#(she claims it’s thrifted (if you took her to an actual thrift store he would cry)) /j

[remember-ur-alive]

partially blind tvbbo seeing revivebvr for the first time,, his coat is so dusty and the clothes feel like they’ve rotted into such muted colors that for a second tvbbo sees the brown hair and the tall figure and thinks ghostbvr. it feels so wrong the second he thinks it, his shoulders relax just to tense again. he cries out “what the fuck happened” before he even remembers the yellow. and he squints to search again, but a big blob of yellow is so obvious (even more so when it’s missing). and revivebvr raises his arms in triumph at l’manhole, and tubbo manages to notice the very thin line of a cigarette jutting from the his hands and it just cements the sense of loss before the revived man can speak

[gendernewtral]

my bathroom sink isn't working again so it's time for a story about the plumbing in my apartment.

first things first: my shower does not have a door. or a curtain. no, it has an extremely small glass panel, a "physical barrier, that no matter how small, eliminates the need for a shower curtain," you might say (source: article my dad sent me when he saw the bathroom, that my roommate and i used to quote constantly). of course, it does absolutely nothing to keep water from getting on the floor past its reach, which is the toilet and nothing else. this isn't actually relevant to the plumbing issue, but i want you to know my pain.

now, onto my landlord. he is, to say the least, completely incompetent. the man took eight months to order closet doors for the bedrooms, and when he finally did he ordered the wrong size for my roommate's closet. honestly, we shouldn't have been surprised that he gave us the number for a plumber who had declared bankruptcy and no longer worked in the plumbing business.

the world's least functional landlord gave me two numbers when i moved in, one for "small" plumbing issues and one for "emergency" issues. you'd think the second would be generally unnecessary, but the pipes in this apartment complex (actually a converted shitty motel) are so fucking bad there's some kind of problem in someone's apartment at least once a month. as was apparently to be expected, sometime after my roommate and i moved in, our shower drain stopped draining. we attempted to fix it on our own but were unsuccessful. okay, time to call the" small issues" plumber, a task that will be simple and quick. oh, how foolish we were.

the number my landlord gave us went to an automated message saying the line had been disconnected. we checked the number again several times, and then decided to search for the company website since our landlord had obviously given us an incorrect number.

that innocent search started an evening long investigation involving insurance documents, court records, and some light stalking. unfortunately, nothing that happened that night fixed our drain, which continued to somehow worsen the already bad showering experience for about half a week.

that initial search told us that the recommended company was, in fact, not a company, but some guy with a dog. the glaringly bright red website listed an address in the city we lived in as well as the disconnected phone number.

i tried looking up his "company" on google maps to see if there was a phone number there. this search did bring up a phone number! however, it was the phone number for the "emergency" plumbing company my landlord had recommended. this is where the chaos truly begins.

one of the google reviews for this company was posted several years ago by a woman i will now call cheryl; this is an ode to the office desk decoration someone, presumably named cheryl, left at a thrift store that now lives on my living room coffee table. it is a simple yet beautiful wood block thing that spells out cheryl. it’s very important to me.

cheryl is a serial google reviewer, having left many, mostly negative reviews for a variety of companies. the negative reviews tended to be far longer than the positive ones, and frequently included personal attacks.

cheryl's review of this company was decidedly negative, personally vicious to the point of malice. she claimed she was a contractor, and as such recognized they had done a piss poor job fixing her septic tank pipes. she specifically cited the plumber my landlord had recommended, who will now be referred to deferentially as The Plumber, as the offender. The Plumber was apparently not just a piss poor plumber, but an extremely shitty person who had recently filed for personal bankruptcy. my roommate and i were stunned at her ferocious condemnation of this guy who, judging by the other reviews, seemed to be pretty okay.

these decent reviews, however, were much older than cheryl's comment, some by five or so years. it seemed there was a significant gap where The Plumber's plumbing was either too mediocre to warrant review, or he was AWOL. proof that it was the latter arose in an immediate response to cheryl from the business owner, saying that The Plumber did not work for them, and like other commenters she was confusing their company with someone else.

i've presented you with quite a tale so far, so to sum up the facts:

1 .my shower sucks 2. my landlord sucks 3. The Plumber is apparently not a plumber anymore, and bankrupt 4. cheryl has met The Plumber, apparently, and has some sort of personal vendetta 5. there's a poor local company here who has to deal with some mistaken identity bullshit constantly. they are but bystanders in this chaos, regularly fucked over because The Plumber's initials happen to be the same as their (completely unrelated) company name by now my roommate and i were far too deep into this conspiracy to stop, and because we still needed a fucking plumber, i began tracking down both cheryl and The Plumber. the footprints individuals inevitably leave on the world wide web made it somewhat easy, especially since court records are generally public. yes, this is where the court records begin.

the first thing i found was a police report that included insurance information. as it turned out, cheryl and The Plumber were involved in a motor accident. The Plumber hit cheryl with his car while she was riding her motorcycle on a very busy freeway, and she received several major injuries. one included a broken arm that kept her from working as a contractor. so far, the story lined up chronologically- this report was filed about a year before her review, and a number of years after the last review of The Plumber (perhaps when the real company began to notice the mistaken identity?).

even though the responding police officer thought that the insurance remediation was enough to settle this, and no further charges needed to be brought forward, cheryl pushed ahead. she began working with an attorney to bring a case against The Plumber, saying he hit her on purpose, and she deserved more money than his insurance company was willing to pay. initial court proceedings show that the courts agreed with the officer, and her case was tossed out. soon after, new court documents appeared, under a new attorney's name. it seems she switched attorneys in order to have her case heard at trial. once again, it was thrown out. third time's the charm, and she filed one more time with a third attorney. she was, confusingly, successful. i think the civil court here simply wanted to resolve her bullshit so they could deal with more important things, like losing my name change paperwork for a month.

throughout this whole thing, The Plumber was unrepresented. this isn't the sort of situation that would involve the public defender, so he's attorney-less. this was clear in the way he wrote his own documents and responses. somewhere around here, things started to go south for The Plumber. i wonder if an attorney could have saved him from cheryl's wrath.

i went through about eight months of court documents learning shit about this case, but long story short: cheryl won, and the amount of money The Plumber now owed was far more than he could pay on his Plumber's Salary. he ended up declaring bankruptcy, and cheryl didn't receive any money as a result. she was furious.

as of the last time i looked, The Plumber is being sued by a major bank for debt collection related civil charges.

cheryl did eventually go back to her contracting job, as i saw on her (honestly neat and effective) website. she's done several large, successful projects since bankrupting The Plumber, and has left more ridiculously mean google reviews, including more personal attacks. it seems she finds google reviews a forum for rebuking the scum of the world, like an ice cream shop that didn't have lactose free milkshakes.

by the end of it all (about four hours later) i've found more of the personal history of these two people than i could have imagined possible, and was still plumberless.

the next day, my roommate called the plumbing company that is not at all affiliated with The Plumber; the poor company that must bear the burden of cheryl's review, tarnishing their google business page indefinitely as companies cannot remove google reviews. not The Plumber plumbing fixed our shower for a decent, but painful fee. we asked them to bill our landlord since they agreed we were not fully responsible for the problem. they said they had no idea who he is. we accepted defeat and paid them.

i haven't checked on The Plumber's court status in awhile, and as i type the court filing website isn't working, so i cannot share any resolution, despite the dissatisfaction you must feel.

with that, this story has concluded. i'm going to go fix my goddamned bathroom sink now.

[pettyprocrastination]

OH you don’t have to feel obligated to write if you’ve got things to do ^^’ (I won’t say NO but just that I wasn’t trying to get sum’n out of it on my end you feel?: I did see a recent reminder for divorced Frankie though - any thoughts/thots you’d care to spare?)

IM SO SORRY ITS TAKEN ME SO LONG TO GET BACK TO YOU ON THIS BUT I HAVE SOME INCREDIBLY SPECIFIC FRANKIE THOUGHTS (that will be turned into a fic eventually i promise im writing it i SWEAR)

he is in his heart and soul, a project dad/husband. this means that this man? always fixing some shit or starting a new project around the house. You cannot stop him.

you guys get a fixer upper house when you first get married. It's below your pay with some issues here and there, but frankie worked contracting jobs with his dad since highschool and took wood shop every year so he insists he can fix it.

you'll come home to power tools scattered on the dinner table and paint covering his pants because "why would I pay somebody twice the amount it's worth when I can just do it myself?"

if you go to the thrift store with this man and point something out saying "we could fix that up, don't you think." please be prepared to come home and find him working on it in the backyard.

he's covered in saw dust and has the imprint line of his goggles around his face but he's grinning and pulling you into his arms.

"jesus christ francisco" "what? You said that dresser would look nice in our room"! "but i didn't think you were going to actually get it!"

your clothes getting covered in sawdust and wood-stain as he kisses you and claims its "workman's comp"

francisco cursing up a storm while reading the instructions on a crib your mother bought from ikea because "these instructions are like the fucking davinci code" and tossing them aside before saying fuck it and making his own.

a beautifully crafted bassinet now sits in the nursery of baby Isabella Morales :')

After the divorce, this doesn't change.

There's a moment where something breaks and you turn to tell Francisco before realizing he isn't there.

You wait until after you drop elizabeth off at school to cry.

thirty minutes later youre at home when the somebody knocks at the door.

there's a tension, sure. you open the door to see your ex-husband standing there, toolbox in hand and mouth open like he wanted to say something but it dies in your throat at the sight of your red eyes and trembling lip. 

“frankie?” 

“Isabella.” he answers. “she uh, she called me.” 

part of you wanted to be mad. That elizabeth told her father that you needed help, that you were struggling. Another part wanted to be mad that she was using her phone at school which was a whole other conversation to be had

but you simply nodded and stepped to the side, savoring the way his hand grazed yours as he walked inside. 

he doesn’t mention that you haven’t taken the photos down of all three of you together, he simply opens the cupboard under the sink and gets to work. 

its the closest thing to domesticity he’s had since the divorce. the pair of you subconsciously slipping back into the little idiosyncrasies from years ago. 

you put a pot of coffee on as he grumbles and grunts under the sink, poorly disguising a laugh as a cough when he goes to sit up and smacks his head on the pipe. 

shuffling from underneath with a now red mark on his forehead as he points a scolding finger in your direction. “you are horrible.” but you hand him a warm cup of coffee and he forgives instantly. 

you sit in silence, shoulder to shoulder on the kitchen floor. 

the job is done. he could leave, go back home with a goodbye and ‘I’ll pick Isa up this friday.” before going back to his small apartment that would feel even smaller after having a taste of what home used to be with you. 

But he doesn’t. he sits in silence, savoring the way you foot sways back and forth on the tile floor until you finally speak. 

“I’m proud of you. You know that?” Your voice is tiny and frail and you tilt your head to look at him. 

My god he could just cry. 

“I’m really proud of you, Frankie. Me and Isabella both are. You know that, right?” 

Did you have any idea? what you were doing to him? 

the love of his life, the mother of his daughter and the reason he was still on this earth, staring at him with such emotion and love in your eyes he felt like a voyeur just for looking at you. 

He looks away, down at the chipped cup in his hands, one you got on a roadtrip when Isabella was only 2. 

Francisco doesn’t trust his voice to not fail him. So he only nods. 

You look up at the clock and curse. 

“what? what’s wrong?” 

you shoot up, feet sliding on the floor as you scurry forward. “Isa! I was supposed to pick her up from school ten minutes ago!” 

you grab your keys in a mad dash, barely sparing a glance over your shoulder to the man you married. 

“You wanna come with?” 

He stares at you, slack jawed and silent. 

“You would let me-” 

“of course. We can..get lunch. I think it’d be good for her, yeah?” 

Isabella doesn’t say anything when you pick her up from school. 

She was ready to snip that you were late, and its embarrassing to be picked up late, but then she noticed frankie sitting in the front seat and smiling at her. 

“Good day at school mija?” 

she doesn’t ask if this means you’re getting back together, or why you’re both picking her up or why his hand rests on the console, occasionally grazing your arm as you drive. 

“It was okay. Can we get Burger King? I’m hungry.” 

she just enjoys it. The little look she sees you give her father as she inSIST on ordering a strawberry milkshake despite the fact she never finishes them, and the way he holds out his hand behind the seat for her to give him fries and the way you laugh when he holds one up to your mouth at a stop light. 

she should clog the garbage disposal more often. 

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part Two)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Butterflies getting caught in throats with no words to help explain. Time standing still with a heart breaking. Determination and a willingness to see it through float away in sleep.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw injury (nothing major, just a wrist injury)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 6644

Shoutout to @damianodavide​, who was a superb help on this chapter and the real life nurse behind this one ;) 😘

***

Damiano’s head was spinning. As soon as he closed his eyes, Y/n’s face appeared in front of him, eyes hooded, lips plumps from just having kissed him, and an expression that promised a need for more. It left him bothered in a way that he knew would not let him sleep until he took care of it. Trying to pretend it was her feminine hand instead of his own rather undignified touch, he reached into the waistband of his underwear immediately letting out a hiss at the contact. 

He was desperate for her, but if he couldn’t have her, his imagination would have to do. Pictures flashed through his mind as he moved his hand. Her on her knees, looking up at him through long lashes. He had already gotten a taste of the way she reacted when he complimented her, watching her eyes go wide as he called her a good girl. Her being good for him. Her on her back, ready to be devoured by him in any way he pleased. Feeling his hands go into her hair pulling her face up to look at him. Her bent over whatever furniture he could find, willing to let him have his way with her. Deeply, madly, irrefutably, he wanted it all. She was truly making him lose his mind. Her body and the way she moved were infatuating. Her laugh when someone did something dumb. The look in her eyes when she teased him back. He could still feel the kiss she left on his lips. He never wanted that feeling to end. Brava ragazza mia.

He came with an embarrassingly loud groan, unable to hold back or keep quiet. For a moment, in the silence, he wondered if anyone had heard. He was well aware that his room was surrounded by those of bandmates and crew, but he couldn’t remember who it was exactly anyway, and it didn’t bother him for long, his hazy mind drifting around once again. 

***

“Where is your mind at?” Y/n looked up as Victoria pulled her out of her thoughts unexpectedly. Y/n had stopped in Victoria's room after breakfast, trying to keep tabs on what everyone’s plans were on their day off. She had meant to get some work done as Victoria was busying herself getting ready, but it had ended up with her staring into the distance, laptop almost forgotten on her lap.

“Oh, sorry. I’m here, what were you saying?” 

“I asked where your mind is at.” Victoria fell forward laying on the bed. Y/n knew that the blonde was starting to learn to read her like a book and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

“Yeah, um, listen. What would you say to someone that may have absolutely decimated her career, by maybe accidentally kissing her boss while they were all high?” She didn’t dare look at the bassist, bracing herself for whatever negative reaction would potentially come from this.

Victoria sat up in surprise, eyes wide and the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m going to need a lot more information than that.” Without giving in to Y/n’s slight protest, she removed the laptop from the assistant’s legs, closing it shut and putting it away. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, there wasn’t much to it really. We sat on the couch, you know that. And I said something stupid about how his eyes looked like chocolates, or maybe gemstones? I don’t quite remember. Anyway, then he pulled my hair out of the hair-tie. I went to kiss his cheek, but he turned his face. Fuck, it was bad. Not the kiss! He is very good at that! But I shouldn’t have done that. And then he just went ‘it's cool, it happens’. What does that even mean?!” She was talking much too quickly, getting it all out before the rational part of her brain would make her shut up. Make her remember she was talking to someone she’d only just started getting to know a week ago, who she was working for. “Then Thomas crashed and you know how that ended. Now I might be avoiding him. Just a bit.” She looked at Vic with a slight panic in her eyes, unsure if she had said too much.

Victoria, on the other hand, seemed delighted to no end, if a little shocked. “Wait, as if you kissed with all of us there and no one noticed!” She exclaimed, briefly pausing, contemplating, but shaking it off to get back to the conversation. “So… Good kiss, huh? Did you enjoy it then? Wanna do it again?” Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Victoria! That is not what I am worried about here! I could lose my job. I- I could never show my face out there again if people found out. And I really enjoy this job, you know!” Her face scrunched a little bit, calming down with a sigh. “...But also, yes, he was a gentleman, and if he wanted to … kiss me again, I probably wouldn’t say no. But I also wouldn’t say yes. I work for you. This is not the time to be thinking about how much I enjoyed kissing Damiano!”

Her eyes went wide as her voice dropped to a whisper, looking down at her hands. “Ah fuck, I said that out loud.” 

“Okay, let’s look at it from a rational standpoint then.” Victoria turned slightly more serious at seeing her panic. “There is no way you’ll be losing your job over this. Maybe I wouldn’t advise hopping into bed with the whole band and crew, but we always got a tight-knit relationship with people we work with anyway, you know that. None of us would rat you out to management or anything. Plus, if you liked and Damiano liked it… wouldn’t it be a shame to worry about anything else instead of going for it?”

“I don’t know if he liked it. I was busy trying not to pass out, to be honest. I avoided him this morning by going straight to your room. I actually kind of avoided everyone, I’m scared the words of what happened will just come out to anyone who asks… Kind of like they just did with you.” She let out another deep sigh, switching between looking at her nails, picking at them, and out the window. “If he ...you know ... Then maybe. I honestly don’t even know what I would do with that information. On the off chance that he did like it though. And wanted to go for it then I’d consider it.” She tried to remain as put together as possible and, well aware that she was failing miserably. 

“Well, in that case, we have to find out what Damiano wants!” Victoria’s enthusiasm was back with a vengeance. “You should talk to him! Or should I talk to him? Maybe I should lock you in a room like those romcoms and threaten to not let you out again until you kiss.”

“Or you don’t do that because that is entrapment. I think I would be cool with you talking to him. But I still have to do my job. That comes first. Because as far as I am concerned,” Y/n got up and grabbed her laptop again, “it is business as usual. And last night was a fluke. Not to crush your rom-com dreams, love, but if I spoke to him I’d put my foot in my mouth faster than you can play bass.”

The smirk on Vic’s face didn’t promise anything good. “We’ll see about that, we’ll see,” she ominously muttered, before jumping up from the bed. “Now stop trying to pretend you got work to do, we’re going vintage clothes shopping.”

*** 

The thrift store turned out to be a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, just off a side street - perfect for shopping in peace without getting much attention at all. Y/n hadn’t been all that keen on keeping the band company for this little adventure, but Victoria had insisted, claiming she needed a female perspective in case the boys were being stupid again. It had only taken a serious case of the puppy dog eyes to win her over, and Victoria found herself making a mental note to remember it.

The store was stuffed full of clothes, a kind of chaos that seemed to have an order that only the owner really understood. But it looked like heaven, and within seconds everyone had vanished into some corner or other, dying to find their newest favourite piece. For a moment, Victoria contemplated who she wanted to follow first, feeling the need to talk to at least two different people but also never wanting to miss out on a chance to go crazy with Thomas. Ended up deciding on Damiano. It seemed the more pressing issue. She hadn’t failed to notice how he would try to pretend that everything was normal, yet continuously evading Y/n’s eyes. She had kept her distance all the same. This wasn’t acceptable. She had to do something, Victoria decided.

She found the singer shuffling through some blouses, although much more half-heartedly than he tended to be when it came to vintage clothes. Looking out from the racks Victoria saw Y/n doing the same. She briefly considered how to go on about this - admit that Y/n had told her what had happened? Pretend she had actually seen the kiss last night? - but figured that Damiano would start talking on his own accord sooner or later. Especially if this was affecting him the way it was Y/n, and she was almost hoping it was.

“Okay, spill, what’s up with you today?”

Damiano shrugged, pulling a shirt out from the rack, and holding it against his body, waiting for Victoria's opinion. She raised a brow and put it back wordlessly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he responded rather vaguely.

“Damia, you’ve barely spoken at all today. Normally you can’t shut up. And you know, I’d be thankful for some peace and quiet from you, but you’re actually worrying me. So what’s going on with you?” 

Damiano had a panicked look on his face as he scanned over the racks of clothes, his eyes flickering back and forth, obviously noticing Y/n shuffling through some things and slowly getting closer. Taking Vic by surprise, he dragged her into the dressing rooms. 

“Okay, that’s…. Weirdly intimate, but go on,” Vic mumbled to herself as he closed the curtain behind them, still nervously looking around the small space.

“Rather talk to you in here, than her hear me out there. I may have fucked up, royally.” He crossed his arms over his chest and Victoria was sure he would be burning a hole into the wall with his vision if he possessed that power. He was avoiding looking at her and she knew it.

“Explain,” she simply demanded, sitting down on the tiny stool in the corner and looking up at Damiano. She wanted to hear it from him, hear what had happened in his version of the story, hear what was bothering him so much.

“So we were at that bar, right? Y/n was sitting next to me. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you were there. Anyway. We were talking. I don’t know if it was the smoking or whatever else, but I looked at her and - I don’t know why I did this but I did. I pulled her hair out of her hair tie.” He leaned on the wall, his head hitting the brick behind him. He groaned but Vic assumed it didn’t have anything to do with the pain. “And… and she was so beautiful. Her hair just all around her. So soft. And at that moment, she was laughing and it sounded heavenly. And I went to look at her again and suddenly my lips were on hers…” His voice softened at the end, losing his train of thought and drifting. She had never quite seen him like this. “Then she was freaking out, and I told her some fucking stupid line like ‘it happens’. I just wanted her to calm down but… Now she must think I’d just...” He groaned, slumping a little and finally looking over at Vic. “Then she ran off to help Thomas.” 

“So, what you’re saying then is that you did enjoy it? Potentially wanna do it again?” She felt transported back to the conversation she’d had with Y/n just hours earlier, posing almost the exact same question. She had never been this involved with any of her friends’ relationships to this extent, but something told her that her help was desperately needed in this case.

He raised a brow at her. “Did you not hear the part where after we kissed she then proceeded to freak out? I doubt that she even wants to see my face right now.” A heavy sigh left him and Victoria found herself laying a hand on his arm. “And of course I want to kiss her again, Vic. I close my eyes and she is there. Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!” 

*** 

Y/n stood in the shoe aisle holding a pair of heels in her hand, contemplating for a second, before putting them on. Turning towards Ethan, who was walking towards her now, she realised it had eliminated all height differences between them. Definitely too high, she thought to herself. Holding onto his shoulders, she clumsily took them back off.

“Hey Ethan, find anything good?” The smile on her face felt forced but she was praying he wouldn’t see it.

He proudly holds up a black, studded belt with an intricate design on it, as well as a pink suede jacket. “How about you? I think I saw some nice trousers over there that might suit you. Wanna check it out?”

Y/n scoffed. She didn’t want to let her mood out on Ethan, trying her hardest to stay diplomatic. “Love the idea, but I doubt any of the clothes in here would go over my thigh. They’d fit you guys just great though. The jacket looks good, by the way.” She tried to distract herself from - well, everything - by putting the shoes away, mindlessly letting her fingers wander over the other pairs standing there.

Ethan looked at her in contemplation for a moment, but seemed to decide against following his train of thought. “At least try on some more shoes. Here, what about these?” He excitedly grabbed a pair of high-heeled boots, very much in the style she could see any of them wearing on stage - much less the one she usually went for when working.

A little intimidated, she took the shoes, if only to humour him. Ethan was nothing but a sweetheart, this was the least she could do. She put them on only with some slight struggle. She once again reached his height, almost amused by the feeling of seeing eye-to-eye with him, but the shoes felt strange. Very far removed from the usual flats, sneakers, boots, or whatever other pair that would allow her to keep running around all day without regretting it in the evening.

“Do I look silly?” 

“You look gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” His voice had the most earnest tone to it and it was only supported by the way he studied her, looking her up and down. “Maybe walk a few steps to see if you can get used to it.”

She laughed as she proceeded to strut and partially dance some steps down the aisle to the song playing in the store. “I haven’t worn heels in so long, still got it though!”.” Her small smile grew into a grin, rather proud of herself for still being able to keep up. Going to the mirror near Ethan she looked at the shoes, then at herself in the shoes, then back at Ethan. Still, the insecurity took over for a moment. Her voice seemed small when she asked, “You think so?” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” he replied, putting a hand over his heart for emphasis. “Want to go and see what the others think? I saw Thomas over there, and Vic and Dami disappeared into that corner a while ago.”

“Right, good idea.” She walked over to the dressing room looking for Damiano and Victoria, figuring they had gone to try on some things. Well, she was mainly looking for Victoria, still uncomfortable at the thought of facing the singer. She was in the middle of calling out for them when Damiano’s voice seeped through the curtain instead. She didn’t mean to listen, only to wait for him to stop so she could interrupt, but the second she realised what he was saying she wished she had never come over.

“Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

She stepped back. Frozen in place. Her heart was beating out of her chest, hurting, aching, breaking just that little bit. Processing what he had said seemed to happen not at all and then suddenly all at once. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Anything but this suffocation. She needed to leave.

“I need some air.”

The words came out of her mouth much louder than anticipated, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that people were looking at her now. She didn’t care that was still wearing a pair of shoes that she had definitely not paid for yet. She just needed out, out, out, and away from all this. From him.

She didn’t realise she was walking on cobblestone until she wasn’t anymore, her ankle giving way, arms desperately trying to keep her from falling as she stumbled.

***

Damiano and Victoria stopped in their tracks as they heard someone approach from outside of the dressing room. Both heads turned towards the sound, when Y/n’s voice came through, telling maybe no one in particular that she needed some air. Her voice sounded strange. Damiano was convinced he had never heard that particular tone in it. As he threw back the curtain, he saw her stumble outside, clearly hectic, and he could feel a surge of panic run through him. Something wasn't right here. He forgot all about the conversation he was having, all about Victoria, and made his way outside. Not quite running, but the worry had him out of the door quickly. His heart sank when he saw her, lying on the floor just outside of the shop, holding her arm awkwardly, some scratches already beginning to bleed a little. As she looked up at him, he could see tears pricking at her eyes.

"Fuck, are you okay? What happened? I just saw-" The look on her face - or rather, the way she turned away from him - shut him up instantly. This wasn't the time to bombard her with questions. It didn't matter anyway. Instead of bothering her further, he quickly knelt down beside her, helping her sit up in return. He was acutely aware of the way she pulled away the second he touched her skin. Like she had been burned. ´

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry to ruin the shopping trip, you can go back in if you want to," she mumbled, trying to wipe some tears away but instead spreading some dirt and drying blood onto her cheek instead. Damiano wanted to touch her, clean her up, dry her tears, but the way she had pulled away a minute ago made him not want to try. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her more. He watched as she pulled out her wallet, handing it to him. "Go pay for the shoes please. And stop looking at me like that, I said I’m fine."

Yet, as soon as she moved, she winced in pain, taking a deep breath before getting herself up to a standing position. He found himself holding her arm in support, but she only accepted it for as long as necessary. As he let go, she let out a small cry of pain, obviously holding her hurt wrist the wrong way.

“You’re obviously not fine,” Damiano sighed. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, but she was already in tears, turning away, and it simply didn’t seem like a sensible option. He looked around at the others as they gathered around Y/n. Only Thomas was missing, probably still blissfully unaware inside the shop and browsing for clothes. He tossed the wallet to Ethan. “Would you mind paying for her shoes real quick?” Ethan nodded, walking back into the store. Y/n was still standing between them, holding her arm close to her body in a protective gesture. Almost a similar expression to the one she had had on her face on the plane all those days ago. He wondered if something was scaring her the way the turbulence did back then. 

“I am and will be fine, Damiano.” Her voice was stern. “I cry at a lot of things, this is no different. I wrap it up, put ice on it for a while and I’m golden.” 

He watched as Victoria put a tentative hand on Y/n’s shoulder. She didn’t pull away from her touch, he noticed. “Y/n, that really doesn’t look like nothing. Look, it’s starting to swell up already.” 

"What do you want me to do then?" She almost sounded resigned now as she looked back and forth between Damiano and Victoria. "We are in Amsterdam. I don't exactly have a GP on speed dial here. Now, where is Ethan with my wallet?"

She started walking towards the door of the shop, but Damiano defiantly held out his arm to stop her. "We are taking you to A&E."

Her face seemed to drain of all colour, and this time it was not because of the pain. "You are not taking me to a hospital."

Damiano looked at her, determination in his eyes, trying to make her understand that this was non-negotiable. Just for now,  he would forget about the way she was brushing him off, the way she was evading his touch, the way she did not even want to look at him. Because right now she needed him and he would be there for her, if she wanted him to be or not.

"Yes, I am. Final decision. You would do the same for us if we got hurt. But we're responsible for you too, you're part of our crew, and right now, being responsible means getting this checked out. Besides, you're not getting your wallet back until you agree."

As soon as Ethan stepped outside again, this time with a slightly confused-looking Thomas in tow, Damiano snatched the wallet from his hands only to put it in his own jeans pocket. She was mad, obviously turning whatever was bothering her into anger, but Damiano was having none of it and he hoped the look in his eyes told her so.

"Fine! Take me to the hospital. But know that I am not happy about this."

"I don't need you to be. I just need you to come with me."

***

A quick refresher of her rudimentary Dutch verified that she was indeed looking for "spoedeisende hulp", another search on the internet confirmed that there was a hospital nearby, and before she knew it, she had been whisked into a taxi with Damiano. The others had decided to make their way back to the hotel, no point in clogging up the waiting room. Damiano promised to call with any news immediately.

Y/n wouldn't tell him, certainly not right then and there but she was happy that Damiano seemed to take the lead for once. She wouldn't have had any problems had any of the others needed medical help - but having people fuss about her? Making her the center of attention in a way she did not intend to be and having to accept help from others?... It was a completely different story. Still she appreciated the way he handled the situation, making sure she got registered with the administration straight away, listening attentively for further instructions, and leading her into the waiting area. She was also glad that it seemed to be quiet, not only because it would result in less of a wait, but also because the bustling would have made her all the more nervous.

This was out of her comfort zone. She had managed to avoid hospitals for the majority of her life, and yet here she was, because she panicked and couldn't handle her shoes. Looking down at them, she wanted to curse them. Curse the fact that they made her walk over to Damiano and Victoria in the first place, curse the fact that she had heard Damiano speak about her that way, curse the fact that they carried her out the door but not much further. She didn't even know where her actual shoes were. Hopefully, Ethan had kept his head and collected them on the way out after paying.

A few seats down, someone coughed loudly, reminding her exactly of where she was. It wasn't the worst hospital she had ever been in, that much was true, but she would rather not see one from the inside at all. She was dying for some comfort, some soothing words, a gentle touch, but as soon as Damiano made any attempt at reaching out to her she pulled back. His words were still heavily playing on her mind, the swelling of her wrist and the heat that seemed to seep from it a painful reminder. There was no way she was going to let herself fall, be reassured and consoled by him when he was so obviously sick of her presence. She wouldn't do that to either of them. Victoria with all her good intentions be damned. At least right now. 

“Why are they not calling you in, it doesn’t even look like they’re doing anything,” Damiano grumbled next to her, eyes on the nurse’s station where a few of them were sitting. A few eyes were on them, something that looked like an excited discussion.

“Stop it, I’m sure they’re busy at work. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean they aren’t”, she bit back, slightly harsher than intended. He shot her a look, eyebrows raised, but she turned away, not looking to have a deeper conversation.

It left Damiano sitting in silence. Leaving both of them in the same situation, again. Y/n and him alone. Well, alone enough. Alone enough to not have anyone distract her from the uncomfortable feeling that settled over them. No Thomas being silly, no Victoria making a dumb comment, no calming presence of Ethan. Through this whole process, Y/n had basically crawled back into herself. She wished she could disappear.

She didn't know how much time had passed when they were finally called, too preoccupied with her own thoughts and the pain in her wrist. The nurse that beckoned them over had the warmest smile on her face, albeit tired eyes and it surprised Y/n how much comfort she found in the soft expression of the woman. White slacks, rolled up sleeves, pockets so full it looked like they were bursting at the seams, dark hair up in a bun. She found herself looking over at Damiano, wondering if he was aware of how gorgeous this woman was, how kind and calming her aura was, but his eyes were trained solely on her. She didn't allow herself to get lost in his gaze, quickly dropping hers and following the nurse into an examination room.

“Hi, I’m Ana, I’m going to be your nurse for today. You only speak English, am I correct?” She asked, gesturing for both of them to sit down, Y/n on the examination table and Damiano on a chair next to it. There was a slight twinge of an accent in her speech, but it was clear that she was fluent, which was a relief. Y/n didn’t even want to think about trying to get this done with the few words she knew in Dutch. She nodded, gratefully. “We’re going to go over what happened, and then I’ll do a physical examination, and the doctor will see you after as well.”

Y/n watched as the nurse fumbled with the computer, seemingly already typing things before Y/n had even said anything. “So, what exactly happened?”

“I, uh, tried on some heels and tripped on the cobblestone outside,” Y/n explained, taking a moment to glare at the offending shoes still on her feet. “Fell forwards, tried to soften the blow with my hands and now my wrist looks like this.” She held up the offending arm, gathering that the sight would speak for itself. The dried blood of the little scrapes on the palms of her hand did its best to make it look more dramatic than it felt.

“Oh, yeah that looks quite painful,” the nurse winced. “I see you’ve scraped your knee as well.”

Y/n looked down, slightly confused, only to realise her jeans had torn, revealing a beat-up knee underneath. Crap, she hadn’t even noticed, too occupied with… well, everything else. This felt like it was getting worse by the second, she never wanted to get back to a hotel room this badly. She felt like crying, but letting Damiano see her composure waver was the last thing she would allow.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, moving her legs as if it gave her a chance of hiding her bruises.

“It’s not nothing, Y/n,” Damiano sighed next to her, before turning towards the nurse. “I think it’s more serious than she’s letting on.” In the same determined tone from before. 

The nurse looked back and forth between the two of them. “It’s probably the shock of it.”

Oh yeah, the shock. Mainly that of finding out that Damiano didn’t want her around, apparently.

The nurse asked a few more questions, time of the accident, previous medical history, medication she was taking regularly, but they barely reached her. She found herself answering curtly, with Damiano filling in where he could. She wouldn’t tell him she was thankful for it. Even though the idea of him taking care of her made her emotional. 

“Right, let’s get that wrist looked at then.” Y/n had feared it would be painful but as soon as the nurse started handling her? She knew it was her job to feel the joints, test her range of motion, move her arm. But unwelcome tears emerged in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to push Damiano’s hand away, as she almost reveled in the comforting touch on her back. The small talk didn’t even begin to make for a distraction. Yet, something was nagging at the back of Y/n’s head as she watched the nurse interact with Damiano. There was a familiarity in her eyes… Did she know who he was? Surely not.

“This will need an X-Ray to make sure it’s not broken,” the nurse concluded, finally letting go of her wrist. Damiano whispered a quiet ‘You okay?’ over to her, but she couldn’t do anything but nod. “I will bandage the scrapes a bit while we wait for a doctor. So, what brings you to Amsterdam today?”

“Work,” Y/n answered, trying to keep some degree of privacy, but Damiano didn’t seem to mind butting in immediately.

“I’m in a band, we’re on tour. She’s our assistant and overall angel.” She wanted to shoot him a look, both at the unnecessary honesty and the over-the-top way he was describing her, but a touch to her banged-up knee distracted her.

A doctor popped into the room quickly verified everything the nurse had told him And before she knew it she was being led down a hallway to get an X-Ray. Damiano stayed behind in the room.

“Cute couple, the two of you,” the nurse piped up next to her.

“Um, yeah, no. Not a couple. Just a working relationship.”

“You sure about that?”

Y/n almost wanted to stop dead in her tracks, ask the nurse what on earth had given her that idea, but she also knew she was here to get examined and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy the person responsible.

“Very. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s made that crystal clear.”

“Well, he certainly doesn’t look like you in a way that suggests he doesn’t like you. If anything, I would have guessed he was head-over-heels for you.”

Y/n was stumped for a reply. Was this woman making fun of her? She didn’t look like someone who would. So why would she say these things? With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Y/n decided she would have to talk to Damiano at some point. Have him either stand by his statement and back off, or explain what the hell he was doing. Because she was starting to lack comprehension about any of it.

She was glad the rest of the appointment seemed to fly by in a hurry, or maybe Y/n’s brain had simply gone into power-saving mode, not really taking it what as happening around her anymore. Her exhaustion was tangible. The X-Ray was done quickly enough, someone sent her back to the  examination room, and before she knew it, the doctor had announced that it was, in fact, not broken. A quick wrap around her wrist, some instructions on how to care for it (that Damiano seemed to listen to more closely than she did), and she was almost out the door. She was sure she would have fallen asleep on the examination table.  It was only the nurse quickly saying her goodbye and adding another comment that almost threw her off balance again.

“Bye, guys. And by the way, nice show yesterday. I promise I wasn’t the one who threw the bra.”

***

It was dark out by the time Y/n and Damiano made it back to the hotel. He had made sure to text the others, telling them to go for dinner without them, they’d be fine, and he figured she would need some rest. The hotel restaurant was quiet enough and he motioned towards it, but Y/n shook her head.

“I’ve got a few snacks in my room, but honestly, I’m not hungry at all. I just want to go to bed.”

Yet, tired as she was, it only took one pointed look for her to shut him up, so he simply nodded and led her towards the elevators.

“At least let me bring you to your room and see if you need any more help. And I can give you your wallet back.”

He could tell in the way she stiffened next to him, the way she barely reacted to his words, that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but he wouldn’t let her get away with it. He was desperate to find out what was bothering her and why she was so distant, but he couldn’t figure it out. Was the kiss still playing on her mind? Was she uncomfortable with him? It was the last thing he wanted. He needed to show her he was willing to be there for her.

Closing the door of her room behind him, a shout rang through the room.

“These fucking things, I hate them!” She was loud and angry while trying to get her shoes off, but her voice was wavering and if he watched her in just the right light he was convinced he was seeing the beginning of tears forming in her eyes.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine,” he tried to soothe, unsure if he was going about it the wrong way, but quickly bending in front of where she was sitting on the bed. She kicked her heels once more in frustration, obviously unable to get them off with her wrist still compromised.

“Don’t shush me when it’s all your fault,” she whispered and he almost stopped dead in his tracks, but he figured she hadn’t meant for him to hear. He stayed quiet, against everything in his heart telling him to find out what she was talking about. Instead, he focused on removing her shoes, gentle touches against her bare skin. Looking up at her, he realised that she was studying him, watching his every move, and he concentrated even harder on being the perfect gentleman. Yet, when he pulled the second shoe off her, he couldn’t help letting his hand rest on her calf a little longer than necessary.

“Come on, let’s get you into some pyjamas,” he decided, getting up and putting some distance between them. Too afraid of getting ahead of himself, of letting his hands wander more than appropriate places, of saying something he shouldn’t. He threw what he gathered to be her sleepwear in her general directions. “If you need any help changing because of your wrist, let me know.”

He hoped his smile was as sincere as he meant it. Either way, she didn’t give him much of a reaction, grabbing the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. A few sharp hisses reached him through the door, but he knew better than to offer his help again.

He wasn’t sure what the acceptable place for him to sit was, but since the room didn’t offer anything but a worn-out armchair and the bed, he decided that choosing the far side of the mattress wasn’t too bad. He didn’t even realise she had left the en-suite until her voice reached him.

“We really need to talk, Damiano.” She sounded resigned and tired and he wished he could wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, but it didn’t seem like the right time. As soon as she reached the side of the bed opposite him, she all but collapsed on it. She sleepily grabbed one of the many unnecessary hotel pillows they placed on the bed and nuzzled her face into it. 

“There will be more than enough time for that tomorrow,” he replied, grabbing the blanket and making sure she was fully covered by it. “It’s been a long day, try to get some rest.” 

She didn’t even manage to argue anymore, eyes already fluttering closed, breathing slowly becoming more steady. She was gorgeous like this. A soft calm overtaking the scene. No wall up that kept everyone else from her inner thoughts. No front that she put up in desperate attempts to remain professional. Just a softness etched into her features that highlighted her natural divine beauty.

He wanted to take her worries away. He hoped that whenever they did get to talk tomorrow, it would yield some clarity. The last thing he wanted was for her to ever feel this way. He had grown so attached to her, so obsessed with the idea of having her around, that he already feared the end of the tour. If she would give him any option to stay in her life, he would take it, whatever way it was.

Damiano barely noticed the way he was slipping down on the mattress, his fingers softly patting her head, eyelids getting heavy. The last thing on his mind was Y/n, sleeping soundly next to him and wishing for nothing but to make her happy.

***

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[novamirmirsblog]

My clothes smell of you

Genre: Fluff

Request: no

Word count: 1311

Warnings: None

LOOSELY BASED ON THIS PROMPT: you’re a seamstress at the place I took my clothes to get fixed and when I got it back it smelled like you so now I’m looking for clothes at the thrift store that have holes in them so that I can go back and see you again

Part 2 here 

A/n: there is absolutely no need to read part two. In fact I encourage you not to do so. It’s sad and why have sad when you can finish with this cute happy ending. Part two was the sadistic part of me coming out 😂

It was no secret that avenging was dangerous work. It was also no secret that Tony Stark sucked at sewing. Perhaps that was a little harsh on Tony. It's not like anyone else in the avengers compound could sew. Natasha remembered one particularly painful memory where Steve had ended up in the hospital because he had sewn his suit to his hand.

Tony had offered to have a bulk of different suits made for each person but after earth's mightiest heroes had seen how all of Clint's suits turned up fluorescent pink, it was a hard pass. Natasha also had another reason for wanting to get her suit's repaired rather than just buying a new one.

The first time she had her suit sent to be repaired it had been after Peter's suit had come back with absolutely no burn marks. It was surprising considering he had jumped into the fireplace after Bucky dared him too. She was shocked that the suit looked almost brand new and when he waved his hand into the flames again, it was completely crazy that the suit hand came away with no burn marks.

Whoever had fixed his suit had also made their own improvements.

Peter had eagerly told Natasha that he often went to 'Y/n's Splendid Sewing' after Aunt May got fed up of repairing his mask one too many times. While Natasha wasn't a fan of the name of the shop, she couldn't deny she was eager to see how you would fix a suit with more holes than Swiss cheese.

Peter had offered to bring her suit with him the next time he went but her suit needed fixing now and turning on the charm a little to skip ahead of any queues was her plan.

~~~~~

Walking into the store, the little bell on the doorframe rang out, letting you know someone had entered. You looked up to see a pretty redhead walk in.

"Hi, I'm hoping you could help me out." Natasha's low voice dripped with flirtatious intentions.

"Sure. What do you need sewing?" You answered back, busing yourself with the computer. You had convinced yourself that if you didn't have to look at her, she would get more ugly when you turned back. You were wrong.

Natasha dumped a black bag on the counter "I was hoping you could fix this up. I kind of need it for tonight."

You glanced at the clock. It read 4:30. Reaching into the bag you pulled out the black catsuit and examined the damage

"I can have it done by 5:45. Name please." You knew you were being short with this beautiful woman but you needed to get started on this suit asap if you wanted to meet the deadline you had set yourself.

"Just put it under Natalia."

~~~~~

The bell rang out again at exactly 5:45 and you didn't even bother looking up before grabbing the catsuit that was on the hanger.

"So you know my name, when do I get to know yours?" Natalia purred out, handing you the money and letting her hand linger for a fraction longer than necessary.

"Y/n" You managed to choke out, you were sure she could feel your heart rate increase because her gaze turned predatory for a fraction of a second before flicking back to the carefully flirty facade she put on.

"Cute. See you soon y/n"

~~~~~

When Natasha made it back to the compound, she took her suit out to inspect it and the waft of you came too. That wasn't fair in her opinion because it was addicting. Your scent wasn't very prominent in your shop because of all the other chemicals you used to clean the clothes but here, with no new smells to distract her, Natasha was hooked. You smelled of comfort.

This was the reason that Natasha was suddenly a saint, taking everyone's suits to be repaired. She wasn't too keen on everyone being able to smell your coziness but this way she got to keep talking to you. You had both fallen into playful flirting and while Natasha thought she could be content with that, she wasn't. She wanted more. She wanted to be the reason you woke up with a smile. She wanted to come home and be able to breathe you in after a long day. It's why she started bringing more and more... personal... items. It was an absolute joy to see your flushed face when she gave you a very revealing bra to fix, claiming that the holes that looked like they had been cut in were, in fact, a product of moth related crimes.

Natasha had, in fact, asked you out on a date several times yet you always thought it was just a friendly meet up. The amount of times the two of you had gone out to eat, or grab coffee, or just chill at the compound were too many to count. After the first three failed attempts at asking you on a proper date, Natasha wondered if you were being wilfully ignorant, that you just didn't want to go on a date with her and this was your way of letting her down. But then she would catch your eyes roaming her body with your lip captured between your teeth and question everything all over again.

~~~~~

Natasha, who was usually so sure of herself, felt like an absolute wreck when she came to collect the clothes that day, along with a bunch of flowers.

The bell on the doorway rang out at 4:45, just as it has done every Wednesday and Friday for the past 3 months. You didn't even bother looking up to greet Natasha, just waving her in to the back so she could dump the clothes that needed repairing.

"Actually Y/n, no clothes today."

You looked up at that. Why was she coming here without clothes? Was there an order you forgot to complete? Was she here to tell you that your last job wasn't good enough? "How come?"

"Well," Natasha took a deep breath in, trying to calm her nerves "I was wondering if you would like to grab some coffee with me? Like a date?" Natasha handed you the flowers from behind her back.

You were shocked. How could someone like Natasha (You had found out during a movie night at the compound that while Natalia was her real name, people here just called her Natasha) like someone like you? Natasha took your silence as a bad thing and started to ramble.

"I know it's weird but ever since that first interaction, I just can't shake you. I am obsessed with everything about you - your hair, your eyes" Natasha let out an exasperated laugh "even your damn smell I can't get out of my head. I understand if you don't want to date me but I can't live with the thought of not knowing whether or not you would say yes..."

While Natasha was ranting away, you and taken the flowers from her and placed them on your workbench. Once she had finished her speech, you placed one hand on her hip and the other on her face

"Of course I would want to go on a date with you. When you first walked into my shop, I couldn't wait for you to come and collect your clothes. When you kept coming back - well, I thought I was the luckiest person alive because even though I thought we could never be anything more than friends, at least I got to watch you and your smile every week."

You leant in, bringing your lips closer to Natasha's, leaving a gap for her to close. When Natasha captured your lips with hers, the softness was unparalleled to anything you had ever experienced. You both broke the kiss reluctantly when you needed to breathe.

"You know that's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me, Y/n"

"Well now, we can't have that Miss Romanoff, people might think you're going soft." you gently nudged her as you both walked out of the shop hand in hand, the bell ringing for one last time before you both made your way into your new relationship.

[ravennm84]

Lyre Festival Justice

Here is the sequel to Lyre Festival Fraud where you get to see exactly what happened to Lila during her long weekend after she went back to Italy. I thought, at first, that I may have gone to far with the salt... But it’s Lila and I really don’t like her character. So, Warm-Fuzzies and enjoy this salty goodness!!

It was a beautiful day in Rome and Lila was enjoying her shopping spree around the city. She and her mother had spent the first few days after moving back to Italy unpacking and getting settled. It was Sunday, and her mother had to go to the embassy to make sure that all of her paperwork had transferred from Paris, which gave Lila the opportunity to spend the money she’d gotten from the idiots from her old class. Really, she couldn’t believe how stupid they all were to have just handed her over €2,000 for a luxury vacation in Venice. She should have gotten at least €3,000 from the class, but that Mari-brat and stick-in-the-mud Adrien had convinced some of them that she was lying. Oh well, €2,000 was better than nothing.

Best part, none of it could be traced back to her. They travelled to Venice on their own, nothing had been written down, her old mobile phone was disconnected and in a landfill somewhere, and she would just tell her mother that she had gotten all her new clothes at a thrift shop she remembered from the last time they’d been living in Rome. And if the idiots got in trouble and tried to say that she was involved, she’d turn on the tears and her mother would side with her like she always did. Seeing a little cafe, she stopped in to get a good cappuccino, it had been too long since she’d had a deceit cup of coffee.

It was mid afternoon by the time she got home. She had made a stop at the thrift store to grab a couple of their shopping bags to hide the real ones inside. It felt wrong to put a Versace skirt in a bargain bag, but one does what one must to keep her life going smoothly. Opening the door to the apartment, she barely caught sight of her mother sitting on the couch before Lila started gushing about how great it was to be back in Italy and all the things she’d missed. 

She prattled on for a couple minutes before noticing that her mother hadn’t said anything. Turning to look at her, Lila flinched when she saw her. Something was seriously wrong, the last time she had seen her mother so angry was when she’d told her that her dad was cheating on her. That hadn’t been true but they had ended up getting divorced anyway, which was to Lila’s benefit since the man had always called her out on her lies.

“Is everything okay, Mama?” She asked cautiously, doing her best to sound and appear small and innocent.

“Sit down.”

Her tone left no room for argument. Lila set down her bags and sat in the chair across from her mother.

“Mama, wha-”

“Be quiet!” She snapped, and Lila shut her mouth. This actually seemed worse than the fight her parents had before they divorced. “I received a very strange email on Friday night, from a former classmate of yours in Paris. It seemed that the majority of your class was under the impression that we were throwing a party for a lot of important politicians, celebrities, and musicians on a private island and you had invited them. I told myself, ‘not my daughter, she would never do something like that’. But the email went on, with a list of the students that were supposedly going on this trip and gave you money for the expenses. Again, I thought ‘Lila would never be so cruel as to steal money from her friends right before we left Paris’. So I told the person who sent me that detailed information, that I would handle it. I still thought it was a joke.”

The teenage girl didn’t even have to listen to the end of this story, she knew that goody-two-shoes Marinette had ratted her out. Lila was fighting every instinct she had to run and lock herself in her room, but if she moved even a little her mother would stop her. She could only sit there and hope that she could come up with some kind of lie to convince her mother that she was being set up.

“Then when I went into the embassy today, my boss pulled me into his office and started grilling me as to why I allowed seven unaccompanied minors entry into the country. I tried to explain that I had no idea what he was talking about, and then he started reading off the names. Do you want to guess why those names sounded so familiar?”

By this point, Lila was practically curling into herself to make herself appear smaller. She had to say something, any lie that would make her mother believe her and only her. Turning on the tears, she buried her face in her hands and spoke between sobs. Fake crying always gave her a few extra seconds to think before she had to speak. “I swear, Mama. I didn’t want to do it. Marinette forced me to take those papers from your office to give to our classmates so they could get into the country without their parents. I never took any money from them, I swear! Marinette was bullying me the entire time we were in Paris, I was scared of what she’d do to me if I didn’t do what she said. You’ve got to believe me!”

“So you’re saying that you didn’t tell your class about some non-existent party on a private island, had no knowledge of who was coming into Italy, where they were going, or anything like that?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed as she brought out her mobile phone.

Her hands were shaking as she kept her face buried in her hands, something about her mother’s tone  and the way she spoke made this feel like a trap. But she couldn’t backtrack now, Marinette was her way out and she had to stick with it. So she nodded as she continued to sob into her hands.

“Then please explain this to me.” Her mother turned the phone towards her and Lila looked up, her face falling in horror when she heard her own voice. It was a video of her telling her class about who was going to be at the party that she and her mom were organizing, how she was going to need to know for sure who all was coming before the weekend, and Marinette had somehow gotten video of Alya and Nino each handing her €300!

It took longer than she would like to admit for the shock to wear off, but she was smart enough to stick to her original story. “It’s fake! Marinette must have made it to get me in trouble. Max probably helped her, he’s really good with computers. It’s all too convenient to be true. I mean, she sends you all this information about which people are going, how much money they gave me, and a story about a party on a private island in Venice, that anyone would be able to see is clearly fake. Can’t you see that I’m being set up?”

Her mother’s eyes grew harder as she stood from her chair, causing Lila to shrink even further into her own. 

“You say that this is all a set up and you had no idea where your classmates were going in Italy, but you just told me the exact city where they were found. You left them waiting on a dock for you to come ferry them to that non-existent private island, and don’t even bother saying that you know which city because of the video I just showed you, because it never names the city they were in.”

Well, crap. She was about to try another tactic, but her mother cut her off before the first syllable left her mouth.

“Young lady, do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?” she yelled, her face beginning to turn a purplish-red and began pacing the room. “You forged my signature on multiple federal documents, endangered the lives of multiple minors, committed theft, and god knows how many other laws you’ve broken. I can’t protect you from this! You will be facing federal charges for what you’ve done!”

Lila felt her stomach drop to her ankles. “But-but that was all in Paris, and I had diplomatic immunity while I was there!”

“It became an international incident when you forged an ambassador’s signature on federal documents that endangered minors! My boss gave me a choice,” her voice grew even harder and colder than before. “Either you answer for what you’ve done and plead guilty, or I lose my job and we both go to trial for what you’ve done.” 

“You’d let me go to jail for one little lie? It’s not like anyone got hurt!” Lila screamed, standing from her chair in a panic. This was much worse than she’d imagined. 

“And what if they had been?” Her mother screamed back. “What if they had been kidnapped and sold into human trafficking? What if one of them had fallen off the dock and drowned in the channel or hit by a boat? I would be held responsible for that because you forged my signature! Do you not care about the people around you at all? What is wrong with you?”

“But nothing happened to them! It’s their own fault for being stupid enough to believe such an obvious lie. And you’re taking their side over mine? How dare you call yourself my mother and claim to love me!” 

“Don’t you dare try to blame me for your bad behavior!” Her mother yelled back as she advanced on her, making her fall back onto the chair. Mme. Rossi looked back at the shopping bags she had knocked over when she had turned, revealing the Versace bag. Tilting her head back, she took multiple deep breaths before looking at her daughter.

“This is what’s going to happen. You are going to return everything you bought today, and you are going to explain to the managers of each store exactly why you are returning everything.” Lila was about to protest, but one look from her mother had her mouth snapping shut. “We will also be clearing out your savings to pay back your classmates for the money you took, their travel expenses, their parents travel expenses, and any money they lost while being away from their jobs to retrieve their children. After that, you will be standing trial for forgery and fraud. If you know what’s good for you, you will go before the judge and apologize profusely for what you’ve done and listen to everything the judge tells you. If you’re lucky you may receive a lenient sentence; but either way, you can expect your next school to be a reformatory school. And if you try to fight me on any of this, I will let a court appointed attorney with no experience handle your case instead of the family lawyer. Have I made myself clear?”

No longer having to fake her tears, Lila nodded to her mother, resigning herself to the fact that her life had been ruined because her mother didn’t love her and Marinette didn’t know how to keep her nose out of where it didn’t belong.

~oOo~

The rest of the day, Lila was forced to return everything that she bought back to the stores and tell the managers how she had stolen the money from her classmates and then abandoned them in a country and city that they weren’t familiar with. The people that overheard her were horrified by what she had done and the managers banned her from ever shopping in those stores again. After all, if she was willing to steal money from her friends, there was little doubt that she would steal from the stores.

After everything was returned, she was taken to the embassy where they recorded her confession on how she lied to everyone, forged her mother’s signature on the documents she stole, and how she scammed over €2,000 from her former classmates. After the confession was taped, she was taken outside of the embassy and handed over to the police to be kept in a juvenile detention center. She screamed at her mother, not believing that she would just hand her over like that, but the woman looked down her nose at her and said, “It’s time for you to face the consequences of your actions, young lady.” 

When she arrived at the police station, she was relieved to see their family lawyer was waiting for her, although he was less than thrilled by what she had done. He explained that even as a minor, she could be serving 2-6 years just for the forgery of the documents, that wasn’t even factoring in the scam or reckless endangerment of seven minors. If she were to be tried as an adult, she could be serving 6 years for each document, facing serious fines and more time for each classmate she endangered.

After hearing that, Lila had to rush to the trash can to throw up. She couldn’t believe that one little lie could get her into so much trouble. But this wasn’t her fault, none of it was. If there was anyone to blame, it was that goody-two-shoes Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all the effort she went through to destroy that girl, she just wouldn’t back down. She would make that girl pay for what she’d done. As soon as the charges were all dropped, she would do everything she could, use every dirty trick in the book to force the nosy girl to end her life and stay out of hers.

But that would have to wait for now. For the time being, she would do what her mother said and play her part. Act like the innocent girl that had gotten caught up in her own fibs while trying to make friends in a new country. She didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt or in trouble, she was just so overwhelmed and she is so sorry for everything that happened. She would need to cry a lot, that was a given, but she could do this. Just fake it until she could get her revenge on the girl that ruined her life.

~oOo~Three Months Later~oOo~

Lila hadn’t meant to lose control in front of the judge. She’d spent months locked away with a bunch of low-class delinquents, talking to different lawyers and quack-doctors before going to court. She had been the picture of innocence and childhood regret the second she walked into the courtroom, she was sure to get off all the charges against her. But she and her lawyer had been blindsided. 

The quack-doctors had called her a narcissist and a sociopath, in need of desperate help. To prove that, all of her lies, everything she had said while in Paris had been brought into evidence against her. They’d exposed her truancy and forgery at her old school, found proof of her purposefully getting Marinette expelled, and faking interviews on the Ladyblog which brought her more lawsuits from a bunch of the celebrities she’d lied about. 

Some of her classmates had come to give testimony on what she had done and said during her time in Paris. The goodie-two-shoes brat had even come to Italy to give testimony against her, though Lila hadn’t been allowed in the courtroom while she was there, as Marinette hadn’t felt safe to be in the same room. Lila’s lawyer had actually agreed, probably so she wouldn’t cause a scene. And she probably would have. She would have stabbed her in the face with a pencil, in front of the entire courtroom, if she had the chance.

But the worst had to do with the school security cameras. After M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier had been fired for neglectful and abusive behavior to their students, which had been brought about by the investigation into Marinette’s expulsion, the Board of Governors went farther back through the recordings to see how long the bullying had been going on. What they found was video evidence of Lila grabbing an akuma out of the air and putting it into her earring, and then willingly working with the known terrorist. 

To make matters even worse, Ladybug and Chat Noir had sent a video as testimony of the times Lila had purposefully interfered with their rescues and had led Chat away from Ladybug to make her more vulnerable to the akuma Oni-chan. Her lawyer tried to get the video stricken from evidence as he couldn’t cross-examine the two heroes, but it was denied.

Her parents had been sitting behind her when they showed those videos. When her mother saw them, it was like she completely shut down. She heard her say that she wanted to leave, and Lila watched as her father helped her mother to her feet and lead her out of the courtroom without looking back. 

The judge had been absolutely disgusted with her, going as far as to call her a monster for willingly aiding a terrorist. Since she had already confessed to multiple counts of forgery, fraud, and reckless endangerment of minors, and would now be adding slander and other charges from her time in Paris, the most notable being terrorism; he declared that she would be tried as an adult and was likely to spend the rest of her life in prison.

She’d completely lost it at that point, screaming at the top of her lungs as she jumped over the table to attack the judge. She didn’t remember smashing the water pitcher against one guard's head, scratching another guard across the face, or getting tasered in the back. When she woke up, she was strapped to a bed by her wrists and ankles, her head felt really foggy, and there were a bunch of nurses and orderlies that were keeping keen eyes on her.

Lila Rossi spent the rest of her life heavily medicated in a maximum security mental health hospital. Most every night, the nurses would hear her plotting some kind of scheme to show everyone what a loser Marinette was, but then she would trail off about how she wanted to hear the song Jagged Stone wrote for her or the album she’d help Clara Nightingale write. When she saw people, she would ramble and lie about being a princess or a secret agent, and that she was only here to keep her safe until they came to get her. Over the years, it was all written off as the insane ramblings of a very disturbed girl that would be remaining at the hospital for the rest of her life.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Updated version of Fazbear Frights Roommate AU?

Oh we got a few new arrivals since the last time! ^^

.......

“Ballora”

The ballerina herself doesn’t actually appear.

You just see her dancing via the cardboard glasses you found at a thrift store.

It only works on human eyes, though Withered Funtime Freddy claims he can hear her music when you wear them around him.

Sometimes she speaks to you, expressing her gratitude that you decided to save her.

She says she recognizes her old friends in some of the other animatronics (like Eleanor and Lonely Freddy) whenever you look at them through the glasses.

For some reason you’ve become a lot better at ballet as you talk with her more and more.

But you decided to stop wearing the glasses and put them away somewhere, only occasionally taking them out at WFF’s request.

Ralpho

(His story kinda confuses me, so I just hc him as a springlock suit pumped full of remnant that lets him breathe/bleed like a human would).

Ralpho is just the same hysterical prankster, running into your room between 5AM-6AM to give you a noisy wakeup call.

You learned he has some..unaddressed anger issues that make him snappy if you ask him to leave.

He and Ella became the insomnia-inducing duo of the house.

The other animatronics are kinda annoyed with him (and by annoyed I mean WFF threatened to chop his arms off).

But eventually he explains the reasons for his behavior: ever since the end of the "Bunny Call" service, he felt heartbroken that he had nobody to wake up anymore.

So when you took him in, he felt like he needed to keep doing his job or else you'll abandon him, too.

Though you reassure him he’s safe with you and can rest here as part of your "family".

Since that talk, Ralpho seemed to have a change of heart, no longer waking you up at ridiculous times (only if you sleep past noon).

Also he'd clash his cymbals if an animatronic annoyed him.

Springtrap’s Revenge

You knew Matt personally and he gave you his copy of the game after realizing he can’t let his anger with it take over his life, so he trusts you with it more.

As he mentioned, you saw the numerous dead clones all around the maze--and the main Springtrap still barely clinging to life.

Even you took sympathy on the murderous rabbit, so you messed with the game files, putting your hacking skills to good use. And miraculously, the errors and clones are gone.

Springtrap seems aware of what you did and actually..thanks you? He’s grateful to be out of the hands of his creator. And you feel bad for him--instead of this grinning angry beast he’s like a terrified son who disappointed his dad.

Once the other animatronics get to know him, Plushtrap Chaser calls him "big bro".

You'd continue to play Springtrap's Revenge as it should've normally been, never getting too mad at the AI when he caught you in the maze.

Of course some huffs and swears may drop here and there...but you'll never shout at him in rage.

[pbandjesse]

I I haven't done a post in a long time where I'm using talk to text but I just finished my entire post and I somehow deleted it and there's no control z on your phone. I'm so sad that I just lost that entire post I haven't done that for a while but as I did it I said to myself now don't delete it. I can't believe that just happened.

I will start from the beginning. I woke up this morning and felt pretty good. But I was honestly still very tired and I knew eating something would help but first we had to get out of the house. I felt cute and James made the bed we got all of my stuff together and left the house by 7:30. We drove about halfway to camp before we stopped for breakfast and I felt a lot better after that. I felt a little stressed because we were getting to camp just before 8:30 and I knew there was a lot that we had to do.

When we got there I had James organizing theme stuff because all the boxes were actually returned for once. And I set up the tables and made sure all of my examples were ready. We were cleaning and getting everything ready. I went down to the office to make copies of the design your own superhero coloring sheets I had sent to Elizabeth. And that took a while because it was like 130 pages. But everything was going great and then it was 9:30 when my first class should come and they didn't. I called the office and it turns out there was no group 10 this week. Because we are down counselors so they just got rid of a group. So I guess I didn't have to rush but whatever. James would keep sorting and I hung out in my hammock alone until they came and joined me. And we just had a nice little morning.

My stomach kind of hurt all day though it's a lot better now but I was just not feeling 100% this morning eating made me feel a little bit better but I was also just tired. At one point I went down to the nurse's office to use the bathroom and I found a little silver ring. I put it in the group chat but no one has claimed it. It looks so familiar but I can't figure out why. I hope whoever it belongs to comes for it.

Most of my groups are excellent today I didn't really have any problems with anybody. Except at one point a little boy stole one of my examples. Normally I wouldn't care But that doesn't belong to him. And he pretended that he made it. I'm not stupid when he asked for the blue pipe cleaners to remake the bird that was on my table I gave him the blue ones and he left with the red one. I wasn't going to yell at him but it really upset me that someone would steal from me. And then try to tell me that oh it just got lost. Well you're the one that lost it because you're the one that took it off the table. And it just really made me feel stupid because I bring so much stuff to share with everyone why would you take something from me. I just want to share and have a good time and say yes but when people take advantage of that it just really hurts my feelings.

So I was a little shaken up over that but overall everyone else was great. One little girl gave everyone henna tattoos including me. She gave me a bunny. And Mora gave me a hair wrap. I've always wanted one that they're so expensive on the boardwalk so I've never done it before. I don't love the texture. But I think it looks really cool and I was able to put a bead on it.

At lunch I gave Emily the sunglasses I got for her and she gave me a big hug and got to match and that was very cool. And I gave Laura the stained glass shamrock that I found for her at the thrift store. She said it was beautiful. I love giving people gifts.

Lunch was a little weird. James helped take everything out and they didn't have a real vegetarian option. Which I don't care about. It was a kind of Mediterranean something something. And so I just had the pita in the orzo and just put some vegetables on it from the salad bar. But honestly it really wasn't enough food. And by the mid afternoon I was very tired and my stomach I felt very empty.

James had made more angel food cakes for me so I had two of those. And felt a lot better afterwards. But me and James decided we would get dinner together off of camp.

We were supposed to go kayaking after our last program but while we had the horse girls there I was helping Aubrey so and I just kind of felt weird. I felt weird about leaving and trying something new and I don't know. I was just in a weird place. So instead me and James went swimming during the last free swim. James was having a great time going off of the diving board and doing belly flops with Manny and the boys from stockade. I did not want to get my hair wet so I was just sitting in the cove. Eventually I went and took a shower and when I came back out James was very upset because they lost their wedding band again. I wasn't that concerned because I knew they lost it in the pool. So I went and told drew the lifeguard and he said that James could look for it once everyone was out. James got some goggles and was able to find it pretty quickly. We now know that James should not wear their ring when they are swimming. I felt bad that they were so upset though.

We came back up to arts and crafts to hang up wet stuff and then we drove to get food. The fancy brick oven pizza place we were going to go to was not open so we went to a less fancy pizza place down by hunt valley. And it was good even if the food came out all the different times and that was strange. I was very very tired though and when we were leaving I dropped my last straw and it shattered and I was so sad. I already ordered a new one but just it without very defeating to see it fall on the ground and just become a million tiny green shards of glass. I really love that straw.

But James brought me back here and we kiss goodbye and they just got home. I had just finished my other post but accidentally deleted it like I said. I forgot how much quicker doing talk to text is but also I feel like the voice that I write in is different than the voice that I speak in. It's not terribly different but I am much more long-winded when I am speaking. So enjoy this slightly longer post.

I hope tomorrow is a very nice day. It's supposed to be hot and it might rain I think. But it will be a nice day still. Have a good night everybody.

[mudskip-muses]

@not-bcring cont. from (X)

Luckily for Kazuichi, the item in question, a goblet that looked to be etched with strange runes and markings, was nothing more than a prop, something the overlord had found at a small thrift store Sonia had insisted on dragging him into one day while the two were on their way to a more...magical shopping bazar. She had been just as excited about that store as she had been to see genuine otherworldly merchandise, so he couldn’t have said no even if he wanted to. The goblet had been a gift from her, but one he treasured despite it being nothing more than mortal metal and paint. 

With a deep, but fond sigh, Gundham’s book snapped shut, the overlord having been watching the mechanic from the corner of his eye, almost knowing that he would disobey. Kazuichi’s curiosity was one of the main reasons anything that could actually harm him were stowed away, or simply placed on a high shelf where he couldn’t reach them. 

Gundham debated if he should simply deter Kazuichi in a normal manner again, the usual chastising remark, or perhaps pull his hand away to keep him from touching things, but knowing that the other man was actually fascinated by his more demonic appendages, Gundham chose another route to discourage his prodding. Who knew, maybe this would help it stick this time. He knew it wouldn’t.

With the faint smell of sulfur now in the air with the change to his person, the halfblood's tail made an appearance the next Kazuichi would blink, it wrapping about the mechanic’s middle to pull him back a few steps without the overlord even having to turn to him. Putting the book he had been flipping through back in it’s place on the bookshelf, Gundham shot Kazuichi a smirk, his arms coming to cross his chest as he released his companion, tail pulling the other in such away it would send him into a single spin before coming to rest behind the halfblood once again. “I ask you don’t touch these things because I do not wish you hurt. I know not what some of them would do to a human such as yourself.” 

Human, not mortal. Gundham had broken out of calling Kazuichi such a thing long ago. Mortal was what he spit at those he saw as lesser than him, but Kazuichi? He was special, he was Gundham’s human. Most demons, or even angels, took a soul when they wished to lay claim to one, but not him. No, Gundham had done the exact opposite, giving Kazuichi a rune etched ring that would keep any other being from possessing him, from taking what was not theirs. And if asked why he had given the other a ring instead of an amulet like he had given Sonia? It was nothing but simple convenience with what he already had for materials...

Something seemed to occur to Gundham then as he looked to Kazuichi with faux displeasure, not actually mad that he was touching his things, just concerned for his wellbeing, his tail springing to attention for a moment before going lax once again, the breeder suddenly turning on his heel to dig through his closet. “If you truly wish to touch something magical in nature, I suggest it be this.” Voice muffled as he sifted through clothes hung up hangers, a mixture of dark and bright as with everything else in his- no, their room, Gundham pulled free a familiar looking jumpsuit from the back, it looking no different from any of the others Kazuichi owned. 

He looked sheepish now as he came to stand before Kazuichi, a flush tinting his cheeks as he handed over the brightly colored garment, tail flicking nervously behind him. “I...hope you do not mind, but I borrowed this to test something I have been studying for some time...” Flipping up the collar on the jumpsuit, there were a series of runes stitched into the fabric by a careful hand, lining around the underside of the collar with a faint glow as the halfblood ran a finger over them before they faded away once more with the absence of touch. “They...are meant to prevent the fabric from igniting, as well as keep anything from cutting through it. As long as those runes remain in tact, so...so will you...” 

With a sudden clearing of his throat, Gundham turned away again, attention back onto the bookshelf with shaky fingers trailing along the spines to give him something to do aside from looking at Kazuichi with ever reddening cheeks as he thought of the implications of gifting such a thing. “I am not sure as to the strength of this magic, as I haven't tested it at length, but with your line of work, I assume we will get results in time...” Then, after a beat, “...Please don’t become overly reckless with this. It is not a invitation for you to cast yourself alight. I...simply wish to prevent your injuries as much I am able...” 

[redpandaramblings]

Laundry Day. Sero x F!reader

Content warning- Mature humor, Mineta mention, sexual situations, heavy petting.

 “Come on!  It would be so much fun!”  Mina was bouncing on her heels, practically vibrating with excited energy as she tried to convince the group to go along with her scheme.

“So let me get this right.” Bakugo sighed.  “You want to do this fucking thrift store scronging thing for Christmas?”

“Yep!”  Mina said.  “Let’s be real, none of us have a lot of money this year, and this will be a way to have a lot of fun on a budget!  It’s simple.  Everyone finds the weirdest or most inappropriate thing they can buy for five bucks or less, and then we have a white elephant party on Christmas Eve!”

“White Elephant?” Kirishima asks, tilting his head.

Kaminari nods, jumping in.  “Yeah man!  Means people take turns picking gifts out of a pile.  Or they have the chance to steal a gift someone else already opened.  Basically, don’t go picking stuff thinking it will go to a specific person.”

“Is this going to be just us?  Or are we inviting everyone?  Because I live in curious fear of whatever Mineta would manage to dig up.”  You asked from where you were lounging.

Mina blanched while Denki cackled in delight.

“Oh god, we have to invite everyone now!  Imagine Midoria’s face!  Imagine Iida’s!”

“It’s settled!  Party at Bakubro’s!” Kiri cheered.

“Oi shitty hair! Don’t fucking invite everyone over to my place!”

“But you make the best curry!  Please?  For your bestest friends in the whole wide world?”

“Fuck no!”

“Pleeeeaaaase?”  Kiri pleaded.

“NO!”

Kirishima looked around the squad, communicating silently as everyone nodded.  As a collective force, you all turned your best puppy eyes at Bakugo.  He squirmed, firmly trying to look away from all of you.  You all started fake whimpering and whining.  You knew you had won when Katsuki’s lips briefly twitched into a smile.

“Alright!  Alright!  Now stop it, you fucking extras!”

“Three cheers for Bakubro!” Sero exclaimed.

The weeks flew by and before you knew it, the party was upon you.  Katsuki had grumbled and bitched the whole time, and yet now was gazing with pride at the absolute spread he had spent the last two days cooking.  Everyone had showed up, had gorged themselves, and were now in the process of opening presents.  There had been a couple weird mugs, a lamp made out of a deer leg, and Iida had had the misfortune of opening the gift Mineta had brought.  Everyone stared in horrified awe at the three foot long, hot pink dildo.

“Are those teeth marks on it?”

“Yep, teeth marks.”

“Mineta, where the hell did you find this thing?”

“I swear I got it at a thrift store!  The price tag is still on the base, look!”

“Yep.  That’s a price tag.”

“I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“I wanna bite it.”

“Y/N!  NO!”

There was a lot of laughter and teasing as the evening continued, gifts continuing to be claimed or stolen at a slow pace.  Just about everyone after Iida had tried to steal ownership of the horror dong as it had been nicknamed.  Denki had just stolen it from you, so you had to pick a new gift.  You pointed toward a box that was rather conspicuously wrapped entirely in tape.

“Okay, someone toss me whatever the hell Sero got.”

The black haired man gave a little fist pump as he snagged the box, walking over to sit next to you as he handed the box over.  He casually pressed against your side and slung an arm around your shoulders.  “Amiga, I’m honored!  You’re going to love it!”

“Yeah, I’m going to love it if I can ever get into it.”  You began the process of slowly unwrapping the absurd amount of tape.  “Seriously, anybody got a knife?”

A chorus of “no”s replied, no one actually bothering to look for one.

You gave a dramatic groan.  “You’re all awful and I hate each and every one of you.”

Hanta gasped and placed a hand over his heart.  “Even me, Querida?”

“Especially you, you office supply elbowed freak.”  You replied, sticking your tongue out at him even as you snuggled more comfortably into his side.

After a couple more minutes of dramatic whining and tape unwrapping, you finally got the box open, only to reveal the gaudiest t-shirt you had ever seen.  It was a nauseating shade of Pepto Bismol pink.  There was glitter.  And oh god, what the thing said.  You started cackling.  You held it up for everyone to see, discovering as you did so that this had to be the largest shirt you had seen in your life.

“Ooo, nice one Hanta, that’s really awful!”

“Someone steal this from me, please!”

“No way, Y/N!  It’s the perfect addition to your wardrobe!”

“Hermosa! I’m wounded you would get rid of my gift right after opening it.”

“Look at this thing!  Fatgum would swim in it!”

You made a show of grumbling, but you stowed the shirt back in its box and enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friends.  When you got home quite late that evening, you shoved the box into the back of your closet and didn’t think about it again until almost a year later.

~~~

Today had been the day from hell.  You muttered curses to yourself as you stomped down the hallway to your apartment.  Work had been harder than usual, the kind of day that made you grateful to make the long commute back home.  So of course today would be the day that the subway would be taken over by a villain who had a sludge quirk.  Asshole had flooded the cars with the thick, foul smelling, viscous ooze that reminded you of things unmentionable.  You and the other passengers had had to scramble to make sure no one ended up in over their head.  Lucky everyone had been saved.  Unluckily you and many others, you had spent the better part of two hours standing shoulder deep in the muck.  It was in your hair.  It had soaked your clothes.  It was in your underwear.  And the icing on the cake was of course it was your friends and neighbors who had rescued you.  Of course your crush had seen you when you looked like you had taken up competitive septic tank diving.  

It took you three tries before your key actually got in the lock.  You shuffled into your apartment and straight for the bathroom.  Grimacing as you peeled your clothing off, you unceremoniously chucked everything into the hamper before stepping into the shower and turning the water as hot as it would go.  You stayed in the shower for over an hour scrubbing and rescrubbing every inch of you.  With great reluctance, you eventually stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel.  You lazily dried yourself off as you walked into the bedroom, intent on putting on pajamas and pretending you didn’t exist for the next several hours.  

You opened your underwear drawer only to be filled with a deep sense of dread.  Empty.  Your pajama drawer? One pair of extreme booty shorts that say “creepy” on the butt.  Your t-shirt drawer?  Empty.  Your closet?  Empty.  Frustrated tears threatened to slip down your cheeks as you realized that the shorts were the only clean item of clothing in your apartment.  You had been meaning to do laundry for a while, but you hadn’t realized that it had gotten this bad.  As much as you hated to, you were going to have to do your laundry tonight.  You put the shorts in and  looked through your closet again, desperate enough to find a sheet to try and fashion into a toga when you spotted a rather bedraggled tape covered box.  You hadn’t thought about your ridiculous white elephant gift in several months, but now?  Well, it technically was a shirt.  It certainly would cover you better than an improvised sheet toga.  Before you could think twice about it, you opened the box, grabbed the shirt, and slipped it on.

The shirt swam on you, going past your butt.  The color was bad, and you winced at the image on the front.  But, you were now decent enough to venture down to the building’s shared laundry room.  So, after grabbing your hamper, detergent, and quarter jar; you did just that.

You hummed the Mission Impossible theme to yourself as you descended the stairwell to the ground floor.  Most of your friends lived on this level, but chances were they were fast asleep at this time of night.  You were glad of that as you hurried along.  You really didn’t want to run into anyone wearing your current getup.  It took several minutes to sort your laundry into a few machines and get everything started.  You were leaning against the last machine in the line, debating going back to your place or just staying here when you heard something that made you freeze.  Upbeat whistling that was growing closer each second.  You knew that whistle You did not want to see the owner of that whistle right now.  You had already been embarrassed in front of crush today, you really didn’t need him showing up for round two.  You were debating how quickly you could scramble into a dryer to hide when Sero Hanta entered the room.  

He briefly glanced your way.  “Hey Y/N!  I figured I might see you here.  I’ll admit I’ve seen some shit, and that was gross even by my standards.  I wanted to ask how you were doing.  Make sure you weren’t injured or any…”. He trailed off when he finally registered what exactly you were wearing.  His grin turned positively feral as he set his own laundry bag to the side.

“My, my, my.”  Sero gave a rumbling chuckle.  “Whatever do we have here?”  Sero’s eyes could sweep up and down your body.  His signature grin grew wider as his gaze lingered on your t-shirt clad chest.  

You crossed your arms, attempting to hide the gigantic image of a lime green, glittery, prancing unicorn proclaiming “I’m horny!”  What were the odds that someone else would be washing their clothes at two in the morning?  Apparently changes were pretty damn high, you thought as you leveled a half hearted glare at your friend and neighbor.  

“It’s laundry day, Hanta, don’t read into it.”

“But Hermosa!  How can I not?  The first time I see mi corazón wearing the gift I so painstakingly chose for her?”  He waggled his eyebrows as his trademark teasing grin spread over his face.

You blushed, turning your head to the side and refusing to look at him.

“You’re full of crap, Cellophane.  It’s been a really shitty day, and this was literally my only thing to wear.”

Sero nodded and hummed, turning to put his own laundry in the machines.  “Si, si.  It was a rather difficult time, it looked like.  And you okay though?  Not injured?  I didn’t get a chance to catch up with you after the fight was over.”

You groaned, tilting your head back and covering your face with your hands. “I’m afraid I got a nasty case of extreme embarrassment and took a heavy blow to my pride.  Of course you fuckers had to be the heros on duty for that whole debacle.”

Hanta looks at you seriously as shoves disorganized armfuls of laundry into the nearest machine.  “I’d rather it be me saving you than anybody else, Querida.”

You let your hands fall to your side with a disgruntled sigh.  “Why?  So you can witness all the embarrassing situations you can blackmail me with?”

“Well now that you mention it, yes.”  Sero dumped an obscene amount of soap into the washer before turning it on.  “However,” he purred in a sinful voice that startled you.  He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar.  He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar.  Squeaking, you inched away from him until the back of your legs were pressed firmly against the cold metal of the washing machine. Hanta leaned over your retreating frame, placing an arm on either side of you, caging you in.  “Querida mia, I want to always be able to make sure you are safe.”

You placed your hands on his chest, halfheartedly trying to shove him away.

“That’s very touching.  Now get out of my personal space.”

 “But Querida,”  Sero murmured, his voice going low and sensual, moving closer until your hips pressed against each other.  “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than your personal space.  Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte...”

With him so close, there was nothing you could do to disguise the shiver that ran through you at his words.  

“Oh?  What’s this?”  Sero said.  His large hands traveled to your hips, his long fingers finding their way under the hem of your shirt to tantalizingly stroke your skin.  He leaned forward, voice turning to a growl with his mouth next to your ear.  “Hermosa likes me speaking Español, hmm?”

You bite your lip before giving in and nodding.

“Well, in that case…  Taco supreme!”

The fingers that had been stroking your skin suddenly became deadly, horrible tickle weapons; digging into your sides and moving rapidly.  You shrieked with surprised laughter, thrashing from side to side as you tried to escape.  However, Hanta’s large frame and firm hips kept you pinned against the washing machine as his traitorous fingers continued their assault.  He continues to tease in between his own laughter.  “Nachos grande!  Cinnamon Twists!  Quiero Taco Bell!”

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you wheeze and slap at his chest.  “Stop!  Stop!  You horrible man!”  He gets in a few more tickles before he does stop, wrapping his arms around you, pulling into a tight hug as you both take a few moments to pant and calm your laughter.  He nuzzles your neck before asking softly, “Feel better?”

You nod, just enjoying his warm body wrapped around you.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”  Your voice just as soft as his, one of your hands finds its way up to stroke his hair.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

“Please.”  You whisper softly, tugging at his hair just enough to encourage him to move his head back.  Your lips find each other, cautious and gentle at first.  Then, Hanta nips at your lower lip, and you let your mouth fall open with a whimper.  The kiss is hunger and passion, and heat.  Tongues wrestling, teeth lightly biting and teasing each other as hands roam and grope.  Sero’s hands find the back of your thighs and soon he’s lifting you, setting you down on the edge of the washing machine.  He presses himself between your spread legs, bucking against you, and you can feel his hard length teasing you through your clothes.

“Wanted this so long.  You have no idea how long.  Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti.  Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.”

“Me too.  Wanted this so long, but didn’t think you felt the same.  Now get back here and kiss me like you mean it!”

He happily complied, his lips fitting over yours as if they had been made to be placed together.  The kisses and touches didn’t stay innocent long, his hands finding your breasts through your shirt, teasing and pulling at your nipples.  One of your hands traveled down to stroke the obvious bulge that was rutting against you.  Between his thrusting and the vibrations of the machine you were sitting on, your shorts were becoming visibly soaked.  His fingers found their way up a leg hole and he moaned sinfully when he found there weren't any undergarments keeping his touch from your soaking folds.  It was your turn to smirk, pulling away from his kisses to whisper in his ear.

“I told you, Darling.  Laundry day.”

“Amore, you’re going to be the death of me.”  He groans, shoving his face into your cleavage as he slips a finger into you.

You laugh breathlessly.  “You better not die on me, Hanta.  What I have in mind will be much less fun if you’re dead.”

“HOLY FUCK!”  Shouted a very recognizable voice from the doorway.  Your groan was not from pleasure as you rested your head on Sero’s shoulder.

“Piss off, Denki.”

“Hanta’s finally getting some honey!  Score man!”

“What’s going on?” Mina’s sleep heavy voice drifted in from the hallway.

“Y/n and Sero are going to Pound Town in the Laundry Room!”

“Denki, en el nombre de Dios, I will kill you if you don’t back out of that doorway and let me finish what I started.”

Bakugo’s voice rang down the hall “No fucking in the goddamn Laundryroom!”

Kiri’s voice soon followed “Take it easy, Tsuki!  They can clean up when they’re done!  Get some guys!  You need condoms?”

Sero sighed deeply, pulling his hand out of your pants as your shoulders shook from silent laughter.  “I think, Hermosa, we can agree no fucking in front of the friend group?”

You nodded, laughing as you jumped down from your washing machine perch. “Not until the third date at least.”

Sero moaned softly, not expecting the way that statement had made his cock twitch.  Acting quickly, he scooped you up, and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  “My room.  Now.”

“Ooo, Caveman Hanta.  Sexy.”

Denki jumped to the side to let Sero pass, calling after you “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

You called back “Well, I’m going to do Hanta, so what does that say about you?”

Sero’s hand came down on your bottom with a firm smack as he continued down the hallway and around the corner, taking you two toward his apartment and out of sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spanish guide- 

Amiga- Friend

Querida- Darling

Hermosa- Beautiful

Querida mia- My darling.

 Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte- If you knew the things that I want to do to you

Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti.  Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.-  And then today I was so worried about you. When I saw that you were in danger, I wanted to kill that villain and lock you up where you would never be in danger again.

Hey guys!  Pan here, hope you enjoyed it.  It’s been quite a while since I’ve put any of my fanfic out there, so please be gentle with me.  I just used Google translate for the Spanish, so I’m sure some of it is very wrong.  If you have corrections, please feel free to send them my way!  Also, if you see any triggers that need tagging please let me know.  I also accept constructive criticism, and appreciate having spelling and grammar mistakes pointed out.  Also want to take the chance to answer this question ahead of time-

“The fuck is up with the dildo?!?!”

The Dildo of Doom is based on real events.  That actually happened.  One of my former sorority sisters found the dong of death at a thrift store.  It did indeed have teeth marks on it.  Human teeth marks, I should clarify.  Truth is stranger than fiction.

I have to thank @reinawritesbnha for helping me edit some clunky sections.  If you aren’t already familiar with her work, please check her out!

Taglist- @reinawritesbnha @nkjktk

[jordanstrophe]

Going Once, Going Twice, part 10

Prison party, part 2/?

Masterlist

CW: Pet whumpees, whump party, abuse, collars, restraints, manhandling, shock collar, public torture, panic attack, anxiety, creepy whumpers, 

Robert held Peter close in his arms, not daring letting him an inch apart in fear someone would just rip him from his arms. This was a bad idea... This was a terrible stupid bad idea, his gut feeling was going haywire, but they were there now. Might as well get it over with as soon as possible. 

There were people all standing around, the room filled with chattering and laughing, drowning the sobbing coming from some of the Pets that were either standing by their owners cowering, or quietly kneeling at their feet. You could tell a lot about that person based on how they were treating their Pets and how they were behaving, limping, black eyes or tight collars. 

Robert scanned the crowd trying to find Nina, before walking to the main room. It was a dining room, a long massive table in the center, slowly being filled with expensive exotic foods for dinner. Some people were already claiming their seat early, as close to the ends as possible hoping to be seated by someone important. 

“My my, what a sweet thing you have there.” A deep charming voice said from behind. Peter went stiff, as Robert glanced behind him. There was the Barron, standing well dressed in a suit and bow tie, a Pet kneeling at his feet with a chain attracted to his bound wrists, like a leash. 

“He’s... Clean.” The man tilted his head to get a better look at Peter’s face, noting the lack of damage. He had plenty of scars, sure, but you would have to really look to find them. “Can I help you?” Robert muttered. The man let out a loud jolly laugh, throwing his head back. The battered bruised Pet at his feet cringed fearfully. 

Peter’s heart pounded in his chest, both from fear and guilt. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the broken Pet at his feet, cowering, terrified.

That was supposed to be him... Wasn’t it.

“This must be your first time here, call me Nicholas Grimm. You must be Robert McAllen, right? I don’t recognize you entirely, it was pretty dark at the auction. But I do recognize him.” They pointed. Peter flinched when he moved his arm, as if he had been shot. “I sincerely apologize, but I’m looking for someone, if you don’t mind.” Robert tried to keep his voice as polite as he could, backing away. “Come now! I’m an important man, sit with me at dinner, there’s something I must discuss with you.” He smiled, extending his hand to the dinner table. “Oh, I wasn’t planning on staying for dinner, I’m really in a hurry.” He muttered, trying to make it clear he was walking off. 

“You’re.. Not staying for dinner?” He was clearly trying not to break down laughing again, biting on his lower lip. “No sir!” He called, hoping he was inched far away enough it was appropriate to walk away. 

The Barron shook his head with a large satisfied smile. “What an absolute fool... He has no idea.” He giggled to himself. He glanced down at the Pet at his feet, giving him a swift hard kick against his leg. ‘’Isn’t that right?” He hissed harshly down at the boy. “Yes sir!” He immediately shouted in response. “No stutter... Good job. That’s one less punishment for tonight. Keep it up.” He growled.

“Are you okay?” Robert whispered down as Peter. “I’m fine...” He muttered with a shaky voice. “I’m sorry... I didn’t know he would be here.” He admitted with guilt. He felt a weight being torn from his arm, as he gasped and whirled around. A tall woman had a grasp on Peter’s arm, wrenching it up as she pulled him close. Peter let out a cry as her long sharp nails dug into his arm. “Oh how adorable! I’ve never seen such a clean empty canvas before.” She smiled wildly, grabbing his chin and tilting it to the side. “Hey! Get yours hands off!” Robert yelled, grabbing Peter in one hand, shoving her hand off with the other. “You dare?... You don’t have to be so rude about it! I was just looking!” The woman snapped, crossing her arms. She wore a hat with long white feathers flowing from it. “Then look with your eyes...” Robert cursed under his breath. She raised an eyebrow. “I want to borrow him. How much?” She asked. “He’s not up for grabs, please don’t touch him.” Robert snapped. Peter immediately latched onto his shirt trying to hide himself underneath his coat. 

Robert shook his head in disgust at the woman as he slid through the crowd as for away from the women as he could. He found somewhat of a clear corner as he sat down on a couch and setting Peter next to him. “Are you okay? Let me see your wrist...” He muttered, gently taking his arm and pulling his sleeve up. “I’m okay.” He muttered, his voice was obviously shaking as he trembled. “Honey...” Robert sighed. “That’s it... We’re going home, I can’t believe I actually brought you here. I never imagined it was like this.” He muttered. “But, you didn’t get what you came for!” He tried to argue back. “It doesn’t matter! You’re not safe here. I don’t even see Nina. It was just a stupid letter, you’re more important then that.” He said.

Peter let off a small sad smile. “I’m sorry, I should never have made such a scene... Urrg.. I’m so stupid!” He cried out, digging his nails in his hair. Robert immediately snatched his hands up in his. “Young man, none of that. We’ll talk in the car.” He said, standing him up and walking straight for the door. He kept his head down as he pushed his way through the crowd, but when he reached for the handle, the door didn’t budge. “What the....” He muttered, jostling the door back and forth. 

“Well well... Would you look at that. Speak of the devil.” A creeping voice sang. Robert shut his eyes in disturbance, slowly turning around to face Nina. “Hey cousin...” He muttered, nodding in acknowledgme- “DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT!” She hissed with a shrieking voice. The room quickly went into deathly silence, as she chuckled, cleaning her throat. “Ehem... Excuse me. I never dreamed in a thousand years that I would see you, here of all places. And what’s this you have here?” She smirked, bending down with her hands resting on her knees. “You, Rob, have a Pet. My Robert McAllen, has a Pet.” She laughed. “Honestly, I wanted to put you on a ban list of every occasion I threw, but I didn’t bother with this one because, well, I figured you were too much of a poster boy to get one. Where'd you get him at, second hand thrift store for five dollars? Hah!” She laughed at her own joke.

“Five million at an auction.” He gave a sweet yet smug smile.

“F-f-f-five... Million.” She muttered, eyes going wide, almost dropping the glass she held in her hand that went slack. “You paid five m-million, of MY money, on a little Pet?!” She hollered. She tried to get a good look at Peter’s face, who was pressing his body against Robert’s back. 

“Awww... He’s is pretty cute.” She cooed, her mood instantly shifting as she gave him a small smile and wave. He only had one eye poking out from behind him, wide and fearful. 

“I was here for you, actually. I wanted to talk to you about a letter that was left for me. A letter from my mother.” He explained. 

“A letter, hmm? Not familiar with it.” She shrugged. “I think you are, and I’m willing to pay for it.” He said. She gave him a curious look, before a smirk spread across her face. Sit next to me at dinner, at my left hand.” She smiled, turning to walk away. “Wait! I need to take him home. Can you unlock the door?” He called. 

She broke down laughing, she laughed and laughed as it echoed throughout the walls. “Oh darling!” She laughed. “You really didn’t do your research. At five the doors close and lock, no one in, no one out until midnight. That’s the rules.” She shrugged. ‘'What? What kind of a rule is that? Just let us out!” He hollered. “It’s our only rule, you should have checked, it was on the front page where the party was advertised. Chill out now, have a drink, join us for dinner, show off your preciouses boy you got there. You’re here now, might as well enjoy it.” She waved, slithering off into the crowd.

Robert sighed, trying the door one last time as if it might magically become unlocked. “M-master...” Peter muttered, tugging his coat. “I’ll be okay, I can do this, I have you.” He gave him a nervous smile. Robert placed a hand on his head. “I’m so sorry hon... I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” He muttered back. 

He joined the dinner table, Nina sat at the head, of course, with the spot she promised left open for him. She was happily chatting away as a guest standing next to her, her eyes immediately caught his, as she waved him over. 

Robert glanced at the single chair, then back at her. “Just put him on the floor, you can feed him scraps if that’s what you choose.” She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’d rather just hold him.” He glared. “Hold him-? Whatever.” She waved her hand, annoyed. 

Robert Pulled Peter onto his lap who immediately latched onto his shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Nina waved the man away who was trying to talk to her, as she stared at Peter intensely. 

“My eyes are up here.” Robert grumbled. She spat out a laugh, before turning attention to the person who just sat at her right hand. “There’s the man of the hour.” She smiled. “Hello my dear.” The Barron smiled gleefully, shoving his Pet to the floor at his feet. Robert knew at that moment something was going on. He wasn’t sure what, but she was up to something. 

‘’Nina, the letter...” Robert tried. Before he could get anymore out, the lights began to dim. “Sssh! We’ll talk after the show. Barron wants to talk to you too.” She smiled before turning her attention to a stage, as red curtains that took up the entire wall slowly lifted.

A man in a top hat was standing over another who was heavily restrained, with his head down silently.

“Good day to the ladies and gentlemen. I hope each and everyone enjoys tonight's show! This here is Eden, he’s going to be demonstrating his marvelous obedience and respect.” The man smiled. “But if he doesn’t perform flawlessly, he gets a slight punishment...” The man winked, holding up a trigger, mercilessly hitting the button. The man let out a holler, chest slamming onto the floor, as a buzzing sound could be heard. The man let go of the button, grabbing his hair and forcing his head up to show off the shock collar around his neck, the crowd laughing and cheering.

“Master!” Peter whispered as loudly as he dared. “I can’t see this! Please don’t let me watch this, I’m begging you!” He panicked, clutching onto his coat desperately. He was on the verge of hyperventilating, as Robert let him off his lap. “Go in the front room sweetie, I’ll come get you in a minute.” He whispered. “Thank you!” He cried, bolting off while covering his ears. 

Robert knew Peter had some built up trauma, he couldn’t quite watch this either, but he couldn’t do all of this only to miss his one window with Nina. 

The Barron shot a glance back, noticing Peter slipping off into the other room. He smirked, before turning his attention back to the stage with a wide evil grin.

Nina McAllen

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @moose-teeth @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @yet-another-heathen @sillypizzazineoperator @freefallingup13 @alien-octopus @unicornscotty @whumpzone  @penny-for-your-whump @girlwithnoballons242 @whumpingredroses  @rippedjeansandfadeddreams  @cupcakes-and-pain @thinkingofausername

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Thank you for reading!

[trvelyans-archive]

i am on my hands and knees begging for u to tell me about lila and margot 🙏

jasmine.............. thank you for this gift

under the cut because i expect it’ll get very long <3 :) update after i finished writing: it is, in fact, very long and also took me over an hour. so. take that as whatever sort of warning you might want.

let’s start with margot !

she was born to a couple of really young parents who..... did not want to be parents. at all. they were still in the party-and-get-drunk phase of their life and didn’t want to have a kid to worry about, so a large part of her childhood was spent couch surfing between relatives, mostly her grandfather.

they were really close! he would help her with her homework, they would cook together, he would let her drink underage so that she was well-versed in beer by the time she was like. idk. 16 lol. but she felt closer to him than her own parents, who were good when they were around but. they mostly weren’t around <3

when she was 19, her grandpa starting showing pretty serious signs of memory loss and whatnot and eventually had to be moved into a home. she was living with him by that point, so she had to continue to spend a year or so of her adult life couchsurfing. it didn’t help that she was in school full-time to get an engineering degree of. some kind. i think mechanical engineering. idk. and didn’t have a job, so to pay back her roommates she took up a majority of the housework as well as picked up odd jobs on the weekend. her grandpa’s health continued to decline through this time so she didn’t actually mind being busy because then she. didn’t have to think about it at all <3

and then.............. when she was 20......... her boyfriend of a year  suggested that she not only move in with him but that they get married and margot, who has never had stability ever in her life, jumped at the opportunity !

after she graduated, she found it incredibly hard to find a career (even though they were in the same program and He had no trouble finding one), so she was back to not working but her husband didn’t mind and he supported her whole-heartedly. during this time she started running and then eventually started going to a gym with a couple of her female friends from their neighbourhood! she would also spend a lot of time at her grandpa’s but his health was still rapidly declining. eventually her now-husband said that she should probably stop visiting him and margot was like “.... ok i guess”

And then. :)

she kept spending time outside of the house and started taking self-defense classes with a few of her friends and her husband was started to get very antsy. he wanted her to be at home, told her that he didn’t like her going out at night or, eventually, at all, and would find ways to keep her home every night so she didn’t go out. during this time he also started getting. um. very manipulative. he was easily triggered into starting arguments. so she increased the frequency of her self-defense classes and, eventually, they became Very Useful in an argument with her husband. so. we hate him :)

after that she filed for a divorce, moved away and changed her name to her late grandmother’s last name. she started working at a gym in her new town and eventually decided to open her own ! she had gotten the building about 2-3 weeks before the outbreak hit and didn’t have any furniture or equipment of any kind, so she met up with 2 middle-aged women from her old gym and they travelled together until one of them was bitten in a fight with walkers and dragged into a big crowd of them to be eaten and the other one was bitten and margot had to shoot her when she got zombified and tried to attack. :(

that’s where i have left off for now but i am going to develop her More the more i watch the show !!!

okay. backstory over. now for the fun bits:

her faceclaim is mackenzie davis specifically in terminator (without the. lines on her arms and whatever idk what those are) and this picture is the most margot-vibe imaginable.

the haircut was an incredibly recent choice but it came in handy during the outbreak because she didn’t have to worry about keeping hair out of her face. girlboss !

she is 6′2 :) her and her husband were funnily enough the 2 tallest people in her graduating class

she spoke occasionally to her parents after graduating and moving away but they fell out of touch a year or so before the outbreak began and she......................... unsurprisingly doesn’t miss them at all

she has 1 keepsake and it’s an old keychain of her grandpa’s and if anything happens to it. she will kill everyone in any room and Then herself !!!

she likes to where tank tops to show off her big arms. is this very ergonomical in the apocalypse where zombie bites can kill you instantly ? nope! will she do it anyway to intimidate people ? yup!

she Cannot cook. at all. she lived off of take-out and microwavable meals for the first 20 years of her life and then she always had someone else making food for her until she moved away on her own when it was back to takeout.

on the topic of food :) her fave foods are mac and cheese with breadcrumbs and meatlover’s pizza !

she will do literally anything for a good beer. anything. she keeps an eye out for them every time she goes scavenging in buildings and will try to get at least 1 bottle per trip. girlboss !

she cannot sing. in fact she’s not just average, she’s Terrible. she can, however, play mad guitar because her grandpa taught her.

now onto miss lila :)

she was born in a town a couple over from rick’s and was the younger sister of 2 ! she had a really great family and a very very happy childhood :) her dad was a wildlife rehabilitator and her mom was a landscaper who took a lot of pride in their nice big backyard and garden and Land where they. you know. rehabiliated the wildlife and what not

she worked a lot with her dad and mom at their wildlife centre and also helped her mom garden a lot (their house was on the same property as the centre so it was a nice big plot of land). she took a lot of interest in rehabilitating animals and it sparked a very early childhood interest in Caring for things (namely little wild critters) which extended to her helping out little kids on the playground when they got scraped knees and things. she always had a package of bandaids in her backpack from second grade on. an angel <3

in her final year of high school she had a very quick fling with a boy from her high school that ended… poorly. and then she got pregnant! which she. Did not expect. nor want. nor need in her life because she was planning on moving to atlanta to go to medical school and kickstart her career. her sister, who had recently dropped out of school and lost her job, decided to Take One for the team and claim the baby as hers so lila could go to medical school and stuff. their parents promised to take good care of her and they all made a plan to hide lila’s pregnancy from their town (although i’m sure literally everyone knows anyway) and then she moved away in the summer after giving birth to go to school

she quickly finished up her nursing program but was out of job for a few years until she got a job offer to be the nurse at king county elementary school aka the school were one Carl Grimes goes to school. she moved there in may and one night, when her car Squealed to a stop in front of a dog who had run away from his home and was being chased by. Um. a certain sheriff’s deputy who was intending on bringing the puppy back home <3 they got to talking and. Well. the rest is history…..

she was a very beloved member of the staff and kids would often fake sick just to come to her office and get a sucker and she grew esp close to the grimes family :D after a couple of years living in king county she got a job to start working at some fancy prep school in atlanta and decided that actually she might want to. You know. start being a mom now that she was finished with school and had a career. so she moved away from king county at the end of the next school year and was unfortunately in atlanta when it was bombed by the government at the start of the outbreak so she and her daughter and sister all died :) and that’s that !

some fun facts because that was a very depressing end to her story:

she always has suckers in her office at school and her favourites are the watermelon ones.

she can often be found gardening in her backyard or watching the birds in the trees like a little nature baby !!!

she is very meticulous about planning. she Does have a daily agenda. she Will kill you if you touch it. shane likes to leave her little notes in it for her to find when she’s at school. sometimes they are not Just cute. she usually erases those.

she likes collecting ugly thrift store paintings of animals and hangs them up in her dining room and she Does think they are incredibly funny.

she is a vegetarian !!! very unwavering about it. shane finds it annoying because he’s good at cooking steak but she just has a salad and then they’re both perfectly happy <3

sends basically everyone she knows a Christmas/holiday card every year. even the teachers at the elementary school who don’t like her and or barely talk to her !!!

she is a terrible maker of tea and usually forgets about cups before she’s even halfway through them (thank god for her). makes everyone tea when they come over except shane (stupid ass) because he doesn’t like it and usually people just politely swallow it even though it’s too steeped or. sorry idk how tea works. she just Makes It Bad ok

she perpetually forgets to do laundry. Most of her non-scrubs have dirt stains or dressing stains or whatnot (except for her Really nice clothes) which is why she tries to buy a lot of patterns. makes things easier to hide <3

and that’s it for now !!! i have so much other lore for them but i will stop here for now :) thank you very much if you read this also i’m very sorry i have twd brainworms i cannot help it. anyway ok that’s it thanks love you bye

[artificialqueens]

Girl I Met On The Internet, 6/6 (Crystal x Gigi) - Strawberry

a/n: and it’s a wrap! for now anyway bc i totally dont have a fic coming based on the good news nicky had for jaida! i just want to say thank you to every single person who read, liked and reblogged this story. it means so much to me, i’m so glad people enjoyed the strange idea that came into my brain. <3 (also! i wanted to let you guys know that i’m planning on posting this fic on ao3 as well, probably after this chapter is posted on here. my username on there is drivingmecrazy !!)

crystal: does everyone’s spring break start this weekend too?? anyone doing anything??

jan!: mine does! i’m staying home all week, jackie is leaving me :(

nicky: my spring break isn’t until late april!! wtf :(

heidi: ha loser

heidi: i’m going to play animal crossing all weekend i can’t wait

Jackie: I’m going to Canada to visit family on Sunday. Jan, if you want we can hang out on Saturday if you’re going to miss me that much. :P

nicky: i’ll hang out with you jackie

jan: i hate you nicky

jaida: i have a pageant next week!!

jan!: yaas gorg

nicky: bring home the crown!

crystal: GO JAIDA!

nicky: also jaida call me. i have good news for you :)

gigi: crystal you already know what’s going down

crystal: do i now?

gigi: GOOD LUCK JAIDA!!! NO MATTER WHAT YOU ARE OUR WINNER

Crystal had somewhat of an idea of what was going down. She had been granted permission to sleep over at Gigi’s house, and they would be going on their date the following day. Gigi would not tell Crystal anything about where they were going, and refused to give her any hints no matter how much Crystal begged. 

The next morning, on their walk to school, Crystal finally got a hint. 

“You tweeted about it. That’s all I’ll tell you.”

“That’s not helpful at all!” Crystal had almost 30 thousand tweets, her Twitter was her space to say weird things without being judged too harshly, and she had a lot of things to say! She thought about things she might’ve tweeted about wanting to do, or places she wanted to go, but came up empty handed.

“Well, you have the whole day to think about it. I’ll meet you after school, yeah?”

-

Gigi’s mom offered to pick them up after school, even though the walk from their school to Gigi’s house wasn’t far. Crystal finally met Nancy, Gigi’s beloved dog. Crystal didn’t want to do anything besides hold the dachshund to her chest all night, but Gigi wouldn’t let her, saying it wasn’t fair for Nancy to get all of the attention even though Gigi does the exact same thing with Tic Tac.

They made homemade pizza for dinner, and played monopoly with Gigi’s parents and her brother. Gigi’s brother thought Crystal was cute, and hit on Crystal; trying out a ridiculous pickup line on the green haired girl every chance he got. After they called off the game, Gigi excused her and Crystal to her room.

“So quick to leave, Georgina,” Crystal teased, sitting down next to Nancy who was using Gigi’s strawberry cow pillow pet as a headrest. 

“Wanna spend time with you. Can we cuddle?”

“Yeah, of course.”

They sat in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company until Gigi spoke up.

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Couldn’t do what?” Crystal asked, lost.

“Come out to my friends. I thought I was ready but obviously I’m not.”

“It’s okay, Gigi. You’ll know when it’s time, don’t rush it.”

“I just want to be more open, I guess.”

“That’s good, but it’s not going to happen overnight. You have to take baby steps, G.”

“Was it hard? To come out?”

“To who?” Crystal snorted, “You know I don’t have any friends. I’m pretty sure everyone at school already knows, though.”

“Does your mom know?”

“Probably. She got a little too suspicious when I started liking Poppy.”

This turned into revealing who their first gay crush was, and how and when they figured out they liked girls like the rest of their friends liked boys. Crystal told Gigi about how she originally tried to fake like One Direction so no one would suspect anything, and Gigi told Crystal about how she refused to listen to any music sung by female artists for half a year before they decided to go to sleep.

-

Crystal had woken up first. She didn’t bother waking up Gigi, going to scroll through Twitter instead. It was still early, but the group chat was on some bullshit, Jan changed her display name to Nicky and changed her profile picture to Nicky’s to mock her. Nicky did not find this funny in the slightest, but Jaida did.

nicky: i’m nicky i’m french i love stealing my friends gfs

jaida: omg period!

THE REAL nicky: JAIDA THAT’S NOT ME!!!

jaida: proof?

THE REAL nicky: I HATE IT HERE!!

nicky: croissant

crystal: HELPDGNJKFNJ

THE REAL nicky: i cannot stand jan. this is why jackie should date me instead

Crystal couldn’t stop laughing, which ended up waking Gigi up. Gigi was grumpy at first, but that changed when she realized they needed to get ready to go on the date she had planned.

After they had gotten up and dressed, they sat next to each other in front of the giant, floor length mirror next to Gigi’s closet to do their makeup. Gigi stopped doing her makeup after putting on her foundation, deciding that watching Crystal do her eye shadow was more entertaining than finishing the look she had in mind.

“Stop looking at me, you’re making me nervous!” Crystal giggled when she noticed Gigi’s stares, not actually wanting Gigi to stop.

“I’ll think about it,” Gigi paused, pretending to think, “I will not. You look beautiful.”

Crystal squawked, “I barely have anything on my face!”

“So?”

“What are you, gay or something?” Crystal teased, making Gigi poke at her sides, “Stop being a dork and finish your makeup!”

“Fine. Only because we need to get going soon.”

-

“Wait, you know how to drive?” Crystal asked, getting in the passenger seat.

“Yeah! I don’t have my own car yet, but I got my license on my 16th birthday. I am not enforcing the stereotype at all!” Gigi grinned, opening the garage door and starting her mom’s car.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Can I play music?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Gigi handed her the aux cord and started backing out of the driveway. 

“Okay. This is the ultimate test,” Crystal stated, starting to play a song. “Which One Direction song is this?”

The song in question was good, but Gigi didn’t recognize it. She had only listened to ‘Midnight Memories’ because it was Crystal’s favorite album, and she knew for sure Crystal wasn’t playing a song from that album. “Is it from ‘Made in the A.M’?”

“Trick question! It’s one of Niall’s solo songs. It’s called ‘Dear Patience’!” Crystal laughed, thinking she had pulled off the biggest prank in the world.

“Oh, fuck. I should’ve known there was only one person singing.”

After fifteen minutes of driving, and Gigi almost running a stop sign, they finally pulled up at a cute little thrift shop on the outskirts of town, and Crystal was just about shaking with excitement. “I love thrifting! I’ve only been once, but it was so fun! I found that jumpsuit I wore that one day while thrifting!” She rambles, rushing to get out of the car and inside.

“Wait, when I did tweet about this?”

Around the time they had first started talking, Crystal had tweeted about how her dream date was going thrifting. Gigi naturally stored this information in the back of her mind, even though at the time she never thought she would need it.

On their walk from the parking lot to the store, Crystal held her hand out, which Gigi hesitantly accepted.

“We should play a game! We should split up and pick out an outfit for the other person without them knowing and then meet up and try them on!” 

Gigi’s heart swelled, Crystal was so cute. “That sounds fun, but how do I know this isn’t just a trick to dress me up in something hideous?” Gigi teased, making Crystal blush.

“I would never, don’t be ridiculous,” Crystal scoffed, “I’ll save that for the next time we go thrifting!”

Crystal let go of Gigi’s hand to open the door for her, splitting up as soon as they walked into the shop.

It didn’t take them very long to pick out their pieces. Crystal stayed true to her word, picking out a light green, halter top dress for Gigi. Gigi, on the other hand, had picked out a hideous pair of neon pink, zebra print leggings and a red flannel shirt.

“Gigi, what is that?” Crystal scrunched up her nose in disgust.

“You like patterns, why not clash them?” Gigi tried to defend herself, but could barely finish her sentence before bursting out laughing.

“No! I’m not getting that! I’m not even going to try on that outfit. It’s yucky.”

“That’s fine, give me the dress you picked out for me. I need that.” Gigi snatched it from Crystal’s hands, walking quickly to the dressing room.

The dress looked gorgeous on Gigi. Crystal was so glad she took their game seriously. 

They looked around together for a little bit before wandering from each other yet again. Gigi somehow ended up with a pile of clothes that you would only see in a very successful thrifting haul video on YouTube. Crystal had stuck to the men’s section, immediately claiming some loud button ups and with a little digging, she found a very specific, out of place t-shirt that said something about how ‘real grandmas drink Dr. Pepper’ that she found hilarious and needed to own.

“What does that say? Some grandmas play bingo, real grandmas drink Dr. Pepper?” Gigi questioned when they finally met back up, “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, but it’s sending me. I need it!”

“So you hated my outfit I got for you, but you’re buying that?” Gigi teased.

“You do not understand the art of highly specific shirts, like these, babe. I’ll have to teach you all about them later.”

Gigi thought Crystal was an idiot, but she couldn’t stop smiling.

-

After paying for their clothes, they got back into the car. Gigi started driving, not telling Crystal where their next stop was. The stop happened to be the Taco Bell drive thru, which Crystal was excited about. “Okay, I do remember tweeting about wanting to go to Taco Bell.” 

When they got their food, Gigi placed the bag in the back seat, making Crystal raise an eyebrow. 

“You’re a messy eater, so we aren’t eating in the car. My mom would kill me if we made a mess.”

While Crystal tried to convince Gigi she was not a messy eater and her mom’s car would be fine, Gigi pulled up to a park.

“Can you find a spot to sit down at so we can eat it there?” Gigi requested. It took Crystal about two seconds to travel from the car to the grass, settling down in a shady spot underneath some trees. Gigi joined Crystal, holding a blue blanket as well as the brown paper bag.

“It’s not a picnic blanket, I couldn’t find one but I hope it works.”

“It does! I love picnics!” Crystal hops up so Gigi can lay down the blanket, going to retrieve the drinks that they forgot in the car. 

Their lunch was filled with flirting, stupid inside jokes and Crystal loved every second of it. She knew for sure by the end of the day she would not be single anymore, but the lack of confirmation was making her antsy.

Once they were done eating, Gigi collected all of the wrappers and cups, walking across the grass to the nearest trash can to dispose of them. When Gigi came back, she had a huge grin on her face, “Well, Crystal Elizabeth. I would like to think that I successfully wooed you, if only you could do something for me in return…”

“What do you have in mind, Georgina?” Crystal giggles, hoping Gigi couldn’t tell how nervous that statement made her.

“Crystal Elizabeth, I was wondering if you would be my girlfriend?” 

“God, yes. I’ve been waiting for this for months.” Crystal exclaimed, immediately being pulled into a kiss.

They stayed at the park after that. Crystal’s inner child had jumped out after the kiss was broken and she wanted to play on the playground. 

“Wait, Crystal! Come here, the light looks good right now and we need to take our reveal selfie!”

-

Their date came to an end when Crystal’s mom texted her asking to come home. Crystal’s mom had no idea what she was interrupting, as Crystal did not tell her mom what they were actually doing.

“I hate it here, I would let this date go on all week if I could.” Crystal pouted, buckling her seatbelt.

“If there’s any other place you want to go this week, we could go on our second date.” Gigi smiled, reaching out to hold Crystal’s hand.

“Be careful, I know steering with one hand is peak lesbianism, but I don’t know if you’re a good enough driver to do that yet.” Crystal joked, even though she gladly accepted Gigi’s hand.

“Oh, shut up. Like you could go ten minutes without holding my hand.”

Crystal kissed Gigi again when they got on her street, Gigi parking a few houses down for privacy.

“This was fun. I really am happy with everything. You completely wooed me, Georgina.”

“I’m glad. Does this mean I can call you my clown girlfriend now?” Gigi jokingly asked, making Crystal let out a tiny scream.

“As dumb as that sounds, yes. You can.”

Gigi did not let Crystal get out of the car without getting another kiss.

-

Crystal entered her house, her grin slowly fading when she saw her mom waiting for her.

“You took a while to come home.” Crystal’s mom started, under the impression she was at Gigi’s house. “What took you so long?”

“Yeah, sorry. I couldn’t find my charger.” Crystal felt bad for lying to her mom, but she didn’t want to tell her what happened yet.

“Oh, your generation and your phones. I was starting to get worried.”

“Mama, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I’m going to my room now, is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’m about to start dinner. We’re having your favorite!”

The second Crystal got into her room, she locked her door and jumped on her bed, logging onto Twitter.

crystal: good evening l a d i e s

jan!: HEY!

jaida: crystal!

Jackie: You haven’t been active today, what were you up to?

heidi: not jackie demanding answers

nicky: ooooh

gigi: well, since you asked…

crystal: :D

gigi: my girlfriend crystal and i went on our first date today. isn’t she beautiful??

The group erupted into chaos the second they saw their selfie, congratulating the new couple for finally getting together. Crystal wouldn’t have it any other way. She would be forever grateful for being added into Elites Only, and even more for the special girl she had met there.

gigi: so, any ideas for our second date?

crystal: tons, babe. i’m gonna blow your mind.

[7official7moose7]

Probably one of the most rushed fics I’ve ever wrote!

Yes, here it is! Ladies and gentlemen, individuals alike, I present to you..

(insert drumroll here)

A platonic shopping date between two absolute babies :)

@xgoldentigerlilyx @teyamarra @reid-and-writing I’m very sorry for the quality of this fic, it’s okay at first but then it gets really out of character somewhere in the middle and I was way too lazy to fix it so I hope it’s not too bad-

“Spencer, wait up!”

Reid looked up to see Garcia rushing to the elevator, and he held the door for her. He flashed her a smile as she thanked him.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” Garcia asked, and Reid shook his head.

“No, but I do have a book I need to finish before Sunday. Why do you ask?” the elevator stopped, and they both stepped out, making their way outside.

“Oh, I was just wondering if you’d like to come with me to the new mall down on East Street. It just opened a couple of days ago, and I wanted someone to go with, if that’s okay with you?”

Spencer thought. I don’t really do shopping. But, she did go with me to that philosophy convention. I owe her.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” he said, “Tomorrow at twelve?”

Penelope threw her fist in the air with a “Yes!” and smiled up at him. “Absolutely, I’ll be there to pick you up on the dot! Thank you, boy wonder!” she said as they neared her car and Reid waved her goodbye as he continued down the sidewalk. Breathing in the warm August air, he smiled.

…

Spencer entered his apartment and sat his bag down beside the door. It was late, around ten or so. He flicked on the lights and plopped down on the couch, grabbing a book called Crime Or Clarity by Fiona Dewitt. It was a more simple read, but Spencer was enjoying it so far. He flipped to page 305 and continued where he left off.

“It would not be everyday that Steve Goodway would find himself wondering about his place on this earth. Everything he has accomplished, everything he’s fell short of. Is this really it? Or is there more, just beyond his reach? So, on this very day, he would promise himself that he would keep an open mind and an open heart to anything that calls his name through the brambles and nettle, and he would follow it even when the path doesn’t seem so inviting.”

Tomorrow was going to be a good day.

…

Penelope Garcia awoke at 9:48 a.m. with a smile on her face and a happiness in her heart. She started her day with a warm shower and sweet coffee. After that, she messaged Spencer, asking if he was still up for the mall date. He replied three minutes and twenty-seven seconds later with a “Getting ready now. :)”, and she smiled even brighter.

Garcia couldn’t wait to explore all the new stores and see what kind of crazy cute outfit they had in stock. She couldn’t wait to show Reid all the wonderful wonders of shopping and hopefully find a nice outfit for him. She couldn’t wait to convince him to wear said outfit to the Bureau on Monday.

It was now 11:37 a.m. and Garcia couldn’t wait to pick Spencer up.

…

Spencer Reid waited patiently on the couch, dressed in his usual sweater vest and button-down shirt. It was one minute and fifty-seven seconds after twelve when Penelope knocked on his apartment door, and when he opened it, they greeted each other with smiles and started down the stairs to the first floor. Penelope wore a green floral dress and a jean jacket with a dozen pins and stickers on top. Her black mesh leggings went well with her sparkly black bow and heels. 

They chatted all the way to the car and kept chatting as they pulled out of the parking lot.

“So, how’d you sleep?” Garcia asked.

“Good, I read 393 pages of Crime Or Clarity before I fell asleep on the couch. You?”

“Like a baby. As soon as I got home, I poured myself a glass of wine and I was out after an hour.”

Spencer hummed. “You know, places like a mall are much more hectic during the weekends, especially near holidays. Why do you choose to go during this time rather than waiting for it to clear up?”

Garcia laughed. “I like people watching, it gives me inspiration and a sense of peace, knowing that those people are out living their lives despite all the nasties out there doing bad things.”

“Actually, statistics prove-”

“Hey, let me have this. That’s all I ask of you,” Penelope said. Spencer giggled at her, and she gave him a smug smile.

Before they arrived at the mall, Garcia suggested they stop for lunch after she noticed both of their stomachs were growling. They ordered sandwiches from the nearest deli and sat in the shade of the umbrella on the patio outside the shop. 

Afterwhile, it started to get crowded, so they took it as their cue to get going. It was 1:13 p.m. when they finally found a parking space close to the entrance of the mall. 

…

“Which store first?” 

Spencer shrugged, knowing very little about any and every shop in the building. He looked around and pointed to one that looked interesting.

“What about that one?” he asked, and Garcia followed his eyes to the Way Out Thrift across the hall. She gasped and looked up at him. “You have great taste,” she said as she led him in. 

This thrift store had everything.

Spencer looked around, unsure where to start or even what to look for. Garcia immediately wandered to the clothes section, rummaging through racks of shirts and dresses. She noticed him standing there, so she waved him over and showed him a big beige sweater. “What do you think?” she asked, holding it up against his chest to measure. He took it and examined the fabric. “It’s nice, but this wool is coarse, which can irritate the skin. A finer wool would be better because fine wool sheep produce wool fibers with a very small fiber diameter, usually 20 microns or less.” he rambled on, giving Garcia time to find a light purple turtleneck. “This one’s cotton, what about this one?” she asked, again measuring it on him before he felt it. 

“Cotton fabric is considered better, though some people disagree because of the pesticides. Some cotton is grown with genetically modified seeds and sprayed heavily with Roundup, in which the primary ingredient is glyphosate, which could lead to cancer. But I don’t think it’s that bad,” he said, “In fact, I really like the feel of it.”

Garcia smiled. “Good, because this thing is going in your closet!” she said, and Spencer blinked. “I’m paying for it, don’t even think about it,” he said and Penelope gave him a look. “My treat?” she tried to convince him, but he refused. She stuck out her bottom lip in a fake pout, which made them both laugh.

After a little more looking around, Penelope and Spencer went to check out. Garcia ended up with a pretty yellow shift dress that Reid suggested, and a small woodpecker figurine for her office. Reid stuck with the purple turtleneck and picked up an additional sweater vest for his collection. Garcia suggested that he try something out of his zone, and he said he’d think about it.

“Where to next?” Spencer asked as they wandered down the hall, passing tons of shoe shops.

“Unless you want a new pair of kicks, maybe we could go up the escalator and see what they have up there,” Penelope joked. 

“Escalator it is,” he said.

…

“Did you know there were thirty-seven deaths in 2014 in China caused by escalator accidents, and a report found that more than twenty-six thousand escalators had safety issues that hadn’t been repaired?”

“No. No, I didn’t know that,” Garcia said, shifting closer to Reid, “And I don’t think I needed to know.”

A couple of people looked at them suspiciously when he said that, and Spencer almost felt bad for saying it out loud. Almost.

Once they made it to the top, all the smells were like a smack in the face. There were multiple food courts, including a donut shop and an icee stand. There was the new car smell, along with some kind of strong fragrance, most likely from a perfume shop. Enough to give them both headaches.

“Jeez, it’s like aroma central up here,” Penelope remarked. Spencer nodded in agreement. 

There were way less clothing stores on the second floor, but there was one store that stuck out to Reid. 

“What’s RetroWear?” he asked, pointing to the sign above the entrance. Garcia hummed. “I’ve never heard of it, it must be a new store,” she said.

“Wow, a clothes store that you’ve never heard of? So rare.”

“Don’t start with me, genius,” Garcia warned with a smirk, “Let’s go check it out, I’m sure they have some absurd piece of luxury clothing in there somewhere!”

Before Spencer could react, Penelope grabbed his wrist and dragged him in.

And oh boy, did that store have the good stuff.

Sweater vests here. Ties over there. Pretty floral dresses in between. And a whole section dedicated to Absurd Pieces Of Luxury Clothing.

“Oh. Em. Goodness,” Garcia whispered, “It’s like the shop gods just read my mind.”

Reid was also pretty impressed, and for the first time that day, he was the first to immediately begin looking at all the outfits. Garcia followed after him, showing him expensive Gucci purses and handbags she found while he presented to her a fuzzy orange sweater that he said would match her orange slice earrings. She gladly accepted it and gave him a nice pair of sunglasses in return.

After a bit of rummaging around in their sections, Penelope and Spencer decided that it was time that they go through the luxury clothes section. Spencer showed her a green and purple romper with plastic rhinestones lining the neck and sleeves, which made her laugh and kindly decline his offer to buy it for her. Next, she showed him a tiny crop top with a band logo on the back and a weed leaf on the front, claiming that it was definitely his style and that she was going to give it to him for his birthday. 

But the best thing they found that day was Spencer’s secret bad boy look.

…

“Hurry up, smart boy! I wanna see that smokin’ hot emo side of yours!”

Spencer sighed from inside the fitting room. “I don’t know, Penelope, it’s not really my style,” he said as he examined himself in the mirror, and Garcia scoffed. “That’s the whole point! Now get out here and let me see it.”

Finally, after a bit of contemplating, Spencer unlocked the door and stepped out. 

Garcia gasped.

He wore a red-and-black striped t-shirt and black skinny jeans with rips at the knees and a big leather jacket on top.

“Well?”

“I love it. I love you. I don’t care what you say, I’m buying that entire outfit for you and you cannot stop me.”

“Penelope, you don’t have to-”

“I want to. And I am. And you’re wearing that into work on Monday.”

“What- No, I can’t! Everyone’s gonna look at me like I’m crazy!”

“Then I’ll wear that ridiculous romper you showed me earlier to make us even.”

Reid rolled his eyes. “You always wear that kind of stuff, they won’t notice,” he said, throwing in a “No offense” after she glared at him. “Oh, everybody in that building knows I don’t do rompers. Trust me, they’ll notice,” she joked. 

After some of convincing, Spencer let her buy the outfit for him, but he wouldn’t let her get the romper. He did, however, manage to pay her back with a fancy new pen to add to her collection.

…

It was now 4:46 p.m. and they were both exhausted. Garcia began to argue with herself about wearing heels around the mall of all places, and Reid’s legs, too, were getting tired. They decided to eat dinner in the food court since neither of them were ready to end the fun just yet.

“These tacos taste funny,” Spencer said, and Penelope shrugged. “Mine tastes fine. Did I order the wrong one? I’m so sorry if I did.”

Spencer smiled. “No, it’s fine. I just haven’t had tacos in a while.”

“That’s a sin. I have vegetarian tacos almost every saturday.”

They both laughed, the sound ringing all throughout the mall. The smiles on their faces were like those of little kids on a playground, and they were living for it.

“Fun fact, most experts state that the first taco was actually invented somewhere between 1,000 and 500 B.C. At the time, the taco was more of an edible spoon, however the first recorded reference to the word taco came about in the 19th century. The first mention of the word taco in the United States didn’t come around until 1905.”

“How do you know these things?”

“Lots of history books. Or this brochure,” Spencer giggled, handing to Penelope the small foldable. She rolled her eyes with a playful smirk. “You’re very funny.”

“Thanks, I try my best.”

“Why don’t you ever joke like this in the bureau?”

Reid shrugged. “I guess it’s because I know that there’s someone in danger out there, and I just can’t bring myself to laugh it off like everyone else.”

Garcia averted her gaze. “Huh. I never thought about it that way.”

“N-not that it’s bad to joke around on the job, I know it helps some people and I’m not putting you down for it, It’s just—different with me I think.”

“Oh, I get that. I do it for the same reason I decorate my desk, it helps me cope with all the horrible things we see on the daily.”

There was a moment of silence, until Spencer spoke again, “How did we end up talking about this?”

Penelope laughed, and suddenly everything was back to sunshine and rainbows. “You mentioned the history of a taco.”

...

Soon, it started to get late. Reid and Garcia had stopped by her place for a couple hours to watch a movie and finish off the wine that she bought out of impulse last friday. It was 7:56 p.m. when Garcia dropped Reid off at his apartment, and she gave him a friendly hug before saying goodbye.

“Oh, and, Spencer?”

“Hm?”

Garcia smiled. “You don’t have to pretend that you don’t like the outfit. I know that look when I see it, and I can tell that you’re secretly excited to wear it on Monday.”

Reid felt a light blush settle across his face. “Thanks, Penelope.”

“No problemo, genius boy.”

And with that, Spencer entered his apartment and sat his bag down beside the door. He flicked on the lights and plopped down on the couch, grabbing Crime Or Clarity by Fiona Dewitt off the coffee table. He flipped to page 698 and continued where he left off.

“Goodway would smile wide, wider than he has in a very long time. He would realize then that he doesn’t need this world, and this world doesn’t need him, as long as he has his good friend Mick. Mick, who cares for him, who enjoys his company, and who will go to the ends of the wretched world to be there for him.”

And that night, Spencer Reid also realized that. And he did indeed smile wider than he has in a long while.

[ruddcatha]

Chapter 2 of The Guardian has been posted, find it now at Ao3 and FFN

Kagome stirred, trying to rouse herself from her dreams and the golden eyes that seemed to see into her very soul.  The sound of her alarm barely broke through her daze, she had never felt so exhausted before.  She looked at the offending object, grumbling when she realized that it really was 7 a.m. already, and they had to leave for the site at 8:30.  She stumbled into the kitchenette of her dorm, muttering to Sango who laughed and handed her a cup of coffee, knowing Kagome was NOT a morning person.  Kagome shot her a glance, her chocolate eyes full of worship and thankfulness as she took her first sip of the life sustaining liquid.  Two and half cups of coffee and a piece of toast with orange marmalade later, she felt human enough to shower and prepare for the day.

Kagome caught Sango’s attention and nodded towards the bathroom.  “Go ahead, I’m already done in there…. Unlike SOME people I don’t need an injection of caffeine in the morning” was the teasing response. Kagome gave a joking growl, shaking her head at Sango as she entered the bathroom.  Sango was her best friend from High School, they had been in the same class. Sometimes Kagome wished she had followed Sango’s footsteps and gone straight into Grad School after graduating from university, but she had taken two years to travel to various shrines and museums, learning on her own about different cultures.  She had almost wiped out her savings traveling from Japan to Australia and China to broaden her own knowledge base before applying and joining the archeology program with Sango.  Sango was the sister Kagome never had, and Kagome would gladly trade her younger brother Souta to officially claim Sango as kin.  

Kagome sighed blissfully as the hot water from the shower cascaded over her body.  Her muscles were still sore from the previous day, and she knew it was important to get the knots worked out before going back.  She turned the temperature up even more as she relaxed, lathering, and rinsing her long hair.  She reluctantly turned off the shower, she had not realized that the bathroom had filled with steam.  She frowned and thought ‘I didn’t think the temperature was that hot.’ The bathroom had disappeared in the white haze, she was not able to make out any of the fixtures, it was as if she had entered a dream state, separated out from the rest of the world.  She bent down, trying to find anything to help her get her bearings, for some reason she was desperate to find her towel.  Even though she knew she was by herself, she felt exposed.  She tried to call out for Sango, but the mist around her seemed to absorb the sound. She closed her eyes in both pain and relief as her right hand connected soundly with a solid surface.  She quickly moved towards the surface, reaching out to trace the edges to identify the counter and catch her bearings.  As she moved closer, she began to see her outline in the mirror, distorted through the haze.  She stopped dead, feeling as if all the blood in her body had turned to ice as she looked at her reflection… and the glowing red eyes that seemed to be behind her.  Keeping her hand on the counter, afraid that if she let go, she would be lost in the mist, she quickly looked to see who… or what… was there.

“HEY KAGOME” Sango yanked open the bathroom door “we have to get going or we’ll be late.  What’s keeping you?”  Kagome’s vision instantly cleared, the mist vanishing, the red eyes no more than a figment of her imagination.  “hey you ok?” Sango asked, seeing her friend’s death grip on the counter. Kagome shook her head, trying to ease the fear and tension “yea San, just lost track of time.  Give me a minute and I’ll be ready.”  She dashed to her bedroom, the tension in her easing as she covered herself with a pair of cargo pants and a black tank top. Remembering the chill the day before, and still feeling chills from earlier, she grabbed an old army jacket that she had found in a thrift store.  As she left the bedroom, she grabbed a stack of papers off her printer to bring with her.  Sango raised an eyebrow at the ensemble, Kagome just shrugged, lifted the corner of her mouth “the pockets will come in handy.”  Sango laughed, agreeing with her, heading towards the door of their apartment.  As they made their way to the parking lot, Sango tossed Kagome a bag with two slices of bacon and a sausage link “toast is not enough for today, who knows when Totosai will let us break for lunch.”  Kagome gratefully ate the offering, climbing into the back of the first jeep with Sango, Jaken had already claimed shotgun with Totosai driving.

As they drove to the shrine, Kagome began to review the limited information she had been able to pull from google and obscure legend sites, looking to learn more about the Inu Yokai.  She tuned out the conversation around her as she scoured the pages, frustrated with the limited information she had available.  She wanted actual useful information, damnit, but none of the information she had found seemed in any way credible or explained the statues in the shrine.  She allowed herself to listen to the conversation around her, Sango teasing Jaken over his fascination with frogs and toads.  “I will have you know, there is a very big dist….” Jaken said, about to go into a lecture when Sango leaned over and smacked his forehead “WE KNOW WE KNOW; YOU HAVE TOLD US A THOUSAND TIMES!” Kagome and Dr. Totosai laughed, used to the banter from classes.  Kagome felt the tension from the morning easing with the familiar routine with her friends and classmates.  A sense of calm came over her as they drew closer to the shrine, a smile teasing her lips as the last vestiges of fear faded from her memory, forgotten in her excitement.

The two jeeps made their way carefully through the forest, the modern world disappearing around the team. Soon the two flags that marked the entrance to the underground shrine were visible, and Totosai brought his vehicle to a halt.  The air around the shrine smelled cleaner somehow as Kagome took in a deep breath, the smells of the forest barely detectable.  Sango and Kagome collected their gear from the back of their vehicle before walking to the entrance, waiting to receive their locations for the day.  “Alright” Dr. Totosai exclaimed, looking over his notes “Jaken and Hojo, I want you two in the first room on the left, you made good progress there in identifying the markings and offerings that were found.  Sango, I would like you and Akitoki to take the second room on the right. That room has not been touched yet, and I want you to begin your survey, marking off any artifacts you find and noting them in the logs before you begin recovery.  Kagome, you will be with me again in the main room, I want to see if we can continue to translate the text we found.” Totosai looked at his watch “it is now 9:00, let’s reconvene at 12:30 for lunch and to discuss the afternoons assignments.”  He looked around at his five assistants and saw everyone nod before turning on their lanterns and descending into the entrance.

As the sound of footsteps entering the hallway echoed, a pair of golden eyes snapped open, the owner’s attention drawn towards the stone doors that separated the intruders from his resting place.  In a blur of movement, the figure leapt off the ground, landing with ease in an alcove that had been carved into the upper walls of the room, hidden from view by clever carving, allowing a perfect vantage point.  The light from the lanterns did not reach the alcove, but the individual did not need any additional light to view the two figures as they entered the room. A young man moved silently, hidden in shadows.  He turned his head, listening to the voices below, trying to make out any recognizable words, as the figure looked over the edge, curious but cautious. He knew that they were speaking Japanese from the few words he could make out, but it was a dialect that he was unfamiliar with, and while words seemed familiar, they were also strange, as if the language had changed.  He saw them approach the tallest statue in the front of the room, his eyes narrowed, waiting for any sign of aggression.  He relaxed when the two seemed focused on the legend inscribed on the wall, growling in disgust at their attempts to pronounce the words.  

The man had no idea how long he had been sealed, or who these people were.  He knew his mission, but until he knew that they could be trusted, he would keep out of sight, trying to learn more about them and why they were there.  His eyes were drawn to the young woman below him, and he felt his breath catch as her face was caught in the light.  Despite the distance between them, he could see her features as clearly as if he had been standing next to her, the tilt of her nose, the shade of her eyes.  He was entranced by her, the light dancing off her reflection as she moved, concealing then revealing her features as if choreographed.  Her voice was soft, and he felt his ears move to try and catch more of the sounds.

“Professor over here!” Kagome exclaimed softly.  When Totosai looked around, she had moved to the back corner of the room.  As he made his way to her, she tilted her head, looking at the empty pedestal before her.  “This is the only open pedestal in this room” she whispered as Totosai came near “and look here.”  Totosai leaned down to the base of the pedestal, looking where Kagome pointed. None of the pedestals in the room held any characters or names, but this one was different.  At the base of the pedestal was a stylized carving of a dog, surrounded by a circle.  While a dog carving was not unusual in Japanese art, this carving was designed like the ancient depiction of a demon dog, with a lightning bolt marking on each side of its face.  Kagome tilted her head in curiosity, recognizing the markings.  She looked back to the singe statue in the front of the room then back to the pedestal, confirming to herself that they did, indeed, look almost identical.  She wondered it this was the demon form of the Inu no Taisho.  Looking around the room, it seemed strange that only one pedestal had the marking, while the others were plain.  Lost in her own thoughts and musings, she did not notice her professor going still, his right hand moving to rub his left forearm as he stared at the image.

Kagome reached out an arm to touch the symbol, yet a sound made her pause.  A low growl seemed to echo through the room, so faint she almost thought she was imagining it.  She turned, looking to see where it was coming from, but the sound faded as if it had never been.  She turned to Totosai, about to ask if he had heard it as well, but was interrupted “Kagome, it is 12:30, let’s go get lunch with the others, we can come back after.” She sighed then nodded, grabbing her lantern as she left the room to join Sango.  Totosai watched her leave, then moved to the center of the room, rolling back the long sleeve that covered his left arm. He held his arm up above his head and lifted his lantern with his right hand.  A mark on his arm began to glow silver in the light, the image of a demon dog surrounded by a circle.  He looked up towards the top of the walls, his soft voice echoing in the chamber.

 “Yōkoso hogo-sha, Welcome Guardian.”

A soft sound from behind him made Totosai turn around.  He watched as a figure of a man unfolded, his red kimono a striking contrast to long silver hair that flowed over his shoulders.  Two ears stood atop his head, flicking at the sound of footsteps retreating from the shrine.  His golden eyes stared straight into Totosai’s before turning to look at the mark. Totosai lowered his arms, tilting his head towards the figure in reverence.

 “Welcome back...Lord Inuysha.”

@heavenin--hell​, thank you again for the inspiration!

[mcleaha]

hello lovelies ! i’m bøffy , i’m 20 years old , prefer she/her pronouns , and currently reside in the pst timezone ! uhh . . . i am posting this intro at nearly 5 AM my time , and i would be almost willing to bet it’s littered with errors and it’s . . . probably a bit all – over – the – place since this is very much a new muse ! however , with that being said , if you give this a like , i will definitely contact you via tumblr ims or d!scord ( 𝓲𝓷𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓪 / 𝓮𝔁𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓪#1384 ) to plot !

[  jasmine brown  . 21  .  cis female .  she/her  ] just saw MALEAH AMICK dragging their suitcase up the steps to CABIN 1B  .  good luck living with HER  ,  i hear that that they’re INDECISIVE  ,  FORGETFUL ,  SOCIABLE  & CREATIVE  .  Apparently they’re the ATTACKING MIDFIELDER .  let’s hope the upcoming season doesn’t affect their JUNIOR year of ART EDUCATION .

STATS:

name: maleah amick .

nickname(s): leah .

age: twenty one .

gender identity: cis female .

pronouns: she/her .

sexual orientation: bisexual / biromantic .

birthday: 26 february 1999 .

zodiac sign: pisces .

myer-briggs: esfj .

pinterest: coming soon !

HISTORY:

               born on the 26th of february 1999 in orlando , florida , maleah was the youngest of the three amick siblings . her mother worked as a prestigious board – certified pediatric surgeon at a local children’s hospital , and her father worked as a high school mathematics teacher and volunteered as the school’s unpaid soccer coach , a move that saved the program from ending due to budget cuts ( he claims he was roped into the position as a first – year teacher with no seniority , but while he’s reluctant to admit it , he eventually grew a passion for the sport he had previously known little about ) .

               with her mother’s long shifts and emergency work – related calls , she ultimately became closer to her father and two older brothers while growing up . most knew her father as a man who towered over them at 6’7” , ordering his team to run laps or practice drills ; however , maleah knew him as the man who would crawl around the living room floor playing barbies with her or would prepare fruit and herbal teas as she twirled around dressed as a princess , declaring it time for a royal tea party . just as easily , she could be found exploring the great outdoors or playing whatever sport was currently in season alongside her brothers .

               she practically followed in her brothers’ footsteps . as they approached high school , each brother chose one sport to specialize in , hoping to secure a position on a college team and eventually on a professional team . maleah did not have professional athletic goals , but although she had immaculate grades with limited effort put towards academics , she knew extra – curricular activities were important for college applications . thus , when it was maleah’s turn to choose which sport to pursue , rather than having to weigh the pros and cons and make her own decision ( or perhaps , fearing that she would make the wrong decision ) , she simply chose the sport that her brothers had previously chosen : soccer .

               her high school coach knew the perfect position for maleah . years of informal practice with her brothers in the backyard had enhanced her skills . she had learned how to evade skilled high school defenses by pretending as if she was heading in one direction before bolting in the other .  soccer was one of the few areas in life in which she possessed enough knowledge to make quick and effective decisions ; she could read the field and immediately determine the best course of action : dribble , pass , or shoot . ultimately , she possessed the vision and the creativity necessary to secure playmaking and goal-scoring opportunities for her team .

               with a line of college scholarships , both academic and athletic , waiting for the attacking midfielder’s choice ( unfortunately , none from either of the schools her brothers played for ) , the time came for maleah to make a decision . as deadlines for summer practices , class registration , and tuition payments crept closer , she finally determined a means of deciding . she numbered her offer letters , 1 through 13 , and allowed a random number generator to make the decision for her . thus , mere chance ( or perhaps fate ) led maleah to hollis university .

               her first semester at hollis was . . . rough , to put it lightly . while most freshman shed a few tears as they watched their parents’ car drive off into the distance , homesickness lingered in maleah’s life . coasting through high school with limited effort had done her zero favors ; with no effective study skills , her grades dropped dramatically . between soccer and trying to salvage her grade point average , a social life was virtually out of question . ultimately , she found herself on academic probation , unable to play soccer , for her second semester of freshman year at hollis .

               luckily , she was able to develop effective study habits , and even discovered along the way that maybe pre – med was not the best major for her . when asked what she wanted to do , maleah gave an entire list of generic answers – “i want to help people” and “i want to make a difference” came up quite often , but nothing specific enough to point her in the right direction . thus , she changed her major almost every semester , desperately seeking for the right fit . in the meantime , though it took several letters petitioning her temporary removal from the team , she was able to resume playing soccer during her sophomore year .

               as junior year approached , maleah was almost certain that she was back in her coach’s good graces – no longer viewed with a sense of skepticism . she had proven herself capable , finding her name on the dean’s list nearly every semester and assisting her team in numerous wins throughout the soccer season . however , with hollis’ soccer teams’ restructuring , maleah can’t help but question if her coach views her as a valued athlete or a liability .

PERSONALITY:

               two words : social butterfly . almost to a fault . even if someone has expressed quite literally zero interest in talking to her / getting to know her , she will still make an attempt . kind of a . . . people – pleaser , in a sense , she just wants to be well – liked ?

               avoids ! conflict ! at ! all ! costs ! generally just . . . tries to avoid people or situations that upset her . not very prone to like . . . yelling or crying , but those close to her can definitely sense a change in her demeanor when she’s upset ? just . . . a lot more tense , probably lots of eye – rolling and just . . . subtle , quiet signs that she is over whatever the problem is .

               kinda . . . chill , mellow , easygoing ? she very much lives in the moment , and tries not to stress too much about the future . always down for a drink , a party , whatever – genuinely just around for some fun and some friends !!!

               the kind of person who genuinely gets excited over like those fun facts and jokes that are on popsicle sticks and whatnot – absolutely must share the information with everyone within earshot . honestly , those jokes are very . . . on point with her own personal sense of humor jflakdsj .

HEADCANONS:

               she suffers from a terrible case of youngest child syndrome . ultimately , without guidance , she’s terribly irresponsible . she’s always having to run extra laps because she sets her alarm too late to make it to morning practices on time . she’s always receiving overdraft fees for spending more money than is available in her checking account . forgets everything – from homework assignments to names to grabbing her keys before locking the door on her way out . just . . . imagine a child asking for an adult’s help and her looking around until she comes to the realization that “ oh , shit , i am an adult ” .

               she’s practically always doodling – in the corners of notebooks , on napkins while eating lunch , on her clothing , on her own skin . she loves making art , particularly drawing or painting portraits or nature . ( ultimately , she only decided to incorporate this into her choice of major after hollis threatened to not allow any further changes to her major ) .

               she has a . . . unique sense of style . she has a passion for thrifting and upcycling . practically lives in hoodies and t – shirts that she has purchased from secondhand stores and cropped herself . always adding cool iron-on patches to her clothing . she should be listed as your emergency contact if you’re prone to ripping your clothing because she can definitely fix it .

               she probably thinks she’s good at trash-talking on the field , but she actually sounds like a second grader ( and that’s being kind ) . if you looked at her browser history , there’s probably at least one record of her actually googling “ best soccer trash talk ” .

CONNECTIONS:

friends !! friends she’s met through courses throughout her adventures of attempting every major possible , mayhaps soccer friendships that continue off the field , mayhaps that complicated emerging new friendship state for some who are new to hollis ! unlikely friends ! best friends !!! quite literally those unbreakable ride – or – die friendships !

muses !! i feel like every artist needs that little dose of inspiration , even if it’s simply the inspiration of a work – in – progress portrait throughout the duration of camp ! complaints of “ stop moving ! ” and her stopping every ten minutes to ask what they think and probably at some point , her flinging a brush dripping of paint in their direction (if things didn’t end in an all – out paint fight djlfakds ) .

enemies !! honestly i’m sure there is ?? so much ?? potential for this , bt . . . mayhaps someone’s just . . . fed up w her irresponsibility ? thinks she doesn’t take her soccer position seriously ? maybe someone doesn’t think she takes anything seriously ( they wouldn’t be . . . wrong tbh ) . maybe someone from cali takes that “ california vs florida ” feud a little too seriously jflskdja . idk there’s always bound to be personality clashes !

exes !! relationships that ended badly , so she actively tries to avoid them and who even knows what happens when she’s forced to acknowledge their existence at some point at this camp !!! maybe relationships that ended on mutual terms so they’re still p chill with each other ?? maybe ended relationships that never quite got closure so there’s still unresolved feelings !!

hook-ups !! they are . . . college students . they are . . . college students stuck at a camp all summer . idk i feel like this one is pretty self – explanatory jflakds .

honestly i am tired & want to sleep , bt genuinely i am up for & open to anything ! good influences , bad influences , unrequited crushes , requited crushes , idk the world is y(our) oyster !! these are . . . rlly just some ideas to get the whole process started bc i am actually terrible at . . . thinking of plot ideas on the spot . always open to jst . . . doing a thread and seeing how things naturally flow too !