#FORGOT TO TAG J.D.-

[witch-sweets]

Me and @randomeggart, @milk-box-16, and @t052ther0b0t have been cooking something >:3

(Also if any moots or people interested in the au want comment veiwing permissions dm me and I can share the link so you can veiw and leave comments!)

[theboyatthebustop]

I was on the fence about making this poll, but I realized i wanted to hear what people who don’t keep up with drama in the book community (or those aren't even in it) have to say about it.

I do want to say that this is not a complete list of book drama because it’d be way longer, so I didn’t include things like Soapgate, the A Deadly Education fiasco or the multiple controversies Cassandra Clare/Colleen Hoover were in.

also, I found out there’s a bit of character/option limit when it comes to poll choices, so I had narrow it down.

*by that, he meant if you are a woman in your 20s who wears makeup, does book tags/hauls, make high quality videos, and/or rave about YA, you’re not a “real reader™️”

**in a later interview she then tried to rectify this by saying it was actually her upbringing and mental illnesses that caused her to reviewbomb other debuts Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the Reylos got involved in this.

[unfinishedbusincss]

For muns with multiple muses, past and present, on any blog.

Rules: Fill out the form according to which muse suits each title best. (The same muse can have multiple titles.) Repost and tag. Feel free to add more!

Favorite Muse: I am currently singularly devoted to Anne Bonny.

Most Character Development: Great question! I don't really know if I have an answer to it or not; all of my current muses, including the ones I haven't dragged here yet, are fairly new to me. I guess...circus!Velvet has come furthest.

Trash Muse: Velvet. :|

The Meme-Lord: Probably J.D. That feels like their energy.

Most Likely to Start a War: Velvet, Teach. Not exactly surprising, y'know?

Worst Personality: I. I can only say her name so many times. Velvet. (Followed by Kassandros, then Sylla, then Anne.)

Best Singer: Sylla, but that's hardly fair because she's kind of a siren.

Most Attractive Muse: what do you mean? they're all hot.

Biggest Heart: Gomez by a mile.

Falls in Love Quickest: Gomez. My poor fool.

Most Likely to Drop Their Phone in the Toilet: J.D. or Emerson.

Ice Ruler: Alcina's the resident (...evil, lol) snow queen but Teach isn't far off.

The Edgelord: Teach, J.D., Velvet, in that order.

Most Tragic Backstory: Sibylla, circus!Velvet, J.D., and Anne. What's that you said? "But Ren, those are all the ones with backstories you wrote?" I would never !

Best Case of Puberty: Velvet IAI (in all incarnations).

Most Awkward: Depends on the situation, but...the answer is probably Anne.

Busy Bee: I was just saying elsewhere that I don't think Anne actually knows how to relax.

Most Clueless: Hugo. My beloved baby I will someday bring back. After him and aside from Glitch...I don't think "clueless" is a trait I can fairly assign my muses.

Most Likely to Forget Their Wallet at Home: ...if just an excuse not to pay, Velvet IAI and Will. Genuinely forgot/didn't know to bring it, Alcina.

Best Dressed: Kassandros, Sylla, J.D., Alcina, Gomez, Margot--take your pick baby I got ~fashionistas~ in every genre.

Biggest Flirt: Kassandros <_<, Sylla, Gomez

Most Dramatic: Kassandros, Velvet, Sylla, Alcina, Will, Teach, take your pick.

Least Likely to Show Up Late: Anne. As a matter of fact, she was early. Where the fuck were you? Sleeping? Tch.

One with Weirdest Habit: Uh. So I was going to say Anne even though she's not weird, just fidgety...but I guess Hugo.

Most Likely to Be Caught at the Gym: J.D., June, Emerson, Gomez, Derrick. Derrick and June were the bestest of gymbros.

tagged by: @hvbris tyvm! tagging: @oceanbreathessaltyx ? idk, steal it!

[aliceosemansolos]

Fav Song: Awkward Conversations-The Front Bottoms

Fav Book: Radio Silence - Alice Oseman or Catcher In The Rye - J.D Sallinger

Fav Show: Brooklyn Nine Nine or Heartstopper

Last Book Read: A Breath Too Late

Last Movie Watched: Juno or 500 Days Of Summer (Idk i forgot tbh

Tag: @skateisawesome @kambeingkam @ep1-darkblue @importantmakerpersona @a-ghost-in-universe

New game! Ib: @polar-bears-making-pancakes

Tag five people to answer these questions and keep it going! I'll start

Fav Song: So High School by Taylor Swift

Fav Book: Solitaire by Alice Oseman

Fav Show: Heartstopper

Last Book read: Loveless by Alice Oseman

Last Movie watched: Descendants rise of red (send help)

Tag: @audrina13 @torispr @torisaysstuff @milan-ii @manically-depressed-psychopathh

[alltheangstmygifttoyou]

Last line tag but because I don't talk to anyone instead of tagging I'm going to do multiple WIPs to prove to myself that I've actually accomplished some writing this year (2022). Anyone who sees this heres an open invitation to post your own last lines :33

Edit: Found this in my drafts, I think I just didn't feel like tagging at the time and forgot about it lmao

Content Warning: alcohol consumption by adults, mentioned violence and death

Susan's story:

"Help me sit her up and stay upright." Newbie took charge and for once Perry followed. J.D was flashing her eyes and there was no doubt she had a concussion.

Elizabeth's story:

Klaus very much wanted to collapse onto his bed, but even if Ben agreed with Lizzy’s plan, Klaus highly doubted his living siblings would.

Remus' story:

He had told Janus what happened which had the deceitful side theorizing what the hell was going on. Virgil was too drained to think and dragged himself to his bed where he fell asleep quickly. 

Btvs soulmate story:

Why the younger watchers still in training were being blamed Wesley couldn't even hazard a logical reason. Before the attack he'd only ever encountered one vampire in person and it had been in a controlled environment.

Whisky Slips:

All of this was how at three in the morning Wesley and Fred were extremely drunk, Gunn moderately drunk, Cordelia a bit tipsy, and a sober Angel gathered in a somewhat messy circle around Cordelia's living room playing Never Have I Ever. Cordelia's low level of intoxication was due to her drinks being pretty weak and not the lack of shots she had to take.

Wesleys secret part 3:

“But Angel made it very clear that Angelus had nothing to do with the attempted murder.” Lorne bit out.

Tina's story:

However, a child with dilated pupils lying on the floor grabbing at the air while holding a conversation that was completely nonsensical was not that relieving.

Art's Story:

“Have… Have you checked your email today?” He asked softly, curling further into himself. Art frowned and shook their head.

Fuck Up:

The loss of playful boasting and giggles that couldn't be held back left only the rattle of the chains holding the swings and their shoes dragging through the wood chips and dirt.

Malcolm: The King of England:

Before the fake agent could answer Malcolm's phone began to play the song America Fuck Yeah and he released the knife and pulled out his phone. It was Elena calling. "One sec dudes." Malcolm told them as he answered the call.

Untitled (fanfic writen late at night on a whim):

At this point the husband finally stopped just standing and watching and calls the police and wraps an arm around his wife's waist to stop her from going near the fight.

Untitled (also a fanfic written with no plot thought through well):

All of which had gotten the hospital in a horribly tense building.

(I think that sentence should say made the hospital a horribly tense building but idk what i was trying to say at the time)

[racetrackshiggins]

octet: a chamber choir musical (2019) by dave malloy, directed by annie tippe

isolation, anxiety inability to assimilate with society and the fear that the monster will find me infect me and blind me butcher my heart and distort my soul it’s starting to get to me it’s starting to get to me

[snarkwrites]

ssw | juice ortiz ; when he can't go any deeper | m

Notes:

Okay so here's the thing.. This is a bit of a glimpse into the future / what if for a fic I'm about to start writing.. well, re-writing. Despite me knowing jack fuckall about strip clubs / exotic dancing / how to describe someone giving or getting a lapdance or pole work, I got the idea to have Hazel working two nights a week in a club, idk why.. Anyway.. The idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are, loves.

Also.. I'm no longer just dipping my toes in the filth pool anymore. I went all in with this, oops rip. If anyone wants me to actually write the fic I have in mind for this... Pls.. I beg.. LMK.

Prompts:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

kiss me up against the wall // moan my name as you come // when he can't go any deeper. - those were all the inspiration / prompts for this.

Fandom / Character:

Sons Of Anarchy / Juice Ortiz x Teller Morrow!OFC, Hazel

Fics Hazel can be found in:

None..Yet.

** the one I've used her in is being discontinued to do a rewrite.**

Warnings:

No minors, full stop. There is NSFW / adult content ahead. If you're underage, this was not meant for you -nor should you be reading this. If you choose to stick around after my warnings, this is strictly a you thing and it's not my problem or fault.

If you choose to go on and read this, these are the things present you need to be aware of: stripper!ofc - I admit.. I really am not too sure on how strip clubs operate, so.. if I'm wrong, sorry. lap dancing. thigh riding. body fluids tw. unprotected sex. That's pretty much it.

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@sassymox

@twistnet

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT MY WRITING | TAG LIST DOC - IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, THAT IS. | FANDOMS I WRITE FOR]

I swear I wanted to melt into the floor when I happened to glance out in the crowd and see Juice Ortiz sitting in the back with his eyes glued to the stage. I froze where I stood behind the curtain peering out and for a good five seconds, I heavily contemplated just bolting out the back door of the club.

But if I did that, I’d be out of the killer tips I’ve been told I could get dancing at this place. I wouldn’t have an outlet to express myself freely, either.

,, I had to know this would happen sooner or later. Charming is a small town and the guys from Samcro do come to this club. Even taking the audition and showing up tonight was me, taking a huge risk… So I had to know this would’ve happened at some point if I actually get the gig.” the thought came and I took three deep breaths. The hope was that I’d center myself.

Spoiler alert… it did not happen.

But I did catch sight of a brunette wig. And I convinced myself that between the wig and the dim lighting and the fact that Juice was so far away from the front of the club where I’d be dancing on the stage, he wouldn’t figure it out.

I’d just finished putting on the wig when the club owner cleared his throat and nodded to the curtains in front of me. “You’re up, kid. Do this right and Tuesdays and Thursdays are yours. Fuck it up and you can forget ever getting a chance to try again.”

I scoffed at him for a second or two but he stared me down, humorless.

My favorite Motley Crue song began to play and I stepped through the curtain. Out onto the stage and just as I did, I happened to see that prick AJ Weston and the guy who bought one of the shops downtown making their way to the table right in front of me.

My stomach dropped.

Those cold and emotionless eyes locked on me and he smirked. Nodding to me and leaning in to the shop owner. His best buddy or whatever. I don’t try and keep up with whose pissed off my father day by day, so I didn’t exactly know names.

All I did know was that for whatever reason, my mother’s scared to death of AJ Weston. She thinks she hides it, but she doesn’t. And my mother is not a woman who scares easily.

Suddenly, my biggest worry wasn’t Juice sitting in the back of the club anymore. It was the prick sitting right in front of the stage. I strutted out on the stage, not bothering to make eye contact with AJ Weston, no matter how hard I could feel him staring at me, willing me to do so. I tore off the cropped leather jacket I wore over my favorite red lace bra and after twirling it in the air a time or two, I tossed it onto the stage, hitting the floor. Writhing. Arching my back and crawling around, whipping my hair around to the song playing. I kept away from the center of the stage because I did not want to lock eyes with AJ Weston. I literally had zero desire.

The crowd was starting to get into it. I started to feel that rush like I used to feel when I danced in Las Vegas. I completely forgot about AJ Weston, thankfully. And what started off as a bumpy dance got smoother. Even more so when I found myself searching the crowd. Finding Juice in the back and locking eyes with him. That seemed to cut out a lot of my nervousness.

My hands drifted down my body, and I caught myself pretending they weren’t my hands but Juice’s. Just the thought of him feeling me up, his hands pinning my hands over my head. Pressing into me. The way he’d feel strained against those baggy jeans when he bucked against me in the heat of the moment. I used my dirty mind to fuel the dance. Letting my hands wander down to the waistband of my leather pants, working them down.

The crowd was really getting vocal now. They usually do when the clothing starts to actually come off. My stomach fluttered nervously when I locked eyes with Juice in the back of the club and I actually saw the way what I was doing on stage was affecting him.

He sat up a little straighter in his seat. Spread his legs a little. Squirming around. He nursed a glass of whiskey and his eyes wandered up and down my body slowly. When I hit the floor and started to writhe around, my back arching and my ass up in the air, he bit his lip. Watching intently. Rubbing his chin in thought.

Out towards the front of the club, right in front of me, I heard AJ swearing. Laughing out loud. I wanted to strangle the asshole, especially when he really got started with all his stupid filthy commentary as if he were mocking me, as if he were somehow better than this place even though he was willingly sitting here, of his own volition… But I went back to blocking him out. Focusing all my attention on Juice all over again instead.

Imagining what I’d do if I truly had half the nerve. What I’d let him do to me if I weren’t so damn afraid of falling in love with a Samcro man.

Because if I were going to love one, I’d choose him. Hands down. If I were ever to settle, I’d want to settle with Juice Ortiz.

My song was nearing an end. My dance was slowing down. I made my way up the pole again, grinding it as I inched up it. Slowly. Seductively as I could... Eyes locked on Juice the entire time as I flipped myself upside down and started to wind around the pole, spinning slowly with my arm outstretched as the other arm gripped the pole to hold myself. And just before the official end of my song, I dropped to the ground, crawling away from the pole. Towards the front of the stage, bolder. Getting closer in the hopes I could at least get a little better look at Juice’s face because I was dying to see the expression on it right now.

I smirked in his direction and gave a teasing wink as I pulled myself off the floor and slunk towards the red velvet curtain separating the back of the club from the front.

“Stormy Knight, ladies and gentlemen. If anyone wants the VIP experience, find Vinnie.” the announcer called out over the rowdy crowd. I was just about to reach for the doorknob on the door that lead into the dressing room when a throat cleared behind me.

“Not bad, kid. If you can bring that every single Tuesday and Thursday, gigs yours.” the club owner was standing there, smirking. He almost looked like he felt bad for doubting me in the first place. He added casually, “Had three guys come to me about VIP dances. I usually leave all that to my girls to work out. That’s extra dough in your pocket, makes no difference to me. I know half of ya have extra mouths to feed.”

I eyed him, my mouth falling open.

“Three guys? Like.. altogether?”

“No, no.. Two were together. One was by himself. Belonged to one of the MCs. Just do me a favor and at least attempt to obey club rules, kid. Don’t go gettin knocked up on the clock.” the man laughed and I took a deep breath.

At best, I figured that the biker in question was probably one of the Mayans I’d seen sitting towards the middle of the club.

I was pretty damn sure I knew exactly who the two men were and after mulling it over because it seemed as if my new boss was awaiting a decision from me, I decided I wanted no part of the risk of having to give AJ Weston and his slimy friend a private show.

“I’ll take the biker tonight, man. I’m not feelin up to a three way.”

The owner nodded and mused thoughtfully, “Good idea, kid.. That one guy out of the two of ‘em looked like his elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor. I’ll go get your biker and bring him back. You got room 3. That was Gina’s old room.” before walking away, disappearing out into the front of the club again.

“Please god… at least let it be the J.D Pardo look alike if it’s one of the Mayans.” I muttered to myself, not daring to get my hopes up that it’d be Juice.

A throat cleared from behind me. I nearly shit myself when I heard Tig Trager mumble with a laugh, “Okay Ortiz. Go get your girl.” before walking away. I did not dare turn around until I knew Tig was long gone.

“Stormy, huh? That’s one hell of a name, baby girl.” he mused aloud.

I turned around slowly. Found myself body to body with him. He was staring down at me intently, licking his lips. Chuckling as he shook his head and leaned in a little closer to whisper, “Does daddy know you dance, Hazelynn? Because if he’d been here… Seen all that…” he fanned himself and gave me a teasing smirk.

My mouth dropped open.

“How? How’d you know?” I stammered out.

“I saw your car parked outside… Life pro tip, princess.. If you wanna keep this a secret, I’d suggest parking around back. Or catching a ride. Because your car? Kind of hard to forget.” Juice’s hand settled on my hip and he pulled me just a little closer. His eyes dipped down, settling on my lips, a quiet groan coming when his intent stare made me lick my lips and fidget a little.. Melting against him a little before I could stop myself from doing it. Giving a sheepish laugh as I glanced up at him.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Relax.” he chuckled. He must have felt how tense my body was as I pressed against him. I let out a shaky breath. Parts of me wanted to ask the logical question, if he came here a lot, but also, at the same time parts of me definitely didn’t want to know. Those parts of me knew that if I did ask and he said he did, I’d get just a little jealous. Because it already happened whenever I’d see him at the bar and he’d have Croweaters flocking to him.

“Guess I owe you a VIP.” I teased gently, nodding towards the door with the gold star and the black number 3 painted on it. I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand, starting to lead him in the direction of the room.

“If you don’t wanna do this…” Juice frowned slightly and acted like he was going to walk away, but I stopped him. Made him look at me.

“It’s fine. It’s part of the job.” I gave him a reassuring smile as I opened the door to the room, stepping inside. Letting him step inside.

He closed the door behind him and we found ourselves body to body all over again. He muttered quietly, “Confession… I saw that Weston asshole and his idiot friend talking to the owner about a VIP dance with you so I went over and offered more money.”

Between the goofy little shit eating grin he gave me as he said it and the fact that he did that because he knows the guy creeps me right the fuck out, I was blown away. Before I could stop myself, I rose to tiptoe, gently pressing my lips against the corner of his mouth. “You’re an actual angel come to Earth, sir. You have definitely earned that dance.” I muttered softly as I pulled back to look up at him.

He bit his lip and my eyes followed the movement helplessly.

If I thought I was making myself wet on stage with my own dirty imagination, it was nothing compared to how wet I got when I locked eyes with him and realized that he was fully aware that I’d been staring at his mouth like a proper idiot.

I stepped close to him again and placed my palm on the front of his cutte, gently shoving him so that he settled in the chair right behind him.

Right away, his hands went to my hips. I lowered my hands, pushing his hands back down as I shook my head. “No touching. Club rules, Juice.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, sorry.” he gave an awkward laugh and I giggled softly. Sinking down into his lap slowly.

Maybe I was slightly exaggerating out in the hallway when I told him I could do this and made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. The second I settled in his lap and started to grind against it, I could feel myself dripping just a little more. I rose up slightly and he sucked in a breath. His knuckles went white with the way he was gripping the arms of the chair. His eyes were absolutely glued to me and I smirked. Teasing a little. Acting as if I’d take off the cropped leather jacket over my bra only to pull it back up.

The third time I did this, he growled quietly. Bucked himself against me. When I whimpered and grinded myself down harder against his lap, he muttered in a heated whisper, “You feel what you’re doing to me right now, baby girl?”

Oh. I felt it alright. The way he strained at his jeans, cock still twitching and growing harder and harder. The little friction I was allowing myself wasn’t enough. My cunt was throbbing and I was getting so wet that I was pretty sure when I finished giving him his lapdance the poor guy was going to have a wet spot on his jeans.

“Mhm.” I answered in a daze, leaning in so that my lips brushed against the shell of his ear and my tits rubbed right against him. He whimpered and bucked into me all over again and when I slipped out of his lap, he frowned. I hit my knees, parting his legs. Staring up at him from where I kneeled on the floor and he shifted in his seat, gripping the arms of the chair tighter when I started to rise up. Swaying my hips side to side. Leaning in. Rubbing against him as much as I could get away with. Oh, I was definitely using this little VIP dance he paid for as an excuse to do as much touching and teasing as I thought I could get away with.

All those urges to touch him I normally kept at bay were finally being allowed free reign and it felt so good.

I settled on his lap again. He let out a long and shaky breath and we locked eyes. He was staring at me like he wanted to ask me something or he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.

“What’s up?” I asked quietly.

“Nothin, it’s nothin.” he said it quickly. Too quick. I gripped his cutte and pulled him in closer. My mouth inching dangerously close to his as I muttered against it, “Whatever you want to say, say it. Trust me. I can handle it.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” he muttered. After a second or two of staring at his lap, he looked up at me again and asked quietly, “Did you wanna dance for me?”

“I got the owner to come get you, didn’t I?” my heart was beating faster. I thought it’d jump right out of my chest. I did my best to play as cool and casual as I could but every single part of me wanted to tell him that dancing was not all I wanted to do for him.

“I know that… what I mean is.. Forget it.” he went quiet. Looked down again and I gripped his jaw, making him look up at my face. “Eyes up here, Ortiz.” I teased gently, my smile falling away when I saw the serious and somber look in his eyes. I scooted away a little, an attempt to give him some space. Settling myself over his thigh instead of fully positioned on his lap as I had been.

“Talk to me.” the words left my mouth in a whimper as I pressed myself right against his thigh, rocking my throbbing sex back and forth over it. Getting wetter and wetter with each second that passed. And the ache. Oh god, the ache. I was on the brink of frustrated tears. And I couldn’t break down, I couldn’t act anything less than totally professional, because this was my night job and I was on the clock but God.. did I ever want to.

He spread his legs wider and took a deep breath. Trying not to touch me, but I could tell with the way he kept raising his hands only to put them back down on the arm rests of the velvet covered chair he sat in that he wanted nothing more than to do that very thing.

And the thought of those hands on me had me flooded in a split second. If there was any doubt before that I’d leave a wet spot behind on his jeans at the end of this dance, there wasn’t going to be by the time it was over.

Anticipation and desire had my stomach coiled tightly. I wanted, more than anything, to be able to pick up with this back home… Behind closed doors. Just him and I.

But I knew that tonight was most likely just going to be an awkward little secret. Kept between two friends. And it bothered me, because I wanted so much more than that but I was afraid to cross lines and let myself have that… I doubted it was even an option anyway because I just didn’t think Juice even saw me like that.

Sure, we flirted now and then, but nothing ever came of it.

God, did I want it to.

This heavy tension seemed to settle in all around us and I picked up on it. Juice groaned quietly, and after he nearly broke the no touch rule again and very nearly reached out to grab hold of my ass and rock me against his thigh faster, I leaned in.. Pressed against him as I continued to grind against his leg and muttered against his ear, “Most guys put their arms behind their head… Til they’re used to not being allowed to touch.. They get verbal too…” my words hitching in my throat, rushing out over each other breathlessly.

He raised his hands, locking them behind his head. Sprawling back against the chair. It seemed to help ease the tension built in his body too, because I felt him sort of melting into the chair a little and I smiled.

“C’mon.. Tell me what you want me to do.” I coaxed, fixing my eyes on him and biting my lip when I immediately found myself getting sucked far too deep into his gaze.

“Touch yourself.” he muttered. Raising up a little. Leaning forward. “Touch yourself for me, baby girl… Like you were when you were dancin out front.”

I let my hands wander.

They were shaking slightly and I just hoped to God that it wasn’t noticed.

Juice took a few shaky breaths and bucked a little in the seat. “Come closer.. Get on my lap.”

I moved so that I was straddling his lap and the way his cock strained against his jeans and I tried to stop myself, but as I started to rock myself back and forth over it, I whimpered quietly. My breath caught in my throat a time or two and my heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to beat out of my chest.

“I normally don’t buy dances if I come here.” he muttered quietly, shattering through my own current internal struggle.

Knowing this relaxed me a little. It was obvious he didn’t just going off the way he acted, but.. I still wondered. Some guys like to pretend it’s their first lap dance because it gets them going.

I’m not here to judge anyone.

I mean.. I have a good paying day job as a legal assistant and here I am.. Dancing two nights a week whenever I can find a club to take me just so I have some form of release.. Just so I can feel intimacy that for whatever reason, I tend to deny myself in reality.

I almost asked him why, but I remembered what he told me out in the hallway about outbidding AJ because he knew the guy scared me. And I stopped myself, even though parts of me hoped there was more to it than that.

My hands moved over my chest and I rocked myself over him faster. My breath catching in my throat as I felt myself rushing straight into an orgasm I’d been trying like hell to hold back the whole time we’d been in the VIP room.

I could feel my body burning up under his gaze and he leaned in again. Muttered breathlessly against my ear, “If you’re nervous..”

“It’s fine.” I pretended to brush it off. I acted as chill about doing this for him as I possibly could.

“Turn away.. I wanna watch you movin from behind, baby girl.” he muttered. The request caught me by surprise a little, but I kind of realized that he was doing it more for me than for himself.

I did what he asked, turning in his lap so that I faced away. My eyes caught his in the reflection of the mirrored wall in front of us. As I started to rock my ass over his bulge, he growled quietly. Bucking himself up into me. Biting his lip as he did it three more times. Muttered in a lust filled daze “Fuck yeah, baby girl.. Work that ass.”

Just the way he said it had me dripping all over again.

“Faster.” he panted, bucking himself up into me all over again. Harder.

I tried not to, but I found myself imagining that he was taking me from behind. A fist full of my hair and my tits pressed right against the mirrored wall in front of us. And I rocked myself back and forth over his cock, pressing down even harder. Moving even faster. Almost close to a blinding orgasm.

“Fuck.” I swore quietly.

Juice sat up in the chair. Pressing his chest into my back. Muttering against my ear, “ Did you wanna dance for me like this?”

“Juice, I told you already.” my head fell back and my eyes fluttered open and shut. I squeezed my tits and rolled my hips faster. My breath came in short pants because I was so close to an orgasm that I was throbbing. He was leaning in again to whisper. “What I mean is if this wasn’t your job.. And it was just me and you… Would you wanna..” he rocked himself against me all over again. Harder. With more urgency as he swore under his breath and muttered that if I kept it up, he was going to come all over himself.

“ Turn around facin me.” he panted, his lips brushing against my ear and sending a shiver rushing through me. I turned back around in his lap to face him. Raising up a little. Teasing him by putting my tits at level with his mouth. Squeezing them together before lowering my hand. Toying with the waistband of my leather pants. Teasing him like I’d take them off.

“ Tease.” he pouted up at me.

“ That’s kind of what you’re paying me for right now, Juice.” I gave a soft laugh as I tucked a finger beneath his chin. Pulling his mouth dangerously close to mine. He licked his lips in anticipation and when he did, his tongue brushed right against my mouth. I whimpered helplessly.

And I just barely kept myself from exploding.

“You’re tensin up on me, Haze… Somethin wrong?” Juice asked quietly.

Looking at me as if he were bracing himself for something bad to be said.

By this point, I was so caught up in the moment, in the way it felt to grind myself against his cock and get out all these long denied urges to touch him to my hearts content.. It slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Honestly? I’m a breath away from coming and this never.. Ever… happens to me when I’m givin a private dance.” my words came in a breathless rush and as soon as I realized what I’d just said, I lost my groove for a second or two. Slowing down. Trying to pull myself together.

Hoping to God that I didn’t just make things awkward for him and I in the future because I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.

His mouth opened and closed and his hands gripped the arm rests again. Tighter.

“Do you know how hard it is for me? Feelin you dancin on my cock like this? Knowin I.. Knowin that this is probably as close as I’m ever gonna get? Fuck… If I were ever lucky enough to have you all to myself, baby girl...”

His words caught me by surprise. My heart fluttered a little and I swallowed hard. Going still in his lap just to stare at him.

The lights getting brighter and the music in the room going quiet had both of us jumping apart. I realized that probably meant my time in the room was done and before I could give myself a chance to back out, I slipped off his lap and held out my hand to him.

“ C’mon.”

He eyed my hand and took hold of it, standing. I practically drug him out of the room and then down the hall. Out the door and into the back lot behind the club. Once the door was shut behind us, I started to pace in front of him. Just trying to put it all together.

Torn between continuing to fight what I felt for him and caving in.

When he stepped in front of me and placed his hands on my upper arms, staring down into my eyes intently, something in me snapped and before I could stop myself, I had his back pressed against the door of the building. My hands caught his, holding them over his head as I rose up slightly and crashed my mouth against his mouth.

Devouring. Hungry.

At first, he didn’t really react. But when the shock cleared and he realized what I was doing, he came alive. I melted against him and he growled into my mouth, deepening the kiss. Teeth latching onto my bottom lip and tugging until I felt it starting to bruise. I let his hands go and they were all over me. Settling on my ass. Rocking me up against him and making me whimper and dig my fingers into his shoulders. I couldn’t melt into him any more if I tried. I was so exhausted from trying to hold back in more ways than one at this point that my filter was totally shot. I rocked myself against him clumsily, a begging and needy whine filling the space between our mouths as the kiss broke when I just couldn’t hold it back.

“Do you know why I almost got off giving you a lap dance? Do you know what you do to me, Juice? I.. I tried so hard not to fall for you and yet.. Here I am.”

He blinked in shock. For a few seconds we stared at each other, panting for our next breath. Neither of us saying a word.

Then he bent and scooped me up. Started to carry me towards the end of the alley where he’d parked his Dyna Glide.

I didn’t do or say anything to try to stop him. I didn’t want to.

I’m so tired of keeping him at arms length. I’m tired of fighting the way I feel.

He sat me on the back of his bike and I grabbed hold of the front of his vest, pulling him down. Pulling his mouth down against mine all over again because I just.. I was needy. I craved him on this level I couldn’t even begin to get my head around.

His bike came to a stop in front of his apartment building and he got off. Scooping me up all over again. Stopping just outside the doors leading into the building to grope and kiss me. Letting his lips stray down the side of my neck. Sucking a mark deep into my skin. I clung to him and begged breathlessly, “Juice, please..”

Neither of us was really stopping to think. I didn’t want to.

I wanted him.

More importantly, I wanted to be with him. And tonight just proved to me that I couldn’t fight it anymore.

The whole time he was trying to unlock his apartment door, he kept fumbling with the keys. Rutting right against me. Stopping to kiss or touch me. When he finally got it unlocked, he stepped through the door and stepped over to the couch. Tossing me down onto it gently. Following close behind. Pressing himself down into me and snapping his hips against mine, making me whimper. My whimper echoing off the walls of the quiet room. I reached down between us, tugging at the hem of his white t shirt and he rose up, pulling off his vest and tossing it at a chair nearby. Then pulling his shirt off and tossing it too. It settled on the floor in front of the chair. Then he was pulling me up. Tearing my bra away and tossing it out into the room. My hands lowered, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and he bit his lip. Gazing at me for a second or two with this look of lust and adoration in his eyes. Savoring the moment and what was about to happen.

Because it’s been building for a while, apparently. I just focused so damn hard on keeping myself from caving in and letting myself have what I wanted, with him, that somehow, I missed all the signs.

“Baby, c’mon.” I begged.

The term of endearment slipped out.

He gave me that little smirk. Rubbed his chin in thought as he let his eyes wander.

He worked his way down my body, using his body to part my legs. He worked my leather pants down my legs and I kicked them free at my ankles.

His fingers caught in the thin strap of my panties and they came away with a quiet tear. I tried to get him out of his pants again and he lowered my hands. Slipping off the sofa. I watched intently as he teased me, pouting about it. Begging.

I needed him buried inside me. Fucking me. Slow. Deep. All night long.

His pants fell to his ankles and he kicked off his boots and then kicked his pants free from his legs. When he dropped his boxers, I swallowed hard as my eyes settled on the way his cock stood at attention once it was free from fabric. He was pressing himself down into me all over again.

His mouth roaming over my tits. Tongue teasing my nipples as my back arched away from the sofa and I rocked myself against him. His free hand settled between us, circling his thick cock. Teasing it between my folds and making me shiver and cling to him. Try to rock myself against him urgently.

And then he buried his cock inside me. Shallow at first. Going still to let me adjust to him. I felt like I was being split in two and the feeling had me whining. Nipping at his chest, at any patch of skin I could get my mouth on just so I could muffle the way I wanted to scream his name at the top of my lungs.

I rocked into him clumsily and he growled quietly. His hands going down to my hips. Holding them still as he started to pound me harder. Deeper. So deep he couldn’t go any deeper. When he bottomed out, I dragged my nails down his back.

“Not yet, baby girl. C’mon, hold out just a little longer for me.” Juice coaxed breathlessly as his hips crashed against me with a bruising pace. I begged for release, on the verge of tears. The more I begged, the more he’d slow down. Stop to kiss me or leave marks on me. Torture.

Slow, steady and deep torture.

“You gonna moan my name when you cum?” he questioned, slamming his cock deep into my womb. Going still and capturing my mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. “ God. You’re so.” he panted, snapping his hips against mine, cock pistoning in and out of me with steady deep thrusts, “So fuckin wet I can barely stay in. Fuck. Shit. Shiiiit, baby girl. I wanna cum so bad.”

“Juice! Ah, -ah fuck. Right there.” my back arched away from the couch and my orgasm ripped through me, leaving me weak and dazed, clinging to him as I tried desperately to keep up with his pace, spent. Dripping. My walls vising his cock and clenched around it. Tears flooding my eyes because holy fuck, all I’ve wanted for the entire time was to finally be allowed to let go.

Juice stared down at me from above, a soft gaze. He caught a tear as it made a black trail down my cheek. Chuckling quietly. Going still to pepper kisses soft against my mouth and then trail them down the front of my throat. When he started to move again, he muttered against my lips softly, “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you. I’m right here.” as he pistoned in and out, the wet sloshing sounds accompanying each thrust he made seeming to make him move just a little faster. His hands were all over me and all I could really do was lie there, pinned beneath him. Whimpering his name as I tried to come down from the high. Stare up at him softly as my mind spun, replaying every single thing that led us here, to this exact moment.

“Oh fuck. Fuck baby girl. You want it?” his hips stammered, smashing against mine in a bruising pace and his words were swallowed by another hungry kiss and I nodded. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he did. Striking against my throbbing g-spot a time or two and growling, biting. Locking his lips against my neck and sucking yet another big,deep mark into soft flesh. The warmth of his release flooded me, making me whimper. Overfilling me, because I could feel the excess slowly leak down. Puddle beneath me on the sofa.. I bucked my hips against him greedily trying to take it all because I wanted it. I needed it. I craved him so badly I couldn’t have put it to words if I tried. He leaned into me heavily, panting for his next breath. Spent. A fine sheen of sweat gathered on our bodies. I grabbed hold of his face and pulled his mouth against mine. Our foreheads pressed together and he muttered quietly, “Mine?”

“Yours.” it shocked me when the word bubbled out. It shocked me because a, I was saying it and b, I meant it. With everything in me. As soon as I said it, he gave me a soft and lazy grin. Pressing his lips to my forehead. He collapsed onto the couch settling behind me. Pulling me on top of him.

Quiet little soft kisses. Caressing my face as he stared up at me and caught sight of one of the bigger marks he left on my throat, grimacing as he chuckled about it quietly.

“Fuck me. Baby, that was amazing...” I groaned out in a daze, making him laugh and gaze up at me. “Give me an hour, babe.” he teased…

“Careful. I might take you up on that.” I teased back, melting against his body. Letting his arms wrap around me and hold me tight.

[videomessiah]

Tagged by @spockvarietyhour

LAST SONG: Blancmange - Game Above My Head

LAST MOVIE: Mannequin. I completely forgot that James Spader was in it, so that was a pleasant surprise.

CURRENTLY READING: Dracul by Dacre Stoker and J.D. Barker. A prequel to Dracula. It’s pretty good.

CURRENTLY WATCHING: Various Star Trek reruns.

CURRENTLY WORKING ON: 3 gifsets at once.

CURRENTLY PLAYING: Red Dead Redemption 2. I spend all of my money on clothes so Arthur can be the dandiest outlaw in the land.

I will tag @neon-green-reagent, @alfredsnightmare, @salamiparatodos, @buzzsawbravado, @qteeclown, @boingo1994, @tajmahallow, @privatelife, @handful-ofdust, @thelittlefreakazoidthatcould and anybody else who might be bored.

[pixelatedrose]

Soulbound Part Five

First | Previous | Part 5 | Next

Ao3 link

Masterpost

Word count: 4,674

Pairings: platonic LAMP, Prinxiety, Logicality, background Remile

Warnings: Uncensored swearing, Implied self harm (skip starting from "so instead of trying to make it okay" to the break), fighting, talk of controlling parents, panicking, near panic attacks, crying, absent siblings, please tell me if i missed anything or if there's something you would like tagged!!

Summary:

Roman Prince and Logan Rose are soulmates. They’re platonic soulmates though. They both have the same Soul mark to prove it. But they both have one other soul mark, binding them to one other person. And when they find Patton Miles, it just so happens that they’re both his soulmate. Logan being his Soulbound Soulmate, and Roman being a platonic soulmate. But something feels missing. And it feels filled, shockingly so, when they meet a certain someone a year and a half after they found each other.

Chapter 5

  The next day at school was a trip for Roman Prince.

  The morning was as usual, and Roman had actually gotten sleep this time. And it was normal (save for his thoughts being preoccupied 65% of the time by a certain boy.) Until his third period with Virgil.

~~•~~

  Oooh!! He's cute! Roman thought walking into class before promptly scolding himself. No no! He has a soulmate! I'm sure of it! He doesn't want to be your friend. Roman warred with himself in his head. But he's still cute. You know you want to be friends with him. And even if he has a soulmate, that doesn't stop you from being his friend!

  Roman strut up to Virgil, who was curled up in a ball with his feet on the table, his hood up and his bangs obscuring his face and eyes. "Hello there J.D-lightful! How is my-"

  Virgil turned away from him. "Not in the mood, Princey." His voice was rough. Rougher than it had been the day before.

  Roman took another look at Virgil. And he really looked at him. His makeup was smeared and looked like it hadn't been washed off since the previous day, what he could see of his hair looked tangled and a mess. From underneath his messed up eyeshadow his pretty blue eyes looked dreary and tired and even a little red around the edges if you looked hard enough. The jacket and pants he was wearing were the same as yesterday and looked wrinkled as if he'd slept that way.

  Virgil looked like a mess.

  Roman sat down and felt an unreal amount of concern for the boy he'd met just a day ago. "Hey, are you doing alright? You don't look too hot there…"

  Virgil shook his head. "No…" He choked out. "But what's it to you anyway?"

  "Well, can't I be concerned for someone who looked like they got dragged out behind a car in the rain?" Roman chuckled slightly, trying to lighten the mood. He hated when people around him were hurting. He wanted to help. If he could, he would want to be the prince charming that saved everyone.

  Virgil chuckled lightly and Roman hid his smile. "Do I really look that bad?" 

  Roman shrugged his shoulders, smiling. "Creative freedom! I wouldn't say I'm above the occasional embellishment! But yes you look like shit, Virgil Sanders."

  Virgil laughed. He actually laughed! It was light and soft and no more than a chuckle, but it was bright with joy and it danced in Roman's ears.

  Roman was so distracted with the soft music of Virgil's laugh he missed his chance to say something before the joy faded from the pretty pale boy's face. "Sorry. It doesn't matter anyway." He huffed despondently.

  Roman perked up as an idea flooded his mind. "Hey why don't I help you fix your makeup and hair at lunch, yeah?" He asked sweetly and enthusiastically.

  Virgil's faced Roman and he saw that his face was flushed, and he was suddenly very concerned if he was running a fever as well and had to fight the urge to reach out and feel his forehead.

  What kind of train of thought was that?? Roman thought to himself.

  Virgil looked down and started playing with the edges of his sleeves. "I don't think that's a good idea, Princey."

  Roman smiled at the nickname. It was one he'd never heard before. He'd been called numerous names, many spread by rumors. Bastard. Prep. Player. Gay whore. Soulless. Homo bastard. Gay bitch. Slut. He'd always taken the names in stride when the moment came, but he knew what power names held. He knew how deep words could cut someone.

  He took a breath and responded. "Why not?"

~~•~~

  Virgil stopped. It was such a simple question. Why did it make his heart pound?

  Why not.

  That was a good question. Why didn't Virgil think it was a good idea?

  Because people will talk.

  Let them talk then.

  Because Roman has a Soulmate.

  But he can still be your friend.

  Because people will bully both of you.

  But then I'd have someone to stand with me.

  Because Roman is just pitying you.

  There it was. The reason it wasn't a good idea. Because it was borne out of pity.

  "Because I'm pitiful and I'm not so sure I'm the kind of person you want to hang out with." Virgil said with a fake laugh. Roman made a face when he laughed. It was a face that someone made when they smelled something rancid. As if listening to Virgil's fake laugh was like hearing what rotten fruit smelled like.

 "Well that's for me to decide and for you to find out how wrong you are about that!!" Roman laughed with such a charming twinkle of determination in his eye Virgil couldn't help but want to be his friend right in that moment.

  He huffed and hid his heated face in his sleeve. "Alright fine. I'll let you do my makeup during lunch, or whatever." He smiled but quickly turned it serious as he faced Roman. "But don't touch my hair. That's mine and I don't like people touching it."

  Virgil waited for the inevitable, 'But You said I can do it so I'm allowed to touch it' or 'Awh, but it would make me just so happy if you'd let me do it! And you don't want me sad, do you?' But instead all that came was, "Of course! If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll be more than happy to leave it alone, fair-faced!"

  What? That was new for Virgil. He was so used to his mother and other kids invading his space and ignoring him, he forgot that people could be better than that.

  Virgil hunkered down in his chair and the two chatted every few moments, Virgil dodging questions and making Roman carry the entire conversation. When Roman stopped talking to him though, Virgil grew anxious. Not of anything in particular, no it was more that Roman calmed him down when he was talking, so when he wasn't it was back to anxiety and worries that held no meaningl.

  The class ended and Roman asked what class he had next. Virgil told him distractedly and didn't connect the dots of why Roman would ask till he saw Roman waiting for him outside his classroom.

  "How did you get here so-"

  "Magic!" Roman interrupted. He held up a beat up hall pass.

  Virgil marveled at it. "How did you get ahold of one of these?"

  "Like I said, magic!"

  "You're a clueless moron."

  "I do suffer from Always Dumb and Hot Disorder, so I suppose you're right."

  "Wait what??"

  "Always Dumb and Hot Disorder! ADHD! I mean I am pretty hot."

  "Snrk, yeah sure Princey. Keep dreaming."

  "I'll have you know I'm made of 100% attractiveness and beauty!!"

  "Oh yeah? Does it say that on the tag? Right along with the price of $10.99?"

  "Oh how dare you put my price lower than the leftover makeup on your face!! I'm worth at least a whole 50 dollars! Per inch!!"

  "Per inch of what? Stupid? You know I could actually believe that one."

  "Well my Nightmare Oatmeal Raisin Cookie, I do believe I could make a fortune myself off the amount of snark you toss out of your mouth."

  "Only for you, Princey!"

  They arrived at the bathroom and Roman pulled out his own makeup supplies he kept on hand.

  It was a lot more vast than Virgil would have thought. Foundation, powder, eyeshadow in the full rainbow of colors (including a deep purple that caught Virgil's eye), eyeliner, and even some sparkly shit Virgil didn't know the name of. (Virgil had always seen it in stores but had opted for just calling it sparkly shit rather than learning it's name.)

  Roman handed him makeup wipes and instructed him to remove his mangled mess of makeup that was already on his pale face.

~~•~~

  As Virgil took off the layers of product on his face, Roman could finally see just how tired he was.

  The bags under his eyes looked very much like the eyeshadow he had been wearing previously and looking at his eyes a little closer, Roman could see they were bloodshot and all in all, it looked like the poor boy hadn't slept in days.

  Roman felt awful for him. There was an odd pang in his chest when he saw the shorter boy like that. What in the world was it about Virgil Sanders that so soundly struck Roman's heart?

~~•~~

  Virgil finished with his face and saw Roman ready with foundation and sponge.

  "Alright, Charlie Frown, ready for your makeover?"

  Virgil rolled his eyes and Roman stepped towards him. 

  In fact Roman came very close to Virgil.

  In fact by the time Roman stopped moving, there was hardly four inches between them.

  And very suddenly Virgil was not alright again.

  Roman had almost completely drowned all of Virgil's fears and hurts and anxieties that had been clustering around him like a dark stormcloud the entire day.

  Roman had made the fact that Virgil hadn't slept that night, instead opting to sit and sob violently while reading the five years his mother had hidden from him, okay. He had made him forget it. He had made it alright.

  Roman had calmed the constant whirlwind of anxiety that was usually so loud that Virgil wanted to throw up to a low buzzing hum that Virgil had finally been able to ignore.

  Roman had made him happy to be there.

  Roman had made him laugh.

  Roman had made him smile.

  Roman had made him forget the marks.

  Roman had made him forget his mistakes.

  Roman had made him forget what and who Virgil was.

  And now.

  Virgil had everything crash back down.

  Virgil backed away from Roman, pushing lightly against his chest. "W-wait I don't think we should do this anymore…"

  Had Virgil not been so lost in the storm of his anxieties, he would have seen the way disappointment and worry flashed vibrantly across Roman's eyes.

  Roman's smile dulled to a softly worried one. "Is everything okay?"

  For some unknown reason those three words made everything worse for Virgil.

  No!! No, nothing is okay!! Everything is wrong and bad and awful and I don't know what to do or where to go and there's no one I can talk to and I'm just so alone and scared and nothing will ever be okay!!!

  Virgil wanted to scream and cry and fall over and he wished he could float around endlessly in the void of space and just silently sob and he wished he had something to distract from the bottomless pit of anxious trembling he had fallen into.

  "I-I'm sorry- I just- I can't-!" Virgil stumbled around his words before he backed away and fled the bathroom. He ran upstairs and into a different bathroom where he locked himself in a stall and cried silently, letting the actions of yesterday wash over him once again.

  Nothing could be done to make it okay.

  Nothing would make anything okay.

  So instead of trying to make it okay, Virgil could at least distract himself.

  So he fished out a pencil from his backpack along with his sharpener.

~~•~~

  Roman watched in pain and dismay as Virgil backed away from him and ran out the door.

  Something was very wrong.

  And it hurt that Roman couldn't help.

  It hurt that he didn't know how to help.

  Roman tried to brush everything off as he started putting away his materials.

  There's something wrong that I'm missing here...Is he okay? Is he alright? Does he need my help? Does he want my help? I want to help him...why do I want to help him so badly?

  As Roman was exiting the bathroom, his wrist exploded into a stinging pain. He nearly dropped his backpack as he grabbed his wrist.

  He pulled back the sleeve of his jacket and found nothing there. Once again it had been nothing but phantom pain. They had been getting more frequent in the past few months.

  The bell rang and Roman walked to his 5th period class where he would spend the time with Patton talking about Virgil.

  "-and then he just...left." Roman said, finishing his account of his interaction.

  Patton nodded his head slowly. "Mm, mm, Logan was right wow. I can't believe it, if I'm being honest, but Logan totally called it."

  "Called what?" Roman asked hesitantly.

  "You are absolutely head over heels for this boy."

  Roman stared blankly at Patton. A red blush exploded onto his face and he waved his hands. "WHAT?!" He shook his head violently and laughed. "No no no, you got this all wrong, Padre! I am not head over heels for Virgil!"

  "Virgil?" Patton suddenly looked curious. "As in Virgil Sanders??"

  Roman looked at his friend, the heat from his face fading. "Yes? Who else??"

  Patton brightened up. "I have him my 2nd period!! You never mentioned his name before and now that you have well it's OBVIOUS who you're talking about!!"

  Roman couldn't help but feel happy. "Really? You know him?"

  Patton laughed. "No! We just have the same class together! That's all!"

  Roman deflated a little and the class carried onward.

  And for the first time ever, Roman was anxious about his theater class arriving.

  When it did eventually arrive, it was so much more dramatic than even the title "drama class" could capture.

  Roman walked into class, dreading to face Virgil.

  But instead of seeing the emo sulking or completely avoiding him, Roman walked onto the stage and was met face to face with Virgil Sanders.

  Literally.

  Roman had nearly ran into the pretty faced emo who was just a few steps away from the door.

  "Hey," Roman started, his hopes of becoming the emo's friend having died to nothing but a sickly burning coal. "Look, I don't know exactly what I did, but I'm really sorry all the same. And you don't have to try and be my friend or anything if you don't want to. I'm really sorry for-"

  Virgil started laughing. It was a louder laugh. It was just as beautiful and sweet as his softly golden chuckle, but this one sounded bright and silvery, it had a bite to it, the way that the cold bites longingly into your skin during wintertime. His laugh was wonderful and sweet and it sounded the way peppermint tasted.

  Roman caught himself up in his laugh before he snapped himself back to reality and found Virgil shaking off the last bit of his laugh and saw the emo smiling sweetly at Roman, his deep blue eyes sparkling with joy and…something harsher.

  "Why are you laughing?" Roman finally found himself asking.

  Virgil straightened himself and responded. "I just thought it was funny," He ran a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs out of his face before the fell over his eyes again. "I was coming to apologize to you for running off so suddenly." Virgil shuffled his feet and played with the edges of his sleeves. His laughing tone turned serious as he avoided Roman's eyes. "I'm really sorry for that. I had a lot on my mind and I freaked out. And if you don't want to be friends, I understand...But I…" Virgil met Roman's eyes before looking back down at the ground. "I wouldn't mind if we hung out a bit."

  Though Roman couldn't see his face, he could practically hear the shy smile that Virgil undoubtedly wore.

  Mr. Sanders walked onto the stage and nearly ran over the two boys who were standing so close to the door.

  "Gah!! Oh! So sorry there, boys!" Mr. Sanders caught Virgil's eye and quicker than needed, he left to center stage.

  Roman, just barely, caught Virgil's pained and distressed expression before the emo threw his hood up over his head, obscuring his face.

  "Alright class! Let's circle up!" Mr. Sanders called brightly.

  Virgil walked over, his hood up and his hands stuffed into his pockets. He stalked over to the edge of the circle, as far away from the young theater teacher as possible. Roman followed, only to have an oblivious and lonely Rose shove herself between Roman and his very near new friend.

  "Hey Ro, guess what?" Rose whispered.

  Roman rolled his eyes. "What?"

  "There's, like, a really cute girl over there!!" She pointed to a tall blonde girl with a shy face and dark bracelets. Another emo, this one a little more subtle than the boy a few feet away from him. "Please be my super cool wingman!" She begged jumping up and down.

  Roman heard Virgil snort from behind Rose. "I-"

  "Alright, class! Today we're going to continue with group juggling, but with a twist!" Mr. Sanders brought out a bag and took an orange tennis ball out. "It'll be just like last time, except we're going to have an order this time." He looked in the direction of Roman, but not at him. "Virgil!" He called to the boy with his hair in his face and tossed the orange ball to him.

  Virgil had not been ready for that. "What?" Virgil asked and only just barely saw the ball coming toward him. The panic was clear on his face as he struggled to catch the ball, eventually having it drop to the floor.

  "What the hell, Thomas!!" Virgil shouted. Roman watched as he saw something boil inside Virgil. "First, you show up in my life out of the blue-"

  "Virgil, now might not be the time to-"

  "Fuck the 'Right time,' Thomas!” Virgil yelled. There was something raw and hurt in his voice that went so much deeper than being unready to catch a ball. “I can't deal with this much longer!!"

  Roman looked between the two and Mr. Sanders caught his eye. "Roman can you-?"

  "Stop it! Stop trying to avoid the reality of things! You can’t just brush it off because it’s uncomfortable or you don’t fucking like it!” Virgil ran a distressed hand through his hair. It had seemed like he’d forgotten everyone was there.

  Mr. Sanders’ eyes darted between his students and Virgil. His eyes landed again on Roman and the tall boy caught his pleading gaze.

  Take the kids back to the classroom, so I can talk to Virgil? Mr. Sanders’ look was clear enough. At the very least, Roman knew to get the others out of the theater.

  “Listen, Virgil! I do want to talk about this! We need to talk about this!” Mr. Sanders said, Turning his full attention to Virgil as Roman started whispering to the kids, herding them off the stage.

  “Then why aren’t yo-”

  Virgil’s pained shouting was muffled almost entirely by the big metal doors the led off of stage left. Roman was almost glad that he couldn’t hear them anymore. Something about the way Virgil was yelling made Roman’s chest twist into a knot and his stomach churn.

  Roman turned around and leaned against the heavy doors, letting a small breath out. He could still hear muffled shouts coming from the stage, though he couldn’t make out any words.

  “Holy shit…” One girl said with a small laugh of disbelief. “Emo’s got some sort of real shit with teach, huh?”

  “Hey!” Rman caught himself shouting, a little louder than intended. He calmed his voice and started again, softer. “I don’t know what’s up between Sanders and Virgil, but whatever it is it should blow over soon!” Roman kept his voice happy and light, but against the door he could hear something being thrown. Maybe a chair by the sound of it. Roman took another small breath. “Let’s just all head over to the classroom. I know some theater games we can play while we wait for Mr. Sanders and Virgil to get back.”

  As they all walked over to the small black-box theater that they used as a theater classroom, Roman hung back a little, sparing one last glance at the doors to the stage before heading over with the rest of the class.

  What the hell kind of second day of school is this??

~~•~~

  Virgil had been dreading his theater class all day.

  Roman had somehow, miraculously, stopped Virgil’s ever racing heart for a few minutes.

  And it wasn’t his fault.

  Thomas’s, I mean.

  He had just been trying to get through the day and had subconsciously picked Virgil.

  It was, however, Virgil’s fault that he had exploded. Maybe it wasn’t 100% his fault, as anxiety, nerves, and the pent up emotions of an anxious and nervous person do play a role in the doom of all things socially acceptable, but it was still his fault at the end of the day.

  And so here they were.

  Screaming.

  Or at least Virgil was cause goddammit he couldn’t take it anymore.

  All the hurt, all the betrayal, everything he had ever wanted that had been stolen from him, everything he had stuffed into little jars in his mind, all of it exploded.

  Right then.

  Right there.

  And by god did it hurt.

  It hurt so badly.

  It stung in his chest and burned in his throat and pricked at his eyes and pounded in his head and clawed at his lungs.

  And it hadn’t been right for Virgil to blame Thomas.

  But he had.

  “Then why aren’t you talking about it?!” Virgil screamed.

  "Because in the middle of my class is not the right time or place, Virgil!! Take into consideration the other kids!!" Thomas raised his voice for the first time.

  Virgil was upset. More than he thought he'd be. He turned to a chair and kicked it hard, sending it bouncing a few feet away.

  Thomas's tone calmed again, but it was still shaky with emotion. "Virgil you need to calm down, okay-?"

  "No, dammit!!" Virgil shouted, tears pricking his eyes causing him to panic even more. "I'm sick and tired of people telling me to calm down because they don't want to deal with me!!" He ran a hand through his hair, his breath was shallow and hard. He caught Thomas's eyes and read pain, panic, and above them, regret. It hurt. If Thomas was like Virgil had thought he'd be, if Thomas had been cruel and spiteful, if he hated Virgil, it would have been easy.

  But Thomas cared.

  And that hurt so much more.

  "Why didn't you-" why didn't you come and find me? "Why wasn't I-" why wasn't I good enough for mom to let me read those letters? "Why couldn't I-" why couldn't I have lived with my brother in my life?!

  Virgil could no longer stand as his legs gave out beneath him. The weight of everything in his mind had seemed to crush him.

  It was awful.

  It was bitter.

  It made him nauseous.

  Virgil sat crumpled on the ground and as his emotions raged inside him, he started to cry.

  Virgil felt a hand on his shoulder and didn’t need to spare the glance at Thomas to know who it was. All he had to do was lean into him and let his older brother wrap his arms around him in a soft, comforting hug that smelled faintly of butterscotch and cinnamon. Virgil buried his face in Thomas’s shoulder and fought sobs.

  This is what he missed out on.

  This is what he never had.

  This is what he wanted.

  An older brother who cared about him.

  And Thomas? He had only really known him for two days, barely. And yet he cared more for Virgil than anything Virgil had felt before then.

  He felt for the first time ever that he belonged.

  Thomas and Virgil sat there on the stage floor for a while longer, Thomas holding his younger brother in his arms and stroking his hair, Virgil sitting in his older brother’s arms and crying softly, slowly calming himself down.

  When Virgil finally calmed down enough, Thomas unwrapped himself from around Virgil. “Alright. Feel better?” Virgil nodded and Thomas continued. “Now then. We  have some things to talk about, I think.”

  Vigil nodded again and the two stood up, walking to the edge of the stage apron and sitting down, letting their feet dangle over the edge.

  “So,” Thomas started, looking out over the empty audience. “Are you okay, first of all, and second, do you want to talk about mom? Or would you rather talk about me and the letters first?”

  Virgil took a shaky breath. “I’m alright. And I think I’d rather talk about...Mom...First…” Virgil was reluctant to admit there was anything at all wrong with his home life, but deep, way deep in the cold dark basements of his mind, the place where all the painful truths hide themselves, he knew that there was.

  Thomas broke the silence. “Does she hide stuff from you often?”

  Virgil nodded. “She removed the lock on my door when I was eight, too. I have this wooden doorstop that I created as a makeshift lock, but I can’t lock my door when I’m away at school.” Virgil looked at his brother. “Did she do stuff like that to you?” He asked tentatively.

  “Yeah.” Thomas said, lowering himself down onto his back and string up at the electrics that were hidden by the proscenium. “She’d read my journals and all the old angsty poems I wrote. She would drink and smoke all the time too.”

  “Virgil nodded sadly, lowering himself down next to his brother. “I mean she’s not all that bad. She cares about me, and feeds me, and makes sure there’s a roof over our head…”

  “Despite that, that doesn’t necessarily make her a good person. She still doesn’t have any right to do what she did to you. If you hadn’t been her kid, she could be arrested for mail theft.” Thomas looked at his brother with a kind of protectiveness that only family harbors for one another. “The question I really need to ask you, Virgil, is this; Do you feel safe and happy at home?”

  Virgil opened his mouth to answer yes, but found he couldn’t do it. His mother would drink most nights and smoke often. She’d come home with someone new as her date every two weeks. She would make him do most things downstairs where she could see him and if he wasn’t within direct eyeshot, would be checking in on him every ten minutes it seemed. He didn’t feel in danger, but he didn’t feel safe. And he didn’t feel unhappy, but he didn’t have very many happy memories of the house with the strange yellow door either.

  Virgil shook his head. “No…” He choked out.

  Thomas sat up. “I have a proposition for you, then.” Virgil sat up too. “For the time being, until you graduate, you’re free to come by and visit me, or spend the night whenever you’d like. Unannounced or otherwise.”

  Virgil found himself lighting up at the prospect of being able to live with or at least visit his brother on a regular basis. He felt his face darken with doubt soon after though. “Really? For real? You’re not playing me here?”

  Thomas looked at Virgil with a serious expression. “Virgil, I want you to be safe and happy, and I’ve wanted to be in your life from the very first moment I knew you existed. When I say you can come over whenever you’d like, I mean it.” Thomas pulled Virgil into a quick tight hug before continuing. “I want whatever’s best for you, and only you know that. I just want to make sure you have somewhere you can go to feel safe and happy.”

  Virgil nodded. “I think…” He started, his mind whirling with possibilities and opportunities. “I think I’d like to come over and talk about the letters later today, Thomas.”

  Thomas smiled. “I think that’s a splendid idea, Virgil.”

Author’s note: Hey, Hi so uh...If any of you remember I said like half a week ago this would be out in a few days...So...Sorry about that. The chapter ended up being a tad bit longer than I thought it was going to be and I lost a lot of motivation for a day or two in there. I’m glad it’s at least on time though, and not late. Ideally it would have been early, like I’d said it would be, but what can ya do? Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoy this extra long chapter! Thanks again for reading it all!! love ya!

Tag list:

@anxietea-and-insanitea

@ghostboi-bambi

@scrunchiescrunchie

@badluckkaren

@ambrechandra

@nadja-chamack16

@athenashipsthings

@slitherynchiken

@crooked-harmony-student

@icequeenoriginal

@just-a-hufflepuff

[there-is-no-barrier-between-us]

thanks to @you-are-constance​ for tagging me!!!

nickname: i hate all nicknames; i told my friend i hate being called vicky and now she ironically calls me “thiccy”

zodiac: pisces

height: 5′5″

hogwarts house: ravenclaw

last thing i googled: “stage lighting types” because i forgot the name of lighting that is in the world of the play (as in lamp vs. spotlight, and the google was unsuccessful so hit up my ask box if you know)

song stuck in my head: wait for me (hadestown)

number of followers: 642

amount i sleep: 8 hours a night

lucky number: 13 (my number when i played lacrosse!)

dream job: i want to be a prosecutor at the manhattan DA’s office

wearing: denim shorts and a crop top

favorite song: this is an impossible question, but too much too soon ALWAYS hypes me up

favorite instrument: piano (it’s the one i know the best)

aesthetic: all academia, in an ideal world dark academia

favorite author: i have no idea but i’ll say j.d. salinger cause he wrote catcher

favorite animal noise: birds chirping in the morning

random: currently playing helena in a production of midsummer night’s dream!

tagged: @theastronomer @galile-yo @yoghurtandblackberries @highland-calf

[saymynamewithluv]

i forgot to add my tag to that message too. my memory is not good today lol - 📒 {j.d.}

No no it's ok angel and I forget things easily too

[writing-and-teatime]

Loneliness and Lies: Three

A Sanders Sides fan fic.

Blurb: Virgil has always been alone and he believes he always will, but when he meets people he can’t ignore Virgil makes a mistake he can never take back.

Type: Angst, Drama, Highschool AU

Triggers: Angst, drunkenness, rudeness, abuse, lying, Deceit 

(If I forgot anything please tell me)

———————————

      Nobody noticed anything wrong. Virgil was relieved, but sometimes he wished someone would just notice. As Virgil walked past the auditorium on his way home he heard singing, the play practice that was going on. He opened the door and slipped inside, sitting in the very back row where there was barely any light. He saw the third boy from the table in the middle of the stage, singing his heart out to Heathers. Virgil watched in amazement as the boy hit every note perfectly, though something was missing.

       “You need more emotion,” said the director, Mr. Emile, “you need to show J.D.’s anger and longing in this song.” He made gestures with his hands that didn’t really make sense, but the boy seemed to get them. He and the band started again, and again, until it was perfect. When the rehearsal ended Virgil decided it was probably time to go back to his house, his mother would be waiting for alcohol. As he left he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

       “Hi!” Said the boy. He was broad shouldered, with reddish-brown hair and bronze skin and brown eyes. “I saw you in the back. How did I sound?” The boy was clearly trying to make some friendly conversation but Virgil wasn’t into it.

       “You lacked the emotion needed for that song.” Virgil had expected the boy to be sad and simply leave, instead his smile didn’t falter.

      “What should I do to get the emotion?” He urged. Virgil passed for a moment.

      “Punch stuff? Think about whatever makes you angry? I don’t know.” Virgil turned to leave again and the boy walked beside him.

      “I’m Roman.” He introduced himself, Virgil didn’t shake his hand.

      “Remus’s brother, right?” Virgil asked. Roman sighed and nodded.

      “He’s a handful,” Roman sounded exasperated, “but he's family. Come on, I'll walk you home.” The two began walking, but as they got closer to Virgil's neighborhood, he realized that he didn't want Roman to see it. The broken down shops, the drug addicts, he didn't want Roman to see as he bought beer for his mother.

      “This is it.” Virgil said. He stopped in front of a nice looking house that belonged to a nice family, Dee was their son. He began walking up the drive, but Roman didnt move. As he got to the door he subtly knocked, so the Roman wouldn't see, and the door swung open.

       “Sup,” Said Dee, “what do you want.”

      “I don't want Roman to see where I live. He’ll call CPS on my mother.” Dee nodded in understanding and swung open the door for Virgil to enter. Then he called out to Roman.

      “Hi, i’m Dee. I’m his brother.” Virgil raised his eyebrows in surprise as Dee closed the door.

       “Brother?” Dee shrugged.

      “It’ll solidify your story.” Virgil had forgotten what a good liar Dee was. He waited with Dee as Roman walkled out of sight. The he opened the door to leave.

      “Thanks, Dee.” The boy smiled slyly.

      “Anything for a friend.” That sent a shiver down Virgil's spine. He left as quickly as he could.

                                  …

       “You’re late again.” His mom said. She seemed to be sober enough to not slur her words.

      “I could have come home earlier, if you want CPS to come?” His mother grumbled and dropped the subject, taking the beer in his hands and popping the top off one of the bottles. As she slurped the beer some of it dribbled down her chin and plashed splattered onto the moldy carpet. She offered him a beer and he declined.

      “Since when do you not drink beer?” She asked him. He rolled his eyes.

      “I have school tomorrow, Mom.” He growled at her. Her eyes suddenly flared with anger.

      “Don’t take that tone with me, boy.” She slapped him. Virgil didn't even bother answering, he just went to his room to wait for whatever happened the next day. His phone buzzed, a text from Dee.

      You owe me, Virgil.

      Virgil knew that it was true, and that Dee was gonna collect one day.

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Tag list (Just message me if you’d like to be added):

@bunny222

[laskovey]

Rules: Tag Nine People You Want to Know Better

Tagged by @weytani (thank you so much!) and @robronchristmas (I just remembered you tagged me in this a long time ago and I forgot to do this, I’m so sorry!)

Relationship status: Single, mooning over a crush as always Favourite Colour: Grey, dusty rose, turquoise Lipstick or Chapstick: Chapstick or lip balm Last Song I Listened to: Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division Last Movie I Watched: L'Amant Double Top 3 TV Shows: Twin Peaks, Skins, Fringe Top 3 Characters: Rae Earl (My Mad Fat Diary), Sana Bakkoush (Skam), Laura Palmer (Twin Peaks) Top 3 Bands/Artists: Phantogram, Arcade Fire, The Vaccines Books I’m Currently Reading: Arch of Triumph by Erich Maria Remarque, recently finished  The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger and Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell

Tagging (no pressure, you’re free not to do this if you don’t feel like it): @emilybrontay @prestonspetals @to--be----continued @helenhuntingdon @jacosh @amandaj718

[kinetic-elaboration]

10 Facts

Ages ago (by which I mean I like 2 weeks ago but that’s ages on tumblr), I was tagged by @acourtofhopeanddreams to write ten facts about myself and tag ten people. I didn’t have time to do it just then, so I thought I’d do it the next day, and then I forgot and anyway here we are. Better late than never.

I am American but my mother is Polish, which puts me in the semi-unusual position of being, on my paternal side, descended from Pilgrims, and on my maternal side, first-generation American. I’m super proud of my Polish heritage and am always trying to get more connected to the history/language/culture of that side of my family.

I’m the youngest person in my generation in my family. On my dad’s side, I’m one of eight (I have six cousins and a half-sister); with the exception of one cousin, who is 2 years older, everyone is at least 6 years older than I am.

I’m Out and Proud on tumblr but closeted in almost every other area of my life. My college friends and acquaintances pretty much all know I’m bi, or at least not straight, because I dated a girl in college, but I’ve only talked about my sexuality in depth with maybe 3 of them. None of my family or my co-workers know.

I don’t miss being in school (having a salary is pretty nice!!), but I did love being a student, especially an undergraduate. I have a BA in English and French, and a J.D. I would never do law school again lol, but if I had infinite money I’d probably be a professional college student.

I especially love (surprise surprise) literature and foreign languages. I’ve studied French (obviously), Latin, Russian, and Polish. Russian is my favorite.

I’m afraid of dogs. I only know one other person with this fear.

I’ve lived in New York State (the Adirondacks), West Virginia, New York again (Hudson Valley), and Virginia. I also spent 6 months in Europe, which...kinda counts?? as living there??

Sometimes my undergrad friends and I plan out communal living scenarios. I’m very invested in this idea but would need some secure place to myself because I’m a Grade A Introvert and too much time in the presence of other people gives me hives.

I can knit, and I’m actually pretty good at it. But I don’t do anything fancy because I like it as a way to keep my hands busy when I’m doing other stuff like reading or watching TV. So I mostly make blankets and scarves. (If you ever need a blanket hmu lol; I have too many.)

I went to Catholic school. Twice, actually, grades K-5 and then, after I moved, grades 8-12.

So that was fun! Um, not-so-secret fact #11, I’m shy, and even though I’m working on it, I still don’t really know who to tag so if you’d like to talk about yourself, you’re tagged!

[rosevalntne-blog]

tagged by @the-small-weird-loves and also @fliesintheattic ages ago but i forgot

🌿 name: casey rose

🌿nickname: rose, rosie, rooskie

🌿birth month: february

🌿height: 5′6″

🌿ethnicity: irish, faery

🌿orientation: girls & nb people, whatever u call that

🌿favorite fruit: raspberry

🌿favorite season: autumn

🌿favorite books:

madness & wasted // marya hornbacher

the asylum for wayward victorian girls // emilie autumn

girl, interrupted // susanna kaysen

the bell jar, the complete works of sylvia plath

the complete works of anne sexton

hamlet, romeo & juliet, twelfth night, othello // shakespeare

the catcher in the rye // j.d. salinger

alice’s adventures in wonderland & through the looking glass // lewis carroll

peter pan // j.m. barrie

🌿favorite flowers: amaranth, baby’s breath (rosemary, but that’s an herb)

🌿favorite scent: fennel, petrichor, blown out candles

🌿favorite animals: corvids, ratties, cats

🌿favorite beverages: raspberry tea & diet coke

🌿hours of sleep: 0-15, depending on the episode and the med cocktail

🌿favorite fictional characters:

holden caulfield from the catcher in the rye

hamlet & ophelia from hamlet

tinkerbell from peter pan

effy stonem and cassie ainsworth from skins

🌿number of blankets you sleep with: one comforter and 0-3 smaller blankets depending on the temperature

🌿dream trip: skipping town with no word, heading across the country to seattle or portland and picking up some friends along the way, living in a cheap motel and just enough money to get by, starting a part time job and calling myself rose valentine, maybe dying along the way who the fuck knows

🌿number of followers: 155

[oyasumioyasumioyasumi]

Tag Game!! owo

 ik I do enough of thessse

I was tagged by @gettinprowly​ !!! thank you!! <3

Rules: Answer all the questions, add one of your own and tag as many people as there are questions.

1. Coke or pepsi? uhh,, I don’t like either!! 

2. Disney or Dreamworks? Dreamworks gave me Voltron.

3. Coffee or tea? Coffee,, 

4. Books or movies? BOOKS

5. Windows or Mac? Mac, however I use a Windows computer because it has a bigger extent of abilities.

6. DC or Marvel? superheroes aren’t my cup of tea but Marvel.

7. Xbox or Playstation? Xboxxxxx

8. Dragon Age or Mass Effect? Mass Effect

9. Night owl or early riser? both

10. Cards or chess? cards im rlly good

11. Chocolate or vanilla? Vanillaaa

12. Vans or converse? Vans bc I’m “Off the wall” but I envy Converse qwq

13.  Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash or Adaar? Trevelyan

14. Fluff or angst? FLuff

15. Beach or forest? BEACH

16. Dogs or cats? D O G S

17. Clear skies or rain? rain is nice to sleep to

18. Cooking or eating out? eating out bc there’s good shrimp out there

19. Spicy food or mild food? spicy like my memes

20. Halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas? HALLOWEEEN

21. Would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot? little too cold

22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be? voice modification 

23. Animation or live action? Animation

24. Paragon or renegade? renegaaade

25. Baths or showers? Showers

26. Team cap or team ironman? TEAM CAP

27. Fantasy or sci-fi? Sci-Fi for sureee

28. Do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so, what are they?

“Years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute”

-Edgar Allan Poe

“I don’t know why I was thinking about that, but it made a lot of sense right then that the stars glow so brightly in their instant of death,...”

- Extraordinary Means, Robyn Schneider

“Eimerich smiled when he saw Arnaru reacting to his own sorry state.”

- Cathedral of the Sea, Ildefonso Falcones

29. Youtube or netflix? NETLFIX HAS VOLTRON U FEEL

30. Harry potter or percy jackson? Harry Potter

31. When do you feel accomplished? When my end goal is reached.

32. Star wars or star trek? Star Trek

33. Paperback or hardback books? Hardcover

34. Horror or rom-com? Horror

35. Tv shows or movies? TV Shows

36. Favourite animal? Grizzly Bears

37. Favourite genres of music? Country, Pop Latino, K-Pop

38. Least favourite book? Devoted in Death, J.D. Robb

39. Favourite season? Spring

40. Song that’s currently stuck in your head? Shape of Cheap Thrills (Shape of You x Cheap Thrills) By Ashe

41. What kind of pyjama’s do you wear? Boxers and a T-shirt

42. How many existential crises do you have on an average day? Like six

43. If you can only choose one song to be played at your funeral, what would it be? Someone better play Gasolina by Daddy Yankee when I die, or Music Sounds Better With U by Big Time Rush

44. Favourite theme song to a TV show? Drake and Josh

45. Harry potter movies or books? Ok I own all of them but Prisoner of Azkaban was rlly good

46. You can make your OTP become canon but you’ll forget that tumblr exists. will you do it? hell no

47. Do you play an instrument and if so, what is it? I used to play cello, and it’s stuck with me

48. What is the worst way to die? betrayal, like you’re sold off to the mafia or somethin

49. If you could be entirely invisible for a day, what would you do? Scare the fuck outta everyone

50. What are you planning on doing with your life? I wanted to become an Architect, but the politics are too much rn

51. Favorite Disney movie? Cars 2?

52. Do you believe in aliens? yes

53. Are u an unstoppable force or an immovable object? Unstoppable Force

54. If you could go on a road trip right now (without worrying about Adult Responsibilities), where would you go? Lisbon to Tallinn, visiting all of Europe’s capitals

55. If you could live a successful life or make one person happy, what would you choose? I would like to make one person eternally happy, and that so happens to be my ex?? Like I feel like they deserve it.

56. If you could be blessed with ONE talent (Art, Football, etc.) what would it be? i answer my own questions shut up , but dancing

rip do if u want bbs