#50% of it was done on my phone lmao

[veveisveryuncool]

YO REMEMBER THAT TIME KIRBY HAD A MINI BREAKDOWN BECAUSE OF VOID IN THE STAR ALLIES LIGHT NOVEL????

based off this excerpt from the star allies light novel:

"Ki... Ki... Kirby...!?" Waddle Dee screamed, seeing the similarities in the sphere and Kirby.

it seems so. the face that appeared on the surface of the sphere looked just like kirby's face. the kirby-like face laughed more and more with glee at the four exhausted people.

"It... it's different from me...!" Kirby shouted in a craze. "That's not me! I'm not this color! I don't look like this, I don't have those weird stripes...!"

"Calm down, Kirby." Meta Knight, alertly glanced at the marble-like sphere and spoke. "Of course this isn't you. This is the true identity of Void Termina."

[hellsquills]

Disclaimer: I know about the duffle bag Filbrick threw at him, but you can ignore that if you want

My thoughts below the cut! (this turned into a whole ass fic lmao)

My personal headcanon is that Filbrick is as much of a coward as he is of an asshole. Therefore, he wouldn't have kicked Stan when he did in canon. Probably not for a while after that.

However, he does try to send him to military school. He keeps talking about how this kid needs to learn discipline and respect, and if he's not gonna bring money to the house, then he should at least bring some honor to his family.

Stan obviously does NOT want to go. Not only because it's a pointless war ("what've the vietnamese done to us anyways?") but because he remembers his mother's face when Shermie got drafted and he will NOT make her go through that hell again. Also, he doesn't wanna die!!!! Hello?????

He talks it out over the phone with Ford, who's obviously just as against it as he is. He tells Stan that, if he gets into a PhD program, he could skip military. Stan laughs in his face. It'd be easier to jump off the plane without a parachute.

And so, he comes up with a plan. When he goes to take his physical, he tries his best to botch it. If he is bad enough, if it looks like he can't do it, maybe he won't have to. Unfortunately, the recruiters are far too used to this by now, and they don't buy it. Stan goes home with a recruitment letter hidden in his jacket.

Everything goes downhill after that. He runs away from home, changes his name several times, does some crime here and there... The military is after him, and it doesn't take rejection kindly.

Stan stays out of contact with his family for a few years. He can't risk getting them involved in this mess. They don't deserve it. So he just leaves, without saying a word, in the middle of the night. No phone calls, no notes, nothing. Not even he knows where he's going. But if it just looks like he abandoned them, maybe they'll hate him. That will make them sound more believable with the police. They aren't covering for him, because they genuinely have no idea where he is. It's the best way to keep them safe.

In that time, Ford doesn't stop looking for him. He finds him every once in a while, but only his phone number, and he knows that could give away his brother's location and get the family in trouble. So, against his deepest instincts, he doesn't call.

One, three, five, seven years pass. Stan has been around almost all the country, and is genuinely considering leaving it. Maybe going to Mexico, or Colombia. Those sound nice. Maybe they'll be nicer to him.

He's passing his time and thinking about this in a small town restaurant in wherever he's in (somewhere he's not banned from, yet), when a family enters. He doesn't make eye contact, but he can't help but stare at them: a man and a woman, probably in their 50s, with 7 kids; one must be older than him, the second one around his age, the third one a little younger, the fourth one a teenager, and the last three between 10 and 15, no more. Except for the last three, they're all taller than him, even the mother, and they have various degrees of blond hair. Their clothes (overalls and plastic boots) suggest they must work in one of the farms he's seen around the state. They don't wear any accessories, except for the glasses that the father and four of the kids have. They're talking loudly and laughing. They look exhausted from a morning of hard work. They seem happy. They... look nothing like his family, and yet, he can't help but think about it.

He can't help the sob that comes to his throat. It's loud and messy from trying to suppress it, which obviously makes it worse. He covers his mouth immediately, and at that point he notices the tears that have run down his cheeks. "Great", he thinks, "that will make it easier to hide, for sure".

He doesn't move. He wants to escape, but that will draw even more attention to him, and he hasn't even paid for the food yet (normally he'd leave without paying, but the old waitress was kind enough to give him some extra food when she saw how little he ordered). He settles for not moving, lowering his head and covering his face, hoping that no one heard (unlikely) or cared (very likely).

"Ya'lright, son?"

The voice startles him. I wasn't very deep, but it was close enough to send his body into immediate danger mode. He looks up at the man towering over him, who's standing in front of him at a prudential distance.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, no worries."

He hates how broken his voice sounds. He's spent more than enough time sweet-talking his way out of trouble, he should be better at this by now. The man looks about as convinced by it as he is himself.

" 'lright then. Can I help ya?"

Damn villagers and their welcoming demeanor. If he wasn't a wanted man, he would appreciate it. But right now, it couldn't be worse timing.

"Come get ya food, kids!" The waitress' yell yanks him out of his thoughts.

"No", he blurts out, and he turns to the man. Least he can do is show him some respect and look him in the eyes. "I'm fine, thank you."

The man smiles lightly and nods. "Okay. Welcome to the town."

Stan watches as the man goes back to his table. He wishes he had been more polite, the guy was just worrying about him, but he can't afford it. They already know his face, he can't risk anyone else recognizing him-

"Sweet Mother of God almighty."

Stan turns to his right. One of the kids, the one about his age, is looking at him like he just grew a second head. He's frozen in place, his eyes wide as plates behind thick glasses. He doesn't say a word, and it's getting increasingly unnerving. Was the bruising on his face still visible? Maybe it's more apparent in broad daylight than in the shitty light that last motel had in the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, I- Can I ask your name?"

The fuck?

"No", answers Stan. Considering how nice his dad was, this guy is pretty rude.

"Son, leave him alone." The mother seems to have manners too, good to know.

The guy does pretty much the opposite. He comes closer to him, until he's right in his path, blocking his exit. That can't be good. Stan feels trapped.

"Are you Stanley Pines?"

Well, that's about it.

Stan tries his best to stay still. This guy doesn't look like a cop, not even an undercover one. But he knows his real name, so maybe someone in his family or friends works in the police; or worse, in the military.

"Listen man, I don't know who you're talking about, but that isn't my name. See?" He reaches for his wallet. He pulls out an ID, with a very clear Jackson Cage on it. He makes a mental note to change it soon, just in case his hunch is right and this guy has connections. "Now, if you excuse me, I'd like to pay for my food and leave. Move."

Stan is already on his feet, but the guy hasn't moved. Stan looks him up and down, trying to appear threatening despite his face probably still being a little red from before. He also gauges how feasible it'd be to escape if things turned bad; the dude is taller than him, sure, but he's also as thin as a toothpick, and by the anxious look on his face, he doesn't seem eager for a fight. The real problem would be evading the restaurant's staff and the other costumers, which include eight carbon copies of the guy in front of him. Probably better to try to de-escalate the situation.

"I- I can't let you leave. Please. I know who you are."

This man is making it really difficult to believe he's not a cop.

"No, you don't. I'm new in town. Move."

"Listen, I-"

"Move out of my way."

"I know your brother."

The words are like a bullet between his eyebrows.

"You look just like him-"

Against his better judgement, he quickly grabs he guy and pins him to the wood in between the booth benches, arm to his throat. If he knows Ford, he knows too much. God he just wanted to have lunch.

The commotion is immediate. He doesn't break eye contact with the guy who's grabbing his arm, whose strength is frankly surprising. He can hear, however, the screams from the dad and the siblings, as well as a couple of gasps from the other costumers. This is not going to go well, but fuck that. He's escaped worse.

"Stop!", the guy shouts as he keeps Stan's forearm from blocking his airway. "Don't hurt him! Don't get closer!"

It takes Stan a second to process what he said. The first part, sure, who wouldn't shout 'stop' when you're being attacked? But the second half doesn't make sense. Is he protecting him? The attacker?

Whatever it is, it works. The family stops in their tracks, still very ready to attack if needed. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the three younger kids moving closer to their mother. For a split second, he feels a pang of remorse for the scene he just caused.

"Hang up the phone, Clarisse, it's okay. Please."

Stan looks in the direction the guy was talking to. Right behind him, the waitress reluctantly puts the phone down.

He looks back at the guy. He looks a little shaken up, probably from the impact his back (and his head?) made with the wooden plank, but he doesn't look scared. He almost looks... sympathetic? Stan is confused as hell.

"I know who you are", the guy whispers, low enough for Stan to hear alone. "You're Stanley Pines, and you have a brother named Stanford. I know him, okay? He's my friend. I met him a few years ago in a quantum physics congress and we've been talking ever since. He told me about his family in New Jersey, and about you. About how he hasn't seen you in years, and how he was trying to find you, to no avail."

Stan is gradually loosening his grip on the guy's neck, who takes a deep breath. He should know better, but- shit, hearing that Ford was looking for him was not what he expected. Even if he doesn't know yet if this guy is lying out of his ass, it's enough to make him doubt.

"I know you were called to Vietnam. He told me. I spent a week with him in his place when he found out, he was unconsollable. When you ran away, he called me. He knew what it meant for you and he thought he'd never see you again, whether you got caught or not. All because of that stupid war." Stan is now trembling a little, he knows it. This guy must know it too, with how close they are. If he stays here any longer he'll break down, but he can't move. Anything to hear his brother's name a little longer. "I know what it's like. Three of my cousins were drafted last year, and I know at least one of them won't be coming back home. Please... let me help you."

Stan meets his eyes. They're green and brown-ish, not unlike the immense fields he's seen in his last journey, the one that led him to this town. With the years, he's learned not to trust beautiful eyes, because they are better at hiding. These ones, however, seem serene and honest, just like his words, and he can't help but believing them. This guy, whoever the fuck he is, knows just about enough.

Stan lowers his right arm. The guy still has his hand on it, but this time is much less defensive and much more comforting. He doesn't complain.

"My name's Fiddleford McGucket, and I'm gonna help you find your brother."

______________________________

Essentially, after this Fidds calls Ford as if nothing happened (per Stan's request, since he's still paranoid about the police tracking his calls) and asks him to come to Tennessee. Ford argues that he's very busy and all, but Fidds convinces him in the end.

Obviously the twins have a dual breakdown and cry their heart out. In this AU they're much less emotionally constipated lol

Ford tells Stan that he's gonna build a house in a small town in Oregon as a part of his research, and asks him to move in with him once it's finished. Stan, of course, accepts.

In the meantime, Stan stays in the McGucket farm and helps them out as a way of laying low. He has a great relationship with his family, and they're very proud of him for what he did (i believe that the McGuckets are hippies at heart, and they're VERY anti-war, especially when it already took three of them)

I don't know how much of the canon storyline would this AU follow, but it's pretty much your average Mystery Trio AU with some different backstory

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the king of sex

pairing: javi x reader

cws/tags: p in v, m! receiving oral, unprotected sex, handcuffs, coworkers, sex as stress relief, pwp, not beta read

summary: almost no plot, literally javi is just grouchy so reader offers him sex (but handcuffs him) ... in the office... they really just kinda give up on the case at the end lmao

a/n: i like to imagine the voiceover of steve going "in case you were wondering, this is the asshole..." at the beginning of this fic

wc: 3k

You're at your wits end with Javier Peña. He's known to be (at the very least) kind of a dick. You're fairly sure it's unintentional, just his natural demeanor, but he's also made no efforts to remedy his behavior. He's an asshole because he's grumpy and he's grumpy because he's stressed. And he becomes more stressed and more grumpy and more of an asshole when you provoke him. You have the practiced self-restraint to bite back your snide remarks until he's out of earshot.

It hits you one day when he's particularly irritated as there's a huge roadblock in the case against Escobar that he can't seem to charm his way past - he's tried a wad of cash, a gun to the head, and of course, sex. He's grumbling about whatever-the-fuck when he slams his hands down on his desk with a loud, "Goddamnit!" He's lucky he works with you and not someone over 50 who would've certainly had a heart attack with how startling it was.

You could say 'no harm, no foul', but enough is enough. Javier Peña is inching his way towards 40 and needs to learn a thing or two about civil and professional behavior.

"Look, I get that you're upset right now, but it's not necessary or appropriate-"

"I don't need a lecture from you," he snaps.

"I wasn't lecturing you. I was being nice."

You were being nice, but your tone quickly takes on the bitterness that's been building inside you for weeks.

"If you were nice, you would let it go." His words are slightly muffled by the cigarette he holds between his lips. 

"Are you even hearing yourself? I was being sympathetic and diplomatic. I could've said way worse things to you."

"Go ahead. Maybe I'd appreciate your honesty."

The smoke blown in your direction when he fully turns to face you is the final straw. 

"Okay," you say, taking the deep breath you need to form the next string of words that leave your mouth. "Would you shut the fuck up for one fucking second?! I don't know if all the whores you fuck have been telling you that your voice is sexy but you should know that I'm tired of fucking hearing it."

"Wow, chica. You've got a mouth on you. Could be of better use but-"

"No," you cut him off with an accusatory finger pointed in his direction. "I'm not just going to sit here and twirl my hair and giggle at your sexual harrassment. Sorry if that's what you're used to."

"I don't think it's harassment since you didn't even wait to hear the full sentence. You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I don't care. You should get used to women not stroking your ego because someday soon your good looks will be gone and you'll have nothing but your shitty personality."

"So you think I'm good-looking?"

"That's what you took from that statement? It doesn't matter if you're good-looking because everything else about you is terrible."

"What do you want me to do? Cry? Grovel? Because I don't care that much about your opinion, and I'm done having this conversation."

You don't speak for the rest of the day, but you're in the office well-past daytime. You're on a time crunch, so you cooperate in silence so as not to get your asses handed to you by the ambassador or your heads put on a stick by the cartel. Sometime after everyone else has gone home - which makes Javi particularly pissed - he gets a phone call. You do not know what the person on the other line is saying, and Javi only speaks in Spanish, and says very few words before he slams the handset down so hard the phone falls off his desk.

He looks like he's about to have a psychotic break when he notices that the phone is broken.

"You need to calm down."

"I'm trying to calm down. I'm always trying to calm down."

"Maybe you need a Valium prescription or something because it's not working."

"Are you not stressed? Do you not care about catching Escobar?"

"Of course I am, and of course I do, but I know how to take care of my stress."

"Fine. Then, tell me how you do it."

"First off, you need to take a break, step away from your work. Stand up, take a walk, sit down somewhere else where you can't look through those folders anymore."

He stands up, maintaining a level of eye-contact that says he's determined to disprove your methods.

You motion for him to sit in a different chair and he does with the same permanent scowl plastered across his face.

"Now what? What else do you suggest?"

"I usually put on a movie or take a hot bath or…" You stop yourself before saying it.

"We don't have a VCR in here or a bathtub, so tell me what the third option is before I lose my mind."

"You know…" You make a motion that's supposed to indicate masturbation.

"You're saying I should jerk off? Right now? In this office?"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you've never done it before."

"Not while you're here."

"Do you care if I'm here?"

"You would care. You just asked me to stop making sexual remarks about you earlier."

"Because your remarks were insulting and uncalled for and you were using them to deflect from the problem at hand."

"I don't get it. Are you saying you want to watch me jerk off?"

Truth be told, you wouldn't mind watching him get off. It’s not like you haven’t thought of it before. Seeing him finally vulnerable, undressed. Hearing his breath hitch, the choked out moans he struggles to hold back. His eyes closed, head thrown back, the sweat beading on his forehead, his lips parted -

"If that's what you want. But, I can do you one better."

At this point, you're just satisfying your own fantasy. You're more selfish than Javi, but he doesn’t need to know that.

For the first time in weeks his lips curve into a smile. "Yeah? You want to?"

"If it'll make you calm down and you swear on your life that you will never tell anyone that we did this."

"Deal."

"It better be. Or I will hand your ass over to Escobar."

"You're gonna make me go soft if you talk about him."

You're hard? Already? you think but don't say. Instead, you take a not-so-subtle glance at the front of his jeans. 

"What? You offered me sexual favors. Of course I'm hard."

You approach him and he waits for you to slide into his lap and kiss him. It's sloppy, wet, tongue-tangled, teeth mashing together. You pull back nearly panting, and you begin to understand why women let him get away with things.

"I have one more condition."

"Lay it on me."

"I'm in charge."

"You've been in charge, cariño."

He hasn't called you that in at least a month - after you begged him to stop. You insisted he call you by your name because ‘this is a work environment’. And nicknames make you weak in the knees. But you can't tell him that being on a first name basis with him is almost worse. Every time he says your name it goes straight to that debauched part of your brain that you try to suppress.

You nod and stand up, and he says, mildly offended but mostly desperate, "Does 'in charge' mean you're leaving me high and dry?"

"No, I'm getting something." You walk to his desk. "Where are your handcuffs?"

You have handcuffs too, but there's something more enticing about restraining him with his own. 

"Top right hand drawer. Why? Which one of us is getting handcuffed?"

"Take a guess," you say walking back towards him with the cuffs in hand.

"It's me, isn't it?"

"You're so smart, Javi," you tease. Even though you’re joking, you swear you hear his breathing change. You rarely praise him because he rarely deserves it. Maybe you should do it more often, you think. 

"Take off your shirt first and put your hands behind your back."

He does as he's asked. Javi is suddenly more obedient when your tits are eye-level with him. "I can't believe I'm doing this. It better not be some sort of trap."

"It's not. I just think it'll be fun for both of us if I do this to you." The handcuffs click as you attach them to his wrists. It’s the only sound that fills the rare silence in the office. 

"Do you hear that?" you ask with a serene smile.

"No, what?"

"Nothing. It's quiet in here for the first time ever."

"Not for long if you're any good."

"I am very good, I'll have you know."

"Have me know."

You straddle his lap and run your hands along the smooth skin of his broad chest. You lock eyes with him, tilt your head slightly and part your lips like you're going to kiss him, but when he leans in, you pull back.

You stifle a laugh when he leans forward, trying to reach your lips. It’s his only option as his handcuffs prevent him from grabbing your cheeks and pulling you towards him. 

"That's fucked up," he says.

You're not cruel so you kiss him for real. Your tongue brushes against him and you arch your body towards him. You kiss him until you need to come up for air.

"You're not gonna pull back and leave me hanging this time, are you?"

"No, not unless you do something to deserve it."

"Like this?" he asks before biting your bottom lip gently.

"No, not like that," you whisper against his lips. You place featherlight kisses from his jaw to his collarbone, lips ghosting along his skin, teasing.

"You're making me more stressed, chica."

You hum, ignoring him, and then making your way up to the nape of his neck where you lightly suck and nip at his skin.

"Oh, fuck me," he groans.

"Be patient," you say softly as you place your hand on his hard cock, still covered by his jeans.

You palm him slowly, looking up into his eyes when you begin to unbuckle his belt. You wonder what kind of underwear he's wearing - is he a boxers type of guy? Briefs? Boxer-briefs? Every guess is incorrect, you find, as you unzip his jeans - he's gone commando.

"I knew you were a slut, Peña, but no underwear with jeans? That's bold."

"Easy access."

"Easy, that's for sure," you say, as you work together to get his pants down to his ankles. "And yet, very hard," you remark, taking his cock in your hand.

His hips twitch and you can tell he's trying not to fuck your fist, knowing you won't take kindly to it. You're in charge - that's the deal. You spit into your hand and watch as a bead of pre-cum forms at the tip of his dick. His breath hitches when you run your finger over it before you stroke him, increasing the speed of your hand gradually.

You dare to get on your knees and lap at the head, reveling in the way his head lolls back. Dying to get his eyes back on you, you take his cock as far as you can into your mouth - though you hadn't initially planned on sucking him off as he doesn't deserve it. His eyes fly open and he stares at you slack-jawed, his mouth slowly forming an 'o'. When he gets close, you stop, pull back, and stand up.

"Huh?" he asks in an uncharacteristically pathetic voice.

"You were enjoying yourself a little too much." You shrug.

"Yeah, I was enjoying myself. I was gonna cum soon." He pouts, lower lip jutting out and making him look boyish despite the mustache on his upper lip.

"I know."

"Are you not gonna let me cum? Is that what this is? A plan to torture me?"

"No, you'll get to cum eventually. This is an exercise in patience."

"I thought this was supposed to be stress-relief."

"Correct me if I'm wrong but it doesn't seem like you're thinking about work at all right now."

"I'm not."

"What are you thinking about?"

"What do you think?"

"I think, I want you to tell me." You sit down atop the desk across from the one he's sitting at and spread your legs. You watch his eyes as he figures out what you're doing.

"I'm thinking about what you'd look like without that skirt on. I'd rip it off you."

"I'm glad your hands are tied then," you say as you unzip it and let it fall to the floor. "Because it was expensive."

Javi doesn't say much about your black lace panties but his eyes are fixated on them. You begin to unbutton your top and his eyes follow your fingers as you slowly reveal your bra, and then your tits. This is the most he's paid attention to you in your entire time working here.

"God, I wish I could touch you," he says. "You're so fuckin' hot."

"I'm actually quite chilly," you say with a coy grin as you walk over to him and grab his shirt from the desk in front of him. You put it on, but don't button it up so your tits still peek through.

"It looks so much better on you."

"Thanks," you say with a genuine smile. "I expected it to smell like cigarettes but it smells nice."

He half-laughs. "What does it smell like?"

"You." You slide your panties to the side and begin to touch yourself nonchalantly.

"This is so unfair. You get to touch yourself, but I don't."

"I thought you would like watching me."

"I do, you have no idea how much I do."

You intended to tease him, but you find yourself going further, even slipping a finger inside yourself. When you add another, you moan, "Javi."

It's barely a tease anymore. His name slips out just as it does when you're alone in your bedroom with your hands in the same position. But now, you're watching Javi who’s watching you with his pink cheeks and leaking cock - all for you, because of you.

"Yeah? Feels good?"

"Uh-huh." You wish it was him, so much so that you get up from the desk and walk towards him. You sit in his lap, wearing nothing but his shirt, letting your skin touch his.

"You're so wet, cariño."

The way his voice rasps does something to you, grinding on him isn't enough. You need him inside you.

As you position yourself so that his tip is at your entrance, you ask, "promise you won't come inside me?"

"Promise. I'll let you know when I'm close."

You believe him because you have to, because you're going to fuck him anyway. You need him. So, you nod and sink down on his cock. You figured he'd be big - his tight jeans don't hide very much though you try not to stare, lest he catch you doing so, but you still whimper at the stretch.

"You're doing great, cariño."

You don't expect it to feel as good as it does, nor do you expect it to drain your stamina the way that it does. Your legs are shaking by the time you get close to the edge.

"You're struggling, querida," Javi says. "I can help, but you have to let me out of these."

"Yeah," you say, standing up to grab the key. He sighs at the loss of your wetness surrounding him.

You uncuff him and he grabs your hips gently, helping you back into the position you were in previously.

"I've got you," he says, and you trust that he does.

You let your head rest upon his shoulder, and when you moan, he can feel your breath on his skin - he can barely hear you over the sound of your skin meeting his over and over, the slick sounds of your arousal adding another layer to the pornographic chorus of your noises.

Your names are traded back and forth, both of your voices getting progressively needier. One of his hands slides under your - his - shirt to stroke the bare skin of your back as the other remains steady on your ass. You bite into his shoulder despite the fact that no one is in the office to hear you. You get a groan in response and you can tell his orgasm is approaching too.

"Gonna cum," he says. "Where do you want it?"

"Inside," you say because it's the truth.

It's like you've cast a spell on him or rewired his brain. He should not cum inside you but he does. His whole body jolts as euphoria washes over him.

Your walls clamp down around him and your fingernails dig into his flesh, and you've never been high but there's no way cocaine feels this good. If you could crush an orgasm up into a powder, you'd be rich.

When you come back to reality, you're faced with Javi's beautiful brown eyes and a smile.

"Thank you," he says. "I feel a lot better."

You're beginning to envision your happily ever after when you stand up and you hear Javi say, "Oh fuck."

"What?" You say, looking down and watching your mistake drip out of you.

"I think we just created another problem to be stressed about."

"I'm on the pill. We'll be fine. And, if you're stressed, we can always do it again."

"You're right. I think we need to give it another shot. You said baths are relaxing, right? We could try it in a bathtub, maybe even in the shower."

You shake your head. "Uh-huh," you say sarcastically. "And since movies are relaxing, we should do it in the theater."

"That's a great idea, actually."

"Yeah? You think risking an arrest would help your stress?"

"I don't know, baby. I guess we'll have to find out."

Maybe you have yet to catch the King of Cocaine, but tonight, you feel satisfied as you climb into bed with the King of Sex.

[copajay]

how to write a love song

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

masterlist

taro has been heavy on my mind for the last 24 hours and i’ve always wanted to write a fake dating fic so here we are

summary: you have been a solo idol under SM for years now. unfortunately, you’ve seen a decline in your popularity in the last year. sm’s newest boy group, riize, on the other hand, is blowing up in korea and overseas. in an attempt to generate buzz around your upcoming album, your company sets you up in a PR relationship with riize’s shotaro. (not proofread)

date: 04/07/24

scenario themes: fake dating, idol!au, lowkey grumpy x sunshine lmao

idol: osaki shotaro of riize

concept: fluff, angst-ish

warnings: swearing

word count: 5.3k

"fucking hell." you curse to yourself, alone in your private studio. you were looking at the sales for your last mini album. this was the lowest number you've seen since your debut. flopping onto a chair, you opened up youtube to check your streams, then spotify, then naver, and so on and so forth.

you were beginning to become obsessive, looking to numbers for validation. you put your phone down, sighing. looking up at the wall in front of you, you were greeted with your debut poster.

you were so young, so passionate. you didn't care about streams or sales, you just wanted to share your art with the world. feeling a bit ungrateful, you began to gaslight yourself into feeling better: it's not like the figures were that low, and many artists would kill to have half of what you're complaining about.

it didn't work. you felt even more like shit. somewhere along the way you fell in love with stardom. you became used to high-end brand endorsements, sold-out stadiums, and paparazzi everywhere you go. life has changed a lot for you in the last year.

you got so caught up in everything that you haven't been able to produce as much music. and if you're being honest, the only music you have put out hasn't exactly been your best work.

you initially stood out since you were an idol who didn't dance or put on flashy performances but instead wrote and composed captivating songs with meaningful lyrics. this attracted the attention of a nation, and later on, you developed a global fanbase. a fanbase that is currently fighting for their lives to defend your shitty mini-album.

somewhere along the way, you lost your spark. your lyrics which used to be about raw emotion and life experiences now seemed out of touch and cliche. your instrumentals had so much care poured into them, with most of them containing your own playing of the guitar, piano, drums, and more. now, they were created electronically for the most part by multiple big-shot producers.

you followed the formula for success, so why weren't you reaping the benefits?

your phone screen lit up, notifying you of an email sent by your manager:

RE: Staff Meeting

Y/N,

The numbers aren't looking too good. We need another drop, and soon. We’re having a meeting and you can show us what you came up with so far. We brought in the PR team and they're going to share some ideas with us. The meeting's at 6, don't be late.

you glanced over at the clock. it was 4:44 p.m., which means you still have an hour and 16 minutes to come up with something to show your team.

no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't come up with anything. it used to come so easy to you. your love songs in particular were always so easy to write, and guaranteed hits at that.

unfortunately for you, being in love is nearly impossible when you're a full-time idol. between hectic schedules and invasive fans, you can't find the time or place to catch feelings for someone.

before you knew it, it was 5:50 and all you had done was mope about how hard it is to make music. packing your belongings, you headed out of the studio and made your way to the SM company building.

once seated at the meeting, you were greeted by your manager and the PR professionals he invited. "so, y/n. we're looking forward to hearing about any progress you might have made for the album." your manager encouraged, smiling at you.

"i... don't have anything," you admitted. the room was dead silent and you were holding yourself back from cringing at your own words. "I was hoping we could maybe just look at a couple of demos?"

"y/n, that's what we did last time, and it clearly isn't appealing to the fans. they want your music. we need the finished album from you by next month." your manager stressed.

"i know, i know. i'm working on it." you muttered. clearing his throat, your manager looked to the PR team, "since there's no new music for us to listen to, i guess you guys can take it from here."

"right, thank you." an unnamed woman in glasses began, "we were thinking of creating a fabricated relationship between miss l/n and another idol here at SM. his group is having a comeback around the same time you are."

you were about to protest before she cut you off, "the relationship doesn't have to go on for long, just until you release new music. it'll generate buzz and people will be more likely to tune in if they think your songs are about him. just consider it." she pleaded.

"who is it?" you questioned, still apprehensive. "shotaro from riize. the group is still recovering after a member of theirs has gone on hiatus following a scandal free seunghan until it's backwards. the two of you are close in age and he's been an idol for a few years now so he's perfect." she persuaded. you saw your manager nod in agreement in the corner of your eye.

"isn't dating as an idol a scandal in itself?" you argued. "yes, but you would generate more good exposure than bad. fans online have been talking about how good of a couple you would make for a while now." your manager butted in.

great. so you're not only going to get death threats from delusional fans but also affirm crazed shippers' beliefs. as badly as you wanted out, you really did need more attention on you as you were preparing to come back. besides, any publicity is good publicity, right?

"fine." you agreed begrudgingly. "wonderful! shotaro has also agreed, we'll have another meeting tomorrow at 10 a.m. with the two of you to go over everything." the lady exclaimed, clasping her hands together excitedly.

smiling politely, you excused yourself and left the room. your manager rushed after you, stopping you from leaving the building. "y/n, listen. I know this is all probably really uncomfortable, but I think it'll be good for you." he insisted.

good for streams, maybe. "i'll be fine. it's only a month, right?" you smiled. "right." he affirmed, patting you on the back before walking in the opposite direction.

once he was out of sight your smile immediately dropped. you made your way out the doors of the building preparing yourself for the lonely commute home.

despite being surrounded by fans and paparazzi constantly, you felt pretty lonely most of your days. you rarely had time to see your friends and family, and you didn't have any group members to share the burden of loneliness with.

making your way to the parking lot, you bumped into an energetic figure, causing your keys to drop. the two of you bent down at the same time and your heads collided. stepping back, you looked up at the stranger that had just made your already shit day even shittier.

he picked up your keys first before standing straight and looking back at you. laughing, he handed them over to you, apologizing for the inconvenience.

to your surprise, it was shotaro. the man you had to act like you were in love starting tomorrow. he had incredibly soft features and the brownest, biggest eyes that you could get lost in forever.

"hey, I recognize you!" he chirped, "I was told you would be at the meeting tomorrow for..." he trailed off, the air between you suddenly awkward.

"yeah." you added dryly. "well it was nice meeting you." you pushed past him. "nice meeting you as well!" he called out, enthusiastically waving.

he's so sweet it's sickening.

maybe you're being a bit of a bitch, but your life feels like it's falling apart. stepping into your car, you took a moment to breathe before starting it and heading home.

the next morning, you wanted nothing more than to rot in bed, but your annoyingly loud alarm reminded you of your impending meeting with shotaro. you didn't see the harm in getting a few more minutes of beauty sleep so you hit the snooze button and drifted back off.

unfortunately, those few minutes turned into an hour, and the next thing you know, you had twenty minutes until your meeting. panicking, you rush to wash your face and get dressed, sprinting down the stairs of your apartment.

once you're seated in the car, you're greeted with a blaring sign: empty tank. just your luck. you have under 10 minutes to get to the SM building and it's a twenty-minute walk from your place.

you checked the bus schedules frantically but none of them seemed to come in time. mentally cursing yourself, you began running in the direction of the company building.

there was no way you were going to make it in time. but this was better than nothing. after about 5 minutes of sprinting like your life depended on it, you saw a familiar face in a car waiting at a stoplight: shotaro.

you don't know how you managed to bump into him yet again but you couldn't really afford to care at this moment. knocking on the window lightly, you saw him look at you shocked.

he rolled down his window, "are you okay?" he asked, slightly freaked out. "i'm so sorry i promise i'll explain but could you please let me in because the light is about to turn green." you begged.

he stared at you shocked for a few seconds before you practically yelled at him to let you in. unlocking the doors, he watched you jump in. he definitely thought you were crazy.

and you couldn't blame him either. looking in the window, you saw your reflection for the first time since you left home: sweat beading on your forehead from running and your hair frizzy and half out of your bun.

while putting together your appearance as best as you could, he coughed loudly, "you said you were going to explain...?" he cautioned.

"right. I slept through my alarm, my car ran out of gas, and I was planning on booking it for the interview since there were no buses available either. oh, and sorry again for scaring you." you rattled on.

you expected him to react like most people if put in this situation: slightly annoyed but accepting of the situation.

he simply laughed. "well then I'm glad you ran into me!" he cheered with a genuine smile on his face. what the hell was his problem?

you knew idols would put on cheery, cute personas for the camera, but you never met someone so honestly enthusiastic. you would be lying if you said it wasn't refreshing, but it felt too good to be true.

you arrived at the building within a matter of minutes. "thank you, once again." you turned to shotaro once the two of you reached the elevator. "no worries." he smiled.

you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t extremely handsome, and his kind demeanor made him even more attractive.

you caught yourself staring at him intensely, suddenly feeling nervous in the cramped elevator alone with him.

he kept trying to make conversation but you were completely zoned out, only being able to focus on how good he looked in his oversized black sweater.

your eyes kept nervously flitting between him and the elevator door, and you were beginning to sweat. has he always been this hot?

after what felt like an eternity, the elevator door opened and you practically sprinted out, making a beeline for the conference room. never have you been more relieved to see a room full of PR professionals.

you and shotaro sat down a safe distance away from each other. you’re not sure what overcame you in the elevator.

you haven’t had any romance in your life for so long that every little thing gets you flustered, including being alone in a small space with a good looking man.

“thank you both for coming today.” the same woman from yesterday greeted. “if you don’t mind, we’d like to walk you through the month-long plan of your ‘relationship’” she shared, using quotation marks.

“firstly, we want the two of you to be spotted out together. going to cafe’s, the movies, even just for a walk. hold hands, hug, kiss if you feel like it.” you couldn’t help but look at shotaro for the last bit and you were shocked to see he was already looking at you.

“we’ll call on paparazzi and companies like dispatch to ‘catch you in the act’ and post your photos online for people to catch on.” she continued, nodding at a man next to her.

“then we’re going to make an official announcement on behalf of the company that you two are officially dating. you know, ‘the pair are getting to know each other and we would appreciate your privacy bla bla bla’” the man said, far less professionally.

“right. you two will continue your outings for another week or so after and then you come back, and we will make a statement on behalf of the company that you have broken up to focus on your schedules. how does that sound?” the lady wrapped up.

“sounds good to me.” shotaro replied coolly. “yeah, um, sounds good.” you sputtered, a bit overwhelmed.

suddenly, you heard a loud ping on the woman’s phone. she looked down and looked up again between you and shotaro, “well, it looks like you two have already set the plan into motion.” she chuckled.

looking closer at her phone, you saw an online article showing pictures from just an hour ago of you in shotaro’s car titled “y/n and shotaro: potential lovebirds?”

what the hell? how did those photos get out so fast… and when were they even taken?

although you were growing increasingly anxious about your lack of privacy, you had to admit the PR team knew what they were talking about, people were going insane over the article.

“since you’ve already been spotted together today, you might as well go on a ‘date’ later in the afternoon to seal the deal.” an older man opposite you added in air quotes.

you and shotaro simply nodded in agreement and before you knew it, the meeting was coming to a close.

grabbing your bag, you prepared to speed-walk out of the room and avoid shotaro until your inevitable ‘date’ but he seemed to have other plans.

“wait up, y/n!” he hollered, catching up to you. “i know we’re kind of being forced to hang out, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other’s company!” he began, “what’s your favorite coffee shop? mine’s-”

“look i appreciate you trying to make light of the situation, but this is just a marketing strategy, nothing more and nothing less.” you cut him off, “let’s just go to the bakery across the street, make lovey dovey eyes at each other, and go our separate ways, yeah?”

his smile faded a bit which made you feel guilty, but he recovered quickly and nodded, following you out the company building.

once you arrived at the bakery, you tried to seem as interested as possible in whatever shotaro was talking about, but your brain was still foggy from the hectic morning you had.

“anyways, what about you?” the singer excitedly asked, “…what about me?” you repeated through gritted teeth, forcing a smile in case any cameras were on you.

“i was asking if you started preparing for your new album.” he smiled. “oh. um, yeah.” you shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

“you know i’m a big fan of your music,” shotaro started, “i loved your debut album, i listen to at least one song from it every day.” he shared shyly.

well great. now you felt even more bad for being so unnecessarily rude to him. softening your demeanor, you replied with “thanks�� i really liked ‘get a guitar’, too.”

his eyes lit up upon you mentioning his track, which you took as a sign to continue, “but i can never get the dance quite right.” you added, grinning.

“i can always teach you!” he beamed.

“that would be nice-”

“oh my GOD, is that shotaro?” a stranger gasped, causing both your and shotaro’s heads to snap in opposite directions.

even though you were technically trying to get caught, old idol habits die hard. dating scandals are every idol’s biggest fear: an entire dedicated fanbase turning on you just for experiencing romance? true nightmare fuel.

“and i think that’s y/n with him! why are they here together?” another stranger spoke up. you and shotaro swiftly picked up your belongings and left, worried you’d attract more attention.

“i’ll-um-see you, bye.” you mumbled with your head down as shotaro gave you a small thumbs up underneath the table.

the two of you set off in different directions and you began dreading the long walk home. you were wearing a mask and a beanie, which meant your chances of getting recognized were pretty low, but they definitely weren’t zero.

however, you loved walking through seoul, especially this time of year. the weather was nice, and the streets were bustling. you used to love brainstorming song lyrics and melodies during walks.

deciding to take advantage of your situation, you racked your brain for any potential lyrics.

nothing.

how could you have lost all your creativity? did your songwriting talent just disappear? how would you get it back?

doubts filled your mind as you realized you were already halfway home and failed to come up with a single verse.

maybe you were lacking inspiration. your life was filled with romantic endeavors prior to your debut, which filled your mind with several ideas for new songs.

but you seemed to have forgotten all of them, and as cheesy as it sounds, you might have forgotten how it feels to be in love as well.

nearing your apartment, you felt a vibration in your pocket. taking out your phone, you opened up an email from your manager:

Re: Dating News

Hello Y/N,

Seems like your bakery date is already going viral on SNS. A pair of fans spotted you two and uploaded a photo of you sitting at a table together. Keep up the good work.

[1 Attachment]

clicking on the attachment, you saw a screenshot of a tweet exclaiming ‘RIIZE SHOTARO AND Y/N L/N ON A DATE???’ with a picture of the two of you smiling and sitting across from each other at a table.

it freaked you out how happy the two of you looked in the photo, almost like a real couple.

shutting off your phone, you couldn’t help but smile as you entered your apartment, maybe shotaro was starting to grow on you.

in the next few weeks, you and shotaro would go on several public outings, getting spotted almost immediately.

before you knew it the two of you were the hottest topic in k-pop, headlining several media outlet articles and trending on social media.

you would periodically receive correspondence from your manager and PR team praising you for how well you were pulling the stunt off.

although you wouldn’t admit it, you were really starting to enjoy shotaro’s company as well. the two of you began texting until late hours at night and planning ‘dates’ without instruction from your team.

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to feel a bit attached to him but you reminded yourself that this was simply a work thing. besides, it’s not like he’s interested anyway… right?

you couldn’t read shotaro at all. he always had a sweet smile plastered on his face and seemed excited about everything and anything.

weirdly, you felt your writing ability start to come back slowly as well.. but it obviously has nothing to do with shotaro!

it’s just a coincidence that you draw on your memories of him to come up with lyrics; that you describe his mannerisms to a T in your potential choruses and scribble about how he makes you feel in your notebook on your off-days.

yup! definitely just a coincidence.

“y’know i used to love these growing up,” shotaro shared as the two of you stood at a street food stall indulging in dango.

“you must miss japan a lot, huh?” you asked, staring at the side of his face. his expression faltered slightly.

“of course i do, but i’m glad i chased after my dreams. it sounds cliché but it paid off. i get to do what i love, even if i’m hundreds of miles away from home.” he replied softly.

you don’t know what it was, but in that moment you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. you stared at his lips for a few moments before he caught on.

“do i have something on my face..?” he questioned, raising a finger to wipe his mouth.

you leaned in, centimeters away from touching your lips with his when he stepped back.

shit. way to go, y/n.

“sorry, i just- i don’t think we should…” he stammered,

“no, i’m sorry. i don’t know what came over me. we-i should go.” you said awkwardly, biting your lip.

you headed off before he could reply, mentally cursing at the world and wanting to crawl into a hole and die.

how could you let your guard down like that and embarrass yourself?

that night, you didn’t receive a single text from him like you usually do, so you tried reaching out.

no response.

every time you contacted him afterwards or tried to set up another ‘date’ he would flake last minute or respond dryly until he full-on ghosted you.

you stopped heading out together and your manager seemed content with it as you had already generated enough anticipation for your comeback.

the next time you saw him would be at a company meeting, discussing the end of your ‘relationship’.

you zoned out the entire meeting, barely hearing anything coming out of anyone’s mouth. you focused on trying not to look at shotaro and keeping your thoughts preoccupied so you felt less embarrassed just being in his presence.

your manager briefed you on the contents of the meeting afterwards, sharing that all you had to do was release a joint statement that confirmed you were now broken up.

“it’s easy enough, you mostly leave it to the social media managers. just send them your virtual signature and be sure to post it on your instagram as soon as possible. got it?” the man asked.

you nodded wordlessly with your head still in the clouds. for the first time in a long time your mind was filled with new ideas for lyrics, ranging from lovestruck to heartbroken to enraged.

you opted to walk home that day, even taking the longer route, furiously typing in your notes app and recording several voice notes on the way. you must’ve looked insane to everyone else around you but you didn’t care.

if you couldn’t get your mind off shotaro, you’d at least make it work in your favor. that night, you wrote an impressive 10 drafts of different songs, staying up until late and getting up early the next morning to head to the studio.

you drowned yourself in your work, hoping you’d forget about the boy whose presence was still all around you in both your thoughts and lyrics.

eventually, you refined and recorded all 10 songs, ready to release them in your new album.

shortly before your album announcement, you posted your official ‘breakup’ statement, feeling empty as you tapped on your screen.

you never would’ve predicted the somewhat annoying and yet incredibly charming guy that you were forced into a relationship with would haunt you this much.

you even found yourself looking through old posts and articles about the two of you, reminiscing on your time as a fake couple.

it stung knowing it was completely one-sided, and it stung even more knowing you could’ve still had him as a friend if you didn’t stupidly act on impulse.

you saw him here and there entering and leaving the SM building and the two of you would share a polite smile and bow before rushing off.

the response to your breakup announcement was unprecedented, and the amount of people heartbroken for the both of you took you by surprise.

riizeandrealize: ‘love isn’t real after all 💔💔’

y/n4eva: ‘at least we know the new album is gonna hit’

y/ntaro: ‘NOOO MY PARENTS’

tarosho28: ‘awww… so that means shotaro’s single again? 😁’

scrolling through the comments absentmindedly, one in specific caught your attention:

user1129399: ‘she always seemed more into him than he did. he’s probably the one that broke it off’

you felt hot with rage, what does a stupid netizen on the internet know? and why is their comment making you so upset?

maybe because they were partially right. you obviously were more into him or he would’ve been more receptive to your humiliating attempt at a kiss.

your album was set to come out in a week and you had a set track list recorded and ready.

and yet, you felt compelled to add one more song.

you went to work immediately, writing so fast your words were barely legible but you could read it perfectly fine.

you wrote as intensely and specifically as you could about everything—from your first encounter to your last. you tried to keep your other songs vague enough to avoid any suspicion on shotaro’s part about the subject of the lyrics, but you didn’t care anymore.

you were in love with osaki shotaro and you needed to express it in the only way you know how.

“are you insane?” your manager’s voice boomed over the line.

“it’s already recorded, and i have the backing vocals done too. i just need one more day to get the production team together and it’ll be done and ready to add to the album.” you pleaded.

“fine.” he sighed, “this better be worth it.”

“it will be.” at this point you weren’t sure if you were assuring him or yourself.

this was your most personal and emotional piece of work yet, and you were worried shitless about what response it would receive.

luckily for you, it did amazing on the charts and with your fans. in fact, your fanbase almost doubled in size and you were experiencing even more success than you were already.

unluckily for you, you still felt like shit.

your life felt empty without shotaro in it and no amount of fans, cameras, or praise could fill that void.

as you were preparing to go out onto stage for a music show, you ran into a familiar figure heading out of the green room.

of course it was none other than the one person you have been thinking about nonstop for the past month, wrote an entire album about, and the same guy who probably cringes every time he hears it play on the radio.

you gave him a polite smile before rushing towards the hair and makeup room.

“wait. y/n, can we talk real quick?” he began nervously.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfu-

“y/n?” he repeated, snapping you back to reality.

“yes. of course.” you responded, trying to sound as collected as possible.

“i-uh listened to your new album. it’s amazing. i loved track 11 the most.” he smiled softly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

of course you liked that track, it’s obviously about you.

“thanks! is that all?” you rushed, preparing to sprint away at any moment.

“no! honestly, i wanted to apologize for the way things ended.” he confessed,

you knew how this was going to end. he was going to give you some bullshit excuse for ghosting you instead of just telling you he wasn’t interested and waste 5 minutes of your time.

but you don’t have 5 minutes to waste. you need to get up on stage and sing about how bad he hurt you.

pathetic, but at least you’re self aware.

“save it. i know you don’t feel the same way and that’s fine. but you could’ve at least told me. you didn’t have to shut me out, I thought we were friends at the very least.” you exploded, suddenly feeling a burst of adrenaline.

“but y/n-”

“and i’m not in the mood for excuses. you had a month to think of a good excuse but i guess there just isn’t one. you know i just hope you can take this experience and learn to never do this to some other girl because-”

“y/n you’re not listening to me.”

“why should i? you didn’t bother listening to me when i called you all those times. and about track 11, yes it’s about you. the whole fucking album is about you and i bet you already knew that-”

your petty rant was cut short when you felt something press gently against your lips… but he definitely wasn’t kissing you.

oh my god. did he just physically shush me? he carefully removed his finger from it’s place in front of your now-closed lips.

“did you just shush me?! have you lost your damn mind-” you began again,

“y/n!” he practically yelled, now gaining the attention from several staff members.

“i know what i did was shitty and I’m sorry. you’re right, i shouldn’t have ghosted you. but it’s not because i didn’t feel the same way. i’ve loved you for a while now.”

your jaw dropped, along with several eavesdropper’s jaws throughout the now dead-silent hallway.

“i was scared that you didn’t see me in that way but when i found out that you did… i panicked. i was too scared to tell you how i felt and i know i’m an idiot for it.” he looked down. “i’m not going to beg you to take me back or anything, but can we at least go back to the way we were? friends?”

“y/n, you need to get to hair and makeup NOW! you’re running out of time before your performance!” a staff member called out before you could respond, dragging you away.

well great. now you have to pretend everything’s alright and sing a little song on stage when your whole world has been flipped upside down.

as you sat in the makeup chair, you pondered over what would happen if you did agree to start over with shotaro, would you be happy?

before you knew it, you were on stage facing a crowd full of people staring right at you. you usually wouldn’t mind, you’re an idol after all. but the whole situation was just overstimulating you.

luckily the backtrack began playing before you could overthink and you were able to escape from reality for a few minutes to sing and perform.

you missed this feeling. you missed staying up writing, listening proudly to your new music you poured your heart into, and giving your all on stage every performance.

at the end of your song, the crowd erupted into cheers. you looked onto all the banners with your name and face plastered onto them gratefully.

whether you liked it or not, shotaro brought your spark back. yes it caused you immense pain and suffering, but it also gave you moments of joy, including the one you were experiencing right now.

once you wrapped up, you headed backstage, surprised to see shotaro standing by the monitor. was he watching your performance?

“i made up my mind.” you announced, walking up to him.

“are you sure you don’t need more time?” he asked, nervous.

“you’re a dumbass for what you did,” you started, noting how his face fell, “but i’d be an even bigger dumbass to pretend i don’t want to be with you.”

the contagious smile you’re used to seeing slowly reappeared on his face, causing you to slowly smile as well before you quickly corrected yourself.

“but… i want a proper apology. maybe you could give me one at the bakery tomorrow morning?” you mused.

“it’s a date.” he responded warmly.

[tomssexdoll]

omgg write a fluff w tom/ bill where him and the reader are high outta their minds that would lowk be hilarious it could also be a little smutty in the end 👀

HAHAHA YESSS

Stoned

PAIRINGS: Tom 2007 x Female reader CONTENT: FLUFF + SMUT (just a bit) SYPNOSIS: Y/N and Tom are high as FUCK, they are friends and she comes over to his house to try this "new" thing he has. She assumes it's some sort of drug or weird guitar solo, they watch movies, cuddle and at the end get a lil bit freaky... A/N: haven't been high in over a year so don't bash me if i get the feeling wrong, it's from what i remember lmao WARNINGS: teasing, kissing, drug use (weed)

Me and Tom have been best friends for over 10 years, he has been my rock, supporting me through everything. He never changed, always hanging out with me, showing me off to new friends. He was amazing.

One day he called me and said he had something to show me, something "new" he wanted to try out with me. I immediately knew it was a drug or a weird guitar solo, he is full of surprises I guess.

I got into my car and started to drive to his house, wondering what stupid thing was going to consume my day.

I arrived eventually and greeted Tom, hugging him tightly and walking inside, sitting in his room. He came in with a little baggie of what looked like weed, he handed it to me and I sighed "Tom this is a lot of weed, do you plan to smoke it all tonight?" he chuckled "no of course not, if we like it we can try it again at the party next week" he rummaged through his draws, pulling out a small black bong, decorated with skulls.

"Wowww real edgy" I rolled my eyes playfully, he laughed and slapped my arm playfully "shut up it was on sale, i'm not spending 50 fucking dollars for a small bong."

I stood up and grabbed the grinder that went with is, putting the bud in there and grinding it down, once it was finished I grabbed the bong, packing some of the weed in there.

"Wow you really know how to do this huh?" he smirked, admiring what I did. "Well my brother smokes and it's not like I haven't done it before so.." I shrugged and grabbed the lighter, sparking it and hovering the flame over the bud, sucking in the smoke. (did i just give you guys a tutorial..)

I inhaled it, feeling it burn the back of my throat but in a nice way, a familiar feeling to when I smoked cigarettes. "Fuck..that's some good shit..where did you get it from" I blew the smoke out, starting to get the effects already.

My head a bit woozy, eyes drooping ever so slightly and everything becoming a bit more brighter. I looked back at Tom, finishing the rest of the cone, the way he threw his head back when inhaling was so sexy..the way his lips slightly parted and his eyes slowly shut.

"I got it from Greg, you know, Janes older brother" he looked back at me, blowing out the smoke as well. "Oh.." I said slowly "well it's not dodgy weed I'll tell you that" I giggled.

Everything was a bit slower, my talking, movements. It felt wonderful, like I was as light as a feather.

"Let's have some more, cmon" he scooted closer to me and we had 3 more cones each, it was hitting hard now, things were much more slower, I looked down at my hands and they were slightly out of focus, like I had 4 hands.

I got up from his bed and grabbed his hand, going towards the kitchen and raiding his pantry, grabbing all the snacks I could find and a few cans of soda. I sat down and dropped everything onto the coffee table, laying down next to him, resting my head on his lap, "should we order pizza.." he mumbled, I nodded slowly and grabbed my phone, dialing the store and ordering 2 large pizzas, one cheese and one meat lovers.

"Fuck..we are gonna feast" he chuckled, his eyes super red and droopy, I smiled and picked a movie to watch.

After 45 minutes our pizza FINALLY ARRIVED. I ran to the door and quickly gave the pizza guy the cash, slamming the door and almost tripping trying to get back to the couch, "fuck!" I yelped, Tom just laughed and grabbed one of the boxes, stuffing his face with pizza.

"Mmm...so good" he groaned, I grabbed a slice and ate it, savouring the taste "has pizza ever tasted this good?" I said, it was like they put magic into it, usually pizza was mid but this time it was amazing. Our movie was ending soon, we picked a horror, which was kinda dumb because we were so high.

I sat up and held him tightly at the suspense, screaming and hiding my face into his arm when the jumpscare popped up "jesus" he chuckled "it wasn't that bad" I rolled my eyes and softly shoved him "shut up..wasn't even scary.." I mumbled

By the time we had finished 3 movies everything was DEVOURED. We decided to chill for a bit, have a talk and enjoy each others company. I layed down on the couch and he spooned me from behind, holding me close.

Usually we'd always cuddle, it was never weird to us but this time, the tension was super high. Not even in a bad way, it's like the air was thicker...the way his arms were wrapped around me and his face pressed softly on the top of my head made me feel some kind of way.

I turned around and looked up at him, it's like in that moment, we were the only people alive. His eyes washed over with desire and love, surprising me. "You know, you are so beautiful y/n, you're the most beautiful girl i've ever seen" he smiled softly, brushing a hair away from my face.

"Yeah whatever, I'm sure you tell every girl you hook up with that.." I rolled my eyes, secretly enjoying the praise. "No, y/n..I mean it, you are so beautiful" he leaned closer, our lips basically inches away.

"Tom..." my breathing hitched slightly, searching his eyes for deciet but all I saw was sincerity, love and compassion, I smiled softly, blush creeping onto my cheeks.

"I want to kiss you.." he whispered, his breath hot on my lips.

"ok pizza breath.." I giggled and leaned in, kissing him gently. He kissed back, wrapping his hand around to the back of my head and pulling me closer, locking our lips into a passionate embrace. His kisses got more urgent, his erection becoming prominent in his pants, pressing up against my leg.

"See how you make me feel? You drive me crazy" he moaned against my lips, slipping his tongue in my mouth. I reached my hand down and softly palmed his clothed cock, making him groan softly.

His hands snaked down to my waist, then to my ass, squeezing it softly. Then, his hand came back up, slipping under my shirt and grabbing my breasts, rubbing his thumb over my nipple, sending shivers down my spine.

I had grabbed one of his shirts earlier, removing my bra since you weren't able to see much anyway, it was getting a bit hot so I changed my outfit.

"My shirt looks so good on you..might have to fuck you in it" he mumbled, grinning widely.

I chuckled "we'll see about that", I rolled us over, flipping me on top of him, deepening the kiss.

[runningincircl3s]

Nothing Ever After

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Vinny Mauro

Chapter Eleven

chapter warnings: NSFW!! half of this chapter is basically just smut lmao

apologies for the short chapter! the next few are pretty long so that'll make up for it :) once again a smut warning comes with a warning that i simply can't reread my own smut haha, so please ignore any mistakes!! happy monday :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were left utterly speechless, you didn’t have anything to say to that and before you even had time to think of something to say back, he had taken his drinks and left. As much as you wanted to play along with whatever game he's playing, you couldn't deny that you felt guilty. You were hurting, and so was he, but you didn't know what to do to fix it.

As you walked back with all the drinks, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as Caitlin laughed at something Vinny said, acting like it was the funniest thing in the world. 

“After we finish our drinks,” you whisper to Noah as you sit back down beside him, “Why don’t we go back to the hotel? I’ll say I feel tired and you could say you’ve got a call you need to take…”

“They’ll still be suspicious,” he says, “Let's just wait until we’re done here, okay? We've got nothing else on for the rest of the day, it'll be just you and me. All night.” He smiles, his hand rubbing up and down your thigh, sending shivers through your body, but you nod your head. 

“It’s Bryan’s turn!” Nicholas cheered, turning his camera on to Bryan, "So far Noah's in the lead, Chris is pretty close and so is y/n! It's gonna be a close one."

“I don’t know why I’m still playing, I’ve already lost. You guys are all 50 points above me!” Bryan chuckled as he got up.

"C'mon, Bry, it's all just for fun." You smiled, and he shook his head as he went up to bowl.

In the end, you and Chris had the most points, and you only needed to score higher than 7 to beat him. He jokingly gave you a sly look as you got up, taking your turn. 

As you rolled the ball, you hit 5 pins in the left corner. You knew you had this in the bag! You’d easily beat Chris, there was no doubt. 

You rolled the second ball, and hit 4, leaving one in the middle, yet winning the game! 

You turned around, smiling as the guys cheered for you, all except Vin who was talking to Caitlin. You walked back to your seat, grabbing your bag and your phone, finishing your drink and grabbing Noah by the hand to pull him up. 

“My room or yours?” You asked, tilting your head as you looked up at him. 

“It’s gotta be yours, doll. I’m sharing with Matt tonight.” He whispered.

“Cool, let him know you’re coming to my room to look at the pictures I took, to see if any of them are official page worthy.” You smiled, “I’ll text you my room number.”

As you began to walk off after saying your goodbyes to the guys, who were staying behind for one more drink, you accidently bump into Caitlin as she digs through her bag for something.

"Sorry!" You gasps, and you smile, shaking your head.

"Don't worry about it," you notice how Vinny was at the bar with a couple of the guys, so you took the slither of time you've got to talk to her, "So how do you know Vin?"

"He followed me on instagram a few years ago, he'd always like my posts and reply to my stories. We try to meet up whenever we can- it's nothing like that though, we're just friends... Unless we're drunk in his hotel room." She giggles, and you smile and nod your head.

"Well, it's been great to meet you!" You say as you take a deep breath. You weren't jealous, why would you be jealous? She's a beautiful girl, he's a beautiful guy, of course they're going to get up to all sorts of things when they're alone.

So why were you so mad that they had a history, or that he invited her along today?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Fuck,” Noah groaned as you grabbed a handful of his tshirt, “I never thought this moment would come, where I’d have you all to myself.” 

You grinned against the skin of his neck, where you were peppering kisses before you felt the back of your legs hit the bed. You wiggled your way up, your head now against the pillows as Noah hovered over you, the most devilish look on your face. 

“You beat all our asses out there, didn’t you, beautiful?” He slips his hand under the sweater you were wearing, feeling your bare skin beneath his fingertips, “I don’t know whether to reward you for doing so well, or teach you a lesson for being so cocky earlier.” 

When you thought his hand would travel higher towards your bra, he surprised you, his hand moved lower, and you felt it slip under your skirt, under the hip of your underwear and rested it there, his thumb tracing over your pubic bone. 

“But you’ve been working so hard for us, I think it’s only fair that I say thank you.” He added, before asking permission to take your panties off. 

He moved his way down your body, your sweater now pushed up, exposing your tummy where he kissed a trail down to your thighs, yet he insisted your skirt stayed on. You knew what you were doing when you got dressed this morning, part of you wore it to tease him, and although you wouldn’t let yourself admit it, part of you wore it to tease Vinny too. 

You felt bad for him, knowing how you let him down, but you suddenly stopped thinking about Vin when you felt Noah’s tongue on your clit, kissing, licking, nipping and sucking as you threw your head back, strings of moans leaving your lips as you melted into the pleasure, letting it consume you. 

“So fucking gorgeous, you know that?” You heard him say. 

As his mouth worked on you, his hand moved its way to where you needed him. He teased your hole with his thumb, slipping the tip in before pulling back out, leaving you clenching around nothing as he smirked against your clit. 

“Noah, please,” you begged, breathlessly, “I need you, stop teasing.” 

“I know, baby, look how wet you are,” he said, pushing himself up slightly as he ran his finger teasingly slow through your folds, collecting the slickness before he took his finger into his mouth, “Bet it’s been a while since you’ve been fucked, hasn’t it? Poor thing.” He pouted before he dove back in. 

“Oh my g-” You slapped one hand over your mouth as the other tugged on his hair, you swore you felt him groan into your pussy as he brought his hand back up, his pointer finger slipping into you with ease, followed by his middle finger. "Fuck!"

His fingers fucked into you slowly, too slowly, but he knew how good it was making you feel and the noises you made as you were begging for more was music to his ears. He takes your thighs and places them over his shoulders as he sucks on your clit, his fingers curling into you, rubbing the spot you could never reach alone. He needed to see you come undone for him, he needed to watch your break in his hands 

He pulls his face back to kiss your thighs, the rough pad of his thumb now stroking circles over your clit, the slight stubble on his chin tickling you as sinks his teeth into your soft flesh, losing himself in the pleasure he was giving you. 

“I’m so close,” you tell him, “I’m gonna-”

“Go on, baby,” he tells you between kisses to your clit as , “Need to see how pretty you look when you cum, my pretty girl.” He mumbled into your flesh, as you felt your thighs tremble around him. 

It didn’t take long for you to finish, your walls clamping down around Noah’s fingers as he moaned into your skin. Even after your orgasm hit, he didn’t move, he remained between your thighs until you had to force him off, the overstimulation becoming too much to handle. When he finally came up, he roughly grabbed your cheek in his hand, crashing his lips into yours as he moved up, kneeling between your thighs, you could finally feel how hard he was, and you were almost certain he had gone commando today. 

“Noah…” You panted, your forehead slightly damp with sweat as he rested his against it, “Fuck me.”

“Anything you want, angel.” He smirked, and you felt his hands reach for the hem of your sweater, pulling it over your head, his lips parting at the fact you weren’t wearing a bra. As he took one of your boobs into his hand, you worked on undressing him. 

“It’s not fair that you’ve still got all your clothes on.” You tell him as his fingers tease your nipple. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He says, slowly pulling back as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his fully tattooed chest, then pulling a condom out of his pocket before pushing his joggers down- and you were right, he wasn’t wearing any boxers. “That better?” He asked, leaning back down to kiss you again. 

As you kissed, you felt his hips twitching involuntarily, his cock rubbing against your heat as you desperately tried to get more from him. 

“Noah, please…” You begged, “please fuck me, I need to feel you…”

"You're so pretty when you're begging, baby." He teases. “Are you sure?” He was watching how frustrated and flustered you were as you screwed your eyes shut and tried rocking your hips, needing more. 

“Yes!” You whined, and he pulled back, you guessed to roll the condom on, and with no warning, you felt the head of his cock nudge against your walls as inch by inch he filled you up. You felt as tears fill your eyes, the pleasure from his cock filling you so perfectly mixed with the dull ache from the stretch and the pain of him remaining so still inside you. 

He slowly began to move, his hand holding you down by your waist as the other pulled your legs to wrap around him, letting him fuck deeper into you as you cursed his name, your nails digging into his back. 

After a while in this position, Noah flipped you over onto your stomach, and he reached down to position you with your ass up for him whilst your face was buried in the pillows. He continued to fuck you like this until you came for the second time, muttering incoherent nonsense as your second orgasm took over you, but judging by the look in Noah’s eyes, he still wasn’t done.

He had you in every position, on every surface of your hotel room. From the bed to the desk in the corner, to the bathroom sink where he made you watch as you fell apart for him. You lost count of how many times you came, but just when you thought he was done, you were flipped over or lied down as he drove back into you, or got on knees to clean you up.

Hours had passed at this point, and the two of you were finally lying together on the bed, your limbs sore and your heart beating erratically as his fingers danced over the skin of your arm, holding you close with your head resting on his chest.

There were moments during your night together where you were using sex to release your built up frustration towards Vinny, knowing how much he would hate to know what you and Noah were up to, but you assumed he would be doing the same with Caitlin later so you assumed he wouldn't care.

"You okay?" Noah asked, gently twirling a piece of your hair before tucking it behind your ear.

"Yeah," you smile, tracing the outline of his stomach tattoo with your finger, trailing to just above his belly button, "I can't believe we just did that."

"I don't think I've ever lasted so long." He chuckled.

"Don't you go to the gym now? Your stamina would've improved." You point out, and he smirks.

"Yeah, I've been seeing the way you stare at me," he rubs his hand up and down his arm, "Don't think I don't notice, angel."

"Can you blame me?" You tilt your head to look up at him, "The last time I saw you, it looked like it would take one strong gust of wind to blow you over- and I mean that in the nicest way possible, that's literally my type- and now you look like you could bench press me?"

"So you're saying I'm your type?" He raised an eyebrow, a smug look across his face as you sat yourself up.

"No!" You tried to hide your smile.

"So what is your type?" He asked, his eyes meeting yours as he awaited your answer, but this only caused you to blush.

"I don't often like someone for their looks, it's always their personality. Someone funny, a bit of a nerd, has the same music taste as me, who stands for the right things... Someone who doesn't care about what other people think of them. That's what I find attractive."

"Y'know you basically just described me, y/n." He smirked.

And Vinny.

"Shut up!" You smiled, "So what's your type?"

He thought for a moment, and you thought he was going to give you an honest answer, but then he started describing you. Your height, your hair colour, your body shape, your eye colour, before you interrupted.

"Noah, I'm being serious!"

"You think I'm lying? What have we been doing for the past three hours, princess?"

"You... Really like me?"

"You haven't noticed?"

"Oh, Noah." You frowned, and he reached out to pull you back onto his chest.

-----------------------------

team vinny we might not be up right now but trust me everything's gonna change in the next chapter <3

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86 @itsyaboinoah

[witnessprotectionprogramurl]

back by popular demand (<- lmao yeah sure), dirk gently season 2 dashboard simulator

🌻 livelaughlove-deactivated

*white knuckling the bathroom sink* I'm nice I'm nice I'm nice I'm nice

🛻 bob-boreton-deactivated

me when i lie

6k notes

👑 thefuturequeenofwendimoor Follow

"what's your body count?" usually there isn't a body left when I'm done with someone

👑 thefuturequeenofwendimoor Follow

my pile of dust count is 4 though

👑 thefuturequeenofwendimoor Follow

frog count is 1

26k notes

🍹 bored-bisexual Follow

fuck my stupid baka life I keep missing the charging port on my phone

🔑 sherlock-not-holmes Follow

are you perhaps an alcoholic

🍹 bored-bisexual Follow

no I've been sober for 12 whole minutes

487k notes

🖍 theboyyy-deactivated

fuck you *causes a power surge in the entire city*

🖍 theboyyy-remade Follow

I need you all to know this post had me in a coma for 50 years

3k notes

🪨 beast Follow

me n my bf bibbit <3

🔎 holistic-detective Follow

yes, I'm bibbit now. this is my life. living in the forest. with my girlfriend, beast. who literally has me on a leash. this is fine I'm fine everything's fine.

🪨 beast Follow

hi bibbit

106k notes

still couldn't think of an emoji for farah 😭 I should make more of these theyre fun ok byeeee

[veranavera]

Tldr; My next trans-pride flag post will jump numbers from my previous post from peak 44 to peak 53. No I didn't forget a post, no you didn't miss one, and no I didn't lose my phone this time - I just reorganized the list of mountains I'm doing

For those of you who are curious about the details:

I reworked the current list of peaks I'm climbing to be a list of 131 of the P1k peaks in the Northern Appalachians. Because of this, some peaks that I climbed this summer that were previously additional peaks are now main peaks. The reason for the change is that I need to focus my efforts and make the 131 a realistic goal for me in my life right now, which is limited by time constraints (working), geographic constraints (living only in the Upper Valley), and life plans (not wanting to spend too much more time in the Northeast (currently thinking about staying through next August or so)). What changed is that now the list is a list of 131 of the P1ks in the region (i.e. nor an exhaustive list), as opposed to the previous cutoff of 1240ft, which was an odd choice in retrospect. The current iteration of the list can be found here:

https://www.peakbagger.com/List.aspx?lid=-948013&cid=39805

That being said, I don't view the current iteration of the list as any easier than the last, I just view it as more realistic for me given that the next time I'm living in my van, I'll almost certainly go to another region and won't want linger in NY/NE for long. What this means is that I'll have a very limited time window after I'm done working to hike more in the Northeast. Meanwhile, while I'm working, I'm simply unwilling to consistently drive 6+ hours each weekend to go bag a peak in Maine or the Catskills that isn't that much more prominent than a peak in NH/VT. Make no mistake, I'm still going to be putting *a lot* of effort into these peaks - this change just makes it so that that effort is as focused and fruitful as it can be

The peaks that have been retroactively added to the main list that I've already done are:

6/131 - West Kill - July 14

20/131 - Bald - July 28

22/131 - Western - July 28

23/131 - Ragged - July 29

24/131 - Megunticook - July 29

**update 2024-04-16**

30/131 - Azure - August 7

**update over lmao**

40/131 - Sugarloaf - August 23

41/131 - Mars Hill - August 24

50/131 - Peak 2620 - October 28

The photos of these peaks I've already posted here, but if you want to see them, feel free to check out my google drive of photos:

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xlSe-BeaVVTCi7SD-xil3wXzDJ8zjHUs

Thanks for reading this far :P

[ratlordsarah]

dr two brains clay thingy 50% done

yes, I was able to reattach his arm

my hair is wet lmao

Also, my phone and tablet are now covered in clay 💀🙏

Enjoy the ungodly spamton drawing in the background 😭

[thus-spoke-lo]

I got tagged by @blondeboyfriend in an author self-rec game and i feel so weird about promoting myself (hell, i do like one srb and feel like i've done something wrong sometimes lmao) BUT...here are my five favorite things I've written, with director's commentary.

Pain Management (Trafalgar Law x reader, 18+): I'd written stuff before that was personal to me in ways, but never like this. This was therapy, lol. It was the longest I've spent writing for one character in particular (if you add up my one-shorts, drabbles, and this, I've easily spent 50-60k words on Law), and I feel like it gave me a better understanding of how to write him, but also a better appreciation of him in canon, weirdly? Also just has some of my favorite smut I've churned out (the supply closet in Ch. 6...sigh).

A Ride for a Ride (Roronoa Zoro x reader, 18+)/Compliments to the Chef (Sanji x reader, 18+): I'm smooshing these together since they're for the same collab, and damn were these so stupid and fun to write--like, I have yet to have more fun writing than when I write for @/bastardblvd's collabs and prompts. I usually adhere to canon AU, so to go SO far out of canon that I'm not even in like, modern AU, but in Slimeball Canon-verse...was incredible. (Also, that scene with Sanji and the cigarette...god that was hot to write.)

The Taste of Love on Your Tongue (Sanji x reader, SFW): I adore the melancholy vibe of this so much. I wrote this after spending a week across the country with my parents, playing caretaker for my mom and getting the house ready for my dad, who had hip surgery and was going to be coming home from hospice shortly after I left. It was late, my plane was delayed, and I desperately wanted someone to comfort me, so I wrote this.

Like Alcohol Vapors (Roronoa Zoro x reader, SFW): Aw, baby's first angsty fic! I really liked the feelings of yearning in this, it feels visceral to me--I feel that ache from both of them. And it was, I think, some of the better back-and-forth dialogue I've done, too.

Meant to Be Yours (Doflamingo x reader, 18+): This was the first fic I went fully feral in writing--I started it during my work day, on my phone in the notes app, then stayed up until 6 am writing/editing because I had such an itch I needed to scratch. I'd written dub-con, but not...extremely dub-con before, so this was interesting to try to keep sexy and from being a little too non-con adjacent. Also the beginning of my descent into Doflamingo madness, so there's that.

No-pressure tags: @sanjis-all-blue, @quinloki, @downforsanji, @swampstew, and literally anyone and everyone, this is a fun reminder of how good at stuff you can be.

[blood-mocha-latte]

🪐📚🥐🏜️ for the writers ask!! (plz replace with whateva if youve done these already)

erin my bestie. my dear. how is the vibe my friend

writer ask game :)

i answered 🪐 here and here so instead i am choosing to do. uh.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

“Yeah.” He says. “You’re my friend.” He doesn’t say that he thinks that Macon may be his best friend. He doesn’t say that he thinks that Richard Macon is the only person he’s ever been really, truly honest with, in the ways that count.  “Oh.” Macon says, but doesn’t sound really surprised. He’s still watching outside the fence.  He doesn’t say that he’s Benny’s friend back.

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

a list of things we need to Pack because we are Moving! the Very Very last thing i wrote down was. plates lmao

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

any female born after 1993 can’t cook… all they know is mcdonald’s , charge they phone, twerk, be bisexual , eat hot chip & lie. i am Basic

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

honestly i love any type of comment lmao. i did the math the other day because i was Bored At Work and per average hits on a fic, .0368 people leave a comment, so every one is a Treasure. but, if i get to be picky, i adore longer comments because it lets me see parts of the work i poured my Heart and Soul into reflected on another person

[novelcain]

Novel I have the funniest story

So I have Discord, right? And recently, my mobile Discord notifications haven't been sending. I don't know why, I have all the permissions turned on, but it won't work—whatever, right? As long as I check my phone regularly, right?

And it's been a really good day! I got the highest grade on my essay, I totally nailed a presentation, I made my favorite soup for dinner—a great day. It's around 6:50 PM and I'm cradling my soup in one hand on the couch, just relaxing from the day. It's my first break from homework for a while, and I'm enjoying it. I decide to share the positivity in one of my group chats on Discord with my close friends. So I send "@everyone love you" and I close Discord, thinking nothing else. I finish my soup, I do the dishes, and I go upstairs to play some video games on my computer.

All the while, I haven't checked my phone. I don't have Discord open on my PC, and I've been trying to cut my hours on my phone to focus on the real world (aka touching grass). I play a game, and while I'm waiting for another player to take their turn, I check my phone because I'm bored.

Strangely, I have one notification. I don't recognize what app it's from, but it looks like a text or call. I unlock my phone to check and find out it's my friend Catherine calling me on Whatsapp. Strange, right? We only use Whatsapp for sending videos that are too big for other applications and for when my internet kills Discord. (For context, Catherine is my best friend and basically the Novel to my Ritz. Also, my wifi is awful—probably why I've been struggling to receive notifications)

I think the call is weird, especially since there were no Whatsapp texts accompanying it. I try to call Catherine back, but she doesn't pick up. I reason as to why she did it—most likely I didn't respond to Discord fast enough so she tried to get my attention elsewhere. That makes sense, we do it all the time to each other. So I go and check Discord.

It opens to the channel I left it on, where I pinged my friends and told them love you. I notice I had 6 DMS, but I noticed my friends had replied and I was curious to see how they were. had already forgotten I did that, to be honest, so I go and read the responses. Let me just:

(Cami)

@everyone love you

(Raven)

LOVE YOU TOO

(Jasper)

love you too

(Slyvie)

You're the best! :)

(Raven)

Why the random love you tho?

(Sylvie)

Yeah, that confused me a bit too

(Raven)

Cam whats goin on?? Why the random love you?

And suddenly, it hits me why Catherine called.

And my first thought is: oh my god, they do not think I killed myself.

I open my DMs to Catherine, and sure enough I see: "are things mostly okay Cami? You haven't marked off anything from your accountability list, and there was the message you sent in the groupchat. I'm a little worried."

And I just go: OH MY FUCKING GOD THEY THINK I KILLED MYSELF.

Which is literally the worst way you could ever respond to "love you" with, by the way

Anyway, I explained what happened and now it's going to be an inside joke with the group. I literally despise my friends, theyre the best😭😭😭

LMAO GIRL NO! You be out here givin people heart attacks professionally istg 😭

But honestly as someone who's done this on accident too this is so funny 😂😂😂

Also my discord mobile notifs have been fuckin up too! What's up with dat? 🤔

Also!

CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR SCORE!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎊🎊🎊🎊🥳🥳🥳🥳🥂🥂🥂🥂 SO PROUD OF YOUUUUUU!!!!!

[the-cult-of-russo]

Poetic Tragedy (Part 1)

Pairing: Reader X Billy Russo

Warnings: Cursing, angst, sadness, substance abuse, mental health issues. This one’s a little dark and not really in a violent way (okay, it does have the typical canon violence lmao). Just more the themes explored, I guess? 

A/N: So I legit have like three other Billy multi-chapter stories I’ve come up with since being back and I get like one chapter done and another idea hits me. This one came to me when writing another and I hope you guys like it. I'll be honest, I usually like waiting until my multi-chapter fics are completed before posting them. I have a habit of starting them and then I get stuck or whatever and they get abandoned. But I'm onto my third chapter of this and I figured I'd post it and see what people think. 

Name for this one is from a song of the same name by The Used.

The cup is not half empty as pessimists say

As far as he's sees, nothing's left in the cup

A whole cup full of nothing for him to indulge

Since the voice of ambition has long since been shut up

A singer, a writer, he's not dreaming now of going nowhere

He gave heed to nothing, and all that he was....

Is just a tragedy

So he voyages in circles

Succeeds getting nowhere

And submits to the substance

That first got him there

Then in violent, frustration, he cries out to God or just no one

Is there a point to this madness and all that he was....

Is just a tragedy

—------------------------

“The vigilante duo, The Punisher and Jigsaw, once again took down a crime syndicate last night with the help of their soldiers. We don’t have details right now but the CIA and FBI have said they're looking into it,” the newsreader said gravely and you rolled your eyes, leg bobbing up and down as you waited impatiently on the sofa. Josh came back out from his room then. He’d been on the phone when you got here and told you to wait. He chucked his phone on the dirty coffee table before he licked his lower lip and tilted his head at you. He was skinny, scarily so and his blonde hair looked dull and hung over his eyes.

“It’s gone up, sweet cheeks,” he smirked. It made your skin crawl and you glowered at him.

“What do you mean it’s gone up? It went up last week. Do you think I have money coming out of my ass?” you asked in a snappy tone, your hand sweeping across you and drawing attention to the dirty jeans and the holey, far too large for your frail frame, dark gray sweater. He let out a condescending snort and shrugged his shoulders.

“That's not my problem, Y/N. You’re not my problem. It's gonna be $100,” he smirked. You stood up, hands clenched to fists as they shook. You felt the desperation clawing at you as you grabbed the only money you had out of your pocket, waving it at him.

“I have $50! 50, That we agreed on! It’s all I have!” you yelled, your voice tinged with panic.

“Well it's not $50 anymore, princess,” he grinned darkly. You growled, gritting your teeth so hard they felt like they might shatter.

“Or…. you could give me the 50 and make up for the rest in another way?” he smirked leeringly at you and you recoiled, feeling sick. You’d only ever stooped that low once before and you’d never do it again. It made shame fill every pore of your body to think about.

“Go fuck yourself!” you snarled, stomping to the front door.

“Come back with the money or your pussy or don't come back at all, Y/N!” he called out after you and you slammed his door forcefully. 

That slimy piece of shit. You hated him. Hated that you had to rely on him and hated that he could easily screw you over and there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it. You had about a day before things were about to get really fucking bad for you. You knew the only option was to steal the money you needed. Stealing wasn't exactly new to you, it was how you made most of your money these days. But with the amount so high, you didn't think you’d have enough left over for food too. And with no food in your stomach for 4 days, it made you feel depressed. You knew what you’d pick, what you’d always pick. You heaved a sigh and brought your arms around yourself to stave off the cold. Your sweater wasn't thick and all you had under it was a ratty old black tank top. The same clothes you’d worn for the past 3 years after a local church wanted to help those in need. You didn't believe in god, didn't think he'd bestow the life forced on you if he was real. Still, you were grateful for the good Samaritans that helped in the name of Jesus. Your boots had holes in them and were a size too small. You’d found those in the dumpster a few years back too. You glanced to the sky and you knew it would be dark soon. That's when you’d strike. It was best like that. Less people around to try and intervene. 

By the time darkness blanketed the sky, you were on the prowl. You hadn't come across anyone suitable yet. No one alone and an easy target. You might be desperate but you weren't stupid. A flick to the nose would have you on the floor so you had to be careful. There had been plenty of people, although not half as many as in the daytime. Mostly groups of drunk people having a good time on a Friday night. You scratched your face with a sigh, a hopelessness consuming you as you worried you wouldn't find anyone. But then luck seemed to hit you across the face. A woman was crossing the street, coming over to your side. She was chattering on her cell phone, looking like her head was in the clouds. You eyed her up, noticing her Louboutin heels as they clicked against the sidewalk. You might be broke as shit but it didn't mean you didn't know designer when you saw it. Your eyes lit up gleefully. Maybe you'd be able to get your food too after all. 

You steeled yourself as you walked, the girl walking your way as she yammered on to whoever the poor victim on the phone was. Her purse was dangling precariously off her forearm as she strutted down the sidewalk like it was a runway. You rolled your eyes internally. Didn't she know how dangerous New York was at night? She was lucky you were the one to meet her and no one else. As you walked past her, your hand darted out with the reflex only an experienced thief would have as you snatched her purse.

"Hey!" She squealed at you, but you didn't stick around as you took off running. You knew with those heels, she wouldn't be chasing you. You ran until you got to the alley a block away. Your alley. You finally looked at your goods then. A Gucci purse, figures. You knew it would fetch a pretty penny if you could sell it. Issue was that no self-respecting business would allow you to step foot in their store. Holding no value to you, you opened it, snatching the money from the pocket inside before you tossed the purse to the damp and dirty ground. Your face split into a grin as you counted it. $500. That would be enough for what you needed plus food for days. Maybe even for your next few trips to Josh's. It sent a wave of relief right through you. You'd never managed this much before. It was getting harder and harder to steal here in the city. Maybe since crime rates went up and vigilantes became a thing all over the news. 

You were basking in your accomplishment, too distracted to hear anyone behind you at the mouth of the alley you'd just come from. 

"Didn't your parents ever teach you manners?" A voice rang out, making you whirl around to come face to face with two men. Your eyes darted from one to the other in quick succession. One was shorter than the other, his face unobscured but his chest emblazoned with a skull. The other was wearing a black hoodie, the hood pulled up and a weird white mask with painted cracks on it. He looked like he should be in a horror movie. But you knew looking at them who they were and once your shock wore off, you scoffed and shook your head. The Punisher and fucking Jigsaw. Of course. 

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you huffed, jaw clenched. No, god really didn't exist. 

"Stealin's wrong, sweetheart. Hand the money over," The Punisher smirked, holding out his hand. Your hand tightened around the money as you gaped at him.

"Don't you have real crime to be dealing with? You know, like rape and murder?" You asked dryly. 

"Stealin’ is a crime," Jigsaw muttered, tilting his head at you. He was far more unsettling than his counterpart, only his dark eyes visible from his mask. He was standing tall and imposing, legs slightly apart and his shoulder squared.

"I'm not giving you the money," you growled, squinting at them both. 

"Yeah, you are," The Punisher smirked. 

"Or what?" You asked defiantly, raising a brow. Jigsaw reached around him, grabbing a handgun from his waistband before cocking it. 

You let out an incredulous laugh as you shook your head for what felt like the millionth time. 

"Are you serious?" You asked, looking half amused and half stunned. 

"As a heart attack," The Punisher answered.

"Did you see who I stole this off? Bitch looked like she has a penthouse with a maid. Fucking Louboutin shoes and a Gucci purse. Meanwhile, I'm over here living in a goddamn alley," you swept your arm behind you where a meager blanket lay near the wall on top of a large piece of cardboard.

"I haven't eaten in four days, but no, I'm sure Miss Penthouse will really miss a few hundred dollars," you seethed. The pair looked at each other, Jigsaw rolling his shoulder a little. The Punisher gave you an uncomfortable look as he stepped forward, making you tense as he held his hand out. You scoffed a mirthless laugh, roughly slapping the money into his hands. 

"And I thought you guys were supposed to be the good guys," you sneered. 

"We are," The Punisher muttered tensely. You snorted at his words. 

"Sure, keep telling yourself that. You go out there trying to rid New York of crime but you don't ever question why stuff like this happens? You really think petty crime is the same shit as murder? You tar all of us with the same brush when some of us do this out of necessity. To survive. But yeah, we're all just criminals. I'll remember that when I'm lay there freezing and starving," you bit out, anger swirling around inside of you before you stomped over to your blanket. 

"Now get the fuck out of my alley!" You bellowed, glaring at them. They exchanged another uncomfortable glance with each other before Jigsaw made a move to grab the Gucci purse from the ground. With that, they left. 

You sat heavily on the cardboard, pulling the blanket around you although it did little to ease the cold. It was turning winter and you dreaded it. Those were always the hardest months here. You couldn't believe those two assholes. Now you had no money for food, no money for… You felt a lump in your throat as the panic clawed at you again. It wasn't like you did it because you liked it. Not anymore. But now you needed it to function and you hated it. You lay down as tears pricked your eyes and you willed yourself to get to sleep. You had no idea what you were supposed to do now.  The idea of having to go and pay Josh that way again made you feel sick but you were starting to think you wouldn’t have a choice.

—------------------------

The next morning, you lay wrapped in your blanket, eyes unfocused and gazing at the opposite wall. You’d been awake for hours but you couldn’t bring yourself to get up. It had started. Withdrawals. Your body was aching like a bitch and you felt colder than you knew you were supposed to. Your head was thumping and you were exhausted, yet unable to sleep. You heard your stomach growl loudly on its fifth day with no food but you tried to ignore it. You didn't want to face the world, didn't want to have to sit there and beg for change. It certainly wouldn't help you right now, give you what you needed. And while you knew you also needed food, the thought made your stomach roll. You still had the $50 burning a hole in your pocket, but you weren’t touching that. That was for something else and you needed to make up the rest of the money and fast. You heard the sound of boots in the alley and struggled to sit up. When you glanced over, there was a figure walking down it. It took you a moment to recognise him without the skull over his chest, but there was The Punisher. He was wearing a dark green hoodie with the hood pulled up, some jeans and boots on. He held something in his hand. You groaned inwardly, not in the mood for his bullshit. Your nerves felt raw already and you didn't want to deal with him after last night.

“I thought I told you to fuck off,” you huffed weakly as he stopped a little in front of you. Your face felt clammy and you leaned back against the brick wall as you sat there looking at him. 

“You did. But I… I brought you breakfast,” he muttered, looking uncomfortable. He held out a styrofoam tray and cup of some kind of hot drink but you made no move to take it.

“Wow, didn’t realize breakfast and a drink cost $500!” you smiled mockingly at him. He shifted on his feet, eyes darting all over the place before back on you. When you didn't take the food, he sighed and placed them on the floor next to you. Despite your salty words, you picked up the drink, not caring what was in it. The heat on your hands felt relieving and you sipped on it gingerly. Coffee. 

“Your little pal Jason not with you?” you quipped hotly after another sip and him just awkwardly watching you. A confused frown graced his face.

“What?” he asked, squinting at you.

“Jason… Friday the 13th?” you asked, raising a brow with a blank look on your face. 

“Look… About last night,” he started, completely ignoring your question.

“Unless you got my $500 in your pocket, I don't care,” you smirked darkly. He raised his eyes heavenward for a moment with a sigh.

“I know shit ain’t black and white, alright? I’m not stupid. But you can’t go around takin’ shit that ain’t yours,” he huffed. You laughed but it wasn't a pleasant sound as you blinked up at him. You felt like shit and you had no patience.

“Listen…” you trailed off, not knowing what to call him. You didn't know his name and calling him The Punisher to his face felt weird.

“Frank,” he supplied. You squinted at him for a moment.

“What?” you asked slowly.

“My name is Frank,” he offered easily, his eyes boring into you. You didn't know what to do with the information. You weren't sure if his name was common knowledge or not or if he’d just willingly given you something that could hurt him. But you didn't really care.

“Listen, Frank. Spare me the lecture on mortality, okay? You're standing there with enough money to buy a random stranger breakfast and a coffee, with your nice warm clean clothes and wherever you are, I bet you have a roof over your head. You have no idea what it’s like living this life, the shit I’ve had to do to just survive. So you don't get to stand there and act like I’m some hardened criminal. Because tell me, Frank, who’s the murderer here?” you asked darkly, raising a brow at him. He swallowed thickly, shifting on his feet as he looked away for a moment. You were glad. He had no right coming here and trying to make you feel bad for doing what you needed to just to live. You lost the guilt you used to carry with you for stealing long ago. 

He was silent for a long moment and you slurped your coffee. You knew you should eat the food but your stomach churned and you knew soon you’d be throwing up and you hated it. After a while of him seemingly not knowing what to say, he looked you over again.

“You feelin’ alright? Look a little… ill,” he muttered. 

“Oh my god. Can you spare me the little sad puppy routine? Stop acting like you care. Thanks for the coffee and everything, but please just go away,” you sighed, closing your eyes for a brief moment. You heard him move and your eyes snapped open to find him digging something out of his jeans pocket. He pulled out a piece of paper before crouching next to you. You instinctively tensed and squinted at him as he held out the piece of paper. There was an address scrawled onto it along with a phone number. You didn't make a move to take it.

“We got a place, alright? You need a warm bed or… or food or whatever. You can just… come to us. Whatever you need,” he murmured, that stupid pitying look on his face. Your jaw ticked as he placed the paper on your lap when you didn't take it from him. You wondered if he was stupid. Wondered if this was their secret lair, the base of their operation that he’d just handed to you. You didn't know much about the pair of vigilantes, it wasn't like you owned a TV to watch the news, but you’d caught snippets whenever you were at Josh’s. You knew it wasn't just the two of them, though they were the leaders. But they had a whole group and the news called them soldiers. You could easily hand this to the police and you both knew it. You wouldn't though. As much as they were assholes to you the night before, you knew they did good on the street. Made it safer. The streets were very unsafe for anyone homeless, especially a girl like you. Especially in your condition. You’d wasted away out here and your little problem hadn't helped that issue any. There was nothing to you anymore and you knew just how cruel these streets could be. The statistics of homeless people murdered each year were sickening, the number of them going missing even worse. Because homeless people weren't viewed with the same lens everyone else was. They weren't seen as people. People thought they could do what they wanted to someone on the street because they had no one to care for them, no people to miss them when they were gone. Not even the police cared. People were conflicted when it came to the vigilantes. Most people thought they were a good thing, getting rid of crime and doing what the police couldn't or wouldn't do. But the NYPD weren't happy with having their toes stepped on, being made to look bad. And they’d called in the CIA and FBI to help catch the crusaders. It could be dangerous. Make other people feel bold enough to turn vigilante themselves and wind up hurting someone innocent or hurting themselves. It got messy when people thought they could take justice into their own hands. You glared at the paper for a moment, not knowing what to say. You didn't want his pity. You needed the money he’d taken from you but you knew you weren't getting it back.

“My number’s on there… if you ever need anything, need help… give it a call,” he sighed when you didn't speak.

“With what? My invisible cell phone?” you snorted derisively. You couldn't help it. He’d annoyed you and now he was trying to help you. No doubt felt he needed to save you or fix you. You were beyond fixing. He gave you a look for a minute before he rummaged in his pocket again, placing 50 cents with the paper on your lap. 

“Use a payphone if you need to. I’m just trying to help,” he murmured sadly. 

“Well I don't need your help, so go away,” you muttered with a frown. He nodded, not looking happy about it but at least doing what you asked as he stood. He gave you one last lingering look before leaving the alley and you felt yourself relax a small amount. As much as your pain-riddled body would allow you. You picked up the paper, recognising the address as an abandoned industrial estate. You knew it because homeless people would once go there. You knew you should throw the paper out, never planning on using it. But something tugged at the back of your brain and you sighed, slipping it with the 50 cents into your pocket. 

A few hours after Frank’s visit, you were lying unmoving, staring at the ceiling as Josh moaned above you. You felt nothing but a hollow emptiness as he rut into you, jostling your body a little. You knew you would end up here out of your desperation. But as your symptoms got worse, you couldn't hold out any longer. You couldn't go through full withdrawals, not again. You’d stupidly tried to get clean two years back. Decided your addiction was costing you far too much and making you ill. But going cold turkey when you're out on the streets is impossible. When you have no one to take care of you, help you through it. No safe space to go through something so traumatic. You hadn't lasted a day until you’d caved. After a large groan, he pulled out of you, taking off the condom and tossing it carelessly into the wastebasket near the bed. He padded off into the bathroom and you sat up, picking up your clothes as you started to dress yourself. You didn't feel upset. Didn't feel shame. No, that would come later. Once you were dressed, he came back in with a sly smirk, holding out the bag to you. As you made a move to grab it, he pulled it away with a wicked smirk.

“What do you say?” he asked with a raised brow, looking smug. You wanted to hit him. Wanted to wipe that smirk right off his face. But you knew what he was like, learned that lesson the hard way and he’d broken your nose for your troubles. You clenched your jaw, right eye twitching.

“Thank you,” you ground out, feeling the prickle of shame start to eat at you. You hated that you’d been reduced to this. All by the shit that was in the bag he was holding. His smirk widened and he let you take the bag. You didn't wait around before you scurried out of his apartment. You’d have enough to last you a week. That's how it usually went. 

You rushed to the shit hole that was your ‘home’, your hands trembling with the need to use. You sat on your makeshift bed, opening the bag quickly. You grabbed the piece of paper Frank had given you before carefully tipping some of the powder onto the back of your hand. You rolled up the paper before snorting it hurriedly. You’d never injected it. Back when Josh first approached you and tried to convince you to use it, how it would make you feel better, you’d told him you didn't want to get addicted. He’d promised you that you wouldn't. You couldn't get addicted if you snorted it. He’d lied. The only real difference between snorting and injecting was the fact it took between 5 to 10 minutes for the high to kick in compared to the instant results of injecting. You felt an instant relief that was more mental than the substance, knowing you finally got what your body needed. You moved to lay down, waiting for it to kick it. It never quite hit the same as when you first started using. You still got high and it helped numb you a bit but you never felt the euphoria you once felt. You’d used for too long, your body had gotten used to it. You’d slowly been having to use more and more as time went on to even feel high at all. You slowly started to feel the effects of the heroin take its hold and you closed your eyes with a breath of relief. At least you’d sleep tonight. 

[imaginespazzi]

Hey bestie, me again 🙋‍♀️

I was just re-reading don't be a stranger because ofc, why wouldn't i be? And I just wanted to let you know that these lines specifically kinda broke my heart:

“you’re my best friend. You’re always gonna be my best friend. Ride or die right?”

“I’m really happy you’re happy P.”

“Always have fun with you P” “more than anyone”

“I think these last few weeks of summer might have been the best of my life”

Because wow she loves P so much, and makes me think about her freshman year and all the times her heart would maybe have raced just a little bit faster every time her phone buzzed, hoping and wishing it was her best friend. Only it never was. And I'm imagining she was constantly keeping track of UConn games, for research purposes ofc, and would probably lock herself away in her room to watch them so her teammates wouldn't see her cheering on Paige and the massive smile she'd have every time she scored or had a good assist or defensive play. She'd especially play back moments where the camera focused on Paige because that's about as close as she'd get to her best friend again. And her teammates would never understand why she keeps the pictures of her and P up on the wall because "is she really your best friend if she doesn't even speak to you? All because you chose a different school?". Yet, she'd always defend Paige even if deep down, she knew they were right. I just wanna give UCLA Azzi the biggest hug 🫂

Anyway, i know you said that her teammates are gonna be the biggest menaces to Paige. GOOD, I hope they give her hell lmao. 😈 I feel like the story is gonna be a fun game of wanting them to be together already but also has Paige done enough yet to earn back our (Azzi and the readers) trust, and I'm fully along for the ride.

Also, not me meaning to stop after the quotes and then rambling like this, I'm so sorry! One day I will learn to send a normal ask that's like 50 words max 😭

Hoping for a good dub today and maybe this will be the day blondie beats the "gets too nervous in front of my girl" allegations 🤭

Much love always, have a beautiful day 💗

BESTIE HIIIII 💗💗💗

Lowkey always have the biggest smile when I see you here, like you're literally my favorite person ever on here I swear and please don't ever apologize for sending in long asks like they make my day. 🥺

The way you just get UCLA Azzi though>>> Like girlie went through IT for a year but she didn't lose hope (like Azzi is very "this love" coded in this fic actually like just wait til I get to her pov and I will be including some of this because you're a genius bestie) once because that's her best friend, like that's her soulmate and she's just never gonna be able to let that go.

But she's also got insane trust issues with Paige that I'm about to start unraveling slowly (it's gonna be so fun I swear though y'all might hate me a little for it) and it's going to take a hot minute (and by that I do actually mean years) for her to figure out how to give that part of herself to Paige.

Also she heard you and had a good game babe!!

[abey-baby-apologist]

clone high final episode spoilers below! (9 n 10)

holy fuck im so happy. even though im super annoyed how they keep throwing a bunch of really good ideas for relationships and plot in the trash- im just so happy with what we got. 

OK FIRST EPISODE 9??? THE ANIMATION WAS SO FUCKING GOOD AND I HAD TO PAUSE BECAUSE WHEN WESLEY WAS FLAILING IN THE SEA, IT WAS DAMN smooth and pleasant to watch, as morbid as it sounds lol. that whole scene with the comic-esque vibe was so so pleasing. 

and that whole episode was super like, sad but funny. i literally stood up and yelled when Mr. B was getting near the edge. like i probably woke up every single one of my neighbors in like.. a 50 mile radius it was that bad im so fucking annoying about this show. 

BUT THEN SCUDS SAVED HIM AND I WAS SO HAPPY, LIKE THEYRE LITERALLY AN OLD COUPLE, AND LITERALLY THEY’RE FATHERS TO THEIR CLONE KIDS AND THEYRE ALL SUCH A BIG HAPPY FAMILY AND AUGHHHH im gonna draw family stuff with them so bad. I WISH THESE EPISODES CAME OUT BEFORE FATHERS DAY IT WOULD’VE BEEN PERFECT. 

ok, episode 10 i have to take a deep breath with. i am VERY happy. and idk if it was because the bar was so low, or if it was because i was so anxious i was vomiting everywhere because i needed content so bad, but i am overjoyed. 

THE ABETOPH CONTENT WE GOT WAS SO GOOD. WE HAVE LIKE... 3 NEW CUTE PHOTOS OF THEM HANGING OUT, AND LIKE A BUNCH OF MOMENTS OF ABE CARRYING TOPHER ON HIS BACK. was it because he was being tophers lackey? fine, sure, whatever. BUT AFTER THAT WHEN JFK BROKE TOPHERS PHONE IT WAS OVER (im upset it wasnt developed on further because people who didnt watch it in real time like us will surely be fine. so fuck you.) 

Also, ABE AND JFKS FREINDSHIP HOLUYDBIUJEWNFJKNF oh my god not to be autistic but i was stimming so fucking hard WHEN THEY HUGGED, I WAS LIKE YES FINALLY. FINALLLLLYYY!!! theyre my sweet boys and THAT WHOLE FRIEND GROUP HAS ME IN TEARS. LIKE abe and Confucius are already bros, as we see them playing in the school yard, and JFK and Confucius are already bros from the sleepover episode, but NOW JFK AND ABE ARE BROS. FUCK. YEAH. oh and tophers there too. i like how they treat topher tbh. like hes just there until he says something out of pocket and they’re just like stfu. 

but with the girls friend group.. oof. i honestly loved them so much, especially with cleo, but NOW ITS FUCKED. and its not even joans fault tbh. like when i was watching the scene where frida dropped joan i was like “damn” but then, JOAN MENTIONS HOW SHE HELPED EVERYONE BEFORE AND I WAS LIKE “DAYYYYYYUUMMMM UR RIGHT” so now im conflicted. But again like??? bruh i would choose cleo too tbh lmao.

Also, i’m glad clone college isn’t real. because jfk mentions about taking shelly to .. biology? which i think is a only 1st year class. and in the original clone high everyone is like “omg u hit puberty over summer” Which i feel is typically something thats potrayed in media AFTER middle school. but i could be wrong so, idk. just really glad they didn’t do the clone college bc i hate change. also theyre 16 lmao. OR MAYBE THEY WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT... in the future when highschools done?? IDK. IDC.

anyway. im scared for joans friend group and i fucking love joan, and i am in love with abe, toph, jfk, and Confucius’s little bromances and augh. im so happy. and THE CLIFF HANGER WASN’T TERRIBLE ALSO, IN MY OPNINON. 

im just glad joanabe wasn’t endgame. i mean, i would be pretty happy because im a sucker for childhood friends to lovers but also NOOOOOO joan deserves better. so. yeah 10/10 

if you read this far, holy crap, im proud of you, and ily 

that is my review on the finale so i’ll be making so much content now that im not on the brink of collapsing everytime i think of clone high. like trust me im gonna try and stretch out this fixation for as long as i can. though im probably gonna draw a surplus of abe and jfk art bc they were my fav in 2020

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #243

What do you want for your birthday? I think I'll get a piercing, but my mind could very well change by then.

What’s your favorite flavor of tea? I hate tea.

What’s your favorite fall drink? Hot chocolate.

What’re you going to be for Halloween? I'm not dressing up. Don't have the money to buy a costume, don't have the motivation to make one. I also don't do anything.

Do you think you’ve learned a lot and grown a lot in the past year? I don't know. I've just struggled a lot the past year. There was around a two-month period where I was in my worst mental state since the start of '17, and I've only barely improved.

Are you satisfied with how you’ve spent your year? NOOOOOOOOOOOO! Again, I've struggled. I've been particularly upset that I haven't done a photoshoot since LAST November. That was my last one. I've barely touched my camera. The few pictures I've taken, I haven't liked enough to really do anything with.

Do you have a lot of friends? No.

Do you own a yellow scarf? I don't.

Do you own anything leopard print? No, not a fan.

Will you buy a cake for your next birthday? I mean, *I* won't, but Mom probably will, unless she makes one.

Are you excited for something currently? I'm looking forward to playing more of the Silent Hill 2 remake with Girt.

If you could change just one thing about your life right now, what would it be? I just wish I was in a mentally better place. It would help me with a lot of other things.

What’s your favorite color? Pink, particularly lighter hues.

Are you artistic? I think so. I just wish I exercised that more often.

When was that last time you drew a picture in a sketchbook? A few months ago.

Is there a tree right outside your bedroom window? There is, actually. Crape myrtle tree.

Have you ever dressed up as a witch on Halloween? I have.

Have you ever been to a masquerade? No.

Do you eat vegetables? I mean, I do, but not often or with much diversity at all. I tend to not enjoy vegetables.

Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? There are people in their 50s I find hot lmao

Did anything bad happen to you in August? It was either July or August when my anhedonia just got so, so much worse and I REALLY struggled to get through the day.

Who in your phone has a heart after their name? Girt.

Do you think your last ex deserves to die? No. I may not like her, at all, but no.

Do any girls like the last guy you kissed? I mean possibly? I trust Girt, though.

Have you done anything sexual today? No, it's actually been a HOT hot minute, just because I haven't been in the mood. Girt doesn't push me or complain about it, even if I have my times of worrying about not giving him enough.

Do you have a second mom? I mean, I have a stepmom. I don't see her as a "mom" to me though, my dad remarried when I was basically an adult, and besides, she's a massive fucking bigot so I struggle to bond with her properly. We're perfectly mannerly with one another, but knowing the shit she believes, it's hard to actually love her. But she makes my dad happy, and that matters to me.

Other than your name, what was the last name someone called you? Ozz. Derivative of the screenname I usually use.

If you could find one long lost friend of the past, who would it be? Megan. I shouldn't care about her, but I do.

Was your sixth grade teacher a man or a woman? I had different teachers for each class in middle school. I remember my math teacher was a male, maybe others, my middle school memories are foggy.

Have you ever had any teeth pulled? My wisdom teeth, which I only had two of.

Do you wash your hair or your body first when taking a shower? Hair.

Have you ever eaten something other people might think is gross? Sure. People hate hot dogs (even I think the concept's gross), but I like them.

When was the last time you colored with crayons? Probably sometime during a psych hospital stay.

When you were a kid, who was your best pal? Varied with grade/age. There was Brianna, Kim, Jenna, Quiata...

Have you ever been to a nursing home? Visited, yes. That's where Girt's grandma is.

Do you own any board games? Somewhere.

Were you born in the state you live in? Yes.

Have you ever lived in a house that has been broken into? No, thank fuck.

Who do you know that watches the most sports? God, probably some AWFUL in-law of Ashley's. He's such an ass, he literally comes into her house and immediately demands she turns "the game" on. I can't even remember exactly who he is, but Ash can't stand his ass, he's so rude.

Have you ever been 4-wheeling? I have.

Will you be attending any weddings in the near future? Next November my younger sister gets married, but that's not exactly the very NEAR future.

Do you live anywhere near the woods? Tragically no.

Do you have any important anniversaries you celebrate? Mine and Girt's.

What’s your favourite brand of energy drink? I don’t drink energy drinks.

Do you have (or have you ever had) acne? I did growing up. At around 17 or 18 it stopped being a big thing.

What will be the next concert you attend? Hell if I know.

Can you rap? There ain't no way in hell I could.

What do you usually order when you’re at McDonald’s? Quarter pounder or McDouble, fries, Coke.

Do you like to wear long, dangling earrings? No, I really can't. I got my lobe piercings at Claire's, which is very unprofessional, and I think they pierced too low, especially my left lobe, because the hole tore quite badly to where the hole has very nearly torn through. Dangling earrings make it worse, I think.

Do you pay any attention to your country’s politics? Mostly, I think. But it can get overwhelming, and I CERTAINLY don't know everything.

Tell me about the sickest you’ve ever felt. Probably this time I had the stomach virus super fuckin' bad, puked a lot to where barely bile would come up, and my abdominal muscles were in a lot of pain.

Any important birthdays coming up? My boyfriend's nephew's bday is next month, I go to his birthday parties.

Fireworks: yay or nay? Fireworks shouldn't be legal. They disturb the hell out of animals (some animals LITERALLY die from fear), people with trauma too, and they cause waste. It's not worth it.

Think of the last long car trip you had, where did you go? Charlotte.

Do you have a Twitter account that you use regularly? Fuck Twitter.

Have you ever seen a horseshoe crab? They’re scary, right?! I have not. I wouldn't call them scary, but their undersides can be a bit creepy with all the legs moving.

Do you like people watching and is it something you do often? If so, where are your favorite locations to do so? Not really, I just don't care.

The last time you ate leftovers, what was it that you were eating? Pizza.

What is your favorite board that you've made on Pinterest? Rammstein pics lmao

Do you get on Facebook or Instagram more? Facebook.

What was the last thing you ate or drank that was blue raspberry-flavored? Mountain Dew Voltage.

What was the last song you listened to? I'm not sure.

Have you discovered any new hobbies in the past couple months? No.

What's the wildest animal you've ever come in contact with? I'm not sure.

Do you ever question if your mother loves you? No.

What is your favorite type of Lunchables? The nachos one.

Are any of your siblings' friends like family to you? No.

Do you have any friends who you exchange memes with? Ha, Girt.

Are you in any Discord servers? How often do you use them? I'm actively in a meerkat RP one. I'm also in the Rammstein server that is primarily the Tumblr fanbase, but I'm not active there because it's too active for me to keep up, I get overwhelmed.

Have you ever had to see an emergency vet after hours? I don't think so?

When was the last time you sat under a blanket on a couch? I dunno, it's been a long time.

Can you bite into ice cream or are your teeth too sensitive? I can.

Do you know anyone who's been bitten by a snake? Maybe at one point or another.

Do you prefer strawberries or cherries? I hate cherries, meanwhile strawberries are my favorite fruit.

Biggest insecurity? My weight.

Describe your mom with one word. Selfless.

Do you like fast food or does it disgust you? I HATE how much I tend to enjoy fast food. I know it's not good for you, but.

Who was the last person you kissed? Girt.

What’s your favourite alcoholic drink? Sangrias.

Do you like the smell of BBQs? I like the smell, but hate the taste of southern BBQ. I know elsewhere a "barbecue" just means burgers and hot dogs on the grill, which I like, but southern BBQ is garbage to me, I can't eat it.

Do wasps scare you? Yes.

Have you ever worn flip flops in the snow? I sure have lmfao. Not very heavy snow, though. And I wouldn't if I was STAYING in the snow for more than a minute.

Have you ever heard people having sex in the next room? Yes.

Have you ever been in a beauty pageant? Thank fuck no.

Have you ever lost your voice? Yes. This happened bad the first time I had Covid.

Did you ever have an emo or scene phase? Emo, yes.

Could you see yourself having a child with the last person you kissed? We don't want kids.

Which of the guys you’ve been interested in hurt you the most? Jason.

Do you know anyone who is engaged? Yes, my younger sister is among them.

What are you listening to? A John Wolfe let's play of Red Dead Redemption 2.

What was the last thing you looked up on Google? How to get the "Leave" ending in the SH2 remake to see if it's changed from the base game and just as a reminder since there are multiple factors. When Girt and I played the OG, I aimed us for "In Water" since it's my favorite, so I want him to see a new one.

Ever been kissed on the leg? I mean probably.

Do you think you are ready to be on your own (have your own home, job, etc.)? I very firmly believe I could never survive living solely on my own for many reasons.

Are you friends with someone who’s autistic? Yes.

Have you ever had a Big Mac? No, considering I don't like lettuce on my burgers.