running on three hours of sleep and have been listening to [title of show] all morning

One Exciting Ride (Gaston x Reader Modern Coffee Shop AU)

One Exciting Ride: Part 4

@sebastianbride @animeacetheheart @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @hobbithorse19 @the-fic-files @epicfallenismine @gawston @molethemollie  @supernaturalimagines666 @blackxthexbeast @hellonheels-x0-blog @mochiiswan @amazingangelaaa @frozenhuntress67 @totallyjoshlertrash @withouthannah @lunarinne @bucky-with-the-metal-arm​ @sherlocks-timetraveling-assbutt @theoncergames@ronijdubb@definitely-nota-fangirl@thenextdoorangel@daisiesflower

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

You and Belle continued to debate whether or not Gaston and Adam had made out at least once for a little bit before she had to go for the evening. Checking the time, it was around 11:30 and you hadn’t any word from Germain or Juliane. Opening up messenger, you found “Captain Georg von Trapp” in your contacts and texted him real quick.

-> want me to stay the night or nah?

While waiting, you searched in the bedside table drawer for the remotes to the T.V. After finding them, you turned on the Netflix app and started searching through the recommended section. You settled on rewatching F.R.I.E.N.D.S yet again- you weren’t really feelin’ any of the other shows, ya know? Ross was being a total dick when your phone rang. Older folks really don’t like texting do they?

“Evening, Germain! Congradulations on lucky number 12!” You greeted after picking up the phone. “How is she?”

“Thank you, (Name). You’re a real gem you know,” Germain chuckled on the other end of the line. “She hasn’t dialated past 10 cm yet, so we may be a while. On the way over, I called Nanny Wetstone and had to leave a message. Has she contacted you at all?”

Pausing Netflix, you relaxed on the bed more comfortably. “Negative, Capitaine, Marrisa has not contacted me at all.”

Germain chuckled at the title before sighing. “(Name), you don’t have to call me that.”

“I know, but you just remind me of von Trapp.” You shrug, you had a point, Germain did look like the father from the Sound of Music- even if he acted the complete opposite. “So I’m stayin’ the night then?”

“If you’d like, dear.” Germain paused for a moment, asking you to hold on as he talked to a doctor. “Gaston texted me not long ago saying he’s staying in for the night. Apparently he and Adam got into a tiff again. He can watch them if you want to go home.”

Seeing the flash of headlights go through your window, you acknowlegded that Gaston had indeed arrived home. “No offense, dude, but I wouldn’t trust that boy with safety sissors, let alone my favourite kids in town.”

You could hear Germain sigh on the other end, you could just picture him tiredly running his hand through his graying hair. “I understand, (Name). He’s not the most responsible lad. I’ll go ahead and pay in advance, added to your account as usual?”

“Yes sirry! Take all the time you need,” you sighed awkwardly, using one hand to type in your password to your computer so you could soon check your bank account balance. “I don’t really have much going on right now.”

“Very well then, (Name),” Germain sighs, his voice seems distracted, he must have just been handed a form to fill out. “I’ll keep you updated. It’s late though, so you get some sleep, you hear?”

“Yes, sir,” you chuckle, struggling to type with one hand. “Good luck, give Juliane my love!”

“Will do, good night (Name).”

“Good night, sir.”

After finishing up a few things on the computer- Germain had yet to pay you, but you expected it by morning- you closed it and decided to relax in the queen sized bed. You took your hair down, tossed your bra off and snuggled in nice and cozy while watching the old 90’s sitcom.

An hour or so later, you were finally three seconds from lullaby land when there was a knock on your door. Taking two seconds to debate whether or not you should just ignore it until they went away, you realized it was probably one of the kiddos who had a nightmare and needed comforting. Not wanting to be cruel, you sluggishly forced your eyes open and removed yourself from your cozy cocoon to zombie walk to the door. 

“Yes?” You muttered, eyes not yet adjusted to the light from the hallway and brain not yet fully cognizant.

Near automatically, a small pair of arms wrapped around your legs and a weak voice saying “Nounou, I’m scared!” Looking down, you saw the familiar mousy brown hair of George, the five year old little boy with his fathers eyes.

Picking up the young boy, you held him close and brought him back to the bed to sit down. You sat with him on your lap

“What’s wrong, baby?” You mutter to him, smoothing down his messy hair with your hand as you rock him gently back and forth. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“I’m worried about Maman,” he finally whimpered, clutching onto you as tight as he could. His chubby little cheek was pressed into your shoulder, his arms hardly reaching from one of your shoulders to the next.

“Oh, honey, she’s fine! She’s at the hospital with all the nice doctors, they’re gonna take great care of her, I promise.”

“But- but-” George had a problem of stammering when he was upset, most kids his age do.

Gently rubbing his back, you whisper. “Calm down, Georgie, use your words.”

The five year old took a deep breath before trying again. “Gerald said that the baby is going to rip mommy open! She could die!”

“When did he say this?” You knit your brows, mentally starting the lecture you’re going to give that pre-pubesent mogrel.

“He came into my room! He said that he was worried too!”

“Oh did he?” You sigh, taking George by the shoulders and move him to look at you. Using your thumb to wipe away his tears, you look to him kindly. “Remember what I told you about Gerald?”

“He’s- he’s a big dumb, dumby head?” George sniffled, using his chubby fist to rub his eyes.

“Yes, and?”

“He’s a meanie butt-puddle?”

Chuckling, you nod and look at his large brown eyes. “That’s a good lad, what do we do when someone is being a big dumb, dumby head and a meanie butt-puddle?”

“We don’t listen,” George huffed, calming down his sniffles as best he could and pouting sternly. “Because they’re just trying to make us into big dumb, dumby head and meanie butt-puddles!”

“That’s right!” You smile, poking him in the tummy causing him to giggle. “So don’t worry, Maman is going to be fine, I promise! She’ll come home and be in a rolly chair for a little bit, she might not walk right at first, but I promise, she’ll be just fine!”

George nodded, using the back of his hand to wipe away the trail of snot gathered there. Children can be pretty gross sometimes.

“Ya wanna know a secret?” You whisper, leaning in just a little and looking off to the side to ‘make sure no one was there’. George did the same and leaned close, nodding enthusiastically. “I was there when Gilly and Jeanie were born, and Gerald was scared then! Yeah! He was terrifyed, screaming like a baby that his Maman wouldn’t love him anymore now that she had two new babies.”

George laughed loudly. “That’s silly!”

“Yes, it is,” you chuckled, tickling the boy a little. “Now come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

You walked hand in hand with little Georgie back to his room, tucking him in nice and cozy before kissing him on the head and walking out. Poor thing was asleep before you’d even closed the door.

Turning on your heel, you were met with a very naked and very muscular torso. Boredly raising your head, you’re met with a smug looking and half naked Gaston Desrochers. “Like what you see?”

Slowly blinking twice, you sigh deeply before walking away from him. “I didn’t when you sent the photo, I don’t like it now.”

Gaston, however, was very stubborn and matched your stride. “Okay, okay, I guess I used the wrong approach here,” Gaston said quickly, putting an arm around your shoulders as he trailed along with you.

“Ya think?” You sarcastically ask, rolling your eyes and pulling one of his fingers up and removing his arm from you. “What do you want?”

“A date,” the tall teen said simply, a bright smile on his face. “With you, tomorrow.”

“Gaston,” you sigh, lowering your head in complete done-ness. “You’re mother is in the hospital right now, having her vagina torn open by the head of your future brother, and you’re more focused on boning the babysitter?

“First off-” Gaston held up a hand, before shuddering violently. “I didn’t need you to be so vivid about birth.”

You shrugged casually, not really apologetic. He almost lost step with you when you unexpectedly turned a corner, but he managed to catch back up.  

“Second, I don’t want to bone you so much as just, ya know, go on a date!”

“Isn’t dating the help a bit below your standards?” You sass, tilting a head towards him and crossing your arms. “My father doesn’t make seven figures, you know.”

“You’re not the help, (Name)!” Gaston laughed, placing a hand on the small of your back. You said nothing to it, but instead sucked your teeth and gave him a sideways glare. “You’re my friend!”

“Oh really?” You chuckled, licking your lips and taking a deep breath. You’d already reached your guest room, so you stoped in front of it, crossed your arms and looked up at him expectantly. “Then what’s my last name?”

“Your what?”

You shrugged, looking to him with pursed lips. “Well, you learned my first name within the five hours since you last tried to hit me up, so if you were so interested, you should at least know my last name, yeah?”

Biting his lip, Gaston reached out and placed a hand on the door behind you, leaning down to be close to your face, a hand finding your chin to tilt slightly upwards. “Don’t you think you’re being a little silly, darling?”

Your facial expression of pure done-ness did shift at this sudden change of pose. Picking up a demure expression, you looked down, biting your lip coyly while twiddling your thumbs. “I think you’re right, Gaston…” you begin, not meeting his eyes. “I am being silly…”

You hesitantly put your hand atop the one he had under your chin, finally looking up into his eyes. “Oh Gaston, take me now!” You gasp out in a mocking tone, removing his hand from your face. “Get bent, kay?” You groan before opening the door blindly and stepping back into your room, leaving Gaston in the hallway.

“Suit yourself,” Gaston sighed as he shoved his hands into his pajama pants pockets and made his way down the hall. “I’ll get'cha sooner or later.”

I’d Kiss You With The Antidote - A CrissColfer Fic

I wrote this for a prompt asking for the aftermath of Confirmation Day and Darren’s performance of Teenage Dream in Toronto. 

Of course, since I can’t stay away from angst, get ready to read a fic that’s absolutely doused in it, but I promise there’s a happy ending. The title is my favorite lyric from Darren’s blatantly obvious CC song, “I Don’t Mind”.

Rated NC-17.

Warnings for mentions of Mia and the assistant, as well as issues with alcohol. 

Thank you my lovelies, I hope you enjoy! 

Read on AO3

Keep reading

Reflections of the Heart (Ch. 6)

Summary: The multi-chaptered, slightly smutty bodyswap fic that no one asked for. Featuring whiny/annoying!Dan, sassy/beguiling!Phil, unintentional innuendos, intentional innuendos, unnecessary kitchen supplies, and just a pinch of magic.

Warnings: none

A/N: I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. School and writer’s block have been kicking my ass. Anyway, this is the final chapter. Hope it was sorta worth the wait.

start from beginning, previous chapter, read on ao3

Dan is warm.

Keep reading

a long walk to a dark house - part four

title: a long walk to a dark house

author: @freakintveit

beta: @acciomoondew

artist: @thisisanotherhunter

overall word count: 45k

rating: pg-13

warnings: self harm, abusive relationship, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, itp (disease), depression, iron deficiency anemia (disease)

summary: dan didn’t plan to run away, but then again, it may have been for the best. he has an abusive girlfriend, a strange disease, and, in his opinion, nothing to live for. but when a stranger with brilliant blue eyes finds him and offers him a place to stay, dan discovers that he does have a reason to live after all. love.

author’s notes: I’ve been working on this for so long and I can’t believe it’s finally done, I’d like to thank my lovely beta, Lisa, and my amazing artist, Dani. Dani’s art can be found here. I’m eternally grateful for both of their hard work on this, and without them, I wouldn’t be posting this today. Enjoy!

click here for masterpost

Keep reading

Title: Fumbling

Fandom: K Project

Rating: T

External: AO3 /

Summary: Fushimi knows from the very start, that he’s different.

Notes: This was intended to be the ‘shorter’ Sarumi Fest fic and it ended up being the longer of the two. There were a couple parts I figured I could end it if I didn’t finish on time and both of those spots were soul-crushingly depressing, so luckily I finished on time :P

Keep reading

The Science of Sleep

This is some fluff for the long winter nights. No relation to the film Phil likes btw, I just liked the title. There’s some description of insomnia, but nothing too extreme. 

Wordcount: 2658

It is four thirty five on a Tuesday morning. As it’s midwinter, it won’t be light outside for a while. The room is dark, only lit by the dim glow of his laptop on the duvet. 

But Dan’s mind flares white-hot.

Keep reading

dead like me - part six

title: dead like me
summary: AU. he has more life in him than all the boys she’s ever dated.
pairing: sasusaku
listening to: placebo - running up that hill
note: late because i am the worst.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six


When she finally wakes, it’s long after noon. The sun hangs high in the sky, and the touch at her waist is both foreign and intimately familiar. Sakura stretches languidly, eyes clenched shut, and the arm encircling her falls back. Her sleepy mind is dissatisfied with this, and so she tugs on the limb and returns it to its place around her.

His skin is cool beneath her touch, and she frowns as she half-dozes back into oblivion.

“You’re so cold,” she sighs, “did I steal all of the blankets again?”

A low chuckle from behind her finally forces her brain to realize that having company in her bed is not normal, and she rolls over in his embrace to find Sasuke watching her with as much amusement as he is capable of showing. Sakura flushes to the roots of her hair.

“Good morning,” she mutters, with not a little embarrassment.

Waking up to a zombie hovering over her should terrify her, but the sight of Sasuke’s face merely leaves her feeling strangely serene.

“Morning is long gone,” he informs her, lips tugging upward in a gentle smile.

Glancing over at her alarm clock to hide her increasingly reddening face, she sees that he is right. It’s three in the afternoon, and she reaches up to violently rub the sleep from her eyes as she groans at the thought of the wasted day.

And then she remembers her promise, and her guilt intensifies. “I was going to check out the town archive today to see about your family, but they close in half an hour. We’ll never make it in time.”

Sakura screws her eyes firmly shut and lets her head fall back to the pillow with a soft thump. But the sensation of Sasuke’s cool fingers brushing her bangs away from her forehead makes her peek just a little.

When he sees that she’s looking, he shrugs. “I’ve been dead this long, what’s another day of waiting?”

But that logic doesn’t make her feel better. Sakura grabs her smartphone off of the nightstand and rolls over onto her stomach. Ignoring the winking emoji text from Ino, she opens up her internet browser to the search results she had been about to view yesterday before she’d been interrupted.

Her brow furrows as she scans the results. “These may not be as accurate as anything directly from the city’s archive, but at least we can get some idea…”

She trails off as her eye catches what she’s looking for, and Sasuke peers curiously over her shoulder.

Sakura turns her head to look at him, her eyes full of sadness and sympathy. “Are you sure you want to know?” she asks quietly.

He stares at her blankly, and she sighs. “Right, stupid question. Of course you do.”

But it’s hard to say the word around the large lump in her throat, and she desperately tries not to imagine his family’s last moments–Sasuke’s last moments–as the realization sets in that the Uchiha family was murdered.

“It was arson,” she whispers.


Later, in the car, the silence stretches on between them.

Sasuke has not spoken a word since learning of his family’s and his own fate, and barely heard when Sakura explained that his body must be so well intact because he died of smoke inhalation and carbon monoxide poisoning instead of being burned.

He nodded stiffly when she asked if he wanted to visit the place where they died, and now they are making the twenty minute drive to the outskirts of town, where his old neighborhood had once flourished, but now lies in neglected ruins.

Though she leaves the radio off, the silence is nearly unbearable to Sakura. She wants to say something, anything, to ease the anger and grief he must surely be feeling, but the words won’t come and Sasuke is even more stoic than usual, his expression blank and his eyes hard.

As Sakura takes in the dilapidated buildings, overgrown lawns, and rusted junk cars, a profound sadness settles in her bones. A hundred years ago, this was the wealthy part of town, the streets lined with extravagant manor homes, all of which are now crumbling and returning to dust.

She drives slowly down the street, pulling out her printed aerial view map. Sasuke’s house should be (or was) located on the next street over. Turning onto the street, tension and dread coils in her gut.

How will Sasuke react?

Sakura had thought that the house would have been demolished and the lot built over or left to fallow, but on this count she was wrong. As she pulls over against the sidewalk and gets out of the car, she stares in surprise. Demolishing the lot would have been far kinder.

Instead, the charred carcass of a once modestly grand manor rises from a jungle of tall weeds and uncut grass; the burnt support beams stick out into the air like broken ribs. The house had been completely gutted by the fire and must have smouldered for some time, the ash having long since blown away and leaving only scorched brick and rotted wood that somehow managed to remain untouched by the fire.

She turns toward Sasuke, who is already moving toward the aged wreckage, and the nightmare in his eyes is real.

“Sasuke, wait!” she cries, stumbling after him through the waist-high grass. But as Sasuke reaches the broken doorframe, another voice calls out from the street, causing them both to freeze.

“You kids shouldn’t be out here playing around. Not only are these ruins dangerous, this is a historical district, and the city prefers that they remain untouched.”

Sakura turns, and internally cringes at the man’s appearance, which is as oily as his voice. He is tall and unnaturally pale, nearly as pale as Sasuke, with long dark hair reaching down to his waist. His shimmery purple suit and gold tie give her the impression that this is a man with money and powerful, and his eerie yellow eyes seem as though they can see all of her secrets.

Suddenly, Sakura is immensely grateful for the hoodie that they borrowed from Ino’s boyfriend; it covers all of Sasuke’s white skin, and the hood and his bangs hide a good portion of his face and eyes from view.

“We’re just doing a paper,” she lies smoothy, adding a bit of a stammer to her voice for effect, “we’re researching the legacy of the city’s founders of industry.”

The man’s frown becomes an unnerving smile, and Sakura has to suppress a shudder. “Well, I happen to know quite a bit about that, why don’t you give me a call sometime? Meanwhile, let’s let the dead rest in peace, shall we?”

Every instinct in Sakura’s body tells her not to trust this man, but in the interest of concealing their true motives for visiting, she moves forward to take the business card from him. It’s pitch black, with the name Orochimaru spelled out in embossed violet lettering. Sasuke neither moves nor makes a sound.

She forces a smile onto her face. “Yes, sir, we’re not here to cause any trouble. We’ll be going now.”

Her skin crawls as he reaches out to shake her hand, and his grip is limp and cold. His tongue flicks out rapidly to wet his thin lips, and Sakura is reminded unpleasantly of a snake.

He waves to them as he gets back into his expensive car, rolling down the window. “I do hope to hear from you soon, I have so much information that you may find…useful.”

Sakura doesn’t miss the way his eyes flicker to Sasuke as he rolls the darkly tinted window back into place and drives off. She lets out a sigh of relief and turns to Sasuke, and almost immediately her heckles are raised in alarm.

“Sasuke?! What’s wrong? What is it?”

But he doesn’t answer her, his teeth barred in a feral snarl and his crimson eyes blazing. The tomoe in his eyes are spinning faster than ever, and his fists clench so hard that she hopes he doesn’t end up snapping his brittle finger bones.

When he does finally answer her, his voice is low and menacing and full of a burning fury that she did not think he was capable of.

“That was my father’s old business partner. Orochimaru? I’d know him anywhere. What’s he doing still alive?”

Sakura shrugs, at a loss, and wonders how far down the rabbit hole she’ll have to go to solve the mystery of the dead boy who’s steadily becoming more and more important to her.

Title: Mistletoe

Characters: Baekhyun/Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,703


      The trail up to Junmyeon’s house wasn’t hard to climb, it just took a great deal of time. Time that you weren’t sure you could spend with just Baekhyun, because Baekhyun was very loud today.

      “So, _____, what do you think Junmyeon is calling us all up for?” He asks.

      “Probably for the same reason as last year.” You answer.

      “You’re probably right. It is Junmyeon’s job to host a Christmas party every year.” The questions all sounded like this, easy-to-answer questions that Baekhyun should already know the answer to, so it felt like he was just making conversation to make it.

      Which, as much as you liked listening to him talk for thirty minutes straight, which wasn’t a lot, was unacceptable. You worked really late last night and you woke up really early this morning so you wouldn’t be late. If Baekhyun can shut up for a minute, you were going to make him.

      “Can you stop talking for a bit?” You ask him, none to politely. He didn’t seem offended, but instead, he looked amused.

      “Sure.” You were surprised by his obedience, but wouldn’t argue it. If he was willing to be quiet without a fight, you were grateful.

      But this was Baekhyun, and you should have known he was just joking around.

      “So why do you want me to stop talking?” He asks after ‘a bit’. You give him a sideways glance, then you look back at the path. You wish you were closer to Junmyeon’s home, but you still had about ten minutes of walking left.

      “Because I’m tired right now.” You tell him, rubbing your eyes as if you needed proof. “And you’re loud.”

      “Well, you’re loud too.” He says. Before you can ask him how the hell you were being loud, thin fingers pull the back of your winter coat back and then a chilling yelp escapes your lips. “See? You’re even louder than I am!” Baekhyun smirks, backing away before you could smack him.

      You awkwardly reached for your back, trying to shake the snow from your coat, but to no avail. It was stuck.

      “You are so dead, Byun Baekhyun!” You dart after him when he runs for it behind some bushes, an angry clump of snow in your fist as you chase him. His laughter resonates through the once peaceful silence, but stops short when you latch onto his sleeve.

      “H-hey! Wait, _____!” He tries, dodging every time you come close to shoving your hand in his shirt. “We’re adults now, isn’t this a little childish–”

      “Speak for yourself!” You finally get your hand on his skin by yanking up his shirt and he shrieks, swatting at your hands but you press on, desperate for revenge.

      He calms down after a few seconds of squirming, and then his wavering frown is replaced with a smirk. “You are so getting it–”

      “Baekhyun! _____! What are you two doing over there?” When you turn around, you see Chanyeol’s form on the path. “Junmyeon’s house is over here!”

      “Stay there! We’re coming over!” You say and run before Baekhyun could decide to exact his revenge on you. He couldn’t do anything when at the party, could he?

      “Merry Christmas!!” Junmyeon shouts when you open the door. You return his warm smile and hug him. “I’m glad you three could come!” He exclaims.

      “We’re glad to be here, Junmyeon.” Baekhyun tells him, putting his arm around his shoulder. “Where’s the beer?”

      “Straight to the point, huh?” Junmyeon asks, chuckling. “No beer this time, just cider.”

      “Ah, that’s right. Jongdae brought the beer as a surprise, didn’t he?” Baekhyun reminisces for a moment. “Maybe he’ll do it this year too.”

      “No, I warned him.” Junmyeon says as he leads the three of them to the living room. There were cute holiday decorations everywhere, and the fireplace was cozy and lit. “Trust me, there will be no drunk people by the time you leave tonight.”

      “Tomorrow,” Chanyeol corrects him. “We’re staying the night, remember?”

      “No, I never told him.” Baekhyun says over his shoulder. “Surprise.” Junmyeon doesn’t look bothered at all, though, and you can’t help but admire how laid back he is.

      “You’re staying too?” He asks you. Before you can say no, Baekhyun answers for you.

      “Yeah, she is.”

      “Are you serious?” You were halfway up the stairs after the party when Baekhyun drags you back down.

      “I’ve never been more serious.” He tells you. You don’t take him seriously and protest, taking your arm back.

      “It’s late, I want to sleep.” It almost sounded like you were whining, and you were, kind of. You were tired, and you wanted to catch up on the hours missed from last night.

      “Then you can sleep in my room afterwards,” Before you can deny that too, he continues. “But you will play this game with the rest of us, or else it’s no fun.”

      When you’re back in the living room, Chanyeol and Junmyeon look at you in shock. “She’s really playing?”

      “I don’t even know what we’re playing.” You tell them at the doorway. Baekhyun smiles at them proudly and lifts his chin.

      “Yes, she’s playing.” Without your complete consent, the boys nod.

      “Then shouldn’t you get going?” Junmyeon asks. You would have been confused, but you were more focused on the sudden change of expression on his face. Junmyeon was never good at hiding things, because it shows on his face. Something was up.

      “Sure.” Baekhyun says, taking your shoulders and leading you to the couch. “You can sit here for now–”

      “No, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol stops him and ushers him away. “The game’s already started.” Baekhyun blinks at them, which confuses you, because you thought that Baekhyun was the one who made the rules.


      “It’s too late,” Junmyeon cuts in, standing up, as if to intimidate Baekhyun. It seems to work. “You’re stuck.”

      Baekhyun looks from you to Junmyeon, a range of mixed emotions on his face. Before he could do something, you glare at Junmyeon and Chanyeol.

      “I don’t even know what’s going on,” You say, crossing your arms. “Would someone explain?” The simple movement of Chanyeol’s finger pointing above your head makes you go pale. You don’t even have to look to know there’s a mistletoe hanging above the two of you, but you look anyways. “Guys…” You say tiredly, looking back at them. “How old are we? Are you seriously going to push Baekhyun into a corner over this?”

      Chanyeol makes a face that says 'yes’, but Junmyeon looks slightly regretful. Shaking your head, you grab onto Baekhyun’s collar and pull him forward. His eyes go wide as you say, “You’re all childish.” and then you press your lips against his.

      It was weird, kissing your friend, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, you think you may have liked it, had you not been so tired.

      You pull away, barely registering the dropped jaws in the room as you leave and go to your bedroom upstairs. The bed was welcoming and you let yourself get caught up in the way the sheets enveloped you.

      “Thanks for having us, Junmyeon.” You say at the door. Now that you’ve had a good night’s sleep, you haven’t felt this good since August!

      “Thanks for coming, it’s always a pleasure with you here.” He smiles, though, he looks a little on edge. You understand, since you were too.

      Since that morning, Baekhyun has been acting weird. And by that, you mean that he isn’t talking as much as usual. On the walk back down the trail, Chanyeol goes a different way and it’s just the two of you again.

      “So,” You try to start a conversation. The silence is deafening to you. “You’re uncharacteristically quiet this morning.” You comment.

      “I can’t be quiet?” He meant it as a joke, you knew it because he gave you a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

      “No, not Byun Baekhyun.” You listen to the loud crunch of snow beneath your boots as you walk, frustrated that the soft cushion of white hardened over night, until you can’t stand the silence anymore. “Oh, look at that.” You say, not really thinking about what you were saying.

      Before you could say you were kidding, Baekhyun spots what you were looking at overhead. “Is that..” You stand completely still, suddenly remembering everything from last night. “.. a mistletoe?”

      You aren’t ready for the look Baekhyun gives you, because when his eyes meet yours, the rush of blood to your cheeks makes you dizzy.


      “It is, isn’t it?” Something seems to peel away in Baekhyun and he doesn’t seem as weird anymore, and for some reason, it makes you even more uncomfortable. “You know what that means?”

      “Don’t be silly.” You tell him, looking away. “Let’s keep going.” He grabs your arm.

      “You were the one who pointed it out.” He grins, noting your discomfort. “If you didn’t want to, why’d you go and do that?”

      “I wasn’t thinking! I just–” You meant to finish your sentence, but Baekhyun’s face was so close now, too close, and it made the words die in your throat.

      “We’re adults now, _____,” He says. The white puff of air from his lips hits yours and it sends a wave of warmth over your cheeks. “But we can still be childish.” The comment makes you laugh, which is exactly what Baekhyun wanted, and he kisses you while smiling.

      This kiss was different from the one last night. You could actually feel his lips on yours, his hand on your arm, his hair on your forehead. You were aware of everything around you, and it made your head spin.

      When he pulls away, you lean forward on reflex, bringing him back into a kiss. It surprised you both, but neither of you pulled back until you remembered you were practically in the middle of nowhere and you had somewhere you were supposed to be.

      Even though it was cold outside, there was a constant warmth on your lips when you pull away that you can’t help but notice.

      “There’s only one mistletoe..” Baekhyun says quietly, a small smile on his face.

      “I know.” You reply, returning it.

The Man Who Looked Down

Before you read or listen to this, make sure you are alone. If you are in a room, close the door. If you are by a window, look outside and make sure there is no one there. The only way others should know about this story is by reading it, or listening to it themselves. Do not repeat this out loud to anyone, he will hear you.

But you are able to read it to yourself or record yourself. Right now, these are the only two exceptions I know about. Once you think you’re alone, look at the screen, and do not take your eyes off of it until you are finished reading or listening to a recording. He will know if you look away.

It started on Sunday, November 4th, 2012. I’m in my senior year of high school and I have…well, had a wonderful girlfriend. We were at my house, mourning about school the next day and terribly bored. She came over so I could help her with a project that just had to be due the next day. I had hoped we would be able to fool around a little, but she needed this A or she would fail the marking period. We finished around 8 o’clock and she didn’t need to leave until 10.

So we still had 2 hours with each other and the only other person who was home was my little 8 year old sister whom I had to baby sit. My parents were at some dinner meeting until 10, but I knew them too well. They would be home around midnight but I wanted to play it safe because they don’t allow my girlfriend over past 8. They were afraid I would get her pregnant or something. We went on the internet because there was nothing else to do. She wasn’t in the mood to fool around and I couldn’t stand another homework assignment. The internet was the only means of escaping these dull hours.

We watched videos on YouTube for a while, looking up the newest popular videos until we ended up watching some creepypastas. We both have been watching creepypastas before we were dating, so we knew what to expect and we had a hard time becoming truly scared of them like we used too. We kept trying to find some that would scare us, but the videos we watched weren’t as scary as we had hoped. By now it was almost 9:30 and we were upset that none of the videos we watched were creeping us out. We were about to give up on searching until I saw this unusual thumb tag. All it showed was a man standing with his head looking down and hair covering his face.

What was strange about the thumb tag was that there was no time limit and no author just a title that read, “The Man who looked down.”

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