drowning in his own pool of desire to be everything that he claims he is. Everything that he wants to be. Keith wonders if he’s broken Lance because he doesn’t say a word, his eyes filled with something opaque that Keith can’t quite pinpoint the meaning of. Lance’s eyes are a deep blue. Not the typical morning sky blue, but the kind of ocean blue one wants to drown in.

With legs like these by Queerswimming
In which Lance finds out that there’s a pool in the castle and challenges Keith to a race.

Lance did NOT think this through. Because not a single thing in this universe could’ve prepare him for the sight of Keith in nothing but a red pair of swimming trunks.

Keith has one arm bend behind his head and stretches it with the other. His back arches beautifully, presenting Lance a perfect view of his well-defined torso. At least the last thing Lance sees right before he dies are those ripped abs.

Football
Mistakes were made by Lynn1998
Lance can’t stand the captain of the football team…so why is he having sex with him?
Part 1 of skinny band nerd takes it up the ass from the beefcake football captain series

Ice Skating/Hockey
On Thin Ice (WIP) by Minadora
Once upon a time, two Canadian nerds decided to start a figure skating au about their two space sons and their wonderful misfit friends. Ten pages of headcanons later we finally put electronic pen to electronic paper and created this monstrosity.

This multi-chapter fic chronicles the lives of a hockey player named Keith who gets forcibly enlisted into figure skating lessons by his brother, Shiro, to “work on his footwork”. There he meets a pompous - yet talented - figure skater named Lance and gets swept away by both the sport and the skater.Enjoy the ride because it’s only just started.

Kiss My Ice (WIP) by delictor
Lance hasn’t skated in a year since the accident that cost him the Olympics. Keith can’t skate for shit but that doesn’t stop him from catching Lance’s attention, even when he can’t so much as stand up after falling on the ice.

‘When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream.’

“Soon as we’re off this ice you’re dead.” Keith’s threat is an empty one and he knows Lance can tell by the way he laughs at it.
“Serious question though, do you not know who I am?” Lance questions.
“Should I?”
“No, I guess not.” Lance shrugs. “I’m gonna twirl you, okay?”
“No, no don't—wait!” Keith cries out as he’s suddenly viewing the entire arena and his legs go rigid before colliding into Lance’s chest, his chest rising and falling with laughter, hands gripping Keith’s upper arms gently. “Put me back on land.”
“Technically, we are on land.”
“We’re on frozen water, get me off it.”

Quidditch (Non Hogwarts AU)
The Marks We Make (WIP) by wittyy_name
Lance McClain constantly dreams of the day he’ll finally meet his mysterious soulmate. They don’t say much, if anything at all, but they leave him with gorgeous paintings temporarily tattooing his skin. It’s not exactly the situation he hoped for, but when he feels the connection between them, he can’t bring himself to resent them. As much as he wishes his soulmate would just talk to him, he’s resigned himself to being patient. In the meantime, he has a loving family and good friends to help him get by.

Keith Kogane dreads the day he’ll finally meet his obnoxious soulmate. He’s just an art student who’s struggling to find his place in the world. There’s so much he hasn’t been able to control in his life, and the thought of having a soulmate, just another thing in his life which he also has no control over yet can’t do anything about, is a little terrifying. So he ignores the words that occasionally appear on his skin. He has other things to focus on: like being a new student at a big university where his childhood friend and step-brother go.

Surfers (mostly surfer!Lance)
Should I Stand Up on Fear (And Tell You How I Feel?) by Lulatic
“So, it’s really a good thing that Lance got distracted before he dragged you out there with him,” Hunk chuckled. “I guess flirting became more important than your guys’ rivalry.’

Keith blushed again, looking away with a huff. “Yeah, whatever. He’ll probably be distracted long enough that I can go back to the Castle before he decides I need some surfing lessons.”

Pidge laughed, that kind of cheeky giggle that made Keith and Hunk look over at them with wide eyes. Pidge raised a single eyebrow at Keith, grinning mischievously. “Oh, but you won’t be going back to the Castle any time soon, now will you? Not when Lance is out there, soaking wet, wearing nothing but a pair of swimming trunks.”

Pride Tide by lemoninagin
He’d stared up, watched the differing patches of sunlight play the most stunning array of colored patterns across Keith’s pale face as he grinned mischievously over him. Time slowed, his own breathing became laboured and caught in his throat.

“You can teach me, right?” Keith had asked in a shyer voice than usual, brushing the tangled mess of his windswept hair away from his eyes and cocking his head towards the boards.

Save his smile by Queerswimming
Keith wants to protect Lance’s smile and finds his answer at the beach. Starring an awkward Keith, Surfer Lance and Hunk playing a giant ice berg.

Lance caresses the wood gently. His eyes turn soft as he speaks. “My big brother taught me how to build a board.” He laughs softly. “I always messed it up though. I wasn’t patient enough to do it right.“ He taps on the wood and looks at Keith with a sad smile that knocks the breath out of Keith lungs.

“Who would have thought that I would build a surf board in space though.”

He laughs at that but Keith can tell that Lance is faking it. He always can.

Roller Derby
Like Devo by surveycorpsjean
As rival jammers, they’re rough, skating around the rink, giving bruises, bloody noses, broken ribs and snapped fingers-

But when the cops show up, Keith grabs his hand and yanks Lance into the storm drain.

And thats how they start dating.

Streetracing
Purple Lamborghini by warschach
“I need you to focus on this race. No more hate flirting with Keith as much as I enjoy it. I like winning more.”

He scoffed, “I don’t flirt.”

“Then stop saying you’re going to teach him how to ride.”

“I was talking about driving. Duh,” Lance countered with an attitude mastered purely by Valley girls and entitled customers.

“Yea, Lance it doesn’t come off like that at all. It sounds like you’re gonna fuck him.”

“I’m not.”

ARTISTS (also including Musicians and Modeling)

Photographer
Pretty Boy by MilkTeaMiku (photographer!Keith)
A pretty Spanish boy shoves a bouquet of flowers under his nose and tells him to stop and smell the roses, so Keith does.

Roommates by manamune (photographer!Lance, artist!Keith)
(13:24) Lance: Thank you!! Love you, Keith!!!

(13:55) Keith: I’m screenshotting that for the next time you deny it.

Sight for Sore Eyes by writewild
Photographer!Lance’s deadline for the magazine he works on the side for is coming up really soon, and has to search last-minute photo opportunities soon. One boy catches his eye.

Riptide by songsofthespring (photographer!keith, surfer!Lance)
Keith fumbles with the camera around his neck and lines up a shot. The boy coasting down a wave, one hand kissing the water. Keith zooms in as far as his lens will allow him. Droplets frame the boy’s brown skin and cling to his hair and chest. His eyes, little pinpricks of light from this distance, are nevertheless still recognizably as bright as the ocean itself. It looks like he could be dancing when he rides a wave; every part of his lanky frame seems to merge with the board and the ocean beneath him.

He’s beautiful.

Foreign Scenes  by bwyn
Lance has been dreaming of travelling since the first time he heard stories from his family as a child. Now, having finally the time and money to do it, he goes on a trip to Europe to see some of the most culturally rich cities on the continent. Except he keeps bumping into the same guy over and over again, in random cities, doing stupid shit, and ultimately dragging Lance into his trouble, too.

Basically an AU in which Lance and Keith become impromptu travel buddies and get into trouble.

Artist
7 Days to Fall For You by saiikavon (artist!Keith, ballerina!Lance)

Keith is an art student who mostly keeps to himself, taking note of the beauty in life but keeping his distance from it. This includes the beautiful dancer he sees across the street from his apartment…until a week-long art project pushes him to change that.

(For Klance Secret Santa 2016)

And Now You’re Mine (WIP) by Samyx914 (some artist!Keith)
“No, really. I’ve been thinking about that movie since I got up and that’s the only copy they have and I want it.”

“But, I was faster.”

“But, I want to watch it.” The stranger laughs.

“Well, you could always come home with me to watch it.” He says with a wink.

“Okay.” The stranger’s eyes widen. What the fuck, Keith? No. You don’t go home with strangers… Anymore. 

In which Keith wants to watch a movie, so he goes to find it at Walmart. When there’s only one copy left and someone else picks it up first, his only option is to go home with a stranger. Keith didn’t count on this stranger being so easy to fall for.

Visions by becca2793
"It’s funny, because as a tattoo artist he makes art that lasts pretty much forever – as far as the person who has it is concerned – but a street artist…their art lasts maybe a couple of days.”

Keith comes in for a tattoo; Lance immediately falls in love. With his art. His love for Keith comes later.

Take the Easel Way Out by svensationalist
Oh no, he’s hot, Lance thinks while he’s dying.

(Pidge elbows Lance sharply a little while later. “You’re not dying, dumbass,” they whisper. “Pay attention, the pose started.”)

***

Written for klanceweek day 1, “Red/Blue”. Art class AU where Lance can’t focus because one of the new life drawing models is too attractive.

Cute as Fcuk by anonymouschupacabra
Even though he had never seen the hot guy before in the year that he’d been going to college, it was like the dam had broken, because Lance saw him everywhere. From the sculpture rooms, to the library, to the cafeteria, the guy was everywhere Lance was, and it only made it that much harder to ignore the hot buzzing he felt inside every time he saw him.

Dancers
7 Days to Fall For You by saiikavon (ballerina!Lance) see above ^

i bet you look good on the dance floor by xShieru
“So like in 'Step Up’?”
Allura shrugs. “Now that you put it like that - yes. I guess it’s just like in 'Step Up’.”
The smile that she sends Shiro’s way - followed by a shy wave, eugh - is sickening to say the least, and Lance still doesn’t believe in dance camps

.-

Lance McClain’s dancing career begins and ends with Keith.

Keith just wants to find out what Lance’s deal is.

you raise me up by rhapsodyinpink
“What, you don’t think I look like Patrick Swayze?”

Keith snickers. “Absolutely not. You are Jennifer Grey in this situation.”

“That’s a fair point. Nobody puts me in a corner,” replies Lance, nodding seriously, before his expression turns mischievous.

“So then…are you saying you want to call me Baby?”

Keith flushes red, but stands his ground as he leans in closer. “Are you saying you want me to?”

Shut Up and Dance With Me (WIP) by wittyy_name
Lance and his friends have been regulars at the Altea Dance Studio for years. Not just for classes, but to hang out, practice, and spend time with good people who love dancing. Every year, they audition to be one of the few representing Altea at the regional dance competition. Lance always auditions solo, but this year he misses out on auditions and blows his chance to participate. And so does his self-proclaimed rival, Keith.

Luckily, Shiro comes up with a brilliant plan: convince Lance and Keith to audition as a duo.

With a little convincing, and a lot of effort, these two might just be able to pull it off and go to regionals… or they might crash and burn.

Musicians
That Would Be Alright by icedsonder
And call it spur of the moment, his exacerbated pining over past few months, or even his own alcohol impaired judgment, but Keith let his inhibitions take a backseat as he took a step forward and pressed his forehead against Lance’s to sing his next lines.

“I know I’ll fall in love with you, baby”

Musically Insane by myparadisepalace
It had only taken Lance three days after becoming the blue paladin to realize there were no instruments in the castle. And even if there were, Lance figured they’d be too obscure and strange for him to be able to play.

PROFESSIONS (i.e. cops, doctors, EMTs, waiters)

Soldiers/Assassins/Spies
Counting in Code by DLanaDHZ
There was no one better in the field. The Voltron Force was efficient and deadly, and they took no new recruits. They were hand-picked, and though they didn’t always get along, they were family. Under the stress of a mission, the team counted each other as a way to calm down and focus. But Keith couldn’t count, because counting meant he knew where everyone was, and right now all he had was a pair of bloody dog tags in place of his partner.

blink if you want me by xShieru
He wakes up to Pidge’s face hovering above him. “You gotta stop running into him like this.”
“Dude, he fucking shot me.”
“I know. We saw.”

-

A hitmen AU wherein two thirsty assholes fall for each other and then jeopardize their respective missions because of it.

Retail/Food (waiters/cashiers/clerks)
Melt With You by dumpsterdiva
If you ask Keith what summer means to him, he’ll say shitty weather, a bag of quarters, sticky blue raspberry kisses, and not-quite-midnight sandwiches.

Summer job AU at the pier feat. Keith as a shaved ice slave and Lance as an aquarium camp counselor.

You Dropped a Bomb by quartetship
Lance loved his job.

OR: The Klance LUSH au

Tollbooth Operator
Drive Me Crazy by battleshidge
Keith stared blankly at the tollbooth operator for a moment before trying to stifle a groan. Somehow, he always managed to get the booth with the flirtatious attendant, a lanky brown-haired man with clear blue eyes and a confident grin. It didn’t matter that he changed what lane he went through—at least three times a week on his way home from work, Keith was forced to suffer through the horrendous flirts that this man tossed his way.

Taxi Driver
Finish What You Started by battleshidge
“You were right,” Keith breathed, looking up at Lance with a fire in his eyes. “I did start this,” he lifted his chin, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s jaw. And another. And another. Lance thought it was torture—sweet, sweet torture. And then that challenge sparked in Keith’s eyes again as he asked, tone low and resonant, “Are you going to finish it?”

Pizza Delivery
You Stole a Pizza My Heart by KaSaPe
Keith just wanted a pizza. The cute delivery boy with the weird grin and stupid flirting (?) had other plans.

Or: Keith just doesn’t get Lance’s flirting. At all.

Lifeguards
six foot dive (WIP) by shizuoh
“I’m bisexual,” Lance says.

Keith furrows his eyebrows. “Good… for you?”

“I’d like to buy you a drink,” he starts, and grins, “and then get sexual.”

Keith shoves him into the water.

(or: lance and his family go to california for a two-month vacation. cue hot lifeguard keith gyeong-kogane.)

Lessons by amycoolz and SylviaW1991
Keith has been nothing but a thorn in Lance’s side since the mullet-haired ass first walked into the classroom. But when he decides to get himself shoved into the deep end and, wow, can’t even swim, Lance has to save his pretty self and then Pidge volunteers him to teach Keith how to swim. Great. Just great.

Nurse
Racing Heartbeats and Hospital Bedsheets by screwtodayimsleeping (nurse!Keith)
Me: Hunk
Me: Buddy
Me: emergency!!!!
HunkyBae: what’s up, lance? Are they not letting you out of the hospital yet?
Me: HUNK
Me: the male nurse that took my blood was probably the sexiest person i’ve ever seen
Me: and im literally wearing two sheets as an outfit

BUSINESSES (e.g. Coffeeshop, flower shop, animal shelter)

Office
eyes wide to you with wonder by aknightley
Keith doesn’t dislike his job, but he definitely dislikes Lance. Probably. Maybe.

“Coran thinks you’ll bang at the Christmas party but I think that’s giving you guys way too much credit,” Pidge says thoughtfully. “Hunk is a romantic. He thinks Lance is gonna ask you out any day now. I think he’s got a week or so before he owes me like a hundred bucks.”

“Pidge, what the fuck?” Keith says, flustered. He nudges them again with his foot, this time slightly harder. They scowl at him, swatting him away. “Why would you bet on me and Lance?”
Part 1 of Office AU

Flower Shop
i’ll gift you the stars by Kyoshu_Koi
Flowers and stars. At least they were giving him things he liked.

Cactus by PinkHitman
When Keith moves from the desert in the middle of ass backwards nowhere, to plop in the middle of the big city, he doesn’t expect to instantly grow fond of the tall, endearing, jerk across the street. But it’s hard not to see roses when said person works in a flower shop.

Arcade
got game by warschach
Lance hates his job until the one day he doesn’t.

Bakery
you’re so sweet; will you be mine?  by jojotext
A new bakery pops up right across the street from Lance’s bakery.

In which Lance is an idiot, Keith is an asshole, and Pidge is the next Dr. Phil.

Coffeeshop
nothing’s quite as sweet by dimpleforyourthoughts and thebrotherswinchester
Keith is a barista who hates his job. Lance works at the cat shelter across the street.

SOCIAL MEDIA (Tumblr AU, bloggers, Youtubers, gamers)

Youtubers
you had me at merlot by DJAlien
“Oh my God,” Lance says as he covers his face. Keith’s tinny voice blares from his laptop speakers: “What do you call a fake noodle? An impasta.” See, this joke might have been funny if someone charismatic and charming had said it, but Keith’s flat voice and even flatter expression effectively kidnaps, tortures, and then decapitates any chance of it being remotely humorous.

Keith accidentally starts a YouTube channel. Lance, of course, refuses to be left out. It goes about as well as you’d expect. (Ft. copious amounts of wine and a truly shameless number of references to MyDrunkKitchen, DailyGrace, and general pop culture)

The Boyfriend Tag by theoddpacolypse
Keith and Lance are famous YouTubers, along with the rest of their friends, and though they consider each other “rivals” in some ways, they are actually incredibly close. So close that they are actually dating in secret and constantly dropping hints to their fans, whom desperately want them together.
Part 1 of What Happens on Youtube series

Gamers
Next Level (WIP) by battleshidge
“Dammit, Blue, don’t die on us yet! We only just started!”

Red’s voice snapped in his ears, and Lance cursed under his breath. He tried to backpedal quickly, but being flat on his back with the enemy looming above made for certain movement limitations. On top of that, he was already injured, and he could see the red patch spreading across his thigh. He could really use some of Hunk’s portable healing pods, that was for sure. And that, Lance observed, was a very nasty looking knife that was about to plunge straight through his chest.

Well, shit.

Effect: +100% Love, -100% Logic (WIP) by manamune
In the real world, Lance is barely making it by in his senior year. He’s failing most of his classes and is only one more fuck up away from being kicked off the swim team.

In the virtual reality game Voltron, Lance lives an entirely different life as the internationally-known Blue, an archer with impeccable aim. He’s filthy rich, has a trillion friends, and is a part of the most feared guild in the game.There’s just one problem: he’s madly in love one of his guildmates, Red.

Things begin to go downhill when a kid who acts suspiciously similar to Red transfers to Lance’s school.

Bloggers
a recipe for two by battleshidge
He wondered, briefly, what the look on Lance’s face would be if he actually did say yes.

It’s Mutual (Follow Back Already) by JessicaMDawn
At twenty-four, Keith decides to figure out what this 'tumblr’ thing is. It’s confusing at first, but Keith learns to have fun with it with help from a few new friends. AKA Keith’s adventures on tumblr.

I believe Spencer’s twin is coming.

In this post I want to give a list of reasons why Twincer is my prime suspect as AD. I know a lot of these ‘clues’ come from interviews, but they’re still really convincing for me at least. I’ve definitely missed some of the clues from within the show because they’re not as easy to spot - we need to know for sure if Twincer is happening, then we can dig further. (The fun won’t instantly stop once the finale airs.) But for now, enjoy these, and at the end, I give my theory as to the motive.

Please note: none of this is overly new. This is just the summation of everything we’ve been talking about on my blog for the past couple months. I wanted to put all the ideas into one post, rather than 31529 mini posts scattered here and there. I will be updating this as we find more. 

  1. The famous airport scene from 715.
    We all already think it’s weird that "Spencer" asked Ezra to not tell anyone he saw her there with Wren. What’s weirder, is the fact that Wren and “Spencer” were arguing. Amongst muffle, I heard Spencer say "stop calling me that" (let me know if you heard differently). Did Wren have a slip-of-the-tongue moment and call her Spencer rather than the twin’s real name?
  2. Dr. Cochran’s story is very telling.
    We all already know the ambiguous implication that Mary had more than two babies, because Dr. Cochran said he dealt with “two of Mary’s babies”. What’s more interesting is the second baby he dealt with. The first baby (Charlotte) he gave to Jessica. He said that the second baby that he delivered was placed in family county services. This could not have been Spencer, since Spencer was delivered to Veronica within 5 minutes of birth. So, who was that second baby that was placed in family services? I believe it was Spencer’s twin. Why? Dr Cochran referred to that second baby as “underweight but tenacious” - lo and behold, the next episode, Toby calls Spencer tenacious. This was the writers foreshadowing the similarities between this second baby, and Spencer. Twins. 
  3. We all know Hanna’s ‘dream’ in 701.
    It makes no sense that Hanna was able to dream ‘Spencer’ saying the name A.D. since Hanna was kidnapped before these initials were even revealed. Perhaps Hanna was visited by Twincer; the one holding her captive.
  4. A.D. needs to stand for something. 
    Spencer’s twin could literally have the initials A.D., since we know she would be Mary Drake’s child. Her first name would start with A and the D would stand for Drake. 
  5. Brendan and Ian both confessed to being confused by the identity of A.D.
    They needed the backstory to understand it. Is that because they had no idea who has the name “Alex Drake” (for example) ?
  6. Tyler said before 7B aired that “you’ve never met AD. You kind of have. You’ll know what I mean”.
    This can be interpreted in two ways: you’ve never met Twincer but since you know Spencer, you kind of know who AD is. Or. You’ve seen Twincer over the years, but thought it was Spencer. Either way, Tyler’s comment screams twin-theory to me. This could apply to any twin theory, but in this context, I’m using it for Spencer.
  7. Ian said (0:57) that “fans will be satisfied to a point. Right when it seems it’s gonna be really great, it might do a little [downwards hand motion]”….
    That cheeky smile on Ian’s face when he said “it seems it’s gonna be really great”… what could be greater than a liar being AD? Ian could be referring to the fact that they initially show us Troian under the hoodie, making us think Spencer is AD. Then, after commercial break, they will reveal it’s just her twin, hence the “it might do a little [downwards hand motion]”. We will be satisfied to a point, he said. It’ll start off amazing by thinking it’s Spencer, oh wait, it’s another twin.
  8. Ashley said (0:14) that she didn’t even know the A.D. reveal is possible.
    Because she did not expect a second pair of twins to come along?
  9. “It’s like there are two of you living in this house. You, and you’re evil twin, and we’re not sure who’s coming down to breakfast". 
    said Veronica to Spencer in 423. Foreshadowing at it’s finest.
  10. Spencer doesn’t remember this flashback.
    Was it her twin? And oh how coincidental, that the writers tell us a time Spencer doesn’t remember, in the same scene Veronica makes the above comment about Spencer’s “evil twin”.
  11. “Where are they?”
    said Mary as she entered the Hastings house (flashback from 717). Who is they? The twins? She proceeded to say that Spencer is the only good thing she’s ever made. Maybe Mary knows Spencer’s twin is evil, and is neglecting her. 
  12. “You look very much like your sister. Almost like twins”.
    said Mary to Spencer in 701. The writers wanted us to think that Mary was talking about Spencer and Melissa, since Mary was holding a picture of the half-sisters. But, were the writers, and therefore Mary, hinting towards Twincer? Is Mary being blackmailed/forced (by Peter?) to keep quiet on Twincer, and she had a slip-of-the-tongue moment here?
  13. Marlene is very aware of the Twincer theories.
    Back in 2014 she said that Troian sent her an online fan theory regarding Spencer having a twin who is A. Marlene was blown away by it and she thought it was a very well thought out plan with detailed evidence across the series. Watch from 1:35. Whilst you may be saying “there’s NO WAY Marlene spoilt her own show’s ending in an interview!!” - I feel like she had no idea the show would go on for 7 seasons, and once they got renewed, she panicked. “Shit, we need a new Uber A. Let’s go with that brilliant fan theory Troian sent me”. She probably regrets making this interview now. You can tell her passion for Twincer in this interview. She talks so damn highly of it.
  14. Marlene has said that the person who plays A.D. had known for a while.
    We know that Marlene told Troian the entire ending of the show years in advance. “Just like I had story time with Marlene, you all now get story time with Pretty Little Liars” said Troian.
  15. The girl in the coffin in the opening has the exact same black puffy shirt as Spencer.
  16. Why does it seem that A.D. is always going after the Hastings?
    Why shoot Spencer, out of all the liars? Why demand Aria to plant the audio device in the Hastings? Why not ruin the Marin household? The jealous twin wants her ungrateful sister dead, hence the shooting, and the jealous daughter is angry she never got adopted. Too much of the story is Hastings-oriented. 
  17. “They’re all some pretty. Good. Theories.”
    Was Janel’s response to being asked about the Spencer-twin theories. (22:20)
  18. And, I’ll just leave this here. Good one @prettylittlesessions​ !
  19. “Spencer’s” weird comments in 718.
    In 718 “Spencer” says to Toby “you know what its like to be the outsider. Removed from friends and family”. What made her say this? Nothing was said or done in 718 to prompt our Spencer to say this. 
  20. Keegan said there are no more Spoby kisses in 7B.
    “I can honestly say that there is not another Spoby kiss.” Yet - there was one in 718. Either Keegan lied, or that was Spencer’s twin. (10:15)
  21. “It’s somebody you have seen.”
    says Marlene in regards to who AD is. Was she talking about the Spoby kiss in 710, which Twincer referred to in 718 when she kissed Toby again? Marlene was very careful to avoid saying “it’s someone you KNOW”. We don't “know” Twincer. But, we have seen her.
  22. “That’s not the Spencer I know”
    said Toby in 718. Writers are foreshadowing.

Setting all this aside, I want to add my theory on the backstory and motive:

  • Twincer, who’s name is A_____ Drake, was born in Radley, as Dr. Cochran told us in 7A. 
  • Twincer was raised in Radley - not because she needed to be at a psychological hospital, but as a form of daycare, because Mary was deemed an unfit mother, and also she kept Twincer a secret from Peter… he already hated her (to the point of planning her murder, later on) enough for having one baby together, imagine Peter’s reaction to having twins.
  • There, Twincer met and bonded with her sister Charlotte. Charlotte became Twincer’s only friend. (Twincer might even be Bethany, since we already know of this bond between Bethany and Charlotte, and how Bethany was drawing Charles being taken away by a monster. But for this theory, let’s just forget Bethany for a second.)
  • When Mona came to Radley and started telling Charlotte about everything she did to her sister, Charlotte and Twincer wanted to play. They wanted a turn at harassing Spencer and her friends.
  • For Charlotte, as we know, it was the feeling of finally succeeding at something in life that made the game her drug. For Twincer, it was something far darker.
  • Harassing Aria, Hanna, Emily and Alison is all about driving a wedge between the girls. Twincer wants to break up the girls. Turn them against each other. Hopefully by throwing fire at the girls, they will break up, ultimately, to ruin Spencer’s life. Again, jealousy. Twincer’s plan is backfiring because it’s exactly A’s threats that makes Spencer say “we need each other more than ever” and “always stick together”. The writers keep making the point of SPENCER being the one to make the comments about “always” sticking together. Twincer cannot break Spencer and her bitches. This is fueling Twincer’s anger. Nothing is working.
  • That’s why AD/Twincer recently shot Spencer. “If I can’t break the girls up to ruin Spencer’s life, why not just become Spencer?” Twincer shot Spencer in an attempt to assume her identity and squeeze her way into the loving friendship group that she could never crack. “These girls are so loyal to each other… they don’t even break up after even my threats. Damn, I want to be a part of this. It’s my turn to live a happy life. You had your turn Spencer.”
  • Note: I do not believe that AD has been operating since season 1. Mona’s time as A is completely independent from Charlotte and Twincer’s story. Mona started the game, and now someone is ending it, and she wants to know who. Charlotte and Twincer are their own duo; their own A-team, which stemmed as a result of Mona coming to Radley. Charlotte revealed herself - next up in the A team is Twincer, who is carrying on the game she once played with her sister. 
How the Winter Soldier shot Nick Fury

I’ve been wanting to make a post about this for a while, even though I might be the only person invested in this, but anyway, here we go.

I’ve seen mentioned several times, in posts about the movie and in fics that the Winter Soldier shot Nick Fury through the window of Steve’s apartment, and every time it makes me groan in frustration because no.

The Winter Soldier didn’t shoot Fury through a window, he shot him through a wall, and I don’t know about you, but it seems like a pretty big difference to me.

(bullet hole in the wall!!)

When I saw the scene the first time, I remember thinking holy shit??? that’s crazy, and for me that’s when the Winter Soldier really became a real, terrifyingly good assassin, that’s when his image as a serious threat solidified.

Read about the blogger getting carried away under the read more.

Keep reading

bootsandbosons  asked:

Trying to explain Clint Barton to my friends who don't know marvel (apart from the MCU) proving difficult. Especially because the MCU gave him a wife, kids, and an honest to god farm. Any recommendations on how to describe my favorite character? (So far all of my attempts either lead to rambling about ceiling vents and the circus or hysterical laughing because "successful long term relationship" and "Clint Barton" are in the same sentence. Unsurprisingly this just leads to more confusion.)

Well, the problem begins (as problems often do) with comics.

See, comics are a sort of ‘soap opera with capes and tights.’  Comics are ‘fanfic but written by mostly straight white guys who are chosen by other straight white guys.’  Comics are a never ending arms race of suffering, and that’s the problem.

So it’s hard to pin down a character.  Because it’s not one character.

Every writer wants to make their mark.  They want THEIR version of the character to be the one that people point to and say, “THIS.  THIS is the quintessential Hawkeye.  THIS is the reason I love Hawkeye.”

Because they’re not going to write the character forever.  That’s comics.  There’s always someone right behind them, nipping at their heels, someone who wants nothing more, in most cases, then to sweep their careful work aside and make THEIR mark on the character.

There’s not much you can do to stop that from happening.  You can write a really good book, you can be clever and creative and still not hit the readership the right way.  You can write A GOOD BOOK and you’ll still end up in the trash heap of the 25 cent bin, because the promotion team or the movie schedule or the competitor’s event cycle screwed you over.

It’s much easier to make a lot of noise.  To be remembered, rather than beloved.  To get people tweeting and talking and protesting and fighting, because that means when you tossed off this book, there’ll be another one waiting for you.

Don’t believe me?  I mean, someone keeps giving Nick Spencer new books.  (shrug)

So there is no one Hawkeye.  The Hawkeye of the early West Coast Avengers has little in common with the Hawkeye of Fraction and Aja’s solo book run.  The Hawkeye of the most recent Secret Avengers by Ales Kot would be unrecognizable to the Hawkeye of the Ultimates verse.  Movieverse Hawkeye is almost a mirror image of Hawkeye of Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

When you love a character, the question is, which one?  Because even if you take fandom interpretation and fanon out of the equation, there’s a lot of them to choose from.  And while canon feeds fanon, fanon bleeds back into canon.

Describing the character you love takes some effort, some cherrypicking.

For me, it’s this:

On the surface, he’s ordinary.  And his awareness of his ordinariness is part of what makes him so extraordinary.  He’s raised himself to his current position by sheer force of will and a refusal to stop.  He’s bullheaded and snarky and has a chip on his shoulder the size of the island of Manhattan.  He’s not as stupid as he thinks he is, and he’s not as good as he believes he is, and both of those facts are a little heartbreaking.

He’s a man who destroyed his own hearing, because he knew if he didn’t, he was going to hurt someone he loved.  He’s also a man who entered canon trying to rob Tony Stark, which was universally regarded as a very bad idea, since that’s how a lot of people end up dead.

He’s not a god or a genius or a super soldier.   He is a man who looked at the end of the world, and said, fuck you, I’ve got a COUPLE OF STICKS AND A PIECE OF STRING and I’m still going to KICK YOUR ASS.  There is something comforting about that, for most people.  

We want to believe, after all, that if push came to shove, if things got bad, then we would stand up.  With all the risk, and all the fear, and a very good chance that we would not win, we want to believe, that we would still stand.

So all the other stuff, the ragged ends and the bad choices, the stupid plots and the OOC moments, the embarrassing contradictions in canon and the writers who can’t figure him out or don’t want to bother trying, it melts down to one truth at the core of his character, every time.

He is a man that doesn’t feel too different from you or me.  And he stands.  He makes bad choices, he screws people over, he ruins relationships and cheats on partners and girlfriends, he does stupid, stupid things, because this is a soap opera, and half the writers don’t remember what the last one did and the other half don’t care.

For all the parts of him I don’t like, he’s still my favorite.  Because he shouldn’t be there.  He has no place there.  He’s outgunned and outflanked.  Everyone around him is smarter than him, better trained than him, better equipped than him.

And still he stands.  With a bow.  He stands.

And says, come at me, bro.

kissing-men  asked:

Neil gets hurt and he's on heavy pain meds which make him a chatty Kathy. The first thing he sees when he wakes up is Andrew so he can't help but tell Andrew how pretty he looks and how wonderful he is (of course, all the foxes are standing /right there/) and Andrew's like "if you don't stop talking I'm going to leave" and Neil gives him the dumbest grin and says, "you'd never leave me unless I asked you to. Which I won't."

Yes!!!


When Neil first woke up, he had no idea where he was, but the clinical white of the wall made him think nowhere good. He sat up, trying to assess where he was and what had happened and froze when he saw Andrew at the foot of the bed watching him.

Andrew looked annoyed and grumpy as the sunlight coming in from the window reflected in his eyes. His hair shone gold in this light and Neil felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs. Andrew looked like he had on the bus, only this time Andrew was his to keep. He didn’t have to drink the image in to savour while he still could. Andrew was his and he was so goddamn beautiful and Neil felt a sudden urgency to make sure that Andrew knew how utterly stunning he was.

Neil felt a smile pull at his lips and he watched as Andrew’s brow furrowed in response.

“You are so fucking pretty, Drew,” he murmured.

Snickers from beside him were the first sign that they were not alone. Somehow, Neil couldn’t quite make himself care when he turned and spotted his teammates and Wymack. He was happy to have them there, but he was more interested in Andrew and his perfect grumpy face and his perfect soft hair and his perfect hazel eyes.

“Shut up. Now,” Andrew warned with an edge to his voice.

Neil agreed with Andrew. The Foxes really should stop laughing and whispering to each other. It was distracting.

“How did I not notice how pretty you were from the start?” Neil asked. “It’s distracting. I could stare into your eyes forever. How am I supposed to hold a conversation when-”

“If you don’t stop talking, I’m going to leave,” Andrew warned. His voice wasn’t louder this time, but somehow he sounded more serious, which was ridiculous when Neil knew Andrew would never leave him.

“No, you won’t,” Neil said as he beamed up at Andrew.

“Do not test me,” Andrew warned.

“You’d never leave me unless I asked you to,” Neil argued. “Which I won’t. Ever. You’re my home.”

Andrew scowled back at him and every moment he didn’t leave, Neil’s grin grew even larger.

“We should have been videotaping this,” Allison commented from somewhere at Neil’s side.

Andrew’s focus instantly shifted away from Neil as he warned, “Try to take a video of him high and I will end you.”

“You take such good care of me,” Neil insisted with his eyes still solely focused on Andrew. “You like me.”

“I hate you,” Andrew corrected automatically. “And I wouldn’t have to take care of you if you would stop acting like a complete idiot.”

“You like me,” Neil repeated. “I like that you like me.”

Random questions
  • 1. Do you bite or lick ice cream?
  • 2. What is home to you?
  • 3. What was the last lie you told?
  • 4. Does everyone deserve the truth?
  • 5. What is the creepiest toy ever made?
  • 6. Describe a moment in which you did something unacceptable in a bad situation.
  • 7. List two things that are more easily done than said. (No, I didn't mix them up.)
  • 8. When was the last time you worked really hard to achieve something?
  • 9. How many all nighters have you pulled?
  • 10. If humans didn't evolve to laugh or smile, how would we express our happiness instead?
  • 11. How many romantic "things" or "flings" have you had?
  • 12. What is your paradise?
  • 13. What is your favorite background noise? (Ex. Water dripping, people talking.)
  • 14. How many hearts do you think you have broken?
  • 15. What is the most important thing about electronics? What does this say about you?
  • 16. Why do people care about celebrities? Do you care about celebrities?
  • 17. What is the most annoying thing someone can do to you?
  • 18. Do you overexaggerate? What are the pros and cons of this?
  • 19. Have you played any instruments before? Which instruments?
  • 20. Do you like taking selfies? Why or why not?
  • 21. List 3 things you like about yourself?
  • 22. What is the best advice someone has ever given you?
  • 23. Do you have what it takes to raise a child? Why or why not?
  • 24. How do you cheer yourself up after a bad day?
  • 25. When was the last time you felt awkward?
  • 26. Are you introverted or extroverted? Or a mixture of both?
  • 27. What constitutes a good friend?
  • 28. Would you rather have a lot of friends to hang out with or just one best friend?
  • 29. In a regular day, what do you not want to hear?
  • 30. What is your dream job?
  • 31. Is it better to be lazy but smart or hardworking but unintelligent?
  • 32. What is a truth about yourself that others find hard to believe?
  • 33. What have you always wondered about the other gender?
  • 34. Which fantasy world would you like to visit the most?
  • 35. Describe the worst friend you have ever befriended.
  • 36. Imagine that you have switched bodies with someone you don't know. You can't switch back. What do you do?
  • 37. If you found the recipe for immortality, would you sell it or would you burn it?
  • 38. What is the most important, applicable class you have ever taken?
  • 39. Name the last book you read.
  • 40. Imagine that you are unable to express emotion. How would this affect your world?
  • 41. When was the last time you made the first move?
  • 42. What is your opinion on electronic music such as dubstep or trap?
  • 43. What was the last movie you watched?
  • 44. Do you like and appreciate your life?
  • 45. Do you like and appreciate yourself?
  • 46. When was the last time you cried?
  • 47. What are you scared of?
  • 48. What is the most embarrassing, cringe-worthy thing you have ever done?
  • 49. What are some of your hobbies?
  • 50. What is a superficial yet annoying mistake you constantly make?
  • 51. Are you a good friend? What makes you a good friend? If not, what makes you a bad friend?
  • 52. Do you honestly learn from your mistakes?
  • 53. What have you learned the hard way?
  • 54. What is the most important thing to have in order to attain happiness?
  • 55. Which medium do you use for expressing your artistic emotions? (Singing, writing, etc.)
  • 56. Are you a creative or a logical thinker?
  • 57. What is the smartest thing you have ever done?
  • 58. What is your ideal meal?
  • 59. What is the worst thing someone could do on a date?
  • 60. Do you like animals? Which kind is your favorite?
  • 61. If you could turn one legal thing illegal, what would it be?
  • 62. Do you have any guilty pleasures?
  • 63. What is the best thing that the internet has ever created?
  • 64. Do you like playing video games? Which video games?
  • 65. What is your opinion on beauty in today's society?
  • 66. Are you a morning person? When do you usually wake up?
  • 67. Do you have a favorite Disney movie? Character?
  • 68. Would you rather live in the city or in the countryside?
  • 69. Would you rather live near the ocean or in the mountains?
  • 70. What are the best things about winter?
  • 71. What scares you most about the future?
  • 72. What makes you feel old?
  • 73. How many hours do you spend on the computer or phone on average?
  • 74. What are some of your New Year's resolutions?
  • 75. What is your life story in 6 words?
  • 76. Describe yourself in one word.
  • 77. What bad habits do you do?
  • 78. What genre of music do you listen to?
  • 79. Most prominent childhood memory?
  • 80. Imagine if you had an older brother. If you already have one, what is it like? If you don't, how would this change your life?
  • 81. Spirit animal?
  • 82. Do you believe in horoscopes?
  • 83. What is the worst advice you've ever been given?
  • 84. List the 3 most important people in your life right now.
  • 85. Favorite memory of your family.
  • 86. What do you look for in a relationship?
  • 87. Do you have a role model? Why or why not?
  • 88. What is your opinion on social media?
  • 89. Are you a pessimist or an optimist?
  • 90. List some things that you think are overpriced?
  • 91. What is your worst memory or creepiest experience?
  • 92. What superpower would ruin the world?
  • 93. What is something you swore you would never do when you grew up, but you did anyway?
  • 94. What lessons have you learned from movies and which movies were they?
  • 95. If you could travel anywhere, where would you go?
  • 96. How do you approach people?
  • 97. What is your opinion on first impressions?
  • 98. What are some things you did as a child that you no longer do?
  • 99. What languages can you speak?
  • 100. What do you think society will be like in 30 years?
  • 101. What do you do on your lazy days?
  • 102. What ended your last relationship?
  • 103. Favorite food?
  • 104. What is the most terrifying dream you've ever had?
  • 105. When was the last time you got seriously angry?
  • 106. What was the last friendship you broke?
  • 107. Do you have any pet peeves?
  • 108. Who was the last person you gave a hug to?
  • 109. When was the last time you got seriously stressed?
  • 110. What part of your personality do you want to change?
  • 111. Who is the most positively influential person in your life right now?
  • 112. What is your biggest motivation?
  • 113. What did you want to be when you were little?
  • 114. What are some things that you are good at?
  • 115. What is one thing you want to be good at?
  • 116. What distracts you the most, especially when you're trying to work?
  • 117. How important is privacy to you?
  • 118. If you could create one social norm, what would it be?
  • 119. What's the craziest lie you've ever told?
  • 120. What story do you like to tell about yourself at parties?
  • 121. What is the lamest thing that you have seen someone do?
  • 122. What is the stupidest thing you've done to impress someone?
  • 123. What is your morning routine?
  • 124. What's the last thing you did that is worth remembering?
  • 125. If karma was coming back to you, would it help or hurt you?
  • 126. What is your opinion on playing "hard to get?"
  • 127. What are the pros and cons of straightforward?
  • 128. What do you consider "leading" someone on?
  • 129. Are you the friendzoner or the friendzoned?
  • 130. What do you admire most about your friends?
  • 131. What do you admire most about your family?
  • 132. What is your opinion on "going with the flow?"
  • 133. Do you enjoy talking or listening?
  • 134. When is it time to end a friendship?
  • 135. What is the worst excuse you've ever come up with?
  • 136. If GPA didn't matter, what courses would you have taken?
  • 137. What are your favorite baby names?
  • 138. When was the last time you had a deep conversation with someone?
  • 139. What instantly ruins a conversation?
  • 140. Biggest turn ons and turn on offs.
  • 141. Biggest disappointment.
  • 142. Do you have any self-restraint?
  • 143. When did you last do something outside of your comfort zone?
  • 144. Prized possession(s)?
  • 145. What is your opinion on second chances?
  • 146. Text or call?
  • 147. What do you like about the 21st century?
  • 148. What advice would you give to yourself 5 years ago?
  • 149. How organized are you?
  • 150. Favorite mode of transportation.

Yet another from this long list of prompts, completely unprompted.

Number Twelve: “I’m pregnant.”


The text came in at 7:17am, and in the mean time, Stiles had made his way through four and a half breakdowns, all of them for different reasons.

Number One: Male werewolves could get pregnant, and tying into that:

Number Two: Derek had never found it relevant to their two year relationship to share this fun fact. That didn’t say much as to his thoughts on their future together, which stung.

Number Three: Stiles was going to be a father at twenty-four.

Number Four: Just the night before, with Derek in Argentina visiting Cora, Stiles ate a dinner of Cheetos, plain microwaved hotdogs wrapped in bread, and four beers before passing out on the couch with the tv remote in his hand. He was not ready to be a father.

Number Five (still ongoing, more or less halfway through): They were going to have to move because no amount of corner guards or stupid little outlet plugs could childproof the loft. The door to the kitchen was literally a jagged hole in a brick wall. Stiles caught his shins on it regularly, they were always a mess of scabs and bruises.

Actually his entire body was a mess of scabs and bruises, because that was his life now, had been since sophomore year: fighting off the forces of supernatural evil.

Too bad he couldn’t childproof his life.

Oh god, they were going to have to move out of Beacon Hills. Away from the pack.

Nothing was stable in Beacon Hills, it had been eight years of panic and anxiety and near deaths and actual deaths. They couldn’t bring a baby into their current lives, Stiles wouldn’t even bring an adult into this hellhole. Who was trained in firearms. With combat experience.

Keep reading

I Don't Wanna Live Forever [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: I Don’t Wanna Live Forever
Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader
Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen
Requested: no
Summary: Your family takes an annual trip to the mountains with the Murphy family every year to unwind over the winter break–that being said, Connor Murphy isn’t the sweet kid he used to be, and you’d rather be anywhere else than sharing a room with him for two weeks. However, between your parents, a line of accidents, and a mapless trip in the woods seem determined to bring you together–if you can make it out alive.
Warnings: Connor’s potty mouth | Mentions of drugs, abuse, alcohol, panic attacks, sex trafficking, sex, blood, hospitals | First person reader | face paced/vignette style | not proof read | tenses may change
A/N: Here’s that long ass thing I’ve been working on for weeks and just finished a few minutes ago, ayy. Based entirely off the “Connor hated skiing” line. This is long af with no read more option, sorry :/ Here we go! (THANKS FOR 500+ FOLLOWERS ♡♡♡)


Connor Murphy was a lot of things.

He was stubborn–I’d never seen him admit he was wrong, but I’d definitely seen him throw scrabble pieces across the wooden floor of the cabin, leaving Zoe to scramble red-faced to collect them as he stomped up the oak steps to his room, echoing around the house.

He was annoying–I’d told him once I wasn’t crazy about Iron Maiden, which resulted in the album being on blast for the entirety of the time he drove Zoe and I around the mall in the family’s silver minivan.

He was stoic. He was impatient. He was angry.

I’d begged my parents not to go cabins for winter break. I’d begged them to pick a different mountain range if we were so dead set on skiing. But Mr. Murphy and my mother were business associates, and the last thing she wanted to do was make them feel like we were no longer on good terms–especially because of Connor.

“Larry’s been having an awfully hard time with Connor, sweetheart, you have to understand,” my mother crooned in our rental car, fixing her lip liner as she drove, my father keeping a white knuckled grip on the Jesus handle above his head. “He’s not doing very well in school and he’s been throwing tantrums at home. Poor Cynthia is at her wits end. They’re lucky to have that sweet Zoe, she’s so talented and smart. Poor Connor is jealous and acting out, just try not to rally him up, alright, dear?”

I didn’t dignify her with a response, mostly because I knew she wouldn’t like what I had to say anyway, but also because I knew she wouldn’t care to listen, either. I sighed loudly, watching the snow flurry softly outside the window. It wasn’t fair–here I was in the middle of something so remarkably beautiful, and I’d be shoved in a minivan with the Murphy kids and stuck in the valley town’s 1970s mall with crappy t-shirts and a vape store that Connor would spend all day in.

The cabin was huge, up with a view of the town below, nearly three stories made of solid, stripped oak, in the middle of a winding road with a four percent grade. Half the cabin was supported on beams which plummeted down the mountain face. I’d be lucky to stand on the deck without vomiting, let alone being able to venture into the hot tub.

The Murphy’s minivan was already in the drive, trunk shut, meaning they’d unpacked and I’d be left with whatever miniscule space they’d left for me in the loft area.

“Remember to be nice, sweetheart,” my mother crooned again, fluffing her hair in the mirror and giving me an enthusiastic smile in the rearview. “It’s important! They’re practically family.”

Geez, I was lucky to not have Connor Murphy for a cousin.

Slinging my backpack over my arm and exiting the rental car, I took the liberty to stretch, despite the cold air that stung my cheeks and the snow that fluttered down into my hair. This may very well be the last moment of solitude I had for the entirety of the week, and I was going to revel in it.

A movement caught my eye, suddenly, and I lowered myself off my tiptoes to glance up at the second story window–a curtain fluttered shut. It was most likely Zoe or Connor checking out the commotion that was my father and mother bickering over who carried what into the house, and shutting it once they’d realized I caught them. Feeling vaguely uneasy, I turned just as Larry Murphy, bundled in a parka, burst out of the house to take two suitcases from my father.

It was going to be a long two weeks.

——

Cynthia Murphy made me stand by the kitchen counter as she was stocking the cabinet with neon colored cardboard boxes containing various sugary, pink cereals with marshmallows and prizes inside. The Murphy kids were both picky eaters, I remembered quickly, Connor more so than Zoe.

Mrs. Murphy kept playing with my hair, crowing about how much longer it looked (despite the fact I’d cut it since the last time I’d seen her) and how pretty and grown up I’d become, asking me the usually annoying adult questions (“Any thoughts on schools yet? Oh, Connor can’t decide either! Do you know what you’re going to major in? That’s alright, you’ll figure it out soon!”) It would’ve been annoying, I decided, if and only if she didn’t look so sad all the time, the purple bruising under her eyes visible still underneath the layers of makeup. My mother could say whatever she liked about Cynthia Murphy where her wifely duties were concerned–Mrs. Murphy tried to be a good mother (re: tried, period), and that was more than enough to pass her in my book.

In the background, my parents were settling into the second master bedroom, Larry Murphy yelling at the bottom of the stairs to announce our arrival. I could do without the annual reunion, awkward questions about school. The Murphy kids were tolerable–Zoe definitely more so–but it didn’t mean they had to force us together so artificially.

Zoe skimpered down the stairs first, her soft moccasin boots barely making any sound on the stairs–I was surprised to find her long legs bare, her thighs peeking out beneath a pretty pink chiffon dress, covered by what I hoped to be a faux fur parka. Her pretty auburn hair was curled, pulled back with a polka dot headband I could recognize from her childhood. She was wearing eyeliner, and cotton candy flavored lip gloss I remembered sharing when we were thirteen.

It was such a stark contrast from how I remembered her before. The last I’d seen her she’d been gawky and fifteen with a mouth full of metal and a bra full of kleenex. She was practically grown now, and beautiful–it made me feel slightly subpar in my own blue jeans and blue sweater. Regardless, she smiled brightly and skipped over to me, opening her arms to wrap them around my neck.

“It’s so good to see you!” She exclaimed, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek that shocked me, as well as some others–Larry Murphy’s horrified expression was priceless, and I was convinced Connor put her up to it–but I just laughed and hugged her tightly before letting her go.

“You look so pretty,” I told her with a wry grin, and she just tossed the expression back, nodding with a, “So do you!”

“It’s so good to see you girls are still so close,” my mother tittered, beginning to uncork a glass of wine–we didn’t drink much at my house, but the Murphy’s, I knew, did, and my mother certainly wasn’t going to let that go to waste. “Where’s that sweet boy of yours?”

Larry Murphy at the bottom of the stairs, banging on the oak walls, yelling out, “Connor!” was enough to make both the Murphy women flinch visibly. Zoe still had her arm around my waist as we stared up at the ceiling above us, waiting for the squeak of sneakers on the polished wood.

“Don’t yell.”

Zoe jumped away from me as if she’d been burned, pressing herself against the countertop as if to make herself invisible. Mrs. Murphy, her hand clutched to her chest after the initial nose, fought hard to smile believably. I, myself, had jumped at the unexpected sound–Connor Murphy’s curt tenor clear across the room, no where near the stairs, instead standing the doorway were we had just come from. I couldn't  quite make out his frame from here–there was a line of bodies blocking my view, my parents, Mrs. Murphy, and Zoe all formed a human barrier that constructed the divide between Connor and I. Fine by me.

“There you are!” Mrs. Murphy chirped, clearly still nervous, visibly by her shaking voice and hands, fluffing her hair to give her something to do. “You didn’t miss much, Connor, they’ve just arrived.”

My mother said something unintelligent in way of greeting, to which Conner didn’t reply, just shut the door carefully behind him to keep out the cold air. I couldn’t see his face from here, but I could make out that he was much too still for a teenage boy, much too quiet.

“–You remember her, don’t you, Connor?”

My throat closed up as the Red Sea parted, everyone’s heads turning to look between the two of us.

He didn’t move from the doormat–boots  caked in snow, as if he’d gone for a walk, and the bottoms of his skinny jeans were muddy and slick looking. Still, he didn’t shiver, which was slightly unnerving. He was skinnier than I remembered, like he hadn’t been eating, and his face was all angles. He slouched, his pink mouth which was mottled red from the cold was set in a heavy frown. His eyes, which were scanning somewhere around my waist and hadn’t come anywhere near making eye contact since he’d seen me, had blown pupils. Drugs. He was doing drugs in the middle of the afternoon.

He hadn’t cut his hair since I’d seen him last, brown curls poking out of the bottom of a black sock toboggan with a soft pompom on top. It could’ve been funny, I supposed, his rough puberty finishing to leave him left over with this, something akin to a drugged out vogue model who listened to way too much 2008 Fall Out Boy, if he didn’t seem so…unnervingly somber for someone who clearly wasn’t sober. Geez, this kid was a school shooter in the making.

I glanced back up to find him finally staring at my face, shooting an uncomfortable alertness down my spine. His eyebrows were crooked in vague amusement that didn’t seem to reach his mouth, and I felt my face heat up under his scrutiny. If he was trying to intimidate me, it wouldn’t work. I wasn’t scared of boys like him.

“Yeah, I remember her,” he grinned mirthlessly, stuffing his hands into the gut pocket of his hoodie, giving me a nod that, while meant to appease our parents, also felt like a vague threat. I didn’t smile back.

“Great! Wanna show her the room?”

Connor grinned crookedly. “Follow me, kid.”

——

The upstairs layout was just like I remembered  it–Two rooms, one main one in the first entrance with a king bed tucked in the corner, a TV and a few gaming systems with some furniture in the front, a bathroom with two doors which lead through to the other room, which held the fold out couch and television I was accustomed to using.

The Murphy kids already had their belongs strewn about the room–Zoe’s stuff animals and princess blankets eclipsing most of the bed and an ancient Nintendo DS on the table with SpongeBob stickers on the cover that I’m sure belonged to Connor–and it left me very little room to maneuver through.

Connor was silent as he lead me up, as if I didn’t know the way, but surprised me by stopping in front of the king bed, holding out his arms to signal me.

“Your room, my lady.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “This–this is your bed.”

“Not this year. Dad’s decided it’s a little too Flowers In the Attic for Zoe and I to share a bed this year–I’m on the pull out and you girls get to have your fun.” He shot me a bitter smile to let me know he wasn’t thrilled about having the pull-out–he shouldn’t be, the thing was total garbage–but surely he’d enjoy the privacy of it?

“I don’t care to take the pull-out,” I told him, keeping my bag on my shoulder despite the fact it was beginning to be painfully heavy. “If you wanna–”

“Don’t have a choice,” he said, already turning toward the bathroom to walk to his half of the loft. “The bed’s yours.”

——

So, Connor Murphy had turned out to be a total dick. It should’ve unsurprising information, I knew, but part of me still remembered him as a charismatic kid I was, at one point, friends with. Back when the three of us all slept in the king bed, before any of us ever had a zit, when we’d fall asleep in the floor watching early 1990s Pokémon episodes, because Larry Murphy didn’t like them watching it.

Even the Connor I remembered at fourteen, gangly and silent and shy with close-cropped hair felt better than this. I was past uncomfortable, sitting stiffly between he and Zoe on one of the couches in the living room. There was a faux fur blanket hanging behind us, shedding hairs onto Connor’s black jacket, which would’ve been funny if he wasn’t picking at his nails with a slightly rusted pocket knife–I notice he’d painted them, which I oddly admired. I’d kissed a boy earlier this year who painted his nails, and his palms were always soft when he’d reach up to cup my cheeks. It softened Connor in my head, just slightly.

He was careful, I saw, to stay on his side of the couch, leaning into the apex of the arm and the back of the couch rather  than flush with me, his thin legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle to avoid me. I appreciated it, but it didn’t stop me from leaning forward, my elbows on my knees, sitting on the edge of the cushion. I could still feel warmth radiating from him–it was late, and I was tired with a full stomach. If I wasn’t careful, I’d fall right into him, and he’d never let me live that down.

Zoe practically was asleep, leaning forward as well with her head on my shoulder. Cynthia had let her have nearly two glasses of wine at dinner–not enough to get her drunk, but it didn’t change the fact Zoe was still lithe and young, and easily tipsy.

We’d all gone into town for a very awkward dinner–I was just thankful to be placed between my father and Zoe, in a position on the opposite end of the table from Connor, who was stuck in between Larry and Cynthia, looking as if he were in a permanent time out.

Now we were gathered around the coffee table in the cabin, the seven of us hunched over a tiny photo album that I couldn’t really make out from here. There were fuzzy polaroids of us as children, looking nothing like we did now. Connor and I at six, soaked from romping in a sprinkler. Zoe and Connor sharing a chocolate icecream cone, their faces covered in the brown spatter.

“You were all so small,” Mrs. Murphy crowed with a choked voice, covering half her face with her hand in a faux attempt to eclipse the emotion. “Oh, I miss it. You kids used to spend so much time together! Now we only get together for break, and Zoe is so busy there’s hardly enough time for her to spend quality time with her sweet brother.”

Zoe snorted loudly, earning a glare from Mr. Murphy I was positive I wasn’t supposed to see. I snuck a glance at Connor, whose face betrayed no emotion, just staring blankly ahead in the direction of the album. From his position, I was positive he couldn’t see more than the chipped leather cover of the book. Even if he leaned forward, he wouldn’t have been able to see much.

My mother and Mrs. Murphy went out in loud voices in a seamless attempt to pretend the seemingly secret interaction had taken place, so, while the focus was shifted, I turned my attention to Connor.

He didn’t cock an eyebrow this time when he caught me staring, instead just furrowed his eyebrows and looked at me, as if he expected me to speak.

“Can you see?” I asked, nodding my head in the direction of the book.

“I’m fine,” he said immediately–vaguely irritating, I’d admit, but nonetheless understandable. I was sure Cynthia Murphy had spent most of her life making sure Connor was comfortable at all times. Still, this was my olive branch, in an attempt to make this trip a little more tolerable, and Zoe seemed less than likely to console her brother at this point.

“We can change seats, I’m not really looking,” I promised, sitting forward more in my seat to show that I was ready to make the change.

“I’m fi–”

Connor was cut off by a squeal from his mother, who had tossed the book into our laps. It had taken a great deal of squinting, letting my heartbeat slow before I realized she’d been showing us something and not trying to kill some giant bug between us.

The polaroid was grainy, an ivory hue that whitewashed the photo and the years of existence made the picture hard to decipher at first, especially when we were so tired. The time stamp was from the late nineties, glowing yellow in the corner of the frame. I recognized the gilded tub from upstairs that dominated half the bathroom, big enough for three adults easily.

Connor threw to book onto my lap first, like it had scalded him. I should’ve done the same, but it took me a moment. To see, to adjust, to read and understand what was so socially condemning about the photo.

It was Connor, I realized first, small and tanned with bony ribs and chunky fingers and the apples of his cheeks straining against his baby skin. His hair was cropped so short, it looked almost silly. Beside him was me, my hair wild and tangled, curled as if my mother had teased it for dinner. My wide eyes were blazing, much too big for my face, and I was grinning with wet lips at the camera.

We were in the tub, surrounded by big pink bubbles.

We were very, very naked.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal–not really, unless you counted the fact that if this had been printed, our parents would be arrested for child porn. I was mostly covered, sitting beside Connor, my shoulders hunched forward. But Connor was standing, meaning the camera got a very decent view of–

“What the fuck, Mom!” He screaming, standing and ripping the book off my lap. Cynthia’s tittering died immediately, the hands covering her laughed instead covered her horrified face.

This was how it started, I realized.

“It’s not fucking funny,” he growled, tossing the book across the room, banging against the wooden wall with a heavy whomp.  

“That’s enough, Connor,” Larry Murphy growled low in his throat. Cynthia’s head was downcast, her eyes wide and wet. I recognized the emotion immediately–she shut down with conflict the same way Connor did.

“You don’t get to laugh at me for shits and giggles this whole trip,” Connor said, already lunging up the stairs, his hands shaking. “If I wanted to feel shitty, I’d have a conversation with you.”

So much for having a quiet trip.
——
Zoe wasn’t quiet in her gossip about Connor–his door was fashioned shut, I saw, and I doubt he’d come out for the rest of the night. I was positive he could hear his sister’s loud comments from our room.

“Sorry, he’s such an ass,” Zoe groaned, stretching on the bed, her little lilac nightgown shifting across her thighs. “I think his high is wearing off or something–don’t let it bug you. You don’t have to be nice to him, by the way. I’m not gonna let him hurt you.”

I shrugged, noncommittal. “We were friends once. I’m not gonna be mean, he’s never done anything to me.”

Zoe snorted. “You didn’t just see that? He’s a monster, and it gets worse.”

“He just has a temper. Everyone gets like that sometimes.”

I wasn’t sure why I was defending Connor–half because I didn’t want Zoe to tell Connor I disliked him, then he’d actively terrorize me–half because I had no idea why Connor Murphy was so pissed off. It was just a picture. Yeah, embarrassing, I’ll admit I wasn’t too thrilled about eighteen year old Connor Murphy seeing my nipples, and I’ll admit he definitely had the worst end of the stick.

“He loses his shit like that all the time,” Zoe said. “It’s not just a temper.”

“He’s your brother, Zoe,” I reminded gently, brushing out my hair in the bathroom mirror. “Can’t you give him the benefit of the doubt?”

“He’s no brother of mine,” she whispered, rolling over on the bed and clicking off the light.

——

The next few days passed as the usually did–the adults going places without us, albeit romantic and boring, and leaving the three of us to wander about the town below the mountain crests. It was Zoe’s turn to pick the day’s activity, and she’d chosen the mall.

The place was all dark oak, and hadn’t been remodeled since the late seventies at the earliest. Zoe was chipper, balancing a bag of organic soap and bath bombs on her lap that she’d bought at a local shop, pouring over the cheese fries between us on a plastic red tray.

Connor had also been well-behaved since his outburst several days ago, albeit quiet. He’d separated from us the second we’d arrived, holed out in some record store. Zoe was thrilled to be rid of him, and very vocal about it. I was bored out of my mind.

“Don’t look now,” Zoe said brightly, despite her face suddenly shifting into a mask of disinterest. She bit down on her lip, covered in a pink glitter lipgloss she’d applied much too liberally, and pulled on her pretty auburn braid. “There’s some boys two tables behind us checking you out.”

I felt my face get hot. “You’re lying.”

“Nuh-uh,” Zoe said, leaning into take a sip of her milkshake, biting down on the straw–the look on her face told me she’d got their attention.

“How old are they?” I hissed. The last thing we needed were some creeps following us around the mall–this was how sex trafficking started. Surely Zoe knew that this was a huge red flag.

It was clear from her overzealous wave she didn’t.

I felt a hand on the back of my chair before I saw them–to Zoe’s credit, they were pretty. Both in thick denim blue jeans, both in letterman jackets over white tee-shirts. One was tall, skinny, with pretty dark skin and hair cropped close to his head. The other was a little thicker, pale and short, in badly need from a shave. They were smiling brightly at the two of us in a way that was less awestruck and more closely resembled a triumphant conquest.

“Hello, ladies,” the shorter man greeted, grinning like a shark between Zoe and I. His hair was dark, curling around his temples–handsome, maybe my age, maybe ten years older. It was impossible to tell. There were lines around his eyes that either indicated he smiled too much or was simply older. “What are two cute girls like you doing inside on a day like this–the ski lift is just a walk down the road.”

“We’re here shopping with our brother,” I said immediately, giving a grin. The taller boy quirked his eyebrows at me–his eyes, I noticed, were dark with tawny flecks hidden in them.

“That’s cool,” he said to me, switching places so that the other boy could be closer to Zoe. They both pulled chairs up to our table, facing us. My stomach pinched uncomfortably. “Where’s he at?”

“Nike,” I lied, seeing the sign from the distance and knowing very well that Hot Topic, while probably true, didn’t exactly invoke fear.

“Ah,” he said with a grin, his eyes glancing down at my bare arm with a grin. With two slim fingers, he reached forward to pluck at my woven bracelet Zoe had made me a few nights ago, my name in block letter strung across the twine. His hands were uncomfortably hot, and I drew my arm back into my lap. “Aren’t you cold?” He nodded to my bare arms. I’d left my flannel with Connor, who was sitting on a bench at the time–I hoped he remembered to grab it. I was just wearing a striped cotton tee right now, and my arm had broken out in a case of goosebumps, though I wasn’t sure it was from the cold.

“I’m fine,” I said, careful not to meet his gaze. He was pretty, and if I wasn’t careful, I might end up going somewhere with this guy.

“You know,” he began, and I could hear his grin turn predatory. “You’re very pretty.”

A jolt shot down my spine–I wasn’t pretty, not really, which terrified me. I could hear what the other boy was whispering to Zoe, but I could tell that all the stars were gone from her eyes. She looked pale, panicked. These weren’t the kind of boys we needed to hanging around with.

“I know,” I said quickly. “We really need to call our brother–”

“I think he can wait long enough for me to get your number, right?”

Across the table Zoe laughed, too loudly, pushing back and standing from her chair. She was grinning at the dark haired boy, beckoning her to follow with a jerk of her chin.

“Zoe–”

“We’re gonna run to get some coffee, okay? Connor should be back soon, don’t wait up.”

She didn’t meet my heavy glare for long, and didn’t turn around when I yelled her name. I watched in silent horror as the boy put his hand flush with her lower back.

I was alone.

The panic crept onto the back of my neck long before his thin fingers did. He smelled like cinnamon, strongly, like he’d done one too many sprays with his cologne that morning. When I turned to face him, his tawny eyes were asking.

“Is this the part where you say you’ve got a boyfriend?” He grinned, his teeth blindingly bright in his tan face. He was so close I could see the threads on the collar of his letterman jacket–it looked soft.

There was a possibility, I realized, that they weren’t dangerous. That I was just being paranoid–Zoe wasn’t stupid, and she wouldn’t go off with a strange boy unless she was sure it was safe. Still, they were definitely in college.

And boy, were they pretty.

“I do have a boyfriend, actually,” I said, lifting my chin to meet his gaze so he wouldn’t think I was lying. There was a small voice in the back of my head, screaming, raised on her tip toes that I should just take this plunge–let him hold my hand or kiss him or whatever he wanted to do, because this was a shitty trip and I deserved to be as reckless as the Murphy kids were allowed. I didn’t see a reason why I shouldn’t.

Besides, you know, the obvious.

He quirked an eyebrow. “You have a boyfriend?” He asked, biting back a smirk. I felt the voice in the back of my head get sucker punched by my ego. So, he didn’t think I was pretty after all. Which meant he was dangerous.

Which meant Zoe was in trouble.

“Yes,” I growled, standing, yelping a bit when his hand snaked up to grab at my wrist, nearly breaking my bracelet and keeping me bent over the table.

“Let go,” I hissed–the food court was nearly deserted, and the family in the corner was carefully avoiding my eyes. I wasn’t sure I had the voice to scream.

“I don’t believe you have a boyfriend.”

“Let go, or I’ll scream,” I warned, yanking on my arm. He let go immediately, holding his hand high above his head, which I knew was meant as a gesture of calm, but instead looked an awful lot like he intended to strike me.

“Where’s your boyfriend, then?” He taunted loudly, thrilled to see no one in the court coming to my aid. I felt sick, the panic rising in my chest. Where was Zoe? She was in trouble. I was in trouble. I was going to have to scream–

“He’s right here.”

My arm flailed, immediately cocking back in an attempt to elbow in the stomach whoever had wrapped their arm around my neck, their other spidery hand snaking just slightly under the hem of my t-shirt to splay across my hip, finger tips barely brushing my skin above my jeans. The arms were strong, vice like, pressing me against a hard body, and suddenly I felt limp, panic leaving me as I realized whose familiar smell I was enveloped in.

Hair grazed across my cheekbone, and I could make out the dark locks if I looked out the corner of my eye, and I nearly yelped when I felt lips press chastely against my temple.

I couldn’t make out much of the boy anymore, my eyes level with Connor’s adams apple from where he was pressing me against him.

“Babe,” Connor said cooly, calmly, making my knees knock against his. “Who’s this?”

“H-he’s leaving,” I managed to stutter out, barely a whisper, my voice hoarse. I sounded terrified. No wonder this ass in the letterman jacket hadn’t be intimated by me, I sounded about as frightening as a kitten. Connor pressed his fingers against the nape of my neck, tilting my head against his jugular so that I couldn’t see anything but the pale column of his throat and his dark hair. It was getting difficult to breathe–I felt sick. He moved his hand to wrap around my waist, yanking me tightly to him.

“You heard her,” Connor said, again stoic–half of me wished I could see his face, but the other half knew it would be terrifying. Connor’s temper was legendary and destructive–to see him so angry wouldn’t make the fist in my gut unclench. “Go. Take your friend with you.”

There was a beat of silence. Then two. I couldn’t hear much but my own shaky breathing, warm and wet against Connor’s neck, his hair making the space much too hot. I wasn’t aware I had knotted my fingers into his shirt until he started walking, dragging my stumbling form forward with him. He was going fast, too fast for me to keep up, and my chest could only rise so far before deflating painfully.

“You gotta breathe,” he grunted, one of his arms still around me. His face felt hot against me.

“Z-zoe!” I choked out, realizing I had no idea where she was. She could still be with that boy, be in danger–

“Oh, Christ,” he exclaimed bitterly, letting go and beginning to trudge forward. I was terrified briefly, suddenly overwhelmed with the fact I didn’t know where I was. There was a Game Stop, and a Victoria’s secret, the neon lighting combined with the screaming toddlers and the kissing teens and Connor was leaving

An arm swept up from behind me, leading me just as quickly, mumbling something I couldn’t make out into my ear.

“Zoe!” I grinned, immediately feeling safer, feeling my fear melt away just smidgen in my gut.

“I’m so so sorry I left,” she sobbed. “I went looking for a cop, but I found Connor first and I told him you were in trouble–”

“It’s fine,” I said immediately, surprised that my voice was no longer wet. “Thanks, Zoe.”

I was calm, or, at least calmer by the time we reached the van. Connor was waiting by the passenger side door, which was opened, leaning against a scratch in the silver paint. He wasn’t looking at us, instead appearing to observe the silver snowflakes as they fell.

My reflection in the side mirror revealed my face was red and blotchy, not just from the cold wind. I felt gross–guilty for the fact I hadn’t been able to defend myself and Zoe, guilty for the fact Connor Murphy was the one who had to come to my rescue, and guilty for the fact I’d cried all over him. His zipped up hoodie seemed to have escaped the mess, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel awful. 

He stepped out of the way when I made it close, gesturing for me to get in the passenger side door while glaring at the ground. I was only vaguely surprised, and followed along immediately. Zoe and I almost always rode together in the back. I let Connor shut the door, ignoring the disgusted look Zoe gave as she got into the back.

Connor hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, surprising me with a costume change, reappearing in only a forest green tee. He held out his hoodie to me, balled up in one of his fists without looking at me, before just tossing it into my lap.

“I–”

“I left your flannel in the back. Put that on or you’ll freeze.”

He licked his lips, staring coldly out the front window, before starting the car. I swallowed. Yeah, he definitely hated me.

“Okay.”

——

“You’re sure you’re alright, honey?” My mother asked for the third time. Her hair was tied up, her pink bathrobe covering little of her cleavage and bare legs. She was cradling a wine bottle in her hands, looking at me in faux concern.

I gave her a soft smile. “I’m fine,” I lied. I’d calmed considerately. Connor and Zoe had both agreed I needed to shower to wash off the panicked look on my face–I’d asked them to keep the days happenings a secret. They’d reluctantly agreed.

She gave me a clipped smile. “Maybe you should go to bed early, yeah? That’s what I plan to do.”

I nodded, scratching at my bare leg. I’d taken advantage of Zoe’s absense and changed into boxer shorts and an oversized tee with a kitten on the front–she and Cynthia had headed into town for the night, spending the night at a spa and would be gone for a few days, and my father had taken his annual ‘me time’ and booked a hotel downtown to do his own thing. I think Mr. Murphy went with him, but regardless, he was out of the house. It was just me and my mother.

And Connor. I tried not to think about it. I planned on offering him the big bed tonight, in way of thanking him for today, but we hadn’t spoken much since the incident and I felt…odd. Unsure how to thank him. Unsure why he helped.

I supposed the Murphy men were just gentlemen, even under all that teen angst.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m probably gonna sit out on the balcony and then head to bed.”

She grinned. “Don’t stay out too late, it’s almost down to single digits, dear.”

I just nodded, sliding off the countertop, and slinking upstairs. I was surprised to see Connor sitting on the bed. I grinned.

He looked different, to say the least. He was still without his jacket, wearing only his tee and jeans, and little pair of socks with stars on them, which did seem a little out of character, but I assumed Cynthia bought them. His head perked when he saw me, simply craning his neck, keeping his shoulders bowed forward over his body.

He looked small, I realized. He didn’t look like a boy who punched holes in walls or scared off very big very scary men in shopping mall food courts. He looked like a vogue model with a little too much innocence.

He gave me a grin with no teeth, and it didn’t quite meet his eyes, but I gave him a sheepish smile back.

“Hey,” I greeted, tugging on my top to cover my shorts a little better–Connor Murphy didn’t have any interest in seeing my thighs. Despite all the panic, I’d been playing over and over in my head the comment the boy in the mall had made, incredulous that I had a boyfriend. It was silly to let it sting me, considering he probably wanted to stuff me in a van, but it crippled me nonetheless.

“Hey,” he greeted back, not rising from the bed.  I waited for him to speak again, and when he said nothing, I continued.

“I, uh, meant to say, since Zoe’s gone, you can have the big bed like good old times.”

He frowned. “I don’t need the bed.”

“I don’t either,” I promised, leaning against the banister. “Plus,” I sighed, scratching at the back of my head. “I’m not entirely sure how to thank you for today. I’d probably be selling for a low ball price on the dark web right now, if it wasn’t for you. So, thanks.”

Connor was still frowning. “You’ve had a really rough day. You should take the bed.”

“No,” I insisted, beginning to get frustrated. “I’m really okay, I promise. I can’t give you anything else, take the bed.”

His dark eyebrows knit together quickly, licking his lips again nervously. “I don’t–”

“Plus,” I cut him off again with a curt laugh. “I owe you for your Oscar performance. That was crazy, you know. I can’t believe you fooled him into thinking a guy like you would be with a girl like me.”

His head snapped up. “A guy like me?” He reiterated coldly. I felt my face grow hot.

“You know,” I said quietly.

“Know what?”

“That you’re cool,” I muttered. “And nice looking. And I’m not.”

I was thankful for the warm lighting in the room, concealing my red face. It was already dark out, the blinds drawn tightly. Connor’s fists clenched in the white lace comforter on the bed. I didn’t want him to feel bad for me, and I sort of regretted saying it. Connor had already seen me blubbering today and he didn’t need my shitty teen angst to deal with.

He bit down on his lower lip, staring coldly at the ground before murmuring, “I need a shower. Take the bed.”

I shook my head. “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

He just nodded, rising from the bed. “Don’t get too far. It’s cold out.”

Connor shut the bathroom door behind him, and I was left feeling like a total idiot. I could hear the shower running before I left, snagging Connor’s grey jacket from my bed post and sliding it on. I went down the stairs, sliding out the first door to the outside, stepping out onto the first floor balcony. I made a mental note to the shut the blinds later, before walking around to the front of the cabin.

I should’ve been thrilled to be alive, I realized, snorting at how melodramatic that sounded. Still, as I burrowed deeper into Connor’s jacket, watching my thighs turn red from the cold, I realized that I was shrouded in a veil of melancholy I wouldn’t be able to shake off.

I missed Connor. I missed being his friend. I missed him coming over for play dates when we were kids, gauzy fairy wings strapped to our backs, jumping on a trampoline when Zoe was still to young to participate. I missed writing him letters, like a pen pal, despite the fact he only lived on the opposite side of town. Going to different schools hadn’t deterred us, for a while, at least. We had sleepovers every birthday, and Zoe told the best scary stories. I remembered hiding under Connor’s bed with him, a hand clasped over my mouth so Zoe wouldn’t hear our breathing.

I remembered kissing him when we were in kindergarten, ridiculously late at night, a quick smack on the lips during a game of pretend. I’d kissed Zoe, too, when we were probably much too old for it, but thinking of Connor tugged on my chest.

It stopped as we turned twelve, I realized. I never saw him–he was still playing little league, and I stopped coming to his games to pick dandelions with Zoe. He was beginning to get teased. My parents insisted the slumber parties should stop, we were too old. Every time Connor and I were together at birthdays or Christmas parties, adults would joke about when we’d fall in love, how soon would it be before we got married. We avoided each other like the plague, unless we knew we could be alone. And we were never alone.

Connor hid inside himself. Zoe made fun of him at parties, loudly. I kept quiet.

He stopped calling during the summer months. He never rode his bike by my house. The only time I saw Connor Murphy was the annual ski trip.

I missed him. He’d been a childhood friend, and I’d let him go without a second thought to save myself some shred of dignity, like it wouldn’t be ripped away from me regardless.

Connor Murphy was nothing to be ashamed of.

And now it was too late to be his friend.

It had started to snow again, so I wiped my face and rose, walking the opposite way I had come, skirting the stairs–they led to the upstairs, but only to Connor’s room, and I didn’t plan to barge in uninvited, especially if he was still in the shower, two rooms blocked me from getting to the king bed, so I’d have to walk all the way around the house.

The lights were out, I saw, but again no one had bothered to close the blinds. The television might have been on, a dim blue glow resounding onto the leather couch–

I froze.

As it turned out, my mother hadn’t gone to bed. The television was on, showing some late show with some old white man making cracks about some politician I didn’t care for, casting the blue haze onto the coffee table, revealing the wine bottle my mother had been cradling. Two empty glasses sat on the table–my mother’s bathrobe crinkled on the floor.

I was disgusted in a comedic way, just for a moment, to see my mother in her nightgown kissing my father, who my brain had filled in under the assumption he’d arrived back.

I’d begun backing up to the stairs, Connor Murphy’s naked body be damned, when I realized my father’s car had never pulled up, and I’d been on the front porch the whole time.

A better look in the window revealed a man a little older, a little more gray and a little more handsome than my father.

I was sprinting by the time Larry Murphy had begun to peel his shirt off his back.

I didn’t knock by the time I’d made it to Connor’s room, just threw open the door, struggling to get my breathing under control. I stumbled to the pull out couch, dragging the sheets up around my freezing legs. I was in shock, I knew, and I needed to calm down before Connor came in–the bathroom door was shut, but I couldn’t hear the shower anymore, despite the steady trickle of steam coming through the cracks. I was trapped in this room until Connor came out.

My mother was cheating on my father Larry Murphy. Larry Murphy was cheating on his wife with my mother. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t believe it, I had to have made it up, this had to be a dream–

“What are you doing in here?”

It was an exclamation, alarmed, grasping a towel tight with thin white knuckles.

Connor. Connor in a towel. Connor wet with slick hair and chest hair and navel and hip bones. Connor Murphy, son of Larry Murphy, who had his tongue down my mom’s throat–

“Hey, breathe, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

By the time my eyes snapped back into focus, Connor was struggling to pull on grey basketball shorts without dropping his towel, and I dropped my gaze back to my shaking hands, almost startlingly red from the temperature change and what was most likely shock. I was hyperventilating, struggling to smother the sobs. I knew this deep in the house, they probably wouldn’t hear me–they were most definitely preoccupied anyway. 

The bed dipped, and Connor’s bare side brushed my thigh. I didn’t mean to jerk back, but I did, clinging to the arm of the couch and staring horrified–Connor looked almost hurt, but mostly panicked. I tried to calm down, for his sake.

“S-sorry!” I sobbed. “Sorry! I-I-I didn’t mean–I didn’t mean–I didn’t–I–”

“Hey, stop, breathe. You gotta breathe. Go slow, okay? Stop tryna talk,” he commanded, holding up his hands to show he wasn’t gonna hurt me, readjusting so that he sat up on his knees, leaning  over me to take my hands, rubbing them between his own despite the claminess.

I avoided his eyes, focusing instead on the dip of his collar bone, surprised to see thin lines of chest hair, wet and plastered to his chest. He was skinny, and I could see his ribs despite the tiny stomach roll from where he folded in the middle. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles across the backs of my hands, and for a moment, I didn’t think. I could’ve forgotten everything and fallen asleep right here with him.

He pulled my hands against his chest, cradling mine in his own, pulling me forward, asking with his slate eyes if it was alright.

I pretended we were friends.

“You wanna talk about that?” He asked very softly, looking down at where our hands were clasped against him–he was warm, his skin pink and hot from the shower. He’d combed his hair back out of his face, and it was almost cute like that. “If it’s about today, I promise you’re safe, alright? I wasn’t gonna let that guy hurt you.”

My heart sunk in my chest, nearly restarting my panic attack. I shook my head.

Connor deserved to know.

I was scared, briefly, that it would set him off. He might yell at me, throw things, kick me out of the room. He might hit me.

I didn’t care. He had a right to know.

I swallowed thickly, shaking my head. “N-no.”

“Did something happen on your walk? Are you okay?”

I shook my head.

“What? Trouble back home–your boyfriend break up with you or something?”

“My mom–” I started, voice breaking, feeling fresh tears of shock on my cheeks.

His eyebrows furrowed, tightening his grip on my hands. “Is she okay? She–”

I saw it in slow motion–his jaw unclenched, eyebrows relaxing from their set, pouted mouth turning down. It was calm. It was knowing.

“You saw them,” he said very softly, letting my hands fall back into his lap. I was too shocked to move them away from his thighs.

“You knew,” I spat–an accusation. I hadn’t meant to make it one.

Connor scrubbed at his eyes roughly, flopping onto his back against the bed. Frustrated.

“I was tired of my dad reading my fucking emails, so I hacked into his–I only saw a few. I didn’t want to see anymore.”

I paled, feeling nauseous. “So it’s happened before?” I choked.

He swallowed. “That was two summers ago.”

“Fuck,” I hissed uncharacteristically, surprised to find Connor stretching out an arm to me. I took his hand with a firm grip. “How long before then.”

He shrugged. “Maybe our whole lives. Maybe before. I’m not sure, angel.”

I nodded, secretly pleased that he was so calm. It kept me level, grounded, watching where our hands were linked.

“What do we do?” I choked. “I have to tell my dad. He deserves to know.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “Everything would change. He’d tell my mom.”

I bit down on my lip, folding down onto my back to lay down beside Connor. “I hadn’t considered that.”

Connor sighed, scratching at my hand tenderly with his black painted nails. “I’m not sure that my mom and Zoe could handle the news–it’s not like they’d turn to me. They’d be alone. Zoe might even take my dad’s side.”

I groaned, stealing my hands to scrub at my eyes. My wet hair was beginning to dry in a tangled mess.

“This is too much,” I mumbled, rolling onto my side to face Connor, staring at his bare, freckled shoulder. “I don’t know what to do. If I can do anything.”

I jumped a foot out of my skin when he placed a hand at the corner of my jaw, brushing the tangled hair back out of my face. “You don’t have to think about it right now. You’ve had a really long fucking day. You should sleep.”

I didn’t want to sleep–I didn’t want Connor to leave. I didn’t know how to say that.

I couldn’t believe that everyone had tried to desperately to convince me Connor Murphy was a bad boy–fuck them, Connor Murphy was good. He was better than everyone in this cabin combined.

He cared about me.

I caught his wrist, which froze in my grasp, but I just took his bony hand and cradled it between my hands the same way he’d done mine, tracing the lines across his palm. He sucked  in a sharp breath.

“Okay,” I said, and he smiled, moving away. I let go of his hand.

“I just have to turn off the light. Get comfy.”

His retreating footsteps filled my stomach with dread, but nevertheless I unzipped his jacket and draped it on top of the blanket so that it would at least keep my feet warm. Pulling the pillow tight behind my head, I was pleased to find it sort of smelled like Connor’s shampoo as the light clicked off. It left me feeling a little more safe. Ironic, I realized. I was in the middle of a wilderness, I’d almost been abducted, my mother was downstairs ruining our family, and all I could find myself to be worried about was if Connor would be okay.

The bed dipped behind me, shocking me into stillness, surprising me even more when someone lifted the sheet and slid in behind me, a bony hand resting on my hip.

“This okay?” He asked, and I dared to open my eyes to meet his. They were unsure, nervous. He was scared I’d reject him. I nodded, scooting closer.

“It really will be okay, you know,” he assured. “Whatever you choose, I’m gonna be with you.”

“You’re amazing,” I said without thinking, but being entirely sincere. Even in the dark, I saw his eyes go wide and his cheeks tinge a deep magenta in his pale face.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” I assured with a laugh, reaching across the divide to poke at his side, slightly surprised to still find him shirtless. He’d withdrawn his hand almost immediately, keeping respectfully to his side of the bed. “I’d be dead without you. And you’ve supported me this whole way.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched, freeing one of his arms to pick at the wrinkled sheets between us. “I just, fuck, I knew you’d hear some shit, but I was hoping you’d be able to come out here and we could start over again, like before? Zoe started her smear campaign almost immediately. I just, fuck, nevermind.”

I watched him withdraw, turning over with his back to me, the pale plains of his back bared to me.

“Con,” I said very softly. “I don’t care what they say–fuck them,” I laughed, watching Connor’s shoulders shake. “I think you’re good, Connor, and I miss being your friend.”

I watched with bated breath as his back rose and fell with his steady breath in the cold room, his skin radiating heat. I shifted closer, crossing the divide between us. He didn’t respond.

I didn’t sleep.

——

I was alerted late in the day by a noise–it was daylight, I noted, the clock on the bedside table reading it was almost noon. I was groggy, still in the state between sleep and consciousness. The room was shrouded in a bright grey hue from the winter wonderland outside–it had snowed a significant amount, apparently, and the white fluff stuck hopelessly to the window.

At the foot of the bed, Connor was on his knees, pulling a navy sweater over his head. It was tight, with a stretched collar and holes at the hem, but he looked good in it. His hair was frizzed at the temples, and his eyes were wide when we saw me.

“You’re awake.”

I just nodded, a little embarrassed. Part of me hoped Connor would just let last night drop, and we could continue our indifference toward each other, but most of me felt as if we had an unfinished conversation to attend to.

“Is anyone back yet?” I asked, surprised as Connor came to sit in front of me, legs crossed kindergarten style. He shook his head.

“No, actually. No one came back from their trip, and the lovebirds have miraculously vanished for a ski day. It’s just me and you.”

“Oh.”

Connor seemed unsure for a moment, brushing his hands off on his pants. “I’m sorry, um, about last night? I should’ve asked first if it was okay to sleep next to you, I just–I know you said you missed being friends, so I thought–”

“It was nice,” I cut him off with a smile that was nearly all false bravado. “Warm. I really do miss hanging out with you.”

He pursed his lips in way of a smile. “Me too. Miss having friends, period, but you’re kinda great, so–I’ll shut up.”

Stretching, I groaned with the sensation and smiled widely at him. “We can be friends again, don’t you think?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. When my vision cleared, he was sitting by my feet, eyes downcast.

“It’s kinda lame, isn’t it?” He asked, sending ice down my spine.

“What, I’m not cool enough for you?” I teased half heartedly, despite feeling slightly sick. If Connor left now, I’d be marooned on this island I’d made for myself, and it wasn’t ideal knowing I no longer had any allies.

“No! That’s not what I–no, fuck, I just meant. Don’t you like Zoe better?”

I shook my head. “I like Zoe–but I liked you first.”

“Yeah, I liked the Teletubbies first, doesn’t mean I prefer them to Death Cab for Cutie.”

I snorted. “Okay, I like you best. You’re both really similar, you know, but you’re kinder.”

He shot me a glare, which I supposed I’d earned. “Liar.”

“Can’t lie,” I protested. “And I like you better. Get used to it.”

He swallowed, shifting on the bed and looking at me again as if grappling to say something. His eyebrows were pinched in the middle, making him look slightly worried, small. I watched the way his mouth bowed as he opened and closed it, my eyes tracing over his soft lips.

He was pretty, I realized, in a way I wouldn’t have considered before.

“What about when you leave?” He asked softly, scratching his arm absently.

I frowned. “What about it?”

“We won’t see each other again.”

I smiled. “Connor, you just live on the other side of town. I do own a car.”

He frowned. “You’d come to see me?”

“If you wanted me to,” I answered honestly. “Or we could go do stuff. It doesn’t make me any difference–whatever you want, I’m game for.”

His eyebrows took a sharp hike into his hairline. “Whatever I want, huh?”

My stomach clenched nervously–decidedly a good kind of nervous. I didn’t realize it till he placed his hand on my ankle, grinning up at me with crooked teeth and pretty eyes, that I might’ve begun to develop a small crush on him.

Which wasn’t okay.

——

“This is such bullshit.”

I cackled as Connor continued to strap on his snow boots, repeatedly tripping and losing his balance in the snow.

“C'mon, it’s fun!” I protested, pulling my sock toboggan down tighter over my ears, trudging another few slow steps through the slush. Connor was frustrated, I could tell, seeing his pink nose and ears, his breaths coming out in angry puffs of smoke.

“No,” he grunted, dragging himself up the trail a few more steps. “Video games are fun. Cartoons are fun. Cheap Internet porn is fun. Dragging my frozen ass up a mountain covered in snow for ten miles is not my idea of fun, dude.”

“It’s not ten miles,” I protested, taking a seat on a mostly clean looking rock, patting the seat beside me in condolence to Connor, giving him a much needed break. He’d agreed to go outside with me at least once to take a hike, since the Murphy kids never ever wanted to do anything that didn’t involve fried food or touristy tie dye t-shirts. We’d been going for a few hours now, and the last bench had easily been miles ago. I wanted to see where the trail ended.

Part of me was scared he’d only agreed because he thought I would break. I’d surprised myself with how calm I’d been after, well, what a nightmare this trip had been. I supposed I’d be worse once my dad got back–but he wasn’t yet, so I was content to have my last moments with Connor.

“We’ve been out here for hours, man, don’t you think we should head back before it gets dark?” He whined, leaning forward on his elbows and rubbed his hands together–he had on mittens, which was probably the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Say what you want about Connor Murphy, his aesthetic was absolutely demolished once you put him in a fire engine red puffer coat.

I sighed, glancing wistfully up the trail. I’d like to finish, but Connor was right–it was getting dark, too dangerous out for us to be out here alone. He’d humored me enough for today.

Time to go back and face reality.

I just nodded, stuffing my hands in my pockets and rising from the rock, giving a decent stretch before moving forward back down the path, Connor scurrying along beside me.

“Thanks for coming,” I said again, nudging him with my shoulder. He stumbled gracefully, grinning with a subdued force that warmed me a little, before checking me back with his shoulder.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he warned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “But it wasn’t totally awful.”

I snorted. “I won’t let anyone know Connor Murphy can feel fun.”

Biting back a smile, he nudged me again. “God, please don’t. Then they might bring me back here and I’ll have to spend another two weeks with you.”

“I’m sure I’m just killing you inside,” I teased. “How dare your parents give you unfiltered access to a teenage girl.”

“Who never wears pants around the house,” he added sagely.

“And sleeps in your bed!” I choked with laughter, the bird walking along the snow path in front of us clearing the way. “God, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry, I was probably awful. Did I snore?”

His mouth twisted, as if trying to look indifferent but instead just failed at smothering a smile, both corners of his lips turning in a different direction.

“Not awful,” he offered, earning an embarrassed groan from me. “No! It’s cute, like a kid, I promise. You kicked the shit out of me, though.”

“You’re kidding me,” I groaned. “I’m so so sorry! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Might be some bruises,” he grinned, to my further mortification. “Hey, nah, I’m kidding. Any damage will heal. It’s kinda funny.”

I cocked an eyebrow from where I was hiding my face behind my gloves. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” he said, reaching out to take my wrist, pulling one of my hands away from my face. He didn’t realize it, just held it, swinging stiffly between us as we walked. He held his breath for a moment before continuing, “I would’ve let you know if I didn’t like it.”

“Kinky,” I said upon reflex, earning a lazy kick to my ankle.

“You’re hilarious. I just meant you’re warm, maybe the bruises are worth it.”

I felt my face get hot, words forming in my belly, escaping before I could choke them back. “Yeah? Maybe I’ll kiss them better tonight, if Zoe isn’t back.”

He let go of my wrist like I’d burned him.

“Sor–”

“Don’t,” he said quietly, stuffing his hands in his pockets, beginning to walk quickly ahead of me.

“What?” I screeched, frustrated.

“Don’t fake flirt with me. It’s not funny,” he spat, continuing walking too fast on his ridiculously long legs.

“Who said it was fake?” I grumbled. “I’m not making fun of you, Connor.”

There was a beat of silence, pulling at my heart with sharp claws, the dull ache starting in my chest and spreading. I’d messed up everything.

“It’s getting dark,” he growled. “And we don’t have a flashlight. Try and keep up.”

——

The panic set in at twilight.

We were running.

He was holding my hand again, dragging me roughly down the mountain, hoping desperately to see some kind of light pollution as the sun set, but there was nothing.

“We should see lights by now,” I told him. “We can see the lights from our cabin, we should see the lights now.”

“We went down the wrong side of the mountain,” he gasped, already out of breathe. I knew his lungs weren’t the best, and we’d been running for awhile now.

“There has to be something at the bottom,” I whispered hopelessly.

“There is,” he growled. “It’s called a gorge, then you climb the other mountain, and there’s the next state. Fuck, how did we get so turned around?”

“Doesn’t matter, Con,” I said hopelessly. “It’s gonna be dark soon.”

His dark eyes widened. “You aren’t sincerely suggesting we try to find shelter. In the middle of a national park.”

“I’ve got a flare gun and a flint,” I told him. “But we have to get back up out of the trees.”

“You want us to climb the mountain again?” He hissed, holding both my hands now. “Are you positive you don’t have signal?”

I nodded. “I’m really sorry, Connor.”

“Don’t be sorry. Start walking.”

——

It was an accident.

It was dark.

I had an analog watch, letting me know it was nearly nine pm. We’d found shelter just as it had started to snow–the  ground here was wet, quickly freezing into ice, and we kept slipping up on the trail. I’d set off the flare an hour ago, and, so far, nothing. The snow had begun to pick up, and we’d found a alcove between two adjacent rocks–not big, about the size of a walk in closet, but enough space for us, our bags, and a pile of wood that refused to light. It kept the snow and wind off of us, and the alcove was high enough I felt safe, with a small mouth that made me feel as if at any instant we could be trapped.

It was an accident.

“The fire won’t light,” I said again, hopelessly, watching my now bloody fingers go numb from trying desperately to get the flint to do its job. I couldn’t feel them without my gloves on.

Connor, huddled in a corner, viciously rubbed his arms in an attempt to get warm. I knew the  temperature would only drop from here. If someone hadn’t seen the flare….

“There’s no dry wood. I checked.”

“Nothing?”

“No, okay? Nothing. That’s it.”

I knew he was right–and searching now would only prove to be counter productive and dangerous. I moved our bags and the pile of firewood to the entrance, sealing us in.

“It’s gonna be pitch black soon,” I warned, watching Connor tap angrily at his phone. “You should probably save your battery. I don’t have a flashlight.”

He snorted. “You’ll bring sleeping bags and a flint, but not a flashlight?”

“It’s the emergency bag! I didn’t pack it, Connor. Make fun of it all you want, but it’s keeping us alive!”

There was a beat of silence, before he clicked his phone off, leaving us in darkness. “M sorry.”

I dragged out the single sleeping bag, stretching it out to him. “Don’t be sorry.” I felt guilty–it was my fault we were in this mess to begin with. “Wanna granola bar?”

“Save it,” he said in a clipped tone, unsure what to make of it since we were veiled in darkness. “We might need it later.” Then, softer: “What’s the plan?”

I heard him stand, and walk across the slick ice of the alcove, coming to stand beside me, his hand at my elbow.

“Well,” I said very slowly, feeling my throat get thick. “Survive the night, stay awake, and once dawn hits we head back to the other side of the mountain, if no one comes.”

“If no one comes,” he echoed, voice oddly hollow. I choked.

“It, erm, is very possible they think we just wandered off, you know? We’re teenagers,” I reminded gently. I left out the part the police would be less than willing to look–Connor had a history of running away after a bad binge.

“Fuck,” he growled.

It was an accident. It was quick, in the dark, we couldn’t see.

He reached our for me, his open palm colliding with the back of my head, yanking me tightly again his chest, my nose buried in his nylon puffer coat. I felt his other hand, too forcefully, at the small of my back, and I nearly screamed, terrified this was an episode I couldn’t control–

“We’re gonna make it outta here,” he breathed against my ear, his breath warm and humid against my freezing ears. It set off a light bulb in my brain. “We’re gonna go back home and–fucking shit, I’m gonna be a goddamn good friend to you and we’re gonna–fuck,” he hissed, his clipped voice breaking off. “I’m gonna take care of you, I’m not going anywhere.”

I let myself break open, collapsing against him, openly sobbing with regret. He stiffened, but just tightened his arms around me despite our bulky clothes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “This is all my fault.”

“It is not,” he hissed, shaking me a little. “We had no way of knowing this would happen. The trail looked safe.”

I just nodded, knowing that arguing would tire me out. I felt the lethargy begin to creep in my bones–Connor was warm, and it was late, and we were tired. Falling asleep meant dying.

“Get out the sleeping bag,” he said, extracting himself from me, and I heard his hands scrape along the hard rock looking for the entrance. “And I’ll look for some more blankets in the bag, see if we can’t insulate–fuck!

“What is it?” I screeched, turning, grabbing his hand to only find that my own was suddenly wet, almost sticky, and Connor pulled away with a howl. I smelled the metallic sting before I realized.

“Something cut my hand!”

“Stay away from the wall,” I warned. “Take your undershirt off, I’ll rip it up.” I felt around desperately for Connor’s phone, immediately illuminating our little cave with a blinding blue light.

The amount of blood smeared across the wall was nauseating. There was a sharp spot Connor must’ve grabbed too quickly.

He was crying, trying desperately to unzip his coat with one hand, the other dripping onto the floor.

“Fuck, I hope something doesn’t smell that,” I whispered, laying down the light and running to help him get undressed, careful of the open cut across his palm.

“I knew I was gonna get naked tonight,” he said with an unsure laugh, “I just didn’t realize it would be like this.”

My face flushed. “What, you thought I’d suck you off because we’re about to die?”

He shivered, accentuated by me ripping his white shirt down the front, exposing his blue, goosebumped skin.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and I was unsure if it was from the cold, the pain, or my foul language.

“Hope this is clean,” I muttered, wrapping a strip of his white shirt across his palm in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. It was a good way to get an infection, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.

“I didn’t–I wouldn’t ask you to–”

“I’m not sucking you off!”

“Fuck, I just meant–hypothermia, skin to skin, I saw it in a movie–”

The phone light clicked off. I sighed, tying off the cotton bandage.

“You wanna get naked in the sleeping bag,” I finished.

“I don’t want to!” He howled. “And not naked–just, enough to stay alive, shit. It’s gonna be negative ten out here soon, I just wanna stay alive.”

“We should hurry,” I said, surprising myself by reaching out to urge him to rub at his bare chest, earning a gasp from him. “You’re gonna freeze soon. Get your pants off.”

I handed him the sleeping bag, my breath catching as I heard his belt clink to the floor, trying very hard not to think about the implications of this. How far did he expect me to undress? And, if we did get in here, it would be ridiculously tight, we might fall asleep–

“Hurry up, this bag is an icicle with one person.”

Straightening out my bra and panties (even if we were going to die, Connor Murphy did not get to cop a feel) I felt my way to the sleeping bag.

My hand on his chest, he guided my legs one at time–one by his side, one between his knees–and gently folded me down against him, uncomfortably tight as his shaking fingers zipped the sleeping bag up.

He was breathing hard against my temple, and I immediately began to sweat–between the nylon bag and the fact I felt all of Connor Murphy pressed against my chest and stomach–it was nerve wracking.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he reminded in a hoarse voice, shaking a little. I couldn’t quite figure out where his hands were.

“Don’t get a boner,” I begged, earning a beat of silence before:

“I, uh, am–I’m really trying not to,” he groaned, and I could feel how hot his face was against my temple.

“If it helps,” I said, slightly disgusted. “You can imagine our parents kissing. That really kills my fire.”

“Ew,” he said. “Please don’t.”

I grinned. “What? You don’t want me to be your hot step sister?”

Stop it,” he begged, making me laugh, pressing my face against the soft cushion of his hair, nosing at the column of his throat. He groaned a little, and I felt his fingers twitch beside my hips.

“I can’t believe their secret is going to die with us,” I sighed. “No one is ever going to know.”

“I can’t believe you’re lying on top of me in your spiderman panties, but that’s also happening, so you’d better believe it,” he sighed, hands twitching again.

“You can touch me, you know,” I breathed, a little embarrassed against his ear. “We’re gonna die anyway, might as well die comfy.”

“We won’t die,” he promised, his hands clasping over the small of my back regardless.  “Hey,” he crooned, in a soft voice I hadn’t heard before. Encouraging. “Remember sharing a sleeping bag when we were kids?”

I laughed half heartedly, remembering fully. “The thing was always full of pixie stick wrappers.”

“It was an addiction, and I have quit,” he said sagely, earning another laugh from me. I almost joked about the pot, but part of me knew it wasn’t a funny joke. It didn’t have anything to do with him. He sighed, one finger trailing up my spine. “God, I was so in love with you.”

I froze against him, my body a live wire. His hand pulled back.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said tha–”

“Were you really?” I asked. I felt him smile, before leaning in to kiss my cheek, slowly, his dry lips lingering.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” he groaned. “Zoe had me convinced you were just humoring me because you knew I’d do anything for you.”

I pulled up, as far as I could (which wasn’t much) squinting to make out his face in the dark. “That wasn’t true. You were my best friend.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. God, that time when you kissed me….I’m so sorry we stopped talking. I don’t think I’m ever gonna forgive myself for that.”

“Connor,” I said very softly, reaching up to tangle my hands lightly in his hair. “If we’re gonna die…can I just….”

He surged up before I could, the nylon around us snapping taunt, squeaking in protest. Up on his elbows, his bony hands found their purchase on my bare hips, and I felt the wetness through one of the bandages–his hand was still bleeding, the idiot.

His lips were dry, and he kissed much too roughly for someone who wasn’t holding my head in place, our teeth clinking together in a way that I knew was an accident, sending my skull ringing. His eyes were squeezed shut in the darkness.

I can’t believe it took us to the brink of death for him to admit this.

God, he’s an idiot.

I reached up, pulling at his hair, holding his head to mine, his tongue licking roughly up into my mouth before breaking away–

“Boner,” he warned in a squeak, earning a loud laugh from me, collapsing against his chest.

“Not even in death, Murphy, am I sucking you off on a first or last date,” I giggled against his neck, giving him a chaste kiss there, listening to him groan. His hips canted a little, scaring me, before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“First date, huh?” I felt him grin, followed by a yawn.

“Stay awake, Connor,” I urged, smacking him hard. “Or I’m gonna twist your nipple.”

“Kinky,” he sighed lethargically. Shit, he was gonna sleep.

“Connor–”

“Promise me this,” he sighed, nuzzling lightly against the side of my face. “If we survive the night by some miracle, and we don’t freeze to death or get eaten by bears or bleed out–you wanna kiss me again? With more clothes on? As my girlfriend?”

I leaned into his touch, tilting my head up to give him access to suck a hickey into my neck, groaning.

“Murphy, if we live, I will suck you off.”

That was the last thing I remembered.

——-

Three days later, it’s still cold. I’m not wearing much–a blue gown with shitty pink flowers, it’s made of some kind of plasticy cotton material. There’s blood under my fingernails and bruises on my neck that are almost embarrassing when I remembered how I got them. My clothes were gone.

Connor was gone.

My mother and father were leaning over my bed, the Murphy's  (minus Cynthia) are behind them. No Connor.

They explained it slowly, eyes wide. They found Connor and I nearly frozen, unconscious. Connor lost a lot of blood, they said, and he wasn’t do so well but he’d woken up several days before me.

He wouldn’t eat until they let him see me.

I’d nearly ripped out my IV to get to him.

He was wearing the same shitty hospital gown, his hair pulled back. He’s got hickies I don’t remember giving him across his collarbone that are ridiculously visible. There were purple bruises under his eyes, like he hadn’t been sleeping.

“They said you were still too sick to get out of bed,” he grinned, opening his arm, and I immediately stumbled over to the thin mattress, pressing myself tightly against him. His hand is thickly wrapped in cotton, a few tubes full of a yellow brown liquid in them. He was combing my hair–which I’m sure was a rats nest–out with his free hand.

“They said the same about you.”

“We’re really lucky, you know,” I said softly, tapping at his chest. “I almost lost you.”

“Almost lost you,” he choked out, pulling away to scan my face, before grinning. “Which would’ve sucked, because you’re my only friend right now.”

“Friend?” I said, trying hard not to sound disappointed. I supposed I shouldn’t have been–what we’d done in the heat of a moment hadn’t meant anything then. It had been a lie for my humor.

It wasn’t fair.

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “You, um–do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

I frowned. “I mean, only if you want me to.”

He grinned, the smile splitting across his face. “It’ll suck–your parents will hate me.”

“Right now, I kind of hate my parents, so.”

“I do a lot of pot.”

“We can do something else instead,” I grinned, nudging him, having the nerve to blush.

He licked his lips, looking down at where he’d intertwined our hands. “You–you can’t fix me, you know? I’m still gonna be, you know.”

I nodded, bring his hand up to kiss across the bloody knuckles of his good hand. “I know. I promised I’d be your girlfriend, though. A promise is a promise.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you say that–because you did promise something else.”

I shook my head, rising from the bed. “The kiss is for when we have clothes on, remember.”

“I wasn’t talking about that kiss.”

Connor Murphy!

I still don't know if he ever got his coffee

I’m not 100% sure this even belongs here and I’ve posted this story elsewhere so some of you might have read it already.

Some background: I work in a rather specialised area of Forensics. Officially I’m employed by Police Scotland but they tend to let other law enforcement agencies, universities, etc borrow us from time to time. A lot of the time it’s for consulting work or guest lecturing but sometimes we’re sent to teach training courses.

About 18 months ago I was asked to lecture at a training course for some of the CID higher-ups in an English Police force. It was the first time I’d done anything like it and I was crapping myself.

I met with the conveners and other officials for dinner the night before my first day, and after dinner and drinks, I was dropped back at my hotel.

So to set the scene; it’s about 10pm, I’m all dressed up in my evening wear and I’m sitting at the bar in the hotel lounge. The place is dead, it’s just me and the barman so I’ve taken off my heels and am unraveling my hair having just ordered a hot chocolate. The barman asks if I want mini marshmallows on my hot chocolate. Yes, of course I want mini marshmallows on my hot chocolate. No I don’t mind waiting while you run to the kitchen.

So I’m sit there trying to trick my phone into connecting to the hotels WiFi when Angry Man walks in.

He stomped into the room and slammed his fist down on the bar about 3 ft from me and barked out one word:

“COFFEE”

I didn’t know it but apparently that attempt at communication was aimed at me; a fact I learned a moment later when Angry Man moved right up next to me, bent over me so his face was practically in mine and barked out again;

“COFFEE”.

In an attempt to get away from the screaming coffee man I slipped off the bar stool, putting it between the two of us. Extremely confused and more than a little terrified, it didn’t immediately occur to me that he thought I worked there, hell it wasn’t even registering that he wanted a coffee. He was just repeating it the same way a toddler does when they learn a new word but don’t entirely know what it means.

I’m going to blame the confusion, fear and tiredness for my completely moronic response, which was to parrot the word back at him.

Me: “Coffee?”

Angry Man: “COFFEE”

Then he slammed his fist down on the bar again. This time I noticed that he was actually throwing down money.

My brain suddenly came back online.

Me: “Oh. Eh, the barman should be back in a sec. H-”

Angry Man: “Get me a coffee. Now.”

Ooooh four new words. Progress.

Me: “I’m sorry, mate, I don’t work here.”

Angry man (shouting now) “You fucking lazy liar!! Do you think I’m fucking stupid?”

Yes, actually, but I’ll be keeping that to myself.

Angry Man: “Get off your fucking phone and get me a shitting coffee”

Me: “I really don’t-”

Cue rant about me being the only person in the lounge so of course I must work there and I was just being lazy and did I take him for an idiot. All while I’m slowly backing away from the bar so he can’t pin me between it and the bar stools. Then he throws in this:

Angry Man: “Do you have any idea who I am? Do you have any idea how important I am?”

I never got to find out how important this guy thought he was. Instead Angry Man’s Friend came wandering in.

He took one look at me; pretty much cornered by Angry Man who is now screaming about how he’ll make sure I never work again while I’m trying to calmly tell him to back off and he tries to intervene.

He took Angry Man by the shoulders and moved him back away from me while asking him what was going on.

Angry Man: “This stupid little whore is refusing to serve me”

Me: “I really don’t work here”

Angry Man’s Friend: “She doesn’t work here. Let’s just all try to calm down”

There was a few moments of Angry Man’s Friend trying to calm Angry Man while he ranted about getting me fired until two barman arrived, one of them with my hot chocolate. The presence of the three men distracted Angry Man enough for me to grab my shoes and escape with my chocolatey goodness.

As I left I could hear him demanding to speak to a manager.

The next day, after being introduced to a lecture theatre full of high ranking CID Officers, I stood and walked to the podium only to be greeted by one guy in the audience laughing hysterically.

I just sort of froze trying to figure out the joke. Did I have food on my face? Was my shirt on inside out?

A quick check confirmed that, no. I’d managed to adult that morning.

A few other people began to chuckle as this guy struggled to get a hold of himself. As he regained control he pointed to his left.

Where a very red looking Angry Man was sitting.

I think it was the sheer relief that he wasn’t actually laughing at me that caused me to open my mouth and say to Angry Man;

“Oh did you get your coffee in the end?”

He walked out and I didn’t see him for the rest of the course.

An observation of Markiplier TV

Emphasis on the observation part because I’ve never really been good with theories. I have a number of things to do today but unfortunately, I watched this video and now I can’t stop thinking about it. Hopefully this’ll quiet my mind and let me function, and who knows? Maybe it’ll help someone out there with their own theories too. :)

So, let’s talk about this scene:

We got one hell of a group here BUT what I’d like to focus on is their seating arrangement and what that could mean, because if there’s anything I’ve learned in videos like this it’s that EVERYTHING is by design. This entire table scene (props to the Editor btw) has so much hidden psychological subtext in it, so while I’m no professional I’ll still do my best to uncover them all.

First off, let’s look at the table: Rectangular with two long ends and two short ones. Pretty normal setting yeah, but is it beneficial to their situation (i.e. finding a way to ‘take control’) where everyone easily agrees? Nope. Because tables like these embody competition and a clear sense of authority, and I love this detail. It means that while they could’ve easily gone for a round table to promote cooperation, they go for this because of course, no one’s going to cooperate that easily.

This setting, however, works better in the business cooperative world, because you got two people (Darkiplier & Wilford) who can control the meeting from both ends of the table and are essentially the people everyone will need to look up to.

Here’s a great detail though: In this kind of setting, the more powerful of the two is usually the one opposite the entrance to the room. This allows him not just a vantage point of whoever comes in and goes, but complete control as well. And as we see where King of the Squirrels pops up:

Originally posted by antisepticjack

Which we can easily tell was from the right of the room based on the direction his body and eyes shift to, we can point out where the entrance is and who was right there:

But yeah, in this moment it didn’t seem like Will had control over King’s sudden entrance but let’s face it: he doesn’t care. He already knows that there’s more than one king in that room.

Speaking of, let’s move on to the seating arrangement.

Obviously we got Dark and Will at the ends as the higher ups, but I’d like to talk about Googleplier and The Host.

In medieval times, kings would often have their advisors right at their side at the table. This actually explains the term “right hand man”, because the king would have them close at hand to help him rule, unless of course, he was left-handed. Looking back at Dark’s antics, I have reason to believe that he’s either left-handed or ambidextrous.

Originally posted by http-darkiplier-403forbidden

Which I guess would make sense, considering that while Ed, Bim, Silver and Dr. Iplier were all concerned about their parts in the video, only Google and The Host were able to keep a level head and not lose sight of their main goal/situation.

Now the last thing I want to talk about is Wilford’s idea for Markiplier TV. I must warn you though because this is going to be a bit of a stretch so stop reading if you’d like BUT… I think he may have been inspired by Anti.

AGAIN, please bear with me. Jack’s mentioned before that Dark and Anti ever meeting each other was very unlikely, which in Dark’s case (being the alter ego that’s been pushed inside the most) could be more than true. However, Wilford makes up for this as he’s the only one not bound by the laws of physics and is, potentially, omnipresent. So it’s possible that he’s aware of Anti (since he was aware of Septiplier after all) and his methods (i.e. using social media to have his fans notice him which then gives him control) BUT, being Wilford, he goes about it in his own roundabout way which is, of course, TELEVISION.

So, yeah, this is all I can come up with. Excluding my attempt in theorizing at the very end I hope this was helpful. Now I’m just hoping that my thoughts on Antisepticeye don’t get too hectic and end up like this long wall of text. Thanks for reading. :)

Can I just, talk about this scene here real quick?

yeah this one. Where lance is about to get fucking shot by Sven. 

Like, before either Lance or Sven could even blink properly like, Keith just comes in and slices that gun right the fuck off so fast you can’t even see his blade.

Not only is this a bad ass moment for Keith (we even get the slow-mo and different angles of the hit as well) it also kind of shows us how Keith will cut a bitch if someone is about to hurt his lance friends. 

I mean his sword came out of literally nowhere and cut off a part of the guy’s gun so fast and so cleanly too. Like, that’s not a sloppy cut at all. It was clean and it was fast. He was going in with the intent to Kill with that kind of cut.

 And what does it show us about Keith? Well, it shows us that Keith will not let anyone hurt his friends and that he does care about Lance’s well being. (Which in turn, is great development coming from his new role as the team leader and considering Lance is his right hand man) 

Cause let’s face it, Keith is hotheaded,  he views himself as a loner, not typically a team-working kind of person. So for Keith, this is pretty new. 

This scene is especially interesting because Lance, our dear precious boy Lance, is the sharpshooter of the team. He knows how to fire a gun and he knows how to doge from a shot. 

When he’s on the battlefield, he’s cautious and analytical, so in turn, that makes him very aware of his position (and even more aware of how risky it is). He has to know how to dodge from a shot. 

(Some images of Lance being a cautious boy)

 And Lance is a damn good shot too. He never misses. The only time he does is if his opponent is too fast for him. 

(Cue acxa dodging all of his shots because of her speed and obvious experience in combat) 

And it’s safe to say that the team knows this. So then why did Keith go in for the kill like he did here? (Because let me tell you honey, that was not a warning cut, he was going in fast and hard and he was determined to cut. that. bitch)

Was it because it was just an instinct for Kieth to go and save Lance??

Just like he did here?(Keith looks absolutely fucking pissed)

 Was it because he saw the immediate danger and gauged Lance’s reaction time to be too slow? 

I mean cause look at him. He was barely getting up to face Sven when Keith fucking came over here and cut his fucking gun.

Like??


They’ve come so far from the first season, where Keith and Lance could barely even protect each other properly and now they’re saving each other’s asses like it was nothing.

In conclusion, they’ve become a lot more in sync and have become prone to save each other at the drop of a hat,

 in the span of only seven episodes.

Bonus, Lance saving Keith:

anonymous asked:

Well, this is kinda angsty, but can I request a scenario where zen & mc are together and in the last rfa party zen slept with jaehee and after a few days jaehee couldn't deal with the blame and told mc in front of all rfa but MC pretended not to believe her (andthenrfa*cof*saeran*cof*tryingtocomforther). This is ridiculously specific, i know lolol but feel free if you don't want to do it, it's okay, or if you want to change anything just do it 😅 I love love love your blog and your writing ❤❤❤❤❤

Ok so this post actually ended up being realllly long and I don’t know how to do the ‘read more’ thing so I’m really sorry to anyone trying to scroll by
Oops 

And I’m so glad you like my writing, and I’m also really glad I got this request because at first I wasn’t sure how to write it (I basically ended up writing a fanfiction using bullet points haha oops) but I had a lot of fun doing it.

Disclaimer: I don’t think Zen would ever cheat and I actually don’t think Jaehee has any romantic feelings for him, just admiring adoration.

And I know you said I could change things
but it’s rlly angsty 
and I’m an angst monster and I kinda love it sooo i’m gonna keep it exactly how you wrote it  

let’s do it

  • Zen had always been flirty with you
  • And at some point..you had started flirting back
  • And soon it was more than flirting and you found yourself head over heels for each other
  • Constant phone calls too each other where you’d gush over how you wished you could see each other
  • Good morning and Goodnight texts
  • The occasional shameless flirt in the public chat
  • Once you two met at the first RFA party it was like a scene from a Disney movie, you two all but ran to each other and he swung you around once he snagged you in a tight embrace
  • Looking into his eyes you swore this could be love
  • He did too.
  • He really did swear he was in love with you
  • You were everything he had hoped and more
  • You were the person that woke him up everyday and put a smile on his face, you were the person that he thought of when love songs came on the radio, when he was on stage you were his muse, when he lay down to sleep at night you were the final thought in his head, and the first one in his dreams.
  • The next RFA party was a few months after you two had first met in person, only a couple months into your very happy relationship
  • You two had spent the first half of the night joined at the hip, happily enjoying each other’s company.
  • But somewhere throughout the nights timeline you both got distracted by separate guests and acquaintances and wandered away from each other.
  • Zen started drinking. Whoever he was talking to kept egging him on and the two of them were having a good ole time, which is rare for Zen in these occasions because the guests are usually upper class aristocrats like Jumin or if they are there for Zen, it’s as fans instead of friends
  • So he thought he’d treat himself
  • It got to be a bit much
  • The other guests were starting to notice and Jumin was not going to have the press covering Zen’s drunken gusto at an RFA event
  • “Assistant Kang,” Jumin sauntered over to Jaehee while keeping his eyes on Zen. “please escort Hyun to the back where he can cool down, out of the cameras’ lines of sight.”
  • “Of course, Mr. Han” And Jaehee was off. She was relieved that she had an excuse to get Zen out of the room, she too recognized the bad press that could follow this event but felt she hadn’t had the authority to tell Zen otherwise
  • But under the guise of Jumin’s will, she was able to convince Zen to head to the back so ‘Jumin wouldn’t bitch’ (in the words of the actor).
  • Soon it was just the two of them in the back room, Jaehee giving Zen water as he yanked at his shirt collar, complaining it was hot.
  • In his drunken shenanigens he managed to undo all his buttons at some point while Jaehee was getting more water, so she came back to shirtless Zen.
  • Zen knew those eyes.
  • As the assistant stared at his pectorals with a slight blush on her cheeks, he looked into her eyes and saw something
  • Adoration. Admiration. Want.
  • She wanted him.
  • Somewhere, deep in his psyche, behind the pseudo narcissist wall, 10 year old Hyun Ryu craved the attention. The positive attention his mom said he’d never get
  • He had you
  • But in that moment he had Jaehee too, and he couldn’t turn that down
  • Jaehee doesn’t even know how it initiated, she just recalls Zen pressing her against the wall and kissing her with a passion she’s never felt before.
  • His hands undoing the buttons of her shirt
  • His lips whispering praises of how she was not only successful, but also beautiful. And so sweet. And smart. And-
  • She almost cried. Someone as talented as Zen saw something so great in someone as plain as her? Impossible.
  • But he kept assuring her, and touching her, and loving her
  • Loving her the way he should have been loving you
  • The guilt hit her, but she watched it disappear as ecstasy took over
  • Zen passed out once they were both finished, pants undone and shirt wide open, but eyes closed and soft breaths flying in and out of his lips
  • Jaehee was wide awake though.
  • She was leaning against the wall, clothes messily pulled back on and tears threatening her eyes
  • The guilt was back and it felt like the weight of the world’s biggest mistake was sitting on her shoulders
  • She put her hands over her mouth as she stared at Zen, and she started crying when she thought of you.
  • “What have I done?”
  •  
  • After every party, the RFA gets together a few days later to go over logistics. What worked, what didn’t, who came, how to convince more people to come, etc
  • Jaehee’s heart dropped as you and Zen walked in together, a bright smile on your face, a blank slate on his.
  • No not blank
  • When Jaehee met his crimson eyes she saw it, the same thing he probably saw in her eyes: Guilt. Remorse. Regret.
  • She could barely stomach the feel as you greeted her and hugged her
  • “Jaehee! Good to see you! I feel like we didn’t get to talk much at the party thanks to someone making a little scene” As you pulled away you playfully rolled your eyes towards Zen. 
  • He just gave a nervous chuckle
  • Jaehee opened her mouth, ready to spill her guts, only to find it was dry as cotton. 
  • You gave her a quizzical look, ready to ask what was wrong, but Jumin’s voice interrupted with “Shall we begin?” looking pointedly at the three of you.
  • “Yahoo~” Seven cheered as he plopped down next to Saeran, who had recently been getting dragged along to all the RFA meetings, given he tended to just sit in the corner and pout.
  • Much like right now. He did little more than look at you and nod, which was as courteous a greeting as you were going to get with him.
  • Yoosung nodded, signaling everyone was ready, and the discussion began
  •  
  • You all were about 30 minutes into the conversation
  • Except for Jaehee
  • She couldn’t stop thinking about what happened the night of the party
  • She couldn’t stop looking at you and feeling guilty
  • She couldn’t stop thinking about telling you
  • “I need water” She stood up abruptly, startling everyone a bit
  • Jumin had a bit of an annoyed look on his face but conceded with “Fine. Quick 5 minute break for everyone”
  • Jaehee booked it to the kitchen
  • “Uh…I’m thirsty too.” Cue Zen bee-lining after her.
  • “Are you Okay??” He asked in a harsh whisper
  • “No I’m not okay!” Jaehee hissed back “We…we have to tell her.”
  • “No!” Zen’s eyes widened “No. You and I both know it was a mistake that will never happen again. She doesn’t need to know.”
  • “Zen if you love her-”
  • “I do love her!” He snapped back “I love her which is why I can’t lose her Jaehee. I know we messed up, I do. But..I can’t lose her over my mistakes” His eyes were pleading even more than his voice
  • Jaehee just stared into the crimson orbs, feeling the knot in her stomach grow. She just weakly nodded.
  • There was a moment of silence before she chugged her glass of water and turned to head back towards the living room where everyone was seated
  • She took a strong stride in
  • She bit her tongue
  • She was not going to-
  • You were the first face she met walking back in
  • Your smile welcoming her back to the circle
  • Your eyes cheery
  • Your heart open to her as it had been since the first day even when she treated you coldly.
  • Zen was right behind Jaehee and nearly bumped into her when she stopped dead in her tracks
  • “Jaehee?” You and he called at the same time, him due to her abrupt stop, and you because of the tears suddenly pouring from her eyes.
  • “Jaehee what’s wrong?” You rushed to her, attracting everyone’s attention
  • You caught Zen’s face from over her shoulder, his eyes wide. Knowing.
  • “M-MC” Jaehee choked out
  • “W-What is it?” You asked worriedly taking her trembling hands in yours
  • “MC” Her voice fell. There was just a moment of silence. Everyone in the room was looking, the outburst had even taken a hold of Saeran’s full attention.
  • “Zen and I…we’ve done something awful” 
  • You knew what she was suggesting but..no. No you didn’t. No way that’s what she meant you’re just confusing things.
  • “…What did you do?” You asked cautiously
  • Sniffling. Endless sniffling. You looked to Zen, who was pale and looked like he was also ready to cry.
  • “Zen…what happened?”
  • “I’m so sorry” He managed to get out before the lump in his throat clogged his vocal cords.
  • “At the party MC we- we had….” Jaehee couldn’t get the filthy three letter word out of her mouth
  • You dropped her hands and looked to Zen
  • “MC I’m so sorry” Zen repeated, his voice shaking even more
  • Everyone was quiet, waiting for your response
  • You had none. Just an empty stare and mouth slightly agape, waiting for words to come out of their own accord
  •  Finally they did
  • “This is a really cruel joke to play” You feigned a very obvious forced smile as your eyes blinked back tears “I never thought you guys would do such a thing..haha” You wiped a way a small drop ready to roll down your cheek
  • “MC!” Jaehee exclaimed “This isn’t-”
  • “Jaehee.” Your voice dropped. “I really don’t find this funny.”
  • “Neither do I!” The brown haired girl went to take your hand again but you pulled away
  • “And Zen” You turned to him “I don’t- I don’t know..how…” You couldn’t finish the sentence
  • They were everywhere. Pouring down your face, flooding your eyes, gathering in a small pool at your chin. It was an onslaught of tears rolling down your cheeks, choking your words, your thoughts, your everything.
  • “MC” Zen reached out to you, only to have his hand swatted away by yours.
  • You just stared at him and cried, forcing him to look you in the eyes as your faux smile fell to pieces. 
  • You felt a hand softly fall upon your shoulder, and you turned to see Seven looking at you, apologetic pity in his eyes. Saeran stood behind him, wearing an angrier version of his twin’s sentiment. 
  • “Let’s go for a ride, get some fresh air, huh MC?” The red head’s voice was soft
  • You softly nodded and let him guide you towards the door, not even able to muster up to energy to look back at Jaehee and Zen. 
  • Saeran did however, and he looked back towards the two with a face full of disgust, up until the moment he slammed the door
  • “what a good meeting” Jumin grumbled under his breath as he turned a disdainful eye towards Zen
  •  
  • You drove for a couple hours probably. Most of it in silence, but a comfortable one. You were in the passenger seat and Saeran was in the back, Seven at the wheel finding desolate roads and flying down them, giving the wind of your open window some sort of purifying feeling. It stung, but it felt good. Your hair whipped around and the land raced by and you occasionally sobbed but that was ok.
  • Eventually you found yourself back at the Chois’ place, sitting on the couch, staring at a TV playing a movie that you hadn’t been paying attention to for the last hour. Your mind was elsewhere, wondering what you had done wrong.
  • You looked at the carton of ice cream in your hand, only doing so because the sight of Saeran setting his own empty one on the coffee table had triggered you to remember Seven had given you your own carton to drown your sorrows in.
  • The redhead had actually gone out to buy more, so it was just you and Saeran on the black leather couch staring at the TV screen.
  • “Do you want this?” You offered the ice cream to Saeran who’s expression turned from bored to surprised, probably because you’d been silent for the past six hours aside from a sob here and there.
  • “You don’t want it?”
  • “I’m not hungry”
  • He stared at you and the carton for a second, his face unreadable.
  • He wanted to insist you eat the ice cream, because personally he found it to always make him feel better, but he figured you didn’t want to hear it.
  • He took the carton from your hands and placed it on the table in front of you two
  • Silence aside from the noise of the TV.
  • He cast a glance to you, only to find your eyes on the floor.
  • “doyou wantalk” You barely understood what he said it was so quiet
  • “What?” You looked to him
  • He thought you were asking out of surprise rather than inaudibility and “My therapist…he says that talking things out makes you feel better.” He looked indignant for a moment, likely remembering how stupid he felt when he rejected the idea only to find later that his therapist had been correct
  • “I…I have nothing to say” Your shell of a voice whispered
  • Saeran furrowed his brows at you. “Say you hate them”
  • “What?”
  • His voice raised a bit “You hate them don’t you? So say it. The therapist said talk about your feelings so start there. They’re scumbags who hurt you and deser-”
  • “No!” You’re voice hit a volume it hadn’t reached in hours. “I don’t hate them!”
  • Saeran was mixed with confusion and anger “What do you mean you don’t hate them? One of your best friends and your boyfriend fucked-”
  • There it was
  • Someone finally said it.
  • The hot tears made a return and began rolling down your cheeks as sudden sobs erupted from your mouth
  • Saeran was alarmed at the sudden show and tried to pinpoint the trigger. He supposes it could be his last sentence but it’s not as if it wasn’t something we all knew.
  • “I….I don’t hate them” You cried once the worst of the sobs subsided.”I don’t even think I want to hate them. I mean it’d be easier but…I don’t. Jaehee…it’s not her fault. She just..got wrapped up in it all. And she’s always liked Zen. How could she have said no. And he..he was drunk” You sputtered out your rationalizations to find that they only annoyed Saeran
  • “The Assistant should still no better. But fine. You know what? She’s not dating you, and clearly she triggered you finding out the truth. So let’s pretend she’s ok? What about the actor? I don’t care that he was drunk. There’s no excuse for him doing that!” The white haired boys voice had become louder and louder, fists clenching tighter and tighter as he began riling up old feelings of betrayal he once felt. “He abandoned you! He left you in the dust and for what? He failed you!”
  • You don’t know when it happened but Saeran had turned towards you and grabbed your hands, squeezing them tight in between his own. His mouth was contorted into some sort of snarl and you saw a fire raging behind his minty eyes. 
  • “Saeran..you’re hurting my hands” You squeaked out.
  • Your small voice dragged him out of whatever memory he was reliving and he sort of faded back into reality with a few blinks of his eyes before turning his attention to his hands. He let go of yours and in a flat voice uttered a “sorry”.
  • You guys were silent again, just staring at the floor, both living in whatever sad memory chose to cross your brains.
  • “You deserve better is all” He finally said.
  • “I know” You replied, voice empty of any real feeling.
  • You looked up, staring at the TV but not actually watching as a man on a horse offered a hand towards a young woman. “I just can’t stop thinking about him. About the him I fell in love with. Is he really gone?”
  • Saeran followed your gaze to the TV, looking on as the girl hopped on the horse. “I think so. That’s assuming he was the guy you thought he was at any point.”
  • “He was.” You said, a little defensive. Saeran looked towards you, watching your emotionless expression, knowing that there was a storm underneath despite the calm appearance. He knew because he often did the same, rocking a stoic appearance while watching all hell break loose in his own head.
  • “Is this the part where I say ‘It gets better’?” 
  • “Do you believe that it does?”
  • “Not a fuckin’ chance” A bitter smirk twisted his lips 
  • “I appreciate the honesty” You sighed
  • “Not in the way that we think it will anyway” He looked off into space somewhere.
  • “Hm?” You turned to him
  • “Everyone imagines that one day soon they’re going to wake up and suddenly it’s not going to hurt anymore. That there’s gonna be a day when you don’t think about this. You’re always gonna think about it. You’re always gonna wonder what you did wrong. Why God hates you. What things would be like if it didn’t happen.”
  • “You don’t think that there can be a day when it all feels ok?” You ask, partially to heal your hopeless heart, and partially because you see Saeran is projecting his own feelings and you’re curious to know how he feels.
  • “Maybe. I haven’t hit it yet though. Doubt I will.” 
  • You stared as he looked off into the distance, feeling as if you could see the scenes of his past playing in his eyes.
  • You were just about to recede back into your ball of depression and hopelessness before he spoke again and took your attention
  • “But that’s me. You’re…you, MC” your questioning look prompted him to continue “You’re…a good person.”
  • “You are to-” You went to say but he cut you off by turning and leaning towards you with a new intensity in his face.
  • “Not like you. If at all” He scoffed. “ You though, everyone loves you. And they’re right too. Because…” suddenly he stopped himself, seeming to turn a little shy.
  • “Because?” You wanted, no, needed to hear this.
  • He gulped down his fear and turned his eyes to the side, unable to look at you as he delivered his next few words, scared of you seeing through him even more than you usually do. 
  • “MC, you’re..everything. You’re smart, you’re cute, and you’re …kind. You always know what to say to help everyone. And that’s the thing. You try to help people, even people trying to hurt you…” His eyes turned back to you “You saw a good in me even when I didn’t. You risked your life to help my brother to save me. You’re…kind of like an angel.”
  • You just stared, taken aback by such kind words, from Saeran of all people. 
  • You were right to be surprised, he wasn’t usually this smooth in conveying his feelings verbally…there must have just been something about you that made it easy for him to talk.
  • “If it gets better for anyone, it’ll be for you, MC” He reached for your hand out of instinct, but pulled back instantly when your skin touched, as if he just realized what he was doing. His eyes did the same, it looked like he just realized how vulnerable he was in that moment, and a sort of wall was raised behind his irises and his whole body tensed a bit.
  • He was scared of being rejected.
  •  …
  • Your hand slowly reached out to his, which was floating in the space between you two, and when he didn’t pull back, you interlaced your fingers together. 
  • A look of awe decorated both of your faces.
  • “Thank you…Saeran.” The light of the TV bounced off your wet eyes, making them look extra glossy.
  • The boy just looked at you, wide eyed, apprehensive for a moment, then nodded and tightened his grip on your hand. It wasn’t the same anger induced bear trap grip from when he grabbed them before. Now it was just firm, reassuring, like a hug.
  • “MC…things will get better for you. If not? I’ll make them.” He gave a subtle squeeze of the hand, giving you the nostalgic feeling of a pinky promise.
  • “You already did.” You let your head, heavy from spinning and sobbing all day, fall on his shoulder.
  • He just looked at you for a moment, before taking a deep breath a pulling you closer, his free hand rubbing your back gently. 
  • Maybe he was wrong
  • Maybe things would get better for him too
Hear Your Heart (M)

Genre: fluff, smut, hybrid!au

Word Count: 11k 

Summary:  You really liked learning more about Yoongi. You liked that he didn’t need to whisper all of his deepest secrets into your ear because you felt like you could see into his heart- see who he truly was behind all of the fronts he put up in front of others.

Yoongi really hadn’t meant to be in this part of town.

He wasn’t familiar with it in the slightest, and he hadn’t heard too good of things about it either. He planned on just quickly making his way through, exhaustion already running through his body from work. His nervousness began to pick up as he passed a few alleyways, the darkness of the night preventing his eyes from seeing anything farther than a few feet in front of him.

He suddenly jumped in alarm at a sudden yelp, the sound echoing from the alley he had just walked by. Yoongi quickly had an inner battle with himself, trying to decide if he should turn around and look, or continue on his way to the safety of his apartment. His thoughts were interrupted and made up in a matter of seconds as he heard another loud cry, the voice sounding feminine and pained. He quickly turned around, making his way down the dark alley that seemed to continue on forever.

What he was met with shocked him slightly, the sight of four dog hybrids growling over a small girl shrieking in fear. Her clothes were worn out and faded, torn in obvious places from being worn for so long. She had bruises littering her visible skin, a few fresh-looking claw marks scattered on her arms and from a hole on her shirt that showed a brief patch of skin on her stomach. She looked terrified- shaking slightly as the four males seem to circle her.

Yoongi has a quick rush of sickness enter his bloodstream, and he instantly rethinks his choice of even deciding to come down here. The hybrids were obvious much taller than him, Yoongi being smaller in frame as it was, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight them off if they decided to advance on him next. He agrees with himself that this was in fact not a good idea, and just as he turns to leave, he feels five pairs of eyes on him and he’s frozen in place really- scared to make any sudden movement. He runs his options through his mind once again, knowing it was too late to slip out of eyesight now. His eyes fall on the girl, their eyes meeting for a brief moment, eyes pleading for help, and that’s all it really takes for him to know he just had to help her.

Yoongi swallows thickly, palms beginning to sweat slightly.

“You four must really be idiots.” His voice sounds a lot surer than he’s feeling right now, and he’s thankful that it comes off that way.

He watches carefully at the shocked expressions on the fours faces, either from his tone or from being caught, he’s not entirely sure. He knew he had to scare them off somehow, but he wasn’t really good at making threats to guys who looked like they could easily put him back in his place if they really wanted to. They don’t say a word, in fact they begin to look slightly unsure of themselves now, and Yoongi knew this was his moment he had to do something.

“Do you really think it’s smart to do something like this in public where anyone could see? Now be good puppies and scat, before I call the cops and we have bigger problems.” He made sure he sounded disgusted, not letting a single hint of how nervous he actually was show in his voice. He was hoping he could just get them doubtful enough so they would leave, and really he needed it to work because if they decided to think he was just all talk- well he would end up just like the poor girl in front of him.

Luckily, the odds seemed to be in his favor and he had to thank any good deeds he had done in the past few days that surely had helped his luck in this situation, because the four dog hybrids looked as if they were nervous now, obviously not expecting to get caught. They quickly brush past Yoongi leaving him alone with the girl and he finds himself letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, surprised at how smooth and easy that had actually gone. Yoongi glances down at the girl in front of him, crouched on the ground with her soft-looking ears rested in a frightened manner atop of her head with a long dark colored tail that wrapped around her middle to match. He could see how skinny she was, probably from the struggle of trying to find food, and as he took in the fragile figure of this girl, he knew he couldn’t just leave her here.

Yoongi really wasn’t good at these things- comforting others really wasn’t one of his better qualities. He didn’t want to frighten her even more, so he knew he had to be as cautious as possible.

“Hey- it’s alright now.” He says in a rough voice, clearing his throat and trying his hardest not to sound as awkward as he felt. He takes a small step towards the girl, heart dropping slightly as she flinches.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.” He crouches down to match her level, keeping a healthy distance between the two that way he didn’t scare her. He takes this moment to take in her face, dirt smeared on various parts of her cheeks and forehead. He watches her ears perk up and twitch in alert at his sudden movement, eyes peeking over his body to confirm he wasn’t making any threatening moves towards her. He was pleasantly surprised to find that she was actually beautiful, and he had never seen a hybrid so breathtaking in his life. He didn’t know much about hybrids in general really- but he was sure there wasn’t a more attractive creature in the world. He made up his mind rather quickly, he always did really, and decided he wasn’t- couldn’t honestly- let this cat hybrid go.


You hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. You hadn’t meant to end up on the wrong side of town- on their territory to be more exact- looking for food, but you were just so hungry. You had hardly eaten a thing the whole week, and it was really beginning to take a toll on your body. You had expected slightly what was to come to you as soon as the first kick and scratch had landed on your body from the dog hybrids, angry barks and growls leaving their mouths as they spit out how pathetic and stupid it was for you, a cat hybrid, to think you could deceive them into stealing any of their food. Of course that hadn’t been the case at all, but you had been too frightened to even try to open your mouth, knowing it would do little to no good. What you hadn’t expected was a human to actually come to your rescue. In fact, it was the last thing that would have ever crossed your mind.

Somehow he had gotten them to leave, and somehow he had gotten you to stand on your shaky legs and began to lead you back onto the dark streets of the city. Silence followed the two of you, and you were thankful for it. You were sore and in pain from the blows and scratches the four males had inflicted on you, hunger pains hitting you with every step you took. Somehow you had ended up through the front door of this guy’s apartment, and you honestly hardly remember the walk here and you weren’t really sure if that was a good thing or not. You could hardly make eye contact with the stranger, your shyness overtaking you and causing you to stare at your bare feet that stood on cool hardwood floor. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he takes his shoes off, his attention suddenly falling back onto you as he sets them in a neat line with a few other pairs near the door. Your eyes snap back to the floor, a light sheen of crimson painting across your cheeks from his intense eyes.

“Min Yoongi.” He offers an awkward hand to you, and you stare at it blankly.


You had found out later that humans offered each other their hands and actually shook them, as a greeting. It was quite odd if you said so yourself, and you didn’t really get the point of it. Yoongi had taken care of you that night, he had bathed you since you had never seen a bathtub before, and frankly you didn’t understand half of the contraptions that were laid on the edge of the tub. He had even given you a new pair of clothes to wear, a comfy pair of sweat pants and a large white t-shirt that was a bit too long for your frame. You were comfortable though, and they were certainly a lot comfier than the raggedy, mud caked, faded old clothes you had been wearing for who knows how long. He even cut a hole in the back of the sweat pants for your tail, the fabric comfy against the soft fur. They even smelled like him, a masculine sweet sent that was very pleasant to your nose. You had never smelled something so comforting before, and at times you found yourself inhaling the scent stained on the clothing.

When a week hit of you staying with Yoongi after he had taken you in, you still didn’t fully know what his intentions were. You had never had an owner before, you weren’t really sure how it worked, or how humans worked in general. Did Yoongi want to be your owner and to take care of you? Or did he just simply feel sorry for you, and wanted to make sure you were alright before sending you back onto the streets? Honestly, the thought scared you, thinking Yoongi would throw you out to fend for yourself like before.

You had tried really hard to not get too comfortable just yet, to be sure to set the record straight with Yoongi and see what exactly was going to happen between the two of you. Your shyness always prevented the words from falling from your mouth, and silence seems to be the best conversation between you two. You two of coursed talked, small talk though, and it was always with him starting the conversation. He let you sleep in his bed, which was odd to you since you had never slept in a bed before, and didn’t know how to sleep in a bed. The first night, Yoongi had come in the following morning to get a change of clothes and snickered loudly at your sleeping form curled into a ball at the foot of the bed. He had later told you that you were apparently supposed to sleep under the covers, with your head on the pillow. You really had a hard time understanding how that was even comfortable, you really didn’t get humans at all. You didn’t like sleeping alone in the large room with the odd bed, not that you would tell Yoongi that. This ended up causing you to stray into the living room where Yoongi slept on the L shaped couch, curling into a comfortable ball at the edge of his feet. He had woken up and kicked you in the head on accident the first time, telling you that you should sleep in his bed where it was “more comfortable”, but you never listened and he seemed to be getting used to it.

That brought you to where you are now, already beginning to feel slightly comfortable and at ease in the large apartment and with the man that owned it. You were still slightly shy around him at times, but you seemed to be coming around a bit more, and Yoongi too seemed to be becoming little by little more talkative with you. Even if it had only been two weeks (two weeks and two days to be exact) since you had started to stay here with him, you were beginning to really settle in and feel more comfortable around the man. You had gotten used to his routine, (which took a little to get used to since you didn’t really like to be left alone for such a long period of time) leaving early in the morning and coming how early afternoon. He still continued to take care of you of course, and little by little you both started to understand one another more.

Today, you decided to try and do something nice for Yoongi before he came home from work, to show him thanks for taking care of you. You thought about a few things, deciding they were no good for a human, and tried to think of all the things Yoongi had taught you. He always cooked for you when he came home, no matter how tired he looked, so you decided with a proud nod to do just that for him. You had absolutely no idea what to cook though (or how to for that matter), you checked off using the stove and oven, because well you had absolutely no idea how to use it. There were too many buttons and dials, you were sure you’d break it and make Yoongi angry- which was the last thing you were trying to accomplish.

You had watched Yoongi cook dozens of times, and you knew when he made you sweets he always used the jar of white powder on the corner of the counter top first. Taking the lid off the jar, you fisted a large amount of the powder onto the counter top, a thick white dust coating the air from the impact. You looked in awe at the soft powder now coating your hand and the counter, unsure of what step came after. You scratched your cheek with your fingertips confusingly, ears twitching in thought as you decide to take both of your hands and retrieve two more fist full of the powder. You giggled to yourself as a thin cloud formed around you once again, causing you the cough just slightly. Going to drop what was in your hands onto the counter top, you miss terribly causing most of the substance to land on the floor and thin black t-shirt of Yoongi’s that you wore. Your tail moves anxiously behind you, worrying how the hell you were going to get this off of his shirt and floor before he came home. You worried that he would be mad, and you had never seen him mad before. You quickly strip yourself of the shirt and boxers you wore of Yoongi’s, noticing you somehow managed to dirty those as well. You stood completely bare in the kitchen, forgotten articles laid on the floor at your feet with powder covering both of your hands.

You had just tried to do something nice, God you hadn’t expected to make such a mess so quickly. You were in the middle of an inner dilemma with yourself when your ears perked up to the sound of the lock to the front door unlocking and the large door swinging open. You stood frozen in place as Yoongi stepped inside, not having noticed you yet as he takes his shoes off and hangs his olive colored jacket up. His eyes finally meet yours, widening as he takes in your naked form standing frozen in the kitchen. Tail and ears standing to attention, your eyes watched his in horror as he turned his back to you, ears turning a bright crimson red.

“I- where are your c-clothes?” His usual cool voice stuttered, body tensing as you took his odd tone as being angry with you.

“I-I’m sorry! I w-was trying to do something nice for you, to cook for you, and I didn’t- I didn’t think I’d make such a mess and I got powder all over your shirt and I’m so sorry I really didn’t mean to-“ Your mouth moves on its own, fear settling in as you try to explain yourself, explain the mess you had made. You were sure you ruined his shirt, ruined his kitchen somehow, and he was so angry he couldn’t look at you. Was he going to yell at you? You really didn’t think you could stand to have him raise his voice at you-

“(Y/N) it’s okay- just- remember what I said about wearing clothes?” Yoongi cuts you off, turning to face you with a hand over his eyes. You tilt your head in thought at his calm voice, trying to recall what he was talking about.

You did remember, in fact it was a human norm that Yoongi often reminded you of; to always wear clothes. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you naked, in fact this was one of many. You didn’t really understand what the big deal was, as a hybrid it’s when you felt the most like a hybrid. It was natural to your kind; it was something normal to you. But Yoongi- Yoongi reminded you constantly, every time he had seen you bare to be exact, that humans always wore clothes around others (with some exceptions, but he didn’t really get into those), and it was just something you should always do. You didn’t really understand why it was such a big deal, why it made Yoongi so flustered and embarrassed, but you had just added that to the list that you didn’t understand about humans.

“Right.” You mumble finally, watching Yoongi peek at you through his fingertips. You weren’t really sure what to do now, an awkward silence fell over the two of you, and you continued to stand there, searching for the right words.

“So you’re not m-mad at me?” Your worry had suddenly set back in, glancing at the mess surrounding you.

Yoongi, who still had a hand slung over his eyes, once again peeked through an opening in his fingers at you. He sighed heavily, hand removing from his eyes to reveal a dark tint to his cheeks as he made sure to only look at your face. He suddenly smiled slightly, one of very few smiles you had ever seen from him.

“No, I’m not mad. The flour will wash off of the clothes, don’t worry.” You let out a loud sigh of relief, feeling a slight weight lift from your shoulders. He makes his way over to you hesitantly, retrieving the fallen shirt and boxers at your feet. He sets it on the island behind you, glancing back at your face and grinning widely.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Yoongi said in his usual deep and collected voice, the blush that lined his cheeks finally beginning to fade slightly. He took your wrist gently, leading you over to the sink and turning the water to warm.

Every time Yoongi touched you, even as gentle as he was, it sent an odd feeling through your body and you weren’t sure what it was. You weren’t too familiar with your feelings in general, but you figured it was some sign of deep affection and dependence you were growing for him, a high liking that made you nervous. Even this close to Yoongi, his smooth hands cleaning the flour off of your hands, you thought he was so incredibly handsome. You had thought that, the first day he had saved you from those dog hybrids, and you continued to grow more and more surprised how handsome he was without even trying. You made up your mind that you felt deep attraction toward the man, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

Yoongi had successfully cleaned the flour from your hands and hair, chuckling softly as you giggle with him. He turns to look at your face once again, your tail flicking anxiously behind you as you notice how close the two of you were. The smiles fall from both of your faces, a light blush falling onto your cheeks shyly. He watches you carefully, either of you moving.

“You have flour on your cheek.” He mumbles, thumb coming up to swipe at the corner of your mouth. You say nothing, sure your tail was wagging like a piece of paper in the wind, but you couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed. Yoongi’s cool breath was hitting your face, and the strong sweet masculine scent of him was entering you nose. You felt light headed, this foreign feeling alarming you just as much as the look he was giving you. You were trying not to freak out honestly, the two of you so close if you just leaned forward a bit- your noses would touch.

“Uhm. I’ll get you new clothes.” He clears his throat after a long moment, his body language turning awkward as he breaks the thick silence. Yoongi hesitantly moves around you, almost as if he hadn’t really wanted to, and disappears down the hallways that led to his room.

You could still feel your cheeks burning as you began to feel shy once again, small even, and you couldn’t help to wonder;

What were you to Yoongi?


It had been about a month now, since you had started staying with Yoongi. The two of you had grown close, very close, over the short period of time, and it was as if you’d known each other forever. You had stopped asking yourself what you were to Yoongi, well kind of. You decided he would have kicked you out if he didn’t want you here by now, if he didn’t want to take care of you, and that set your mind at ease, slightly. You were worried though, because every time Yoongi touched you (which was a lot because you just loved- no needed constant attention and when it came from Yoongi- well you really couldn’t resist) an odd feeling would enter your chest. It had really always been there, but as time went on and the more time you spent with the blonde, the feeling seemed to get stronger. You were so unfamiliar with these feelings; you weren’t really sure how to go about them. It made it worse, however, the way he looked at you. He looked at you with such soft and admirable eyes, with so much love it made you blush just thinking about it. You felt like you could really be yourself around him, and like he was really himself in front of you. You weren’t as shy around him as before, and he was a lot less quiet in front of you, which you were thankful for.

“(Y/N)?” You’re suddenly snapped back into reality from your thoughts, a smooth hand running up the expanse of your bare thigh. You laid perched up on Yoongi’s lap, head resting on his shoulder as he softly pets at your thighs and back. You hadn’t even realized you were letting out low content purrs, nuzzling further into Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Hm?” You mumble, eyes drooped slightly as they fall onto whatever was flashing on the TV.

“I asked if you were sleepy.” He chuckled, hand coming to scratch the spot he knew you loved behind your ear. Your purrs became slightly louder, tail swaying happily beside the two of your bodies.

“Yes.” You sighed, tired but not really wanting to get up and leave the comfort of Yoongi’s embrace.

Yoongi had picked up on this, figuring you weren’t planning on moving anytime soon. He scoops you up, a squeak leaving your parted lips from the surprised movement. You whine, cool air meeting your exposed legs that were snuggly snuggled in Yoongi’s warmth moments before. Long tail wrapping securely around Yoongi’s waist, you hold onto his neck, watching as you two grew closer to the bedroom door. After some maneuvering to get the door open and closed, you’re back is met with the soft familiar bedding. The long shirt you had been wearing rode up your thighs slightly from the impact of him setting you down, the panties Yoongi had gotten you (much to his embarrassment) peeking out slightly. It was nothing new, Yoongi had seen you in less than this yet his eyes still quickly looked away as a deep blush fell onto his cheeks.

“Are you going to stay with me?” You weren’t really sure why you asked, Yoongi and you had been sharing a room for weeks now, but something in the way he stepped toward his closet to change made doubt settle into your veins.

“Of course.” He says finally, after clearing his throat and returning with a pair of sweat pants and thin shirt on. His cheeks were almost back to their normal color, but you watched with a pout as he seemed to avoid looking at you.

“Yoongi.” You whined, scooting up onto your knees to get closer to him. Yoongi’s large t-shirt fell slightly from one of your shoulders, watching as the male pulls the covers back and moves to lay down.

“Hm?” He mumbles, looking as if he were trying to get comfortable but not making any move to look at you. You didn’t like it at all, it made you feel like he was ignoring you even though he really wasn’t.

You watch as he lays back, eyes closed with his head falling onto the pillows and his arms coming up to rest behind his head. You wanted attention, more importantly Yoongi’s attention. You were still trying to understand humans, to understand Yoongi. You didn’t like that every time he saw your bare skin he seemed to pull away from you, like all the progress the two of you made throughout these weeks was out the window. Yoongi still reminded you that being naked was indecent and it wasn’t something humans did, but you still just didn’t really understand what the big deal was. You still had a hard time remembering that, to understand it really, but you had been really trying to follow this rule and keep Yoongi from pushing away from you.

“I’m sorry.” You say sadly, crawling over to his laying form and straddling his hips, before you even really realized or processed what you had done. Yoongi’s eyes snap open in alarm, his eyes meeting yours in a look that sends a blush to rise to your cheeks. A deep blush mirrors onto his face, and you suddenly realized this wasn’t the best idea to get Yoongi’s attention.

You move off of him quickly, not even waiting to hear a reply from him as you curl into a small ball on the other side of the bed, face burning and heart racing with your back to him. After a long moment you hear him shuffling around, and you worry he was going to leave and sleep on the couch like he used to. To your relief, the sound of the bedside lamp was clicked off, darkness swallowing the room.

You couldn’t help feeling slightly upset, the hybrid in you craving for attention, for the attention of your owner- or whatever Yoongi was to you. It was more than that though, more than just liking Yoongi’s company, you liked Yoongi (a lot), you depended on him, depended on him in ways you hadn’t realized before. You wanted to say something, apologize for- well whatever you had done. You were too shy though, and you grew angry at yourself, thinking you were over feeling that way in front of him. You felt small and uncomfortable, the air in the room thick, but you tried, you really tired, to ignore it and just fall asleep.


It had been about a half hour or an hour, you guessed, and you couldn’t fall asleep. You couldn’t fall asleep thinking Yoongi was mad at you, couldn’t imagine closing your eyes and drifting off into sleep while you were so far away- not being close enough to him. You were so used to curling up in his arms, it felt really odd to not be. You hated yourself for seeming so needy- knowing it was the hybrid in you that craved for Yoongi because he gave you everything you needed (maybe even more for that matter).

You couldn’t take it anymore, sitting up and quietly trying to make your way over to where Yoongi laid comfortable. Eyes shut, you were sure he was asleep, which made you feel slightly better because he couldn’t deny you then, right? You push your head lightly into the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar safe scent as you finish curling your body into his. Legs tangling with his, hands bawling into his shirt as you finally begin to feel comfortable. Warmth radiates from Yoongi’s body, causing soft purrs to spew from deep within your throat. With Yoongi’s scent and warmth surrounding you comfortably, you felt at home as your tail began to lightly sway on its own in pure contentment. You found your tongue poking out and licking the smooth sweet skin on Yoongi’s neck, and before you can even register what you had done might be a bit odd to humans, a deep groan falls from Yoongi’s sleeping form. You freeze, tongue frozen on the skin as an arm is circled around your waist suddenly, worried you had woken him- that you’d had been caught.

Though as you peered up at his face, you saw his eyes were still closed, soft breaths leaving his parted lips. You return to his neck, the tip of your tongue going back to work on his neck as soft quiet purrs began to once again bubble out from your throat. You just had to keep going, the sudden urge to claim him as yours- the sudden feeling of possessiveness sending an odd shock through your body. The thought of someone else being even near him, touching him-

“(Y/N)?” A deep voice laced with sleep rang through your ears, and you suddenly freeze- knowing this time you really had woken Yoongi up.

“What are you doing?” He sounded half asleep still, voice not really taking on any emotion except for a hint of curiosity.

“I-I was j-just-“ How the hell were you supposed to explain why you were licking his neck? You were so embarrassed- not really sure how to explain that this was how cat hybrids showed affection- possessiveness-

He was looking at you, a look that was filled with question but softness. You were at a loss of words, ears lying flat atop of your head, not really sure how to explain yourself, and you found that happening quite often in Yoongi’s presence.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly, sounding so small. You hadn’t realized you were basically on top of Yoongi, and you found it in yourself to not really care at the moment, just keeping your face hidden in his neck.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He chuckled deeply, securing his arm once again around your waist to keep you close. It was such a Yoongi thing to say- leaving the thick wonder if it was okay or if it really wasn’t. You decided not to say anything, to try and snuggle even closer to him. He squeezed you tighter, his other hand running up and down your exposed thigh sending your heart to pick up slightly. You found yourself calming down and purring yet again, even as his hand skimmed a bit too high.


“Yoongi!” You yell, frustration lacing through your veins. You stood on the tips of your toes, trying, really trying your hardest to reach the bag of shrimp chips that were, for some reason, in the top cabinet that you couldn’t reach.

Yoongi suddenly appears, towel around his hips with damp hair. His chest was bare, and although you had stolen a few peeks at Yoongi while he was changing shirts before, you had never seen his full bare chest in perfect sight before. For some reason, it sent heat to your face, Yoongi seeming to be unfazed.

“Yeah?” He asked, watching you look over your shoulder at him, an almost relieved sigh leaving his lips as he confirms nothing was wrong. Yoongi had nearly fallen hurrying out of the bathroom from the sound of his name being called loudly, worried something had happened to you. But there you stood, only wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties (which wasn’t exactly new), your tail swaying almost annoyingly fast, ass on full display as you continued to reach up for something on the top shelf of the cabinet. You were driving him crazy really, always walking around like that, wearing his clothes.

He sighs, trying to ignore how good you looked like that, in his t-shirt, he reminded himself again, making his way over and reaching up to grab the bag you had been trying to get. Handing you the chips, he turns away, completely ignoring you and making his way back to his room to change. You stood there dumbfounded, afraid you had annoyed him or made him angry.

“Yoongi!” You whined, scurrying after him. You entered your shared room, finding him picking out his clothes.

“A-are you mad at me?” You said in a small voice, standing close to the door as if you weren’t sure if you should enter or not. He doesn’t turn to look at you, simply shuffling around his drawers.

“No, (Y/N). I’m not mad.” He sighs, glancing at you for a moment.

“Then, why won’t you look at me?” You mumble, your anxiousness causing your tail to sway quickly behind you.

“Because you drive me fucking crazy!” He suddenly shouts, causing you to jump as he looks at you with a fire now burning in his eyes.

“W-what?” You say shakily, not understand what he was saying. He runs a hand over his face in frustration, and you decide you had definitely done something wrong, something to anger him. Your ears fall flat atop your head, an odd feeling entering your stomach as you wonder what will happen next. You had never seen Yoongi mad before, you didn’t know what to expect.

“You drive me crazy (Y/N). You just don’t get it.” He huffs, beginning to pace the floor as if he were in thought. You were beyond confused. What had you possibly done to drive him crazy?

“I-I don’t understand.” You were really trying, you still didn’t have the hang of these human norms, had you done something that you shouldn’t have to make him mad and you didn’t even know?

“I know you don’t! I just- I can’t.” He sat on the edge of the bed, setting his head in his hands as if he were in defeat. You were startled, and worried. You had no idea what you did, or how to fix it. All you knew was that you didn’t like that look on Yoongi’s face, at all. And to think that you caused it, really pained you.

“I’m sorry.” That was the thing you said when you did something wrong, right? You thought it was fitting, and really you had no idea what else to say.

“I don’t want you to apologize.” His voice is muffled by his hands, and you felt a sinking feeling enter your stomach.

You felt so unbelievable anxious, as you began to creep over to the other side of the bed. You sit a bit away from him on your knees, tail wrapping around your waist to comfort yourself. You yearned to reach out and touch Yoongi- to nuzzle into his neck and have him hold you. You had decided a few weeks ago, after you had finally come to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to just kick you out- that this was permanent- that you in fact liked Yoongi, you liked Yoongi a lot. It scared you, because it wasn’t in the way you thought a hybrid should feel toward their owner. But Yoongi had never referred to himself as your owner. He didn’t really seem like the type to do so, not knowing if you’d be comfortable with that title. He seemed to always take everything at your pace, but maybe that was the problem.

You inched your way to Yoongi’s sitting form, hand pawing at his back to test the waters right now. He didn’t more, at all, so you took that as an okay to move closer. The tip of your tail brushed against his still bare back, your body trying to maneuver so you could nuzzle into his neck. You settled with resting into his side, soft long tail now wrapped comfortingly around his slim waist. Nuzzling your nose into the crook of Yoongi’s still bent over neck, you licked at the skin softy, apologetically. The position was awkward- not comfortable for surely either one of you- but you didn’t want to move, didn’t want to move from the warmth of Yoongi as you tried to comfort him.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered again, voice muffled from Yoongi’s skin. You continued to offer soft kitten-like licks to his neck, suddenly feeling his body moving and you worried you had made his anger worse from your display of comfort you were trying to offer.

“(Y/N), I-I-“ He looked at you, giving you a look of complete desperation. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat. He helped you move into his lap, letting you snuggle into him like you usually did.

“I really can’t take it anymore (Y/N)…” He whispered, hand petting up and down your back. You whined, still not understand what he was talking about- what he was trying to say.

“Can’t take w-what? Me?” You suddenly had the alarming thought. Were you too much for Yoongi? Had you really been a burden- an annoyance to him- this whole time and you hadn’t even realized?

“Yes, you- but you just- you just don’t understand.” He sounded defeated- sad even, like he didn’t really know what to do.

“T-then make me understand.” You were getting upset, feeling like you were being blamed for something you didn’t even know you did. You were trying to be patient, trying to let him talk, but he was really confusing you, and you wished he would just spit out whatever he was trying to say. A gush of air left his lips, and you were suddenly being turned around in his lap with careful hands.

You stared into your favorite pair of eyes, watching as they glazed over with admiration and love. Your breath was suddenly caught in your throat, caught off guard from how close the two of you were. You could see the small fine details of his face, and you couldn’t help the warm feeling that swelled into your chest from how handsome he was. Your eyes widen on reflex, watching in shock as the space between the two of you seemed to be disappearing by the second. Was Yoongi going to-

Then it happened- soft plump lips were pushed against your own, and you found yourself freezing, not knowing what to do. You had never kissed someone before, you had never even come close- so you honestly had no idea what to do. Yoongi’s eyes were squeezed shut, as if he were worried you’d reject him- tell him to get away from you- but you honestly couldn’t help melting into him a bit more, even if you just sat there not really responding because you had no idea what you were doing, but you liked it, a lot. He pulled away suddenly, eyes opening slowly to look into your wide ones.

“I shouldn’t have done that, I-I’m sorry.” You had never seen such a shattered look on him before. You had never seen him look so defensive- so nervous.

You pouted, not liking the look on his face and not liking the warmth that had left your lips. You leapt forward a bit- lips falling onto his roughly. A loud purr erupts from your throat, a fuzzy feeling wrapping around the warmth Yoongi was making you feel. A noise of surprise fell from Yoongi’s mouth, your lips swallowing it up as his hands come up to grip your waist to prevent either one of you from falling over. You licked at his lips, the hybrid in you suddenly standing on edge. He let you be for a little, letting you lick and kiss at his lips before pulling away to laugh lowly.

“Here- like this.” He grinned slightly, before bringing his lips back onto yours. You really couldn’t believe how soft Yoongi’s lips were- how perfect they felt and fit with yours. You let him do all the work- you let him lead the kiss and show you what to do. This kiss felt more natural- more human. And you felt okay with this, okay with being this close. Closer than usual, in this different way. You didn’t mind him kissing you, in fact you liked it- a lot- probably more than you should have. You wanted to tell yourself this was wrong, that this was stepping over some unknown boundary of hybrid and owner, but Yoongi had never set those boundaries, and maybe this was why. You felt happy, loved, and you knew from this point forward, you were falling for this man, and you were okay with it.


Since that night, Yoongi and you had grown even closer. In fact, the two of you shared kisses quite often, and as time went on, they seemed to be getting more and more heated. There had been a few times you had subconsciously began to grind down in Yoongi’s lap, a few groans being passed between the two of you until he would stop you, face flushed and looking nervous. This was all so new to you, the feelings you were feeling, the new side of Yoongi- you were really trying to get used to it. You loved it though, you loved how much affection Yoongi was showing you lately, and you loved how much you were learning about him.

You really liked learning more about Yoongi. You liked that he didn’t need to whisper all of his deepest secrets into your ear because you felt like you could see into his heart- see who he truly was behind all of the fronts he put up in front of others. You found that really special, and maybe it was just the hybrid in you that made you pick up on small details, but you seemed to really be able to pick up on how Yoongi was feeling without him even telling you. You had never really thought about it before, but Yoongi didn’t treat you like you were some hybrid pet that didn’t have feelings. He truly cared about you, about your wellbeing and your feelings. And you had never had someone like that in your life before.

It was rough sometimes, when Yoongi was away at work and you longed for him. Your mind was always on constant thought of- well, everything, but it seemed that it went into overdrive once he was gone. You thought about so many things, always having to do with Yoongi, and you really just wanted him there with you, holding you and kissing you, but you didn’t want to be selfish (maybe). You couldn’t help starting to wondered if this was what humans called love.

“(Y/N)! I’m home.” Your ears instantly perking up at the familiar voice, feet springing off of the windowsill that you had comfortably been curled up on. You raced toward the door, catching Yoongi just as he hung his coat up, and dove straight into his arms. He chuckled deeply, offering a sweet kiss to one of your ears. It twitched at the feeling, a purr escaping past your lips.

“Missed you.” You breathed out, reaching out, not waiting for a reply, as you grip his shirt and kiss him wetly. His warmth and scent instantly filled your body, and the two of you melt into one another. He grips your waist, your tail snaking around one of his arms to keep him close. Yoongi lets out a shaky breath as you begin to lick into his mouth, tongues meeting passionately.

“Baby, I need to get changed.” He mumbled against your mouth, the name sending a jolt through your body. He had been calling you that a lot lately, and it honestly made your insides feel like they had liquefied.

You pout, following closely behind him as he enters both of your shared room. You move to sit on the bed, waiting patiently until he was done getting changed so he could give you more attention. You watch him disappear into his closet, leaving the door cracked as he begins to get undress. As soon as the sight of his bare back muscles enters your line of vision, you looked away feeling a weird sensation enter your body. Luckily, he returned rather quickly, because the urge to look began to eat away at your consciousness.

“Where were we?” He smiles, taking a seat next to you on the bed to have you scurry onto his lap to reattach your lips. You didn’t think you would ever get tired of the feeling of Yoongi’s lips, you honestly wished you could kiss him forever. Your tail was swaying behind the two of you in excitement, the kiss growing more heated.

Wondering hands began to wonder, which wasn’t anything new, and you found yourself grinding down into his lap in want and need. You didn’t really know for what; you were so inexperienced you sort of just let your instincts and Yoongi guide you. A deep groan erupts from Yoongi’s chest, his hands moving down to grip your hips. You pout to yourself in your mind, knowing this was usually when Yoongi would stop you, pull away, and you really just wanted to keep kissing him.

But he didn’t.

You were pleasantly surprised really, your excitement obvious as you grip his shoulders tighter and grind a bit more eagerly into his lap. It isn’t long that you start to feel something odd against your ass, it didn’t really take you long to connect the dots either, Yoongi watching you carefully the whole time with half hooded eyes. You weren’t dumb, as much as it had seemed, you were just simply inexperienced- but you got the basic idea of things. You were quite honestly feeling embarrassed now. You didn’t really know what to do, if you should continue or stop, even though you really didn’t want to. Yoongi could sense your reluctance, your confusion and hesitation, and he simply gripped your hips a bit tighter, reassuringly.

“Keep going.” He said deeply, breathlessly. He was trying to help steer you in the right direction, to make you comfortable and offer some reassurance to ease your on edge nerves.

“Yoongi.” You nearly meowed, feeling yourself getting wet as he helped guide your hips to continue.

“Your tail’s moving really fast.” He observes, obviously trying to calm the thick air that had surrounded the two of you. You scoffed, but nonetheless cracked a small smile.

You didn’t really know how far this was going to go, you were willing to test the waters because it was Yoongi and you knew he’d never hurt you. You were incredibly nervous though, not wanting to mess something up and make Yoongi uncomfortable or freaked out. You had decided that you really liked the way Yoongi’s hands felt on you, and you decided that you really liked the groans he was letting out every time you would grind down just a bit harder on his hard bulge.

“I-I don’t really know what I’m doing I don’t-“You paused because his hard dick pressed tentatively against your clit and you actually let out a moan- which sounded more of a purr than anything.

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’ll help you.” His voice seemed to have dropped even lower, the deep sensual sound causing your body to jolt, tail standing tall and on alert.

You suddenly realized that Yoongi was letting you do what you wanted. Not forcing you, not asking you any questions, letting you take it as far as you wanted. He was letting you stop when you wanted, letting you pick what was okay and what wasn’t. The sheer thought has you soaking the panties you wore more, the thought of Yoongi taking care of you-

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you are.” He mumbles after releasing a heavy groan that shook into your body as well. His words made you blush, you were sure even your ears that were covered in fur had turned red in color, the compliment making your heart swell.

A large hand is suddenly running up the expanse of fur on your tail and- oh god- you jolt forward, the sensation setting your nerves on fire. the moan you let out was so obscene, Yoongi had groaned along with you. Chills ran down your spine- and if only you had known your tail was so sensitive- Yoongi continues to dig his fingers gently into the fur on your tail, running them up and down it and causing moan after moan to spill from your lips. Each time he got to the tip, your body would jolt, causing your hips to grind down even harder on Yoongi’s jean clad dick.

Yoongi.” The sound that comes out with his name is really ridiculous- and you just wanted his hands everywhere- you really couldn’t take it anymore.

You dive off of him, landing on the large empty space next to him on the bed- ass sticking high in the air. You wore your usual attire- this time a large hoodie of Yoongi’s that now pooled in a heap of red just below your breast, white panties exposed with a large wet spot in the middle. The sight was absolutely enticing to Yoongi, mouth agape and watching as your tail moves back and forth as if to lure him in. Your chest was heaving- so worked up from just that- but you couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed right now.

“I- are you s-sure?” When had he stood up? You hadn’t even realized he had moved, so caught up in your most definitely inappropriate thoughts.

“Yes!” You say annoyed, wanting him to touch you right now. You felt like everything was moving so fast but not fast enough at the same time, you just wanted Yoongi to keep making you feel things you hadn’t before.

“Baby- lay on your back.” He says after taking in your needy form. He had never seen you like this before, and god did he love it.

You huffed, hated laying on your back because you could never get comfortable because of your tail, but you listened nonetheless. You watch him carefully, your hybrid instincts wanting nothing more than to be mated- to be fully claimed as Yoongi’s. The thought made you lightheaded, and you started to feel nervous. You watched with alert eyes as Yoongi stripped himself of his t-shirt, leaving his chest bare and as many times as you’d seen him shirtless- you still couldn’t help but stare.

You watched his suddenly nervous movements, seeming to falter under your gaze. It made you yourself slightly nervous, because you had no idea what the hell you were doing, and you needed Yoongi to lead you. You reached from him, and he thankfully comes over and towers over your smaller frame. You touched everywhere really, anywhere your hands could make skin on skin contact. You had touched Yoongi’s bare skin a few times, but never like this, never for this long. You were entranced by the smoothness, how pale and soft his skin was. You hadn’t even realized he was watching you, watching carefully and even offering a small grin when you finally realized.

“I like touching you.” You said as you thought, not realizing the filter in your brain hadn’t sorted that out as staying just a thought-

“I like when you touch me.” Before you had anytime to even be embarrassed he was replying easily, like he didn’t even need to think about the words.

“I like when you touch me, and kiss me.” You said again without thinking, being honest, as you run your hands down his shoulders to his back, feeling the skin heat up under your touch.

“I like you.” The words set a different fire in your body, instead of raising the heat of being mated- of being completely wrecked by this beautiful male above you- a new fire of complete admiration and affection burned. The atmosphere had changed, changed from the heated, neediness, to a calm caring, loving air. You didn’t really know if he meant the words the way you wanted him too- the way you would have meant them if you had said them yourself. You decided you didn’t want to ask- not yet- because his confession meant he at least felt something toward you, right? And that was enough for you right now.

“I like you too.” You found yourself mumble back, seeming fitting to say it back since it was true.

A large grin was plastered onto his face then, and he reached down to kiss you gently. You gripped his arms because you felt like you were falling, your head was spinning, and you just wanted Yoongi to be everywhere. He continues to kiss you, and there was so much emotion in the kiss it really wasn’t helping your spinning head. You feel slick fingers at the hem of the hoodie you wore, and the two of you broke apart so he could take the unnecessary garment out of the way. He scanned your naked chest, for the first time, since he always got so flustered when he had seen you naked. You guessed being naked was a bigger deal to Yoongi than you, which was okay.

You were beginning to get nervous, you really didn’t know what to expect, but you really tried to tell yourself that you had Yoongi here with you, and he’d never hurt you. You felt the sudden shock of a tongue lapping at your neck, just like you usually did with Yoongi, and it was enough to send a loud moan out of your mouth. Besides licking he sucked at the thin skin, and you arched slightly into him, not even realizing your tail had wrapped around his waist and you had started to purr once again. You really didn’t think you should have been this worked up so easily, but it was Yoongi- and he definitely knew how to make you feel good.

Yoongi’s hand snakes down your body, nerves standing on edge because honestly, he was so nervous. He didn’t want to hurt you, didn’t want to do something that you wouldn’t like. His hand rubs at the skin on your stomach above your panties, muscles jumping to attention. Yoongi continued to pepper kisses along your shoulder, collarbone, and neck, hand finally skimming the top of your panties as he begins to carefully pull them down. You lift your hips, eager- cool air hitting your wet heat and causing your thighs to subconsciously close on their own. Moving down your body cautiously, Yoongi made sure to maintain eye contact with you in case you showed any sign of resentment. You didn’t of course, looking innocent and ready for whatever Yoongi had in mind.

Your insides felt like they were waiting to spark alive, watching anxiously as Yoongi’s face is level with your heat. His cool breath continued to make you shiver, his eyes searching yours for one last time for any resentment as opens your legs. Tongue coming out to kitten lick your clit, you shudder as pleasure courses through your body. You had never felt something like this before, and really it was so overwhelming.

Yoongi didn’t exactly give you time to process what was going on- what was about to happen- already beginning to lick and suck your folds and clit into his mouth. You were so wet- tasted so sweet- Yoongi was really going to lose his mind. You find your fingers weaving into the soft blonde locks of his hair, not realizing how hard you were gripping it until you felt the pleasure of Yoongi’s mouth disappear.

“You’re going to rip my hair out.” He was looking at you, smugly, and you honestly hadn’t really heard what he had said. Chest heaving up and thoughts scattered.

He decided to not wait for a reply, which you were thankful for because you were honestly sure you had forgotten how to speak. He continues to do his previous actions, sending such intense pleasure through your body, moans falling from your lips so loudly, you felt like your whole body was on fire. With your head tilted back, you were sure it was going to snap off from how fast you looked back up, feeling the sudden pressure of a cool finger against your entrance. He rubbed the tip of his finger teasingly against you, watching as you moved your hips toward him.

“Are you sure?” You were surprised he hadn’t asked you sooner, the uneasiness in his voice obvious even though he tried to mask it. You moaned in response, nodding quickly.

“Please.” You groaned, surprised by the voice that met your ears. It was music to Yoongi’s, and you suddenly feel the intrusion of his finger, your hole seeming to open up and welcome it. He gaped at your pussy, watching as you seemed to swallow up his finger, begging for more. Yoongi wanted to be careful though- would force himself to go slow and easy unless you asked otherwise. He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt you-

“Yoongi- more.” Your hips were grinding down onto his finger, and he was honestly (yet pleasantly) surprised.

He didn’t really know how hybrids worked sexually, he really knew little about hybrids in general, but you were helping him learn, and it surely seemed like hybrids didn’t need as much prepping as humans did. He didn’t question it- question you- because he figured you wouldn’t know, since you were so innocent and inexperienced. That was okay- in fact Yoongi liked it, a lot, because he felt like you were his, and his only. He cautiously adds another finger, feeling once again your wet heat swallow up the finger in want. He was in awe really, by the way you seemed to stretch and be ready for him already, the noises you were making, and how wet you were-

Yoongi found himself groaning, cock jumping in the confinements of his too tight jeans. He pumped the fingers gently inside of you, listening to the obscene sounds your heat made with each one. Your body was in complete pleasure, the intensity of it leaving you dazed. It was too much and not enough at the same time, and Yoongi seemed to be agreeing because with one last pump of his fingers and a sharp suck to your clit, he was standing to his feet, pants and boxers quickly laid forgot with your clothes around his feet on the floor. His cock stood tall and proud, precum leaking from the tip from watching you fall apart from such little action. Yoongi was thick, and you really didn’t know how that was going to fit inside of you, but you decided to stay calm and let Yoongi take control, to finally mate and claim you.

Already missing the remnants of Yoongi’s touches, you’re thankful when he climbs back on his rightful place atop you, staring into your eyes as your ears twitch unknowingly. He had gotten so use to you being a hybrid, he sometimes completely forgot you had cat ears and a tail. He loved the soft fur that lined them, especially loving it at times like now when your tail tangled back around his waist when he had finally been back into your reach, the soft fur tickling his skin. He watched you for a long moment, watched how your chest heaved and how your hair fell just slightly on your face. He watched the peaceful look you gave him, the loving purrs still falling from deep within your throat. You really were a beautiful creature, and he didn’t know what he had done to deserve someone as amazing as you. He loved how different you were, how caring you were (and God were you caring), and just how much you were an amazing person all the way around. There were so many things he loved about you, so many things that had made him fall in love with you, and he really just couldn’t stop his heart swelling as he looked at you in that moment. He really hoped you understood, just a little, how much he loved you, how much he needed you- Yoongi really wasn’t good with words. He hoped after this moment, you’d understand him just a little bit more, understand his feelings, since he had never really set them straight with you.

You paw at his chest, watching Yoongi seem to fall into deep thought as he stares at you, your desire for him growing more. He smiles at you, gripping his cock and moving to position himself at your entrance. He had slightly forgotten how hard he was, and honestly it was beginning to hurt as he took the sight of your body in again. Bending down to kiss your lips one last time, he begins to carefully, ease his aching cock into your entrance. The groan he lets out goes straight to your core, the sound so enticing- you wanted to hear it more. A slight burn was met as Yoongi pushed into you, but your heat welcomed Yoongi’s cock, much like his fingers. It didn’t hurt at all, luckily, it felt so good you actually found yourself moaning so loudly, your head shook.

This, this was much different than Yoongi’s previous actions. In fact, it felt so much better, more intimate and passionate. Your heart swelled at the thought of finally becoming Yoongi’s- the thought of him mating you, and being everywhere all at ones- your legs went to his hips, pulling his body the rest of the away onto you along with his cock inside of you. He moaned at the feeling, elbows on either side of your head as he began to take that as an okay to slightly move his cock back and forth. You instantly nuzzled into his neck, breath coming out shaky and hard as you begin to lick at your usual spot, at times accidently nipping when he went just a little deeper than before. He groaned above you, obviously not minding, and you were more than happy to continue- to mark him as yours.

“Yoongi!” A shout falls from your lips as he picks up the pace, holding you tightly and licking at the fur surrounding your ear. You were sure you stopped breathing then, until you felt a few wet fingers toying with your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, body shaking slightly from the intenseness of everything.

“I love when you moan my name.” Yoongi’s voice sounded deep, hoarse and dry as he pounded into you. Your tail and legs squeezed tighter around him at his words, your hands moving to fist into his hair for something to hold onto. You felt an odd sensation in your stomach, a feeling that was starting to become too overwhelming, and you squeezed your eyes shut body going tense as your orgasm hits you like a train.

Yoongi!” You scream, not even realizing how loud your voice had become. Body going completely numb as you’re sent into a storm of incredible pleasure. Yoongi continues to thrust into you, helping you ride out your orgasm as he holds you tightly in his arms, groaning loudly from how tight you had suddenly become.

“Oh god, (Y/N).” Yoongi’s orgasm shatters through his body as he shutters, cumming inside of you.

He falls onto you after a moment, face buried in the crook of your neck as he tries to catch his breath. You’re pretty sure you couldn’t move, not that’d you want to. That was absolutely amazing, and you find yourself combing your fingers through Yoongi’s hair as he tries to catch his breath. For some reason you became incredible nervous after what had just happened, not knowing of what would come next. Anxiety overloaded your body causing your tail to sway uneasily to your side, and with each swat, it lightly hits Yoongi in the side, a huffed groan vibrating through your skin as he shuffles onto his forearms to look at you.

His fringe was sweaty, and clung to his forehead. He somehow still looked absolutely breathtaking, even looking completely fucked out. You couldn’t help the sour look that crossed your face, waiting, just waiting for him to say something- to break the thick silence as it began to cloud into the room. He didn’t though, seeming much more entranced with gazing at you, a small satisfied smile laying onto his features.

“What?” You asked suddenly self-consciously. He leans down to brush his lips against your cheek, the action making you blush slightly.

“Nothing.” You weren’t sure if he was being honest or not, but you figured you’d let it go for now.


Since that day, Yoongi and you had had sex- a lot. Yoongi had corrected you when you had called it mating, saying that just sounded a bit weird and that wasn’t what humans called it. You didn’t understand, like usual, not really getting what else there was to call it. He had told you, you two were making love, and the words had sent your whole body on alert. That had been the first time Yoongi had really given you an insight on his feelings, which had caused you to stutter and asked why he would call it that.

“That’s what you’d call it if two people were trying to show how much they loved each other, don’t you think?” You had accidently swatted him clear in the face with your tail, having been perched comfortable on his lap, unknown emotions filling your body. You were pretty sure he had basically just confessed he loved you, and you realized you hadn’t given him a proper answer because you were well- in shock.

“Yeah, that’s sounds about right.” After a long pause you had made your mind up, settling on confessing your own feelings along with finally confirming your own with yourself. But the feelings were mutual, and that alone made you so happy you found yourself leaning in to kiss him.

“What took you so long?” You groaned playfully, curling further into his body, just trying to get closer. And you came to the final conclusion that you were happy here with Yoongi, that he had found you. You were okay with how things were right now, and how things had turned out.

You realized, sitting there, listening to the beating of Yoongi’s steady heartbeat that it didn’t matter how long the two of you had known each other. It didn’t matter that you may have not known every single thing about him, because you had time to learn, and you could hear what was really important, you could hear the silent unspoken words in his heart, and that was what really mattered.


A/N: Thank you so much to the anon that requested this, I really hope you and everyone liked it. This took me forever to write for some reason, I kept having writers block so bad because I’ve never written anything like it before, and I kept staring over because I thought it sucked, but it’s finally done! Once I got a good idea of where I wanted the story to go, I actually had a lot of fun writing it (maybe a little too much). It’s a lot longer than I expected too. I actually got a lot of inspiration from the song Hear Your Heart by James Bay (hence the title), and if you’ve never heard it, I highly recommend it! It’s one of my favorite songs, and it really gave me a good idea of where I wanted this story to go. Anyways, I really hope everyone liked it, and I’d love to here what you thought.

anonymous asked:

don't know if you watch pd101 but if you do could you pleaaaase write a kang daniel college!au? he has effectively ruined my life 🙃🙃🙃🙃

i do!! ill write a mini one for him ^^

  • major: public health + paramedic certificate because he wants to work as a part of an ER response team
  • sports: dance team, football team
  • is essentially the school sweetheart and everyone knows him as the guy who’d give you the shirt off his back if you asked
  • quite literally,,,,jisung played a joke once and asked daniel if he could borrow his shirt because his next period class was SUPER cold and daniel,,,,,,,,,,literally took off his shirt
  • rumor has it some chick fainted from the sight of his bare shoulders but no one knows if this was confirmed or not (seongwoo claims it totally is true)
  • but like he really does his best to try and help others out,,,especially freshman or younger students in the course who seem to be struggling with adjusting to like college life
  • he’s like the reliable big brother who is smiley and soft and will teach you silly dance moves on the quad
  • but is also super serious about helping people and isn’t scared of anything, from jumping into a fire to save someone in need of medical assistance to carrying people who’ve broken legs,,,,,,,
  • also let’s take a moment to imagine daniel in the paramedic like get up like the uniform,,,,thank u 
  • everyone thinks its super adorable that daniel’s first rescue story was saving his cat who got stuck in a tree
  • like how TYPICAL and CORNY but also,,,,,,he’s an angel who walks the earth amiright
  • seongwoo is always like “my bestfriend is going to be the next iron man~ captian,,,,where did you study again my dude??? canada?? captain CANADA” 
  • and daniel is like embarrassed but also,,,,,he loves his friends and is happy they support him but seriously captain canada thats worse than when jisung got the football team to refer to him as quarterback cat-lover
  • you’re actually one of the TAs for one of the tests in the paramedic course and there’s a requirement of paramedics being able to carry at least 125 pounds by themselves and you’re supposed to be checking off who can pick up the human dummy and who cant
  • and so you’re going down the list and ur like “next,,,,kang daniel?”
  • and you don’t look up when he steps over you just motion with your hand toward the dummy and you’re like “pick him up and walk three laps around the room”
  • and when you look up you almost drop your clipboard because ,,,, this handsome boy smiles and is like sure!! and uve never seen someone so happy to drag around a plastic human before
  • but there he is,,,,hosting the dummy up like it weighs n o t h i n g
  • and he turns to u and is like “can i try carrying two?” and ur like ,,,,uh,,,,,s,,,sure???
  • and once again he baffles you,,,picking up the other dummy and going on his merry way
  • and in what seems like the shortest period of time than everyone else you tested he does his three circles and stops in front of you
  • carefully setting the dummy’s down and wiping at his forehead,,,,that pretty grin on his face
  • and he’s like “all good??”
  • and ur like,,,,y,,,yes,,,,um,,,,,,,,yes you’re good
  • with a bow he says thanks and leaves the room and you’re like what,,,,,,who,,,,,,,,,,,,,
  • and you look down at his name again and you’re like “kang daniel,,,,,,,are you superhuman/!??!?!”
  • for the next week you can’t get him off your mind,,,and you’re sure it’s because he’s not only strong and cute but because you’ve been a TA for the program for this whole semester and no one has ever just looked that happy to do the tests
  • and one afternoon you’re eating lunch with a friend in the campus cafe when you spot daniel,,,,at a table with his health books stacked up near his tray (which is also stacked with food)
  • ad at some point ur friend is like heY,,, hEY stop staring you’re going to DROOL
  • and ur like !!!!!! WOOPS but they also nudge and are like “kang daniel huh? he’s cuuuuute~ go talk to him!!!” and ur like HA,,,I ,,,,,,,,wasn’tlookingathimiwaslookingathis,,,,,sandwich
  • and ur friend rolls their eyes but when u look back daniel???? is staring back at you
  • and when you make eye contact he perks up and waves and ur like ?????????? looking around and then pointing at urself and he nods and waves u over
  • and u get up and ur friend lets out a whistle as you go to sit beside him and ur like ,,,,hey,,,, and he smiles again and the way his cheeks go up and his teeth show is SO DAMN CUTE
  • and he’s like “not to sound full of myself but i noticed you were looking at me for a while, whats up?”
  • and you,,,,,,almost dIE of embarrassment on the spot because oh frick he saw you
  • but you’re also like o,,,oh i ,,,i was just,,,,,um,,,,,,ur the guy who carried two dummies at the test a week ago??? and i was like oH is that you or not you you kno-
  • but daniel just chuckles and closes his book 
  • and he’s like “yep that was me,,,,,but i dont think thats why you were looking.”
  • and you feel ur mouth go dry and you’re like i,,,, um– but daniel just points to your friend with his pen and is like “do you think they’ll be ok with me stealing you away for a little date to the movie tonight?”
  • and ur like!!!!!!!!! ,,,, o,,,oh and u look at ur friend who just shooting hearts and thumbs up at u
  • and daniel is like lol they remind me of jisung but ur also like ,,,, i,,,i think ,,, they’ll be ok with that
  • and daniel winks,,,handing you the pen and rolling up his sleeve
  • and he’s like “here, write your number down and ill call u to set up a time”
  • and u cant believe it as you’re scribbling down ur number,,,,,but it’s true he calls u around 7 and u guys go see a movie and it’s adorable and daniel is a gentleman through and through paying for everything,,,,,telling you he likes the way you look all serious during the dramatic scenes,,,,holding your hand when he takes you back to your dorm
  • even a light kiss on your forehead,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,it’s a dream come true
  • dating college!daniel: he is really good in all his classes but he tends to be LATE so he’s always rushing in the morning but he never fails to send you a ‘good morning, i love you’ text, doesnt really like coffee so u get into the habit of buying him smoothies and he thinks its cute how u remember this about him also those smoothies are really good for his vegetable intake u are so thoughtful, you and daniel adopt the newest paramedic trainee woojin, daniel is suchhhhh a tease he always sneaks up behind you when ur studying to wrap u up in his arms and kiss on your neck, jisung always makes faces when u guys pda but tbh he loVES seeing daniel so happy with you, seongwoo is like “im his original soulmate” but he’s just joking hehe, daniel sends u pics of cats he sees on the street, you guys get matching rings like a month into it because kang daniel goes HARD for love, favorite dates range from laser tag to night fireworks on the beach, thinks its cute when you wear his flannels to class or during finals because u guys are both studying and u cant see him so often but they remind you of him, daniel takes you with him to get his first tattoo and u hold his hand the whole time, he’s kinda bad at realizing he isnt invincible so sometimes ull find scrapes on him and have to bandage him up, did anyone say morning after laughter under the sheets: yeah i did for KANG DANIEL who loves skinship and YOU 

anonymous asked:

Honestly I don't think Jensen and Misha are social friends, just good work buddies, but they never socialize outside of work. I think Jensen like Misha, qirks and all, but he doesn't love Misha like a bestie, more like love him because he's familiar and part of the same show for almost a decade.

Well, of course you’re entitled to your opinion, but– one thing you should know is they do hang out outside of work:

They’ve gone to the race track together:

Took family vacations together

Gone out for ice cream with one another:

They’ve gone on fun little spa trips:

And after conventions, they go and hang out– looking altogether, friendly.

Not to mention, Misha was at Jensen’s wedding which sure– could just be a work-friend thing, but I know I would still want to be fairly close with someone if I was going to invite them to such a personal event.

Now, I am not arguing the fact that Jensen and Jared hang out more– of course they do. They live right beside one another, their kids go to the same school, they’ve known each other for longer than either of them have known Misha, but that still doesn’t mean that Misha cant be super close with Jensen (and Jared) as well. Those two have talked about going out to dinner, just the two of them. They’ve talked about enjoying wine together (which is not something one normally does at work).

They have spoken of times where they have long, deep, emotional talks, and how much they enjoy those moments. That’s not something I normally do with my “work buddies”.

The fact is, they are great friends (if not more), whether or not they live near each other. My best friend of over twenty years has lived in Colorado for most of that time– but that doesn’t mean I love her any less than I did the friend who lived up the road from me. I cared for them equally, we all just had different types of friendships– but that didn’t make them any less than the other.

You don’t need to think that they’re in a poly relationship– that’s a matter of opinion; but to ignore just how much they do care about one another, how much they enjoy each other’s company– to write off their very deep friendship because of some physical distance between their homes, and not as much publicized evidence as others might have, is to completely disregard and disrespect things that they’ve specifically said about each other.

Jensen being best friends with Misha doesn’t make him any less Jared’s best friend.

It just doesn’t.

I don’t know why it always has to be a competition.

Walking in the Wind is a bonus song on Made in the A.M. It doesn’t fit easily into the One Direction canon; it’s not swaggering or fit for a stadium. There are no rivals, no romantic interests, no ships. This is One Direction doing Paul Simon. This is One Direction sitting back, taking a breath, settling into a story.

From the opening, stepping guitar, Walking in the Wind is unhurried. A week ago you said to me, do you believe I’ll never be too far. The song is an exchange between one who’s lost someone, and the one who’s been lost. The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye, means we’ve already won. The latter remembers their time together, and the former insists: it isn’t over, you’ll find me, there’s still more to come. We had some good times, didn’t we? We had some good tricks up our sleeve. The one who lost sings. And the other responds: But it’s not the end. I’ll see your face again.

Walking in the Wind isn’t a sharp song. It’s imprecise. But it points at a singer trying to interrogate the loss, trying to understand the promise and the inevitable breaking of that promise. The song examines, rather than argue. It doesn’t defend against the present or future absence. There is no armor, no mechanism. Simply truth. The song looks back on what once existed, and recognizes it as a faded medium: a Polaroid.

But that’s okay! The song insists. It’s catchy and chill. The melody picks up and sweeps forward. They sing, insistently: You will find me, in places that we’ve never been. For all that the song is about, the music is upbeat and optimistic. It’s okay, it will be okay. We’re sure of it.

Harry Styles, a co-writer on Walking in the Wind, said of another song he wrote, Olivia, that “it doesn’t have to be so literal.” Olivia doesn’t have to be a person, he insisted. It could be a place. “Sometimes I think it’s cool to take an emotion and personify it.”

I think the same thought applies to Walking in the Wind.

The song is about loss, yes, but not necessarily one loss, one absence. As adults, we become inured to small deaths. The numbers we lose, the friendships that fall away, the moments we forget. All small, nearly imperceptible endings in our daily lives. So many, that soon we stop counting. We’re taught that every door closing will open another, and we whisper this to ourselves, enough so that we forget to notice if another door does open, or if the first door simply stays closed.

We come to understand these endings by containing them within a story. We accept a break up because a best friend says, “Sometimes, relationships take so many parts of you, that by the end, you’re left with nothing,” and you decide to think about the break up as you would a survival story, rather than the more pedestrian “we stopped liking each other.” A move becomes a step forward, rather than a step away; a fight becomes a miscommunication.

Walking in the Wind is trying to decide which story to tell. The one of the absence, or the one of the future reconciliation. This song is about loss. But it’s also about the stories we tell about those losses, and the ways we claim them.

Yesterday I went out to celebrate the birthday of a friend. But as we raised our glasses up to make a toast, I realized you were missing.

Stories rename themselves as we go. Their edges shift. Their definitions change. The way we experience them in the moment is different from the way we experience them in retrospect, and this is what Walking in the Wind hinges on. It’s optimistic, still, in that moment of reckoning. The song insists: you will find me. What has happened, has happened. But more is to come.

This isn’t a song about mourning. It’s about the story that comes from the mess. It’s not an ending, or even a punctuation mark. It’s a semi-colon. Unresolved.  

We may not know if it’s okay. We may not know for awhile.

We had some good times, didn’t we? We wore our hearts out on our sleeve.

We don’t have to understand.

Goodbyes are bittersweet. But it’s not the end.

Not yet.

I’ll see your face again.

-Kelsey Ford is a writer living in Los Angeles.

Best Friends Don't Do This || Park Jimin

Bestfriends Don’t Do This || Park Jimin 

 Words: 2,159 (fuuuuuuck)

 Genre: SMUT 

 A/N: oh my god I’m back at it someone stop me someone send me Jesus bc I need it. I am trashhhh. Anyway, lol, requests are open! Send us some of your deepest desires and we will get to it! ^.^

 -admin courtneycat


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 Spending time at Jimin’s always meant something would go down that night. Whether that would be a movie night, a sleepover with lots of icecream and snacks, or random bruises from mini fights you two would have. Jimin is your bestfriend, has been since you guys were just ten years old. You’ve seen everything about him- from the bad to the good. Bad hair cuts and breakups, to movie nights and prom dates. Now, sitting at the early ages of twenty, you guys both are realizing the differences between then and now.

 A piece of popcorn was thrown at your face, hitting you dead smack in the middle of your forehead. Jimin giggled at your cross eyed glare you had given him.

 “Excuse you, sir, could you fucking not?” He only laughed harder. The Captain America movie was no longer being paid attention to, as it only seemed to turn into background noises.

 “It’s movie night ma'am, get off your damn phone! This is our tiiiiiiiiiimeeee,” he wailed at you, throwing another piece of popcorn at you. His missed this time. Glaring at him, you threw a Twizzler at him. Though not at his beautiful face- wait, what? Shaking your head from that bizarre thought, you messaged your friend to stop bothering you- that you were with Jimin. She messaged you a few dirty emojis back. Rolling your eyes, you locked your phone and placed it on the cushion next to you.

 “Sorry, Y/F/N is messaging me weird shit,” you told him. His eyes scrunched up and a smirk took over his lips.

 “What kind of weird shit? Tell meeee!” He demanded. You shook your head, “Nuh-uh! Not telling. Just weird stuff you don’t need to know, trust me,” you laughed it off. You curled yourself into the couch more, resting your feet onto Jimin’s lap. He made a face at you again, but ignored it, paying attention to the movie finally. Poor Chris Evans. 

 The room felt quiet. Which was extremely odd because Jimin is almost always making some sort of noise- humming, singing, muttering, snoring, and lets not forget… yelling. Yes. The amount of times Taehyung has come over during our friendship nights is astounding. And whenever he does come over it’s constant noise times five because Taehyung. Yes, you probably understand.

 Taking a peek over at Jimin, you see that his eyes are focused on the movie. You mentally shrug and continue to watch the movie. Suddenly, he grabs your feet and tugs you down the couch. You let out a squeak of surprise and grab onto the side cushion for dear life. 

 “What are you doing, asswipe?!” You screech out at him. He only smirks and climbs on top of you. Sitting on your legs and pinning your arms to the couch. He then grabs at your phone, making your eyes widen in fear. Shit.

 “No no no no no! Hey, put that down!” You yell at him. You knew he was going to find those text messages. Your friend is extremely dirty and you guys would talk about interesting topics. By interesting topics, you mean sex. And by sex, your topic of the day was thigh riding. And somehow your friend had mentioned Jimin’s thighs and you had somehow agreed that he had nice thighs. And now here you are. Being encased by said thighs and you couldn’t help but quickly glance at them… because he was coincidentally wearing shorts. 

 Jimin only smirked as he clicked the home screen button. The lock screen showed the selfie of you and Jimin at the carnival from the last time you guys were hanging out. Thank god you had a passcode on it. “Hah! That’s right, so get off me ya lard butt-” you started but,

 “Hahaha!” Jimin had figured out the passcode, “now let’s take a look at those messages.. mhmm…ah! Y/F/N..” he muttered.

 “Please no, please I’ll do anything! Just give me my phone back! Please!” You begged out. He stopped what he was doing and glanced down at you underneath him. Your hair was sprawled out around your head and in your face a little. Your eyes looked at him as you chest heaved up and down because this whole time you have been fighting and struggling to get loose from his grasp. What you didn’t know is that Jimin liked this. You beneath him, sweating, begging. Yes, he liked you. And he definitely knew what those texts were about.

 Still smirking at you, he locked your phone and tossed it to the ground. You looked at him and noticed something much different about him, yet you couldn’t tell. He let go of your arms and slowly trailed his hands down them, and to your back. His trail left what seemed to be fire as your back arched by itself. Jimin then lifted the top half of you up and soon enough you were face to face.

 “Uhm, uh thanks. For-for ya know. Uh not looking at the messages,” you stuttered out. He nodded in acknowledgement, but his hands never budged, but to be honest, you didn’t want them to move. You almost whined when you felt his right hand move up to the back of your neck. Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes looked into his. What was he doing? And why weren’t you stopping this?

 “You’ll do anything? Anything for me?” He asked you. Too caught up in the moment and paralyzed from his touch, you just nodded back at him. He softly chuckled and went with his gut for the first time in a while. He lowered his face close to yours and instead of backing out, you closed your eyes and just went for it.

 Soon enough, his luscious lips were attached to yours. Your mind went blank and nothing around you seemed important to you anymore. Not the movie, not the time and definitely not your phone. You cupped your hand to his cheek and shimmied closer to him. He dipped you back down to the couch and lowered himself down with you, lips never detaching. Holy hell you were kissing your best friend and you liked it. You liked it a lot. 

 You two separated for the briefest of moments and looked at each other. You were both breathing heavily and as you looked back down at his lips and back to his eyes, he reattached his lips to yours again. You were in heaven. And he thought the same. He slipped his tongue out and ran it against your bottom lip. Moaning, you parted your lips and let his tongue in. Never in your life have you ever thought about French kissing Jimin in his apartment. 

 Too caught up in the moment again, you gasped as Jimin flipped you around. This time he was underneath you and you groaned at all the dirty thoughts that ran through your mind. Jimin’s hands trailed down to your waist and quickly pulled your sweater over your head and threw it somewhere in the room. A low moan rippled though the back of his throat and you could feel the heat pool in your stomach. His hands attached themselves to your breasts and massaged them, casually tweaking at the perky buds. You were a mess at this point.

 “Ah, Jimin, I think, oh god, I think you’re wearing too much,” you moaned out. You tugged at his shirt, and he got the hint. He pulled the t-shirt off. You didn’t holy your moan in at all when you saw his upper half. Dear god, you ran your hands down his tanned skin and lowered yourself down to kiss his torso. 

 “Fuck, baby,” Jimin moaned out. His hands moved down to your waist and rubbed his hands around. As you began to suck small little marks onto his collarbones and neck, he lifted you up off him.

 “Okay, baby. You said you’d do anything, right? You can’t go back,” he told you. You didn’t care at this point. You nodded. He could get you to do anything and you would care. He propped himself up on the side cushion and smirked.

 “Ride my thigh, baby.” He patted his thigh. You just blinked. So he did read the messages. Fuck. But looking at his thigh, you threw all caution to the wind and straddled him. His smirk got wider and his hands gripped you hard against him.

 “You ready, pretty girl?” He asked you. All these pet names got you off and you were more than ready for this. Nodding, you bent down and kissed him again. His hands moved your lower half back and forth, the rocking motion sending your mind into overdrive. The amount of pleasure you were received was insane.

 If Jimin were to be honest right now, the vision of you, getting yourself off only by the sheer friction of his thigh, could have him cumming himself in no time. Your body glistened with sweat and mixed with his, and he thought that must have come second to things that make you incredibly hot. Just everything about you could get him off.

 “Oh, fuck, Jimin. Oh god, you’re so good,” you moaned out. His shorts would bundle up and run at your clit and send you into overdrive. Sure enough when you looked down, you notice the wetness that was slowly running along his thigh. Fuck was that a sight. You looked back at Jimin and notice his eyes were screwed shut. You decided to help him out a bit. Running your hands down his chest again, you let your hand trail into his shorts and grab his dick. His eyes shot open and stared into yours.

 “Oh baby girl,” he groaned out. You swiped the precum that gathered onto his tip and brought your fingers to your mouth and sucked. “Fuck,” he dragged out, flinging his head back as he moved you faster along his thigh. You squeaked out at the friction and nearly cummed right there. 

 You grabbed his length again and ran your hand up and down. The moans coming from him pushed you further to your orgasm and you tried moving even faster to help him reach his. One of his hands reached up and brought your face down and kissed you hard again. And just in seconds you were sent into oblivion as your orgasm ripped through you. Your sight blurred and gasps left your mouth. The sight of you jerking and gasping, pushed Jimin to the edge and right after you, he let go and white spurts spotted his chest and your hand.

 You collapsed onto his chest, not caring about his mess sticking all over the place, cause really- you left a mess on his leg anyway. Who cares right now. Breathing hard you managed to speak out, 

“Oh shit, Jimin. What the fuck… just happened?” His hand ran up and down your back as you leaned a bit back to look at him.

 “Something that should have happened a while ago, ahh,” he was now blushing and you couldn’t hold back the grin on your face, “this is so backwards but uh, do you wanna go on a date sometime?” You leaned your face back into the crook of his neck and gave him a peck. “I would love to,” you whispered into his skin. You could feel the shit eating grin on his face and he snuggled you closer to him. Resting there longer, you could almost fall asleep. 

That was until- 

 “Hey guys! Guess what Jungko- WHAT THE HECK GUYS. Did I come at a bad time- oh my god!” Shouted Taehyung. Jimin threw the nearest pillow at him.

 “Get the fuck out, Tae!” 

You heard the door slam back shut, loud yells of disgust still being shouted down the corridors. You couldn’t help chuckling a little as you knew that Taehyung will always be Taehyung in the end. Jimin shifted a bit underneath you and you looked down at him curiously. His face looked a worried.

 “Umm, I’m not so worried that my dick was hanging out for Tae to see, but uh, I got a second confession for you,” his voice was small and scratchy, but you just shrugged and let him continue, “okay, so this was kind of planned?” 

 “What does that mean? What do you mean plan, Park Jimin I will end you!” You started grabbing at his bare chest with your hands. 

 “No no no! It’s not what you think really! What I mean is is that Y/F/N was basically trying to get you to think about me like that because I told her that I liked you…” he trailed off, a bit embarrassed.

 “Park Jimin… I have liked you for a very long time,” you giggled a little, “uh, thanks for finally doing something. But, oh is Y/F/N is a dead man.”

Originally posted by nnochu