#The perks of having two brains ig

[gayest-squrrel]

Sprunki au where everything is absolutely fine :)

[jellyfishoreo1206]

Comfort (Gavril)

This will be a series w/ all the Bubo characters (Gavril, Angelo, Nostre, Daniel, Aku, maybe Tooth too) Love it when my brain comes up with ideas when I have several other WIP's to do

I was crying earlier and my brain in the middle of it went, "but what if the Bubo Characters were here."

WARNINGS: EMOTIONAL, CRYING, CUSSING, OVERALL BAD BAD DAY, ANGST IG??? I HAVE NO IDEA THERE WILL BE LOOTS OF FLUFF THO

Gender-Neutral Reader

----

You felt like crying, screaming.

Everything was shit, every single hour that went by, every single minute, every single second felt long and torturous. Your body felt heavy, head heavy as it pounded with a throbbing headache against your skull, vision blurry.

Why did today of all days in the year have to be so shitty? You woke up late for work, got coffee all over your work clothes and didn't have a spare, got chewed out by your boss because how you forgot to do something yesterday and how you were "representing" the workplace, didn't eat lunch because you forgot to bring your wallet, and so many other things that made you want to wallow into the ground and forget about everything.

Anger, misery, sadness, irritation, annoyance, depression.

You want to cry so bad, you want to break something. Throw something. Anything.

But the moment you walked through your door, the dams broke. Sliding down to the floor, you cried your heart out, you cried out to no one as the bitter tears spilled down your face, dropping onto the floor. It felt pathetic, on your arms and knees just because nothing went right today, nothing went how was suppose to, crying out everything you had to the shadows around you. Wailing out to only the silence that surrounded you.

But it couldn't be helped, keeping every single thing bottled up over the last few months, constantly filling up the cup. This was eventually bound to happen. It was only a matter of time before the water spilled over the edge.

It felt like hours hunched over on the floor, a puddle of tears forming as your wails soon turned to soft hiccups and quiet sniffling. Your throat hurt from all the wailing, nose filled to the brim with runny snot, vision blurred and puffy from the tears with more coming, your limbs going numb from how long they were on the ground. Yet you didn't want to get up, you didn't have the energy to do so.

You stayed there for a few minutes longer taking several deep breaths, building up your energy, before slowly standing up from that position. Your joints popped as you started moving, relieved to be moving again.

You felt disconnected from the world, everything around you seemed to have been numbed down. You felt bland, empty. Every limb in your body felt heavier than before, mind becoming foggy the longer you stood there staring off into space. Your brain went on autopilot, searching for a place to rest, which was the couch.

The fog felt like a long-awaited hug, a hug that feels like it's enveloping your entire body, a hug without warmth. It's just, there...

Curling up on yourself, you laid there wide awake as not even an ounce of sleep crept into your mind as the hours ticked by, you didn't even bother checking the time. Didn't bother getting up.

It was just so easy to just stay there, not worry about anything else, in the moment. Letting the clouds fog your mind as you let your body relax into the cushions.

After what was probably two hours, you hear the familiar sound of footsteps upstairs, creaking against the old floorboards. You didn't even bother panicking about who it was, you didn't feel ready to come out of the comforting fog yet. The footsteps went down the stairs, right next to the couch, yet you didn't feel an ounce of fear go through you. Heartbeat as calm as it could be, beating against your ribcage in a calming manner. Whoever it was can do what they want, you don't even have a care to give.

"Y/N?" You perked up a bit, eyes glancing up at the person looking over from the stairs. It was Gavril, hood still on as his eerily bright eyes shined through the dark. It still scares you how bright his eyes are in the dark, staring at your form unblinking, intensely. Like a kind of cat of sorts. Maybe a perk from the goo. He quickly descends the rest of the stairs, pulling off his hood to reveal his dark curly hair.

You didn't move, just letting a sigh pass your lips as you stared off again. You should've been more excited that Gavril was here, it's been 3 months since you last saw him in person. But you literally cried everything out hours ago, your brain to exhausted to make a reaction. Gavril approaches closer, to where he's hovering over the couch. He seemed.., concerned about you. His brows were furrowed as he had a slight frown on his face. It doesn't seem like he knows how to act whenever someone is like this. He slowly reached out a hand, brushing some of the hairs out of the way that have fallen over your face in a gentle manner.

For a couple of minutes, that's all he does, over and over. Eventually he sits right next to you on the couch, your head in his lap as he gently combs his fingers through your hair.

It feels nice, to be right against him as his touch left a certain type of warmth in your nerves, filling your mind with a good emotion you can't quite put a name to. Eyes fluttering close, you enjoy the gesture, further relaxing your body into his as he continues the gesture. The events of today slowly melting from your mind as the seconds pass.

When his hand was about to pull away, your own grabbed at his wrist, refusing for the affection to be over so soon. "Not yet.." Your voice is hoarse, from your lack of words in the past hours and from the crying. Gavril hasn't said anything, he doesn't point out how you sound, all he does is cup your face in a comforting manner. Exhaustion hits your body like a train, as your mind slowly fades in and out from consciousness, not processing anything around you as you let yourself go.

"I'll be here in the morning.."

...

How did you end up in your bed?

Groggily, you looked around. Yeah you're definitely in your room. Couldn't tell the time though, it was cloudy outside and made the whole room darker, can't tell if it was early morning or the afternoon. You don't remember making the walk upstairs last night, all you remember was curling up on your couch and..

Gavril.

"Fuck, Gavril!" Quickly getting out of bed, and nearly face-planting into the wall, you scrambled out of the room and downstairs to see if he was still here. To see if he actually stayed.

After finally taking the last step, you hear a soft humming from the living room. Glancing over to your right, and there he was, patiently sitting there with something in hand. A old rubix cube you were meant to solve. His coat was discarded, some rips and tears in it, folded neatly on the couch arm as he kept twisting and turning the cube. Didn't seem like he wanted to figure it out, just needed something to busy his mind and hands. Fucking shit, you missed him so badly..

Coming up right behind the couch, you wrap your arms around him, smushing your face into his hair. Which probably wasn't a good idea since he didn't take a shower but you brushed off his smell, only seeking his touch. You felt him jump a bit beneath you from the surprise embrace, but quickly relax as he realized it was only you, returning the gesture as best as he could.

"Hey dear," He coos, drawing patterns into your arm after placing the cube down, "Good to see you better."

"It's good to see you again."

"Yeah? Did you miss me that much?"

"Obviously I would.."

Your hand came up to his hair, playing with the curly ends of them. He seemed to enjoy it, letting out a small hum. A comfortable silence falls over you two, only the quiet breathing of you and Gavril's filling the air.

"Do you...want to talk about last night?" He sounded hesitant when whispering out the question, he seemed unsure in what he was doing. You found it sweet of him that he wanted to make sure you were okay though.

You mulled over the question in your head, thinking it again and again. Do you want to talk about it? I mean, you cried your heart and soul out last night so it should be fine, right? But there's the chance that might make Gavril uncomfortable. He was asking, but there's the benefit of doubt.

"..Just a bad day was all."

"Mm..." He stays quiet for a few moments, thinking something over, "Who do I have to kill?" He attempts what you think is a joke, but you can't tell whether he is actually serious or just trying to cheer you up in some weird way. Eh, he's your weirdo anyway.

"Don't. I love you Gav, but I swear to God do not kill someone just because they made me sad," Pulling your face out of his hair, you lean down to plant a small kiss on his cheek, "unless I ask you too." A cheeky smile makes its way onto your face, jumping over the couch just to sit right beside him. Looking at his face, it seemed to be flushed, a slight look of embarrassment on his face as a wobbly smile takes place. His adorableness just seems to intensity whenever he's flustered, you don't know why but it just makes you fall harder for him.

"Did you eat anything?"

"I, uhm..no not really?"

"You ate everything in the fridge again, didn't you?" His gaze averted to the side as he lets out a nervous chuckle. Letting out a sigh of slight disappointment, you slump onto him, closing your eyes. "'s fine, I needed an excuse to go shopping anyway.." You can't blame him, to be honest. He must've been starving and food must've been scarce. You're surprised he isn't dead yet, or in jail.

"Is it alright if I come?" Thinking it over in your mind, you think of the pros and cons of him coming along.

"..Sure." He's probably going to tag along either way, no matter which answer you chose. But that's fine, you love your skrunckly little rat man either way.

You just hoped he wouldn't try and steal a wheel of cheese, again.

[haklcv]

good things should be experienced twice.

jaehyun x fem!reader, idol au, fluff, 1.7k

SYNOPSIS. you wake up on a sunny, saturday morning all alone. not knowing your idol boyfriend had a schedule that day, you find yourself driving to his building to gift his band lunch during morning practice and again in the evening with a free trip back home. WARNING/S. we love kissing jaehyun. food gets dropped to the ground but not really. I ACCIDENTALLY MAKE A SEXUAL INNUENDO I’M SORRY. did i mention we love kissing jaehyun? AUTHOR’S NOTE. yuh first post here i come ig. this has been sitting in my drafts for forever and i finally moved my lazy ass to post it. its also way shorter than i wanted it to be but i couldn’t think of any other way to finish it so there you go. stan jaehyun, stan tbz.

It was a bright, sunny Saturday morning. You wake up with sunshine barely pouring in through your curtains, stretching and moving to lay on your side, only to find out that you're alone in bed. The emptiness gets you to sit up, barely awake as you hear your ringtone blare throughout the room.

Lazily picking up the phone, you quickly glance at the caller I.D. before accepting it. "Good morning, my love." You ease up as the familiar voice reaches your ears, sinking back into your bed as a small smile fills your face. "You left without telling me." You languidly whine. "I woke up to a cold bed, Jaehyun."

His short chuckles could be heard from the other end of the line. "I'm sorry. I was running late and I kinda forgot to inform my managers I was staying at your place." Although far apart, you could feel the sheepish smile on his face just from the tone of voice he was giving. You sigh before sitting up once again. "I could've drove you myself."

"I don't think you would've woken up. We were up pretty late last night." She checks the time at this, gasping softly as Jaehyun asks her what happened on the other end. "It's 7 in the morning, Jae. We didn't go to sleep until like 4 because of the movies. I'm sorry." Guilt rushes through you. After all, the movie was you idea.

"Are you really tired? Did you get any sleep at all?" Jaehyun hums through the phone.

You two stayed on the line, comfortable silence passing through. And while Jaehyun might've just been happily sitting on one end of the phone call, waiting to start practicing again, you were sat on the other desperately racking your brain for ideas on how you could make up his lack of sleep for him.

"Jae, when do your guys' schedule start?" You ask, the male perking up at the sudden question. "Not until 2. We're just practicing for now."

A smile lifts your face. "Great. I'll stop by at 11 to hand you guys some lunch, alright?"

"Seriously? Thanks, love," Jaehyun replies. You smile in response as she could hear him inform his bandmates through the call. After the information sunk into their heads, they seem to have all thought the same thing which was to rush to the phone and continuosly thank you and say how awesome you were.

"Alright. I'll be there by 11."

—

You were indeed there by 11. With exactly 3 minutes to spare, you  stopped in front of the familiar practice room door before the mental warefare started playing in your head.

Here's the thing, you and Jaehyun always had this thing ever since you started dating where you can't, by any means, have a comeback spoiled toyou, and by all means, should wait for Jaehyun so he could see your immediate reaction to the tracks. But when your boyfriend was currently in the middle of practice with food for him and his band in your hands, you didn't exactly know what to do.

"What do you mean you're outside our practice room? Just come in." You scrunch your nose at this, looking around the empty hallway of the big company building. "Well yeah but I don't wanna have the song spoiled." Jaehyun chuckles from the other line, hearing footsteps as the door in front of you opens to reveal none other than the love of your life standing in the doorway. "You can hang up now," You say into the phone, you two laughing at this before the call ends.

"Who's there, Jaehyun?!" You could hear his bandmates question him. "The delivery person!"

"Oh, so I'm just a delivery person now?" You asks, loud enough for the well-known members of The Boyz to pop their heads from the inside to send a quick 'hello' and 'thank you' to you.

"You're a person delivering the food, no?" Jaehyun replies, feigning innocence as you could only narrow your eyes at him. "Whatever you say, Lee." Jaehyun only chuckles at this, taking the bags from your hands and placing a quick peck on your lips. "Thanks for the food, love." You hum in response, a small smile appearing on your face.

As Jaehyun turns on his heel to walk back into the practice room, you cross your arms and sigh. "Lee Jaehyun," You call, placing a tight grip on the back of his t-shirt. "Ye—" Before the male could even process the situation, he was already spun back around towards his girlfriend, melting into a loving kiss. He gently places the full plastic bags of food down before his hands snake around your waist and pulling you closer, feeling your arms move around his neck.

As you both pull away, you immediately fall into a warm hug. Lovestruck smiles on your faces as you plant another chaste kiss on his cheek. "That was abrupt," Jaehyun softly says, his breath tickling your ear. "That makes up for the good morning kiss you missed earlier." You simply reply.

"Oh? Does there happen to be anything else I missed for me to get another one of those?"

"Jaehyun!" You whisper-yell, gently smacking him on his chest as he laughs in amusement. "What? Just asking..."

"Could you two hurry up your make-out or whatever?!" You wince slightly at this, embarrassment sinking in as you only bury your head deeper into the crook of your boyfriend's neck. "That would be Eric." Jaehyun notes.

"Are you just gonna leave us starving to death so you two can continue devouring each others faces off?!"

"And that would be Sunwoo." Jaehyun chuckles at your loss of words, moving his head to the side to try and see your face. As they both pull away from the hug, they send each other bright smiles. Hyunjae places a kiss on her forehead before picking up the bags of food once more. "Thanks again for the food, princess."

"Anytime, my love."

—

Another hour of the day, yet a familiar scenario that you were about to walk into. It was currently midnight, the city lights glowing and the streets thriving. You had just been called up by your boyfriend to ask if you could pick him up from his company building. Of course, you immediately agreed and upon further inspection, found out that he really just wanted to raid your fridge and continue watching that movie series you two never finished.

You casually walk into the IST Entertainment building, unfazed upon the familiar interior. You make your way towards where Jaehyun told you he was, timidly knocking on the door and peeking your head inside to see a small number of staff running around here and there.

You enter the room, eyes trying to locate your boyfriend before you spots him a few distance away. You make your way over to him, garnering his attention with a simple tap on the shoulder. "You're here already? I haven't gotten changed yet," he mentions, surprised. "Yeah, I can tell."

Jaehyun, being the idol he is, was fully decked-out in a formal suit. Albeit, his hair was already quite messy and his coat was unbuttoned. Whatever the occassion was, you didn't mind. Because if it meant getting to see your boyfriend in a suit, you'd accept it anytime.

"Are you tired? I can't drive so we're going to have to figure out a way for us to go home if you are." Jaehyun was completely oblivious to your gaze on his current appearance. It was no doubt that Lee Jaehyun looked effortlessly handsome, no matter what he wore. But you were also just longing to be with him the entire day. One hug before lunch wasn't enough, nor was one kiss.

"Princess, you ok?" He asks, barely missing the split second in which your eyes flickered from his lips to his eyes. You hum in response, blinking profusely as a gentle smirk resides on Jaehyun's face. He starts to inch backwards, trying to see how well he could tease you before ultimately giving up.

"You ok?" He repeats. You don't reply, and before Jaehyun could repeat his question, you pull your boyfriend by his tie as your lips smash against each others. Happy butterflies filled the both of your stomachs as you two smiled into the kiss. You even swore you saw cartoon hearts dancing around the top of your heads.

You both were longing for each other the entire day. Of course, you two were used to the usual days of long schedules and long hours of not being able to see each other, but that didn't mean you never missed each other. And who said a good kiss when you meet each other again wasn't necessary?

You both pulled away from the kiss. It wasn't as long as the one earlier in the morning, but it held the same amount of passion, desire, and love from before. It also just ended quickly, primarily because it hit you halfway that you were both still in a random room in the large company building where Jaehyun's bandmates were, quite literally, right around the corner.

"That felt... oddly familiar," Jaehyun teases, a wide smile on his face. His hands continue to stay by your waist as you bury your head in the crook of his neck. Your face flushed a light shade of pink, taking sight of a door opening and the 10 remaining members of your boyfriend's group filing into the main room.

You didn't know what to do. You wanted to stay in the hug, but your social fear and embarrassment wanted to run away. However, Jaehyun seemed to read your thoughts immediately. So when he started moving so that he was the one now facing his bandmates and your back was turned to them, you swore another group of love butterflies erupted in your stomach.

"We seem to be interrupting something... I just can't seem to figure out what." Jaehyun sends a glare towards his bandmate, this shutting them up. You hear a few footsteps shuffling, the door closing. "They're gone for now. Let me change then we can go home." You nod once, pulling away from the hug.

"I love you. Thank you." You utter. Jaehyun presses a kiss to your forehead before replying, "I love you, too. And thank you for today." You send him a small smile, taking his hand. God, did you love this man.

[jikjinz]

͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ [i got good luck with you] ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

requested? yes, for anon!

verivery (separate & no kangmin) x fem!reader; headcanon format abt their kinks; mirror sex, thigh jobs, praise, worship, blindfolds, degradation, sex recording (consensual); voyeurism, size difference, impregnation/breeding, dacryphilia, oral fixation, manhandling, orgasm control, tights & skirt fixation; ig that's it

a/n: i am not going to explain myself abt this one. it just happened and yall gotta deal with it. enjoy i guess

JO GYEHYEON; degradation, sex recording, voyeurism !

he’s confident and he knows his value. the way he straight-up knows that there is no one other who would make your legs shake from a single kiss is seriously- ugh! this cocky dastard will (ofc only after you consent) put the phone/camera at an incredibly convenient angle and then ram you almost mercilessly into the bed. WHAT IS EVEN MORE SKDJFXMV ABOUT HIM is the fact that when you two have movie nights, he will choose the film. he always chooses the same stuff, namely: the sex tapes of you two. he loves when you stare at him as he jerks himself off, seeing how you squirm in your seat, thighs squeezed tightly. basically, he knows he has you in a chokehold but you have him in one as well.

“my little slut, getting so wet because of a few kisses,” he says, fingers hovering over the damp stain on your panties. with a foggy brain, you only breathed in quickly, unable to speak. eyes wandering from his lustful eyes undressing you with that stare to his lips, your lip balm all over them. 

“gye, i- i need you,” as you managed to stutter out those words, gyehyeon chuckled and then pointed at the shelf behind you.

“show the camera what you want me to do, and maybe i’ll make those lewd and filthy fantasies happen. who would’ve known that such a pretty angel could be also such a naughty, corrupted, and perverted whore. and all of it is only for me, no one else’s to see.”

JU YEONHO; praise (receiving & giving), worship (giving), sensory deprivation !

as much as he’s a mystery to me, i think he’s into plain things unless his partner wants to try something new. but what is consistent in his repertoire are those beautiful words he’s practically singing for you, about you, because of you. the way you feel around him, especially when he’s blindfolded… something indeed magnificent. as his hands reach out for yours, he just can’t help himself and let you know how much he loves you.

“you’re doing so good f’me, baby. i love you and your everything so much.”

kissing down your naked chest to your tummy, yeonho caresses your hand with his thumb. lord, you seriously are something else. knowing your body like the back of his hand, he doesn’t even need the vision to make you feel good, and that’s why, even though with a blindfold over his eyes, he still manages to visit all your sensitive and soft spots with his lips.

“you’re gorgeous, no matter how you look. no matter what you do, i will still be by your side, my baby.”

KIM YONGSEUNG; mirror sex; skirts, thigh jobs !

if i’d like to say that this man is confident, i would be lying. he’s not confident, he is C O N F I D E N T. seriously, the way he knows he looks fine, though in his mind he looks even better with you by his side. preferably in a skimpy skirt and on his lap, with his length between your plushy thighs. and when you two sit like that by the mirror??? he’s gone. he’s ascending. he’s literally losing all of his composure the moment you shiver because of the pleasure. bonus points if you’re only in a short, skimpy skirt, naked tits bouncing up, down, up, and your face with that cute fucked-out expression.

“fuck, sweetie- you’re so adorable like that,” yongseung says, knowing damn well you can’t fully understand what he’s saying. taking a handful of your tits, he’s molding them, from time to time pinching your perked-up nipples, earning a louder moan out of you. yongseung smiles at the sight in front of him in the mirror; you, dolled up with a pink skirt that’s not even covering your whole ass, practically drooling at the feeling of his dick between your thighs that was going back and forth, stopping right at your clit. 

“i can’t get enough of you, sweetheart. you’re literally made for me.”

| PART 1 | VERIVERY MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST |

@ jikjinz & @ sha-la-la, do not repost, copy, translate without my permission!

[ming-yu-hao]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 1

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: some angst ig, light cheating? (not really lol), mingyu is just flirty, female masturbation, mentions of alcohol and weed

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: it’s gonna get spicy soon just trust me ;)

Chapters: Next | Masterlist

30 minutes. That's how long you had spent anxiously perched in front of your computer, waiting for the familiar ring of the video call to echo through the speakers. You cycled between scrolling through social media, checking your reflection in the camera, and debating on whether or not to text Wonwoo. You understood that he was busy; it wasn't unusual for either of you to call a few minutes later than you had originally planned. But Wonwoo had never left you hanging for this long without an explanation. Normally, your mind would begin to fixate on the worst case scenario, but Wonwoo had already cancelled on you the past two weeks because he was busy working.

The loud vibration of your phone against your desk drew you out of your thoughts, and you hurriedly picked it up and saw Wonwoo's name glowing across the screen. "Hello?" You answered quickly.

"Hey," Wonwoo's deep voice sounded through the phone. "You're gonna hate me," He chuckled.

"I could never," You replied. You already knew the next words that were going to come out of his mouth.

"I can't FaceTime tonight." He explained. Even though you saw it coming, you couldn't help the feeling of disappointment that weighed heavy on your chest.

Your eyes met with the reflection displayed on the laptop screen. It taunted you, reminding you that Wonwoo's face wouldn't be there to replace it once again. "Well, I would be a lot happier right now if you told me that half an hour ago," You laughed bitterly. Running a hand through your hair, you quietly sighed.

"I know. I'm sorry." Wonwoo apologized. His voice was laced with genuine sorrow; you could clearly picture the frown that lined his lips right now. He added after a moment of silence, "I don't wanna keep doing this to you, so I think we should change our date day. I've been working more Fridays lately."

You nodded despite him not being able to see you and hummed in agreement. "What day then?" You asked.

"I'm not sure yet. I still have to figure out my schedule. Just text me what works for you and I'll let you know soon, okay?" He sighed.

"Oh, okay... yeah." Your lips drew into a tighter line with each word he spoke.

"Okay, I have to get to get back to work right now. I'm sorry again." He continued quickly. "I love you."

"I love you too."

The three tones signaled the end of the call, and slowly you pulled the phone away from your ear. Your tired reflection stared back at you. Finally, you shut the computer for the third Friday in a row.

The remainder of the weekend passed and you had barely heard anything from Wonwoo except for the usual good morning and goodnight texts. By the time Wednesday came around, the both of you finally agreed that Saturday could be your new set day for FaceTime dates. You powered through the rest of the week, and on Saturday you excitedly set aside all the work from your classes and waited patiently for Wonwoo to call.

You really missed him. It'd been just over two months now since you last saw him in person, when you moved into your dorm at a university three hours away from the one where you and Wonwoo met. He stayed behind while you transferred to a college with a renowned journalism program. At first, you were hesitant to leave him, but Wonwoo refused to let you give up such a great opportunity just to stay close to him. That was what you loved about him: he wanted to see you be happy and successful.

Situating yourself comfortably on the bed, you pulled up some random Netflix series to entertain yourself while waiting for Wonwoo. You only half paid attention, glancing between the computer screen and your Instagram feed on your phone. Time crawled, and slowly you sunk deeper into the softness of the mattress below.

Cold, small hands shook you awake. You rubbed your eyes and sat up, disoriented. The series you were watching was still playing quietly. Your roommate, Jisoo, stood next to your bed with her arms crossed over her chest. She stared at you with a raised eyebrow. "You're passed out by 7 on a Saturday night?" A teasing smile was displayed across her face as she shut your laptop.

You suddenly realized that it was an hour past the time that Wonwoo had promised to FaceTime you. Your heart sunk in your chest as you thought about how you probably missed his call without an explanation. You picked up your phone, but quickly noticed the notification for a missed phone call from him, followed by a text that said: I'm so sorry, something came up I promise I'll call you tomorrow.

Jisoo surveyed you for a moment; a more serious expression began to cross her features. She sat down at the bottom of your bed. "Did something happen?"

You rolled your eyes and looked down at your hands. "Wonwoo cancelled on me again," You sighed, "But I shouldn't be mad at him for it. It's not his fault he's busy."

Jisoo tsked and patted your leg through the sheets. "Of course you can be upset! How many times has it been now?"

"This entire month. And he always cancels super late."

She scoffed, "See! That's shitty. If this was the first time it wouldn't have been a big deal. But four times?" She stood up quickly and opened up her wardrobe. "If he wants long distance to work, he needs to have better communication."

"Yeah, I guess." You replied. Jisoo held a black top up to her figure, observing herself in the mirror. "Where are you going?" You inquired.

"A party at the SVT frat. You know any of them?" She explained while changing her outfit.

You had heard of the frat before, but you racked your brain for any of their names and couldn't remember one. "I don't think so."

Jisoo faced you again and smiled. "Well, let's go."

You chuckled, "No way."

She pouted. "Come on. You haven't gone out with me I'm so long. You're in college!" Jisoo begged. "Just this once. You'll have fun."

Jisoo had a point. You really had nothing else better to do besides sit around and mope over Wonwoo ditching you. You let out an exhasperated sigh of defeat, "Fine, I'll go."

"Yes! Go get all cute and dressed up." She cheered.

You emerged from your bed and strolled over to your own closet. "Alright, I'll be quick."

You and Jisoo walked into the party hand in hand. Immediately, the stench of weed and sweat overwhelmed you. Loud music vibrated through the walls of the house and clashed with the sounds of people cheering and yelling. An intense game of beer pong captured the attention of most people in the main room, but you could see a separate crowd gathered in the kitchen too.

"Who do you know here again?" You shouted over the music at Jisoo, not seeing a single person you recognized so far.

She leaned closer to you so you could hear. "Choi Seungcheol. I have a chemistry class with him." She scanned the room and suddenly perked up. "Oh, there he is!" She called his name and pulled you along with her towards him.

He stood against the wall with a red cup in his hand, talking with another tall boy. At the call of his name, he looked over at the two of you and smiled brightly. "Jisoo! I'm so happy you made it." He exclaimed while wrapping his arm around her lower back. Seungcheol watched you with kind eyes as you approached him. "And who is this?" He asked Jisoo.

"This is my roommate, Y/N. Y/N, this is Seungcheol." She introduced you both and you smiled and gave a small wave to the two boys.

The other boy flashed you a sweet smile that caused his eyes to form into crescents. "I'm Seokmin. I live here with Cheol." He explained.

All four of you continued to converse casually until Seungcheol pointed to you and Seokmin and said, "Hey, why don't you two go get some drinks? We'll wait here." You swore you saw a gleam of mischief in his eyes, and you quickly glanced at Jisoo to see if she noticed it too, but her expression remained neutral. This was exactly why you strayed away from parties. You wanted to avoid any encounters with flirty, drunk frat boys. But Jisoo, who was basically a mind reader, didn't react, so maybe you were just being overly paranoid.

You nodded and walked over to the kitchen, Seokmin following close behind, and watched as he began to mix some drinks together for the four of you. He let out a frustrated sigh as one of the bottles of liquor reached its end. Seokmin peeked over his shoulder and shouted, "Mingyu! Can you get me the other bottle of vodka?" You perked up at the familiar-sounding name, but couldn't remember where you had heard it before.

A moment later a presence approached you and Seokmin from behind and set the bottle down on the counter. "Now you have to make me one too," The deep voice joked. You turned around and immediately recognized the tall figure.

"Mingyu?" You called out in surprise.

His eyes dragged over and met yours. His face lit up instantly as he recognized you. "Y/N! What are you doing here?" Mingyu laughed.

Seokmin turned around and handed a cup to Mingyu with a raised eyebrow. "You guys know each other?" He questioned.

You grabbed your own cup and took a sip of the bittersweet mixture. "Yeah, we have a digital media class together." You said before smirking at Mingyu. "I didn't think you were the frat boy type."

Mingyu rested his right hand on the counter beside you, almost trapping you in between the wood and his body. "I guess I'm just full of surprises," He replied.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest at his flirty response. This was a whole new side of him that you had never seen before in class. Granted, he was most likely tipsy and maybe even a bit high, but in class he was usually polite and reserved. He cracked jokes with you sometimes, but you never expected him to be so bold. On top of that, he always had his hair styled back neatly. Now, his dark hair fell over his forehead in messy curls. His skin was sheathed in a light layer of sweat, and the muscles in his arms and chest were suddenly more prominent under his white tee in the dim light of the house. You had to admit, he was ridiculously attractive.

"I'm gonna go give this to Cheol and Jisoo," Seokmin interrupted before leaving the kitchen with both cups in his hands.

Silently, you started behind him and Mingyu walked with you. "So what are you doing here?" He asked again as the two of you rounded the corner and entered the living room.

"My roommate was invited and made me go with her," You told him. You continued to sip your drink, basking in the warm feeling that the alcohol left in your chest.

"Makes sense. I didn't expect you to be a party girl." He teased. His arm slowly snaked around your waist and squeezed your hip lightly. Your skin tingled beneath his touch but you didn't give him any physical reaction, opting to just ignore the grip he had on you.

Your jaw dropped in a fake gasp. "You think I'm boring or something?" You narrowed your eyes at him and he chuckled.

"I never said that," He responded with a smirk on his lips.

Seungcheol and Jisoo had migrated from the spot where they previously stood, so you scanned the crowded room for the long haired girl. Finally you noticed her sitting close to Seungcheol on the couch. You could see they were laughing about something and considering Seokmin wasn't hovering near them anymore either, you decided to leave them be.

Mingyu noticed where you were looking and raised his eyebrows at you when you turned back to look at him. "Well, I guess my roommate is busy," You rolled your eyes.

You had forgotten about Mingyu's hand on your waist until he squeezed it again. "Good thing you have me then," He bantered. Your skin flushed; you slightly leaned into his touch. It had been so long since you felt someone else's hands roam across your body. You missed the feeling.

Mingyu slowly pulled your body closer to his until your chest was centimeters away. You gulped and dragged your eyes up to meet his. He stared at you intensely, his other hand coming up to caress your cheek. Your breathing hitched as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip. "You're so pretty," He muttered. It felt like fire had lit up your entire body. Your nerves tingled and your brain felt fuzzy and you hated to admit it but you could feel arousal growing between your legs. Somehow Mingyu pulled you even closer than before and you felt his hard cock brush against your thigh through his jeans. His tongue darted out against his lips and he inched his face towards yours. "Can I kiss you?" He whispered just inches away from you lips.

Guilt imprisoned you as soon as he said those words. They reminded you of where you were, and what you were planning on doing. You closed your eyes and pulled yourself out of his grasp. "I have a boyfriend," You admitted briskly.

Mingyu stared at you in confusion. "What?"

Shame overtook you. Wonwoo had trusted you to remain loyal, and here you were at a frat party, leading on some poor boy from your class.

Mingyu lightly grabbed your wrist. "Hey, I'm sorry. I should've asked-" He started, but you quickly cut him off.

"No, I'm sorry. This is my fault." You apologized and pulled your wrist out of his grasp. You looked at him; he stared at you with a sorrowful gaze. The regret on your face was evident and he knew that he had helped in bringing this guilt upon you.

"I- I have to go do something," You added before turning around and darting towards the door. You didn't bother to turn around or look for Jisoo, you just needed to get out of there as fast as possible. Once you were outside, you inhaled a sharp breath and pulled out your phone to call for an Uber. You waited near the street, sending a text to Jisoo to let her know that you felt sick and went home while you waited.

Eventually the Uber pulled up and you hurriedly sat down and told the driver where to go. You breathed a sigh of relief as they finally pulled away from the frat.

The drive was short, but you spent every one of those few minutes replaying the night's events in your mind. Your flesh still tingled in the places where Mingyu had touched you. Guilt haunted you, but you attempted to lessen that burden by reasoning with yourself. You missed Wonwoo. A lot. You missed hearing his voice and seeing his face and of course feeling his touch against your skin. You hadn't been fucked in over two months now, so it was no wonder that any bit of physical affection would have such a strong effect on you. What mattered is that you stopped it before anything happened. You could live with that, you decided. All you had to do now was just clear up things with Mingyu next week, deal with any awkwardness between you two, and focus on Wonwoo.

When you arrived at your dorm, you quickly changed your clothes, cleansing yourself of the faint smell of weed and the remnants of Mingyu's touch. Not long after, exhaustion began to take over your body. You laid down on the bed, not even bothering to check your phone before closing your eyes and letting sleep overcome you.

You weren't sure what time you fell asleep, but you awoke some time later and glanced at the clock. 11:54 PM. You stretched your arms behind your head and yawned as you scanned the room. Jisoo was still gone. You closed your eyes again and tried to fall back asleep, but your mind began to race.

You could clearly picture Mingyu's lust-filled eyes staring down at you, his hands running over your waist and pulling you towards the heat of his body. The glow of his skin, the messy curls hanging over his forehead, the fullness of his lips as he asked in his husky voice if he could kiss you—the images and sensations swirled around in your thoughts.

In a half asleep daze, you rubbed your thighs together. Friction built between your legs. You groaned quietly as your mind revisited how you felt when Mingyu's hands were on your body. More arousal began to pool in your heat, your underwear clinging to your wetness.

Languidly, you ran your hand down your stomach and toyed with the hem of your underwear before slowly pulling the fabric down your legs. You imagined Mingyu's sharp eyes staring at you from between your thighs as you ran your fingers through your slick folds. Arousal coated your fingers and you began to rub your clit in slow circles. You pretended that Mingyu's thick fingers were the ones teasing your clit, making your legs jolt each time you pressed the right spot.

You moaned quietly and began to grope your own breast. You squeezed and flicked your nipple, causing a quiet gasp to fall from your lips. You pulled your hand away from your clit and slowly pushed two fingers into your dripping heat. "Mmh, Mingyu," You groaned under your breath. You imagined his deep voice saying the dirtiest things to you as he pumped and curled his fingers into your pussy.

You gasped as you hit a particular spot that made you arch your lower back. You continued pumping your fingers at a fast pace until the knot building in your lower stomach snapped. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a sharp whine as an intense feeling of euphoria washed over your body.

Your body relaxed against the sheets as your heart rate began to slow and exhaustion overtook you once again. You sighed contently and wrapped yourself in your blankets, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

You promised yourself that you would never do that again.

[goldentsum]

— delivery boy

PAIRING: shinsou x reader

GENRE: fluff, awkward scenes

WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY: a sleep-deprived college student just trying to get by the hellhole he’s in by getting a job as a delivery boy. shinsou hates what he does but if he can get a certain cutie, it might lessen his hatred for his job. 

TAGS: college au, just fluff with soft and awkward shinsou, sleep-deprived! shinsou as always, cursing, crack

AUTHOR’S NOTE: quarantine made me do it. sighhh, can’t i have a cute delivery boy everytime i order shit? also, shinsou is me pls. D:<

shinsou hates his job. he doesn’t like it one bit. the way some orders are too long that he was using his big brain juice all the time or when someone cancels their order when he already bought the fucking food, he absolutely hates it. his faith in humanity is decreasing at a rapid speed with his job, not like it exists to begin with anyway.

the purple-haired male is proud of his 4.0 gpa despite him slowly losing his sanity as he lose sleep over it but there was this asshole of a teacher in literature 3 was making it difficult to maintain it just because the old geezer has his head stuck in his ass and he won’t even give them the ppt slides, that asshole. 

shinsou rubbed his tired eyes while his one hand typed on his computer, listening to the asshole professor in front. the male craned his neck and massaged his neck then took a quick sip of coffee, closing his eyes as he did so. when he opened his eyes the slide in front was already different, making him put down his drink in surprise and tried to copy the notes in a hurry, cursing quietly when he noticed that the last sentence in his notes was cut off.

he fussed over his notes because it was the only thing that’s keeping him from failing the class. the professor was an asshole and liked to pick on his students and shinsou absolutely hates him. he swears when he graduates, he’ll curse the professor off and flip him off as he walks away from this hellhole. 

when the class finished, shinsou looked at his notes in horror. it was cut off in a lot of places and so incoherent that when he tried to read it, he thought he gave himself an aneurysm because of it. 

his tired eyes stared blankly at his screen while his internal monologue went on about how he’ll just find a sugar mommy and live his best life while the other students went out the room. his thoughts were then cut off when he heard an oh so familiar voice echoing out to him like a siren in the sea. 

purple eyes turned to the side and saw you with your friends who were waiting outside the classroom door as you walked away from his sight. shinsou’s not gonna admit it but he finds you really pretty. you’re just so soft and small compared to him. your sweet smile was always present every morning unlike his dead eyes and resting bitch face. annoyingly, you always distract him from the lessons which freaks him out. 

no one has ever fazed him but then you came along with your annoyingly pretty face and aesthetic outfits. always sitting beside him, you smelled really sweet too as creepy as that sounds, and you always greet him with such softness that it made him wanna vomit rainbows and sparkles. no one has ever caught his attention so how the hell can you distract him without even doing anything? 

also, why do you write your notes in a notebook and still make it look really good and clean? every time he looks over to your side, he sees your notes and his eyes bulge out when your pretty handwriting, the cute and small illustrations, and pretty colors of your notes fill his sight. 

that’s also one of the things shinsou liked admired about you. you’re probably the only person in your whole batch who writes their notes on a notebook, not that it’s a bad thing but how can your notes still be so pretty and organized even with professor asshole’s hellish pace of changing the slides? 

shinsou sighed and ran a hand through his messy tresses then fixed his things up to get away from the hellhole and come home to his lovely bed. It must've been at least 24 hours since he last slept because he was up all night the other day to fix and perfect every assignment in the devil’s class. 

when he finally got to his dorm, a huge sigh of relief left him as the tall male practically collapsed on his bed. his fatigue overcame him in an instant as his eyes closed in instinct, finally sleeping after stressing so much and intaking coffee, lots of coffee. thank god that it was friday and he didn’t have to wake up early because he finally passed his requirements to every class for the semester.

it was already the next afternoon when shinsou woke up, his body ached but at least he wasn’t running on caffeine to keep him from falling over and dying on the spot. 

loud clanking was heard from his kitchen as he perked up in confusion for a moment then groaned in dread when he realized who it was. shinsou let his head hit the pillow once again, staring at his ceiling and he felt a headache coming in already.

fucking kaminari is in his dorm again. he didn’t get the blond’s actions but the latter always told him that he was “making sure he wasn’t dead yet” but shinsou knows that kaminari only wants free food but he appreciates the effort, he guesses but can’t kaminari check if he wasn’t dead a little quieter? 

he sighed in annoyance and grabbed his phone, going out after stretching and feeling his bone pop satisfyingly. shinsou was greeted with the sight of kaminari fighting with the sizzling oil on the pan in his kitchen. 

“what the fuck are you doing?” shinsou’s bored voice reached the blond male who looked at him and smiled, “morning dude. i noticed you had bacon so i’m gonna cook it.” 

shinsou was about to reply but the sharp yelp kaminari let out cut him off and he watched the shorter male curse at the pan, rubbing the spot where the hot oil hit him. 

he scoffed at the scene and shook his head as he sat on the couch and opened the tv. he was scrolling idly through the channels and when he didn’t find anything entertaining, he stopped on the news. 

opening his phone to check his social media feed as he let the tv and kaminari’s curses and screams become background noises. shinsou just wants to see what type of shit people are in these days and it wasn’t because he’s gonna stalk your account. definitely not that. 

shinsou scrolled through your pictures on ig, admiring the aesthetic ones combined with chaotic energy in your profile. he smiled a bit when he noticed you unarchived an old pic in your ig. you had shorter hair in the picture and wore some funky shades. 

“ohh~ who’s that? she’s cute” kaminari popped out behind him, looking at shinsou’s phone over his shoulders. shinsou jumped at his friend’s presence, letting go off his phone accidentally as he tried to grab it to not let it smack against the hard floor. 

when shinsou saved his phone, he whipped his head and glared at kaminari, “what the fuck, denki!” 

“geez, sorry man” the latter nervously chuckled and walked back to the kitchen with fear coursing in his body when the taller male’s glare didn’t falter. shinsou rolled his eyes at him and looked at his phone. his usual dead eyes widened whilst horror filled his system. 

on his phone, it showed your old picture from a year ago and on the bottom left, the heart was filled. shinsou quickly unliked the picture and threw the phone beside him on the couch as if it burned him. 

“what the fuck what the fuck no no no no--” he mumbled in distress, his heart beating a mile per second. he paled when he imagined seeing you again in class on monday. 

“i’m gonna puke,” shinsou muttered and held his head, eyes wavering in fear. kaminari poked his head from the kitchen and saw his distressed figure. 

“um? shinsou? are you okay, dude?” 

when he heard kaminari’s voice, his head whipped to him in a snap. shinsou smiled at him as a shiver ran down kaminari’s spine. “do i look okay, denki?” 

a loud scream echoed in shinsou’s dorm and that was the last time anyone has ever seen kaminari denki. rip. 

shinsou was stressing the fuck out, he even felt tears prick his eyes with how stressed out he is. nothing could compare to the stress he’s feeling right now well maybe his first finals was also this stressful but that’s not the point. kaminari tried to cheer him up with some bacon and eggs but the male was so snappy though he ate the food after denki left. 

after sulking in his dorm, he shook it off and tried to take his mind off it. he showered, worked out a bit in his room, and made some shake but the embarrassment was always looming in the back of his mind. you might think he’s a creep or something. you two barely talked to each other with only good mornings and pleasantries exchanged for the whole semester so what the hell is he gonna do?! 

before he knew it, he was accepting some orders in his phone to let out some steam and keep him busy. for the first 2 orders everything was fine but he suddenly got tired and the shame he left at his apartment was still in his system. so he accepted the last order for today before going back to his dorm to do his last resort of screaming into the void. he then went to the boba shop to get the orders. 

getting the order, he went straight to a nearby dorm in his campus that’s being shown in his phone to get the money and yeet himself out afterwards. shinsou rubbed his neck, mentally and physically tired after going around and delivering people their food and from getting a harsh life-changing embarrassment happen to him. he’s never gonna stalk you or anyone for that matter again and if he ever sees you again, he’s gonna jump through the nearest fucking window, he doesn’t even care anymore. 

as he rang the doorbell and waited for someone to open the door and get the heavy milk teas off his hand, he was already thinking of going to another school and just live a whole new second life. dramatic as that sounds but it was tempting at this point.

but life was not having it. life wants to see him suffer thoroughly. before he thought he just had some bad luck but now, he knows that life was fucking him over and laughing at his misery. 

the door opened and in came to view the last person he wants to see right now, you, and it’s not fair, why are you answering the door with an oversized shirt and some shorts with messy hair, looking like a goddamn cutie! you want to kill him, don’t you? 

your (e/c) eyes gleam with familiarity when you see the awkward tall male from your class and saw the precious boba in one of his hands.

“shinsou, right? i didn’t know you did delivery?” you smiled at him making the purple-headed male scream internally. he cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded, “y-yeah, the pay isn’t that much but it helps...” he replied so painfully awkward that if anyone sees you two, they’ll cringe. it was that bad.

but being the angel that you are, you giggled and nodded as if you weren’t affected by his awkwardness. he’s thankful for that. 

“wait a second, okay? i’ll get the payment” you chimed and he nodded as you run inside the dorm. shinsou’s mind was running a mile per second, did you not receive the notification of his shameful actions? or were you being an angel and sparing him the embarrassment? 

he wants to hibernate and never leave him bed after this. shinsou snapped out of his thoughts when he saw you jogging towards him with the same beautiful smile you wear everyday and he unconsciously straightened up. 

“here you go! thank you, shinsou!” you giggled and got the milk teas of his hands while you gave the money to him. 

“thank you, (y/n)... um, are you gonna drink all of that?” he asked, cursing his mouth when he just blurted it out. your eyebrows quirk playfully and chuckled, shaking your head no. 

“no, silly. my friends are inside” shinsou nodded stiffly and looked around making you two just stand in silence. a painfully awkward silence. shinsou saw you were about to say something but a loud voice from inside the room called out.

“(y/n), where the fuck are you?! the boba! ..shit-! i saw that, you cheater!” you looked back and rolled your eyes then looked back at him. you waved your hand at him with a smile, “well bye, shinsou. thanks again” and closed the door. 

shinsou exhaled a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding, looking at the closed door. he then walked away though his eyes were going to the door again and again until he couldn’t see it anymore. he looked at his hand and saw a piece of paper inside the bundle of money. 

with furrowed brows, he opened the folded paper and he was floored! 

hi shinsou! call me sometime! :)

xxx-xxxxxxx

-(y/n) 

okay, maybe being a delivery boy isn’t so bad after all. he got your number didn’t he? talk about lucky! 

extra crack ending: when you and shinsou are finally dating

(y/n): so... are we really not gonna talk about the post that you liked in my ig?

shinsou: you knew?! 

(y/n): duh bitch.

[lovingmyselfcore]

Skate Into My Heart

Chapter Three; Uh oh

BESTIES

I'M ALIVE AND I DID THE WRITING THING

@ciaraloves (or @perseusjackson-jasongrace ig) LOOK AT ME DOING THE THING

As soon as Nico left the locker room, Piper pounced on him. Literally.

He was forced to take a step back and caught her by the shoulders, “What’s up?”

She was practically vibrating with excitement, “Annabeth’s back!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Come on!” She grabbed his hand and yanked him through the hallways and into the main rink where a crowd of people had formed next to the bleachers.

It was the rest of the team and in the center was Annabeth, a duffle bag slung over one shoulder, looking exhausted as all hell but she was grinning as the team peppered her with questions and play-by-plays of the practices she’d missed.

Piper shouldered them into the center so Nico was directly in front of Annabeth, Piper on one side and Calypso on the other.

“Hey, Nico,” Annabeth said, still grinning. She stepped forward for a hug and he let her, burying his face into her neck and breathing, already feeling the responsibility leaking from his tight shoulders. Annabeth was like a big sister to him, not that he’d ever admit that, but still.

“You want to get out?” Nico whispered into her neck.

“Yes,” She whispered back emphatically. Nico could barely stop himself from laughing but as they pulled apart he saw the genuine relief in her eyes and felt himself worrying. He needed to talk to her, about the team and skating, about Will and of course, if she needed to talk about why she’d been gone for so long, he’d do that too.

Apparently, Calypso recognized that too and, bless her heart, muttered something to Leo, and together they captured the team’s attention, allowing Nico to tug Annabeth away from the crowd and out of the rink. She sighed as soon as they were ejected onto the city streets. Nico stuck an arm out and she smiled and linked their arms.

“Where are you headed?” Nico asked as they walked the short distance to the car garage.

“Oh, probably just my apartment.”

Nico nodded, “I wasn’t sure if you’d be staying with your dad or not.”

She shook her head, “He doesn’t even know I landed yet. I’ll head over in the morning.”

Her voice was stiff and Nico took that as his cue to change the subject. “So I have something to confide in you.”

She perked up almost immediately and he swallowed hard. But she just looked at him with those gray eyes and he reminded himself that this was Annabeth. That she wasn’t going to get angry with him.

At least, he hoped not.

“I’m talking to one of the hockey players,” He said casually.

Her grip on his arm stiffened and he braced himself but she was still just looking at him.

Finally, she grinned, “So when you say ‘talking to’...”

He groaned and felt himself flush, “Oh, shut up! Just friends.”

She hummed and released his arm to dig for her keys in her jacket pocket. “Is he nice?”

“No, he’s a dick,” Nico said sarcastically.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “I don’t know why I even bother.”

“He’s blonde,” Nico offered.

“Oooh,” Annabeth drawled.

He rolled his eyes and she burst out laughing, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the parking garage.

“Is he gay?” Annabeth asked.

Nico nearly flinched and passed it off with another eye roll, “I don’t know, Annie, that’s not something that’s come up in casual conversation.”

She glared at him and Nico, being the mature adult he is, stuck his tongue out at her. She did it back then shook her head. “Too much time with Percy,” She muttered and Nico snorted. She grinned at him.

“So he’s okay?”

That sobered her immediately. “Yeah. Well, as okay as he can be. I’m only here for like two weeks because he insisted I come back, but I’m leaving as soon as possible,” She glanced sideways at him, “Not to leave you alone again, though.”

He shrugged off the flash of selfish hurt he’d felt, “I’m good, Beth.” But he wasn’t good. He’d just told her about Will, and not even the start of the way his stomach would twist when he saw a new text from the hockey player and not the same twist when he panicked. And that also meant his chances of performing solo again were climbing. He didn’t know how to feel about that part.

“Stop that!” She exclaimed, halting once they’d reached her car.

“Get some sleep, Annabeth,” He said genuinely then smirked a little, “It looks like you need it.”

She threw a balled-up receipt she’d found in her bag at him, “Dick!”

~~~~

“Hey, Nico.”

Nico nearly leaped out of his skin, spinning to see Persephone in the living room.

She snorted, “Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry. Did practice go well?”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, “Yeah. Annabeth’s back.”

Persephone hummed, reaching up to untwist her hair, sending it cascading down her shoulders, “That’s good. I know you’ve missed her,” She said with a knowing look in her eyes that made him shift uncomfortably.

“Yeah, definitely, um, I’m tired we learned some new moves for Regionals today, so,”

“Yeah of course.” She was still smiling.

“‘Night Persephone,”

~~~

Nico flopped face-down onto his bed with a groan. He knew Persephone though he had a crush on Annabeth; he didn’t blame her, he’d never really made it a point that he didn’t. He wished he could come out to her and his dad, he didn’t really have a reason why he hadn’t besides the weight of anxiety on his lungs.

His phone buzzed again, and he wriggled upright to yank it out of his pocket.

Will: Distract me

Will: My mom is driving me insane

Nico grinned to himself, both of them were dealing with mommy issues at the moment.

Nico: idk how you expect me to distract you

Will: Just tell me about snakes or smth

Nico: you think i just have fun facts about snakes on hand?

Will: Yeah?

Nico: good

Nico: cause i do

Will: :)

Nico: snakes can slither 12.5 mph

Will: Good lord

Nico: snakes have internal ears but not external ones

Will: ??

Nico: they can’t create their own body heat which is why theyre in the sun all the time

Will: Hmmmm

Nico: they smell w/their tongues

Will: I thought they had nostrils??

Nico: they do

Will: what

Nico: it’s their Jacobson’s organ my dude it works in mysterious ways

Nico: not really but yk

Nico: sCieNcE

Will: ok….

Nico: if you get bored of snakes i’ve also got a bunch of random cheetah facts

Nico: i love cheetahs

Nico: very cool

Nico: fast cats

Will: Lmao go ahead

Nico: but first

Nico: why’s your mom driving you insane

Nico: if you want to tell me ofc

Nico: not trying to be weird

Will: Nah you’re fine

Will: She wants me to focus entirely on med school and not hockey

Will: She’s trying to get me out of it, actually

Will: Do something ‘respectable’

Will: Not turn out like my dad

Will: Even though dad has literally NOTHING to do with hockey

Will: And in my opinion he’s not bad. Not great. Not awful yk

Will: But hockey’s what’s putting me through med school so

Will: Gods, I really just burdened you with that I’m so sorry

Nico: med school huh

Nico: now i can say i know a doctor

Will: In training

Nico: close enough

Nico: you’re a great hockey player and you're going to be a great doctor

Nico: and you can always talk to me, will

Nico: you’re not burdening me with shit

Will: thanks <3

Nico didn’t understand why he blushed. It was a goddamn emoji. Calm down, Di Angelo.

Will: So we’ve been talking for a few weeks now. Can I call you my friend yet?

Nico snorted, feeling like he was fifteen again, sprawled on his bed, in the dark (because for some reason he didn’t turn his lights on) late at night, texting his- well, anyway.

Nico: yea dumbass

Nico: we’re friends

Will: Nice

Will: Now give me cheetah facts you adorable nerd

~~~

WILL

“Will? You good?”

Will blinked, Jason coming in to focus in front of him. “Uh, yeah.”

“That was believable,” Clarisse said sarcastically from behind Jason.

Will attempted to shake the fog from his head, “Yes,” He repeated.

Jason just blinked at him and Will was formulating an excuse for why he was so tired besides the fact that he’d spent all night talking to a cute figure skater with a ridiculous amount of animal facts stored in his small body when Coach Hedge’s voice boomed from his seat on the bleachers, “Solace! You alive?”

“Yes, coach!” Will shot back.

“Then why are you just standing there? Get back to the game! You too, La Rue and Grace!”

“Yes, sir!” They all barked back.

Clarisse gave him a once over before skating back to her goal and Jason went over to Will’s spot with him, “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

Jason opened his mouth, probably to question why the mom friend of their group was tired enough he nearly tripped over his stick but Will just said, “It’s fine, Jase. It’s not a big deal.”

“Grace!” Coach Hedge screeched.

Jason gave up on trying to interrogate Will and skated back over to his spot.

~~~~

“Mama, please,” Will tried, but his mother cut him off.

“Willaim. Hush. How’s that girl you said you were dating?”

What?

He was silent for a beat too long.

“Oh, baby,” His mother’s thick southern accent drenched her words. “You broke up? I’m so sorry.”

Oh gods, Lou Ellen Blackstone.

Will and Lou Ellen had dated for two months a long time ago, and when they were still dating he’d told his mother about her to get her to back off of his personal life a little. Their break up hadn’t had a huge fallout, Lou Ellen had told him through tears in his living room that she was aromantic. They were still friends, had been even before they dated, actually, and talked to each other pretty regularly.

But the problem was, that had been three months ago, and he hadn’t told his mother about their breakup. He knew she’d ask why, and he didn’t want to out Lou Ellen or make her a devil in his mother’s eyes. So he’d procrastinated coming up with a reason until he’d forgotten about it entirely.

And now it had come back to bite him in the ass.

“Yeah we broke up a little while ago,” He forced himself to sound choked up, which wasn’t hard, giving the way his panicked brain was now sprinting in circles on his lungs. “I just didn’t disappoint you.” Probably the most honest thing he’d said in weeks, but that’ll be unpacked later.

“Honey,” She sighed sadly and Will didn’t know whether or not that was on his behalf or hers.

“Well, it’s okay, because I’m dating someone new.”

“Oh?” He could hear her spine straighten. “Is it someone I know?”

No, mom, it’s not one of the country girls I grew up with.

“No,” He winced at how southern he sounded. He’d been talking to his mother for five minutes. “You don’t know him.”

HIM. Good Gods, Will. Yeah, you came out as bi to your mom, but still, you haven’t actually mentioned a guy to her yet.

She was silent for so long his heart joined his brain in the track meet happening on top of his lungs. “What’s his name?”

He was so she’d spoken that he blurted, “Nico.”

What. The. Fuck. Willaim.

Apparently, his heart had won that damn track race.

“Well, what I was leading up to before you told me about what happened,”

Will hummed non-committally, trying not to sound like he was taking relieved breaths as she spoke.

“The family’s come for a reunion and you should bring that boy!” Will choked on his spit.

“Mom, I don’t know about-”

“No, William. There isn’t a set date yet so we can work around your schedule,” Fuck. “I insist, Will. I need to meet this boy you clearly like very much, even though all you’ve said is his name, a mother knows.”

Umm, what.

“Sure,” Will said, sounding a little strangled. “But we have a game this weekend.”

“Alright, William.” She sounded the way she always did when he brought up hockey. “But as I said, we can work around your schedule and his. Talk to him about it, and let me know.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Will repeated. “I’ll do that.”

She hung up and he was left staring at the wilting daisies at his kitchen table.

What had he just done?

[eternalscribbles]

(I need to excersize my writing muscle more, otjerwise I’ll just keep making bad stuff like what I’m about to sjow. But you can never get better at anytjing if you don’t use it, like art or languages! Sp that’s wjy tjis also exists! Tjis is set as a sort of alternate occurrence of Season 1, Episode 41 of Steven Universe: Horror Club. It only jas spoilers for tje ending of tje episode kinda? It only goes to a certain point in tje end wjicj overlaps, but after tjat lil part, it’s a wjole new story kinda. Paragrapj 1 is tje part tjat overlaps. It’s pretty bad tjo still, so read at risk of cringe ig. BTW it’s under a cut after P1 cuz it’s kinda long-)

Angry, screeching, the house wails and roars, keeping Sadie behind the bars of it's teeth. She screams in fear as she tries her best to climb out. Ronaldo, Lars and Steven stare forward, taking in the scene. In a quick moment of thought, Ronaldo takes Lars in a headlock and marches forward. "Hey! Let go!" He struggles in his arm. "Wait, stop, what are you doing!" Ronaldo raises Lars up high like an offering. "SPIRIT, I DELIVER THE PACKAGE OF DARKNESS! RETURN TO US THE INNOCENT SADIE!" The wall screeches Lars' name. "C-c'mon man, we used to be friends!" "And you threw me AWAY!" Ronaldo chucks Lars in like garbage. Steven calls out, "Lars!" and runs after him, Ronaldo doing the same to Steven. "No! Steven! He's not worth it!" Steven jump in with Lars, who complains. "Why does everything bad always happen to me!?"

They struggle in its mouth, but they are no match, as its tongue pushes them to its pearly whites (somehow, they were spotless) which begin to close down. And in a last minute thinking, Steven pushes Lars out the Mouth, having to stretch to do so. Leaving his gem right below the incoming dentures. They  bite down with all their might, and two loud cracks echo around the room. For a moment, everyone stops, everything stops. It feels like they're all frozen in time. Suddenly, a large cloud obscures Steven, accompanied by the sound of a 'poof'. Curling in on himself, Steven shakes on the ground. At the same time, there's a 'clink' of a gemstone hitting the ground, and Sadie. "Sadie!" The boys smile, relief washing over them. Sadie smiles back and opens her mouth to say something, only for it to fall at the sight of a pained Steven. "Steven!" She rushes to his side. "What happened!?" "I... I think my- my gem- I- g-get me to- to the gems..." Each movement he makes rings with indescribable pain, and his brain is actually ringing. The boys now mirror Sadie's worried expression, although in their own way. Sadie tries to pick Steven up gently, he winces and curls in further, his arms covering his stomach. Next to Sadie, Ronaldo walks and picks up the gem. "What do we do with the spirit?" "Bring it w-with us, the- the gems'll know." He doubts his bubbling ability and the moment. And even if he knew he could bubble it, he would rather not move much at the moment. "Hang in there, we'll get you home." Carful not to harm Steven further, Sadie begins a speed walk, the boys following behind. Lars' eyes dart around as they go up stairs, go out doors, and travel through buckets worth of grass. "Is he bleeding?" "No. It might be something internal." "We did hear a crack when it bit down on him." "It BIT DOWN ON HIM?" Sadie turns her head slightly to Ronaldo. "Yea, then it disappeared!" Ronaldo waved around his arms in exaggeration. "Steven might have some anti-spirit properties! Steven, when you're okay, could I study you for research purposes?" "Wh- what? Nno!" He shifts uncomfortably in Sadie's arms as they enter the more beach-like part of Beach City, near his house. His eyes are shut tight. They delve back into conversation, but this time, the words all start to blur for Steven. They become muffled, as if they were behind a wall.

Next thing he knows, he hears the panicked screams (and gasps) of the Crystal Gems. He perks up a little, home at last. Turning his body around in Sadie's grip, which was surprisingly light yet also strong, he groans a little in pain. It burns, but he wants to see the gems. Opening his eyes feel like turning on the light after a day in the dark, they sting. Pearl has her arms out, shouting something in Steven's direction, most likely to be something of 'Don't move!', or maybe his name again. Garnet's usually quite stiff pose is broken, showing slight vulnerability even without her eyes being shown. And Amethyst, having fresh memories of being cracked, looks at him with the purest concern ever with a familiar bubbled gem in her hands. Steven strains himself to listen to what they say. "Why are we standing here, get moving! We need to get to Rose's fountain!" Pearl quickly snatches Steven from Sadie's arm, pausing for a moment as a pang of heightened pain makes Steven whimper. He opens his mouth, only to be cut off by a barrage of coughs. Pearl tried to pat them away. "Give him to me." Garnet's arms extend out to take him. Cautiously, she gives him to Garnet, who instantly spring into action to the warp pad, prompting everybody else to follow. They enter the warp stream.

Garnet's holding a weak, shaky and pained Steven, who has closed his eyes again. He shivers for two reasons now, one being the freezer that is the warp stream. Pearl is panicking, quietly talking to herself. Amethyst is fidgeting with her hands, starring at the poor boy. Sadie worriedly stares forward, her worry shared by Lars, although outwardly dulled. Ronaldo only has a bit of worry, instead examining the warp stream and asking the Crystal Gems questions they'd rather not answer in such a dire situation. Not like it mattered, considering Ronaldo would instantly switch the the next question anyway.

They quickly arrive to their destination, not that Steven notices. He's gone back into a state of complete drowsiness, any sounds of pain that accidentally leaks through being slightly more noticeable. Garnet pushes forward toward the fountain, everybody following close behind. And when they arrive, Garnet wastes no time in swiftly and harshly submerging Steven in the tears. His eyes shoot open in surprise and fear and he screams under the sort of shallow water and moves around like a madman. Good news though, he seems to have a lot more strength than before, so his gem must've fixed. With a smile, Garnet pulls a gasping Steven out of the water. He pulls up his shirt just enough to see a shining, clean rose quartz gem, no longer cracked. Garnet pulls him into a hug which he reciprocates, followed by all the gems and humans, minus Lars. Steven starts to laughs, now healed and safe, tears pooling in his eyes. Cracks littered his croaky voice. 

"I thought I was gonna die..!"

[anxious-l0ser]

Still Into You

so um, i guess, welcome to my first full fic? idk, this was supposed to just be a ficlet, but my mind wondered and wouldn't stop, so now i have this lmao. this is basically a LAMP fic (only one chapter) in a rock band au, where Roman is the lead singer, Virgil is the guitarist, Patton is the bassist, and Logan is the drummer (generic, ik, let me live lmao) (also somebody please teach me how to tag shit, idk how-)

Ship: romantic LAMP

Warnings: concerts, ig? mentions of kissing, homophobia in the musical industry

The cheers from the crowd echoed back to Roman in a perfect harmony, his veins pumping the pure electricity from the energy in the room, and even their imperfect, gasping breaths for air seemed to mix perfectly into the internal beat of the room.

Roman had never felt such euphoria.

“Thank you, LA!”

Another round of applause and cheering caused Roman’s head to feel floaty, a dopey smile already playing around on his face as he tried to suppress the laugh bubbling up in his chest. He always found the feeling of performing intoxicating, and the presence of his bandmates was no help.

He couldn’t really stop feeling happy when surrounded by his secret lovers.

It was hidden pretty quickly after they figured out what kind of relationship they wanted, and it was hard. Of course it was. How could Roman resist for so long, when Virgil was so perfectly disheveled from giving it his all on his guitar? When Patton was giggling so happily that the crowd seemed to visibly grin back at him? When Logan looked so ready to start another song at any moment, but that didn’t stop the poorly hidden smirk that he had from pure pride in his drumming? Roman barely had enough willpower to kiss them all senseless, but they could do plenty of that backstage. Right now, they just had to be best friends for the crowd, and Roman had to stop himself from waxing poetry right there, in front of everybody.

“Thank you all for such a wonderful evening, you’ve been an amazing crowd!”

Roman was cut off again by their cheering, but he could never find it in himself to be angry at that.

“We have one more song for you, so let’s make it count!”

The excitement in the room was so contagious Roman couldn’t stop himself from laughing from the euphoric feeling of pure energy. He gave Logan a nod and a smile, and the other two shared a look before a familiar beat began, and the crowd cheered in recognition.

“If you know, why don’t you sing it with me!”

And Roman had the best performance of his life.

***

“Thank you, again. Are you sure you don’t need assistance in packing everything into the bus?”

Patton’s feet swang in the air as he sat on the edge of the stage, rocking left to right from the pure excitement of tonight’s performance. He watched Logan with a far-away look, his eyes really examining how beautiful he could look even after a 2-hour performance and 16-hour plane ride. It didn’t seem fair, but as long as he got to look at him, he supposed it was okay.

“I know, he looks so pretty.”

Patton jumped slightly, relaxing when he saw it was only Roman, giving him a dopey smile.

“He really is. Did you see that thing he did for track four? It was so cool, I didn’t expect it! Oh, oh, and then Virgil just played off of that and started adding a bunch of riffs, and don’t even get me started on that run you did, it just all worked so perfectly-!”

Patton could’ve ranted for hours on end about how perfect his lovers always seemed to perform, but he stopped to match Roman’s love-sick grin.

“Thank you, sunshine. You were...simply exquisite tonight! How you dare to have so much talent and beauty in you still astonishes me to this day.”

Of course, Patton had unlocked sappy Roman. He giggled as Roman started peppering his face with kisses, trying to mumble back as many compliments as possible for every one of Roman’s admirations. He didn’t even notice that they had a crowd until someone cleared their throat, and he turned to see a smirking Virgil, already shaking his head.

“Only half an hour and you’re already all over each other?”

He teasingly poked, sitting on the other side of Patton while the other two shared a smile.

“Can you blame me? How am I supposed to do another 49 2-hour performances without kissing my talented and beautiful boyfriends?”

“It’s called self-control, love.”

Logan remarked as he walked over, locking his phone after presumably shooting a text to their manager. His tie was usually pulled down before performances for comfort, more of a stylistic choice, but the first few buttons of his shirt were also unbuttoned, and his sleeves were rolled, comfortable for helping the crew pack up.

“How am I supposed to have ‘self-control’ when I’m faced with such temptation?”

Logan rolled his eyes but didn’t stop Roman from pulling him in by his waist for a kiss. Logan’s hands came to wrap around his neck and they didn’t go far once separated, their hands intertwined as Logan joined their tiny circle.

“You did amazing tonight, Specs. I know you’ve been working on that for months.”

Virgil remarked, sending Logan a smile. Logan shrugged sheepishly as the other two showered him with similar affections. They had a habit of doing that, getting lost in their own little world that the only words they could understand were ‘I love you’.

It was a miracle they heard their manager at all.

“Great performance tonight, guys. The parking lot is practically buzzing with energy, y’all really didn’t hesitate for this first performance.”

The group shared smiles and ‘thank yous’ with their manager, before he pulled his usual serious face.

“I talked to the agency today-”

“And?”

Roman perked up immediately, not able to stop himself from his curiosity. They had proposed making their relationship public during the tour, talking about how excited their fans must be and how many people were already suspicious of them. Forcing them to be together for 2 whole hours without any displays of affection or words of love or looks of passion was pure torture, even if tonight was their first night. It just wasn’t fair. But from the resigned look that their manager gave them, they knew they had lost this fight again.

“-and...they’re thinking about it, really. They aren’t sponsoring this tour, but they...they threatened again. To end the contract if you didn’t ‘behave’, which would mean...an unforeseeable future after this tour. As much as I want you to be happy with one another and open about it, this could be your last tour if you’re not careful.”

The happy, underlying tones from the evening were starting to blur into the harsh reality of the business they were in. Of course, they knew they would face homophobes and backlash. Their sales may dip, their shows may not be fully packed, and, the most terrifying, in Roman’s opinion, they may not get re-signed with their label. Yes, Roman despised them with every fiber in his being, and he regretted convincing his boyfriends to make a band with him under that label everyday, but he couldn’t be completely mad when they helped pay his bills. The reality of the situation sucked, but it was honest. Their careers could be ruined by their relationship.

***

The squeak of his office chair and the soft noise of his bouncy ball hitting the ground every so often was the only noise heard within their hotel room. Roman had been trying to figure out a solution for their label issue that wouldn’t land in their careers being ruined, but so far, his mind had blanked the entire morning, not a single idea good enough to even be written down. 

He had tried, really, he had, so hard last night to reassure his boyfriends that everything would turn out okay, that they’d be able to be proud of who they were while also doing what they love. And he had finally made progress, getting all three of them out of bed to get breakfast from a nearby cafe, and in that time, Roman had been able to find every single flaw in his argument. He had pinpointed the exact moment he lost hope in ever being truly happy, and now, his brain was just a down spiral of what-if’s and fears. 

There was the underlying promise that they’d never be able to be public about their relationship without jeopardizing their entire careers, and even though Roman would lay everything down for his boyfriends, he had never seen them happier since they started performing.

It was kind of funny, how much they despised each other when they first met. Even Patton, who held so much love for them now that he almost felt like he was suffocating without showing it, had hated Roman’s guts, and Roman didn’t blame him. He was an arrogant, loud, cocky teenager with the perfect voice but the worst attitude. He sassed anybody and everybody that came to his competitions that he found at least a tiny bit threatening, and when he saw Logan, he knew instantly that they could never be friends.

Logan was a stuck-up, booksmart, angry nerd that never got along with Roman to begin with, but when he started playing the ever-predictable violin at a competition, Roman had practically led the crowd to booing him offstage.

The next week, when Virgil had mustered up enough courage to play piano at a competition, Roman was a little more generous at how nervous he seemed, but didn’t think twice about embarrassing him once he was off stage, mockingly babying him until he left.

Patton had showed up at the competition at the end of the month, and Roman had already seen how much fun he would have tormenting him. He was a too-nice-for-his-own-good kind of kid, with a smile that seemed too rehearsed, and Roman hated how well he was able to talk to the judges after singing a song. Singing was Roman’s thing, so he went all out for his performance, purposely using Patton’s performance as an example of what one shouldn’t do on stage. 

Roman was an absolute bitch.

And he regretted it, he regretted it to this day, despite his boyfriends constant attempts to reassure him that they were just kids, they were just young stupid teens that were all terrified of what people thought of them. Because Roman didn’t mean to be rude, but that’s the only way he knew to survive, after years of being in the same toxic friend group. When Virgil had stumbled upon Roman’s friends, it all seemed to click, and he still held a certain degree of resentment against him for bullying him. But when he told Logan and Patton, who he had managed to befriend, he had never seen Patton switch so quickly.

He organized a day for them all to hang out, despite all of their protests, and even though Roman really didn’t want to at the time, he still showed up. They talked and talked, growing more and more comfortable with one another as the time passed. At some point, Logan had asked Roman for critiques, but genuine critiques. No comparing performances, no school-yard name calling, and no rude names. Just genuine notes that Roman thinks can genuinely improve their performances. Because, even though young Logan never would’ve admitted it, Roman knew how to win those competitions.

So Roman did. He gave them notes. He talked about how talented they were (probably for a little too long, but he won’t say admit that) and how they could improve a bit of stage performance. That meant different things to all of them, but one day, Roman invited them over to his house to hang out again. Because this time, he would prove it to them. Yes, they were talented. Just at different things.

So when Patton played the bass like he was born playing, when Logan was able to find the beat of a song after only two seconds, and when Virgil was able to find all the notes on a guitar in record time, Roman knew they had found their element. It wasn’t that they weren’t talented. It was that they were talented in different things.

Roman almost didn’t hear his boyfriends return until the hotel door clicked close, and he looked up. They all looked varying degrees of concern, but after coming straight out of a daydream, there was a flash of them when they were still just kids. Smiling, ignorant, hopeful kids. The ones he fell in love with. 

“Ro? Are you okay?”

Patton approached him slowly, picking up a few of the crumpled up pieces of paper that Roman had thrown everywhere, throwing them away before placing his hands on Roman’s shoulders. Logan and Virgil joined shortly after, placing their breakfast on the table before Virgil sat on the floor next to Roman’s chair, holding his hand, and Logan stood in front of him, taking the other hand and placing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“Yeah….yeah I’m okay, now.”

Patton sighed out in relief, resting his forehead on Roman’s neck. Roman pulled on Logan’s hand until their foreheads were touching, and he squeezed Virgil’s hand. This is what he truly loved. Sure, the feeling of pure energy coursing through his body after a performance was wonderful. But just being here, existing with his loves, kissing them whenever he pleased and telling them, openly, about how much he loved them? That was a feeling that could never be replaced.

So screw the label, and the sales, and the homophobes, and all the people that’ll try to end his career. Roman was happy with his loves, and nothing could ever stop him from showing it.

“I...I have an idea for our performance tonight.”

***

Roman’s nerves were shot with pure adrenaline and he couldn’t believe this was real life. Standing on an entirely new stage in a different part of California, his hand on his mic, the cheering and pure excitement after completing their first song. It was like a drug to Roman, but the giddiness of what he was about to do next was partly to blame for his contagious smile and random giggling.

“Good evening, LA! How’re you doing tonight?”

Cheers and laughs were repeated back to him and Roman laughed out of sheer nervousness, his hands subtly shaking, but he was able to play it off.

“So tonight is actually a really special evening! You may not know why yet, but after this next song, you definitely will! It’s brand new, we’ve actually all been working on it for weeks, and we’re so excited to share it with you, called Still into You. So, this next song is dedicated to them.”

Excited squeals burst around Roman’s brain, and he smiled, nodding at the tech crew backstage. It was like a movie reel, a countdown from three and they started singing, their hands a bit jumpy from nerves but still perfectly combined to feel right. Pictures started flashing up on the screen behind them all, first of all of them as kids, getting to know each other all the way to high school. Pictures of a young Roman winning his first singing award, Logan and Patton’s first duet. Their first ever performance as a band was during a talent show, junior year. The crowd laughed and smiled at each photo, dancing along to the melodic singing of all of them together, but then came Roman’s favorite moment. 

Logan’s drumming started to quiet down, and all you could hear within the room was their instruments humming out the heart of the song and Roman’s voice.

“I’m into you. Baby, not a day goes by that I’m not into you! I should be over all the butterflies-!”

And just like that, it all came back, Virgil and Patton joining him on harmonies. And the pictures changed, and suddenly there was some understanding. Because the first photo, after Roman’s high note, was all four of them. Holding one another. And another, of them kissing. And another, more affectionate, more domestic, more loving than the world had ever seen them. And cheers could be heard, of excitement, of passion, of understanding, as everybody finally got a peek into their last few years. 

By the time they finished, the crowd was cheering louder than Roman even thought was possible. He was smiling, bigger than he ever had on stage, and he laughed out of the pure relief he felt of finally being able to say it. He loved them. He loved them with his entire being, and he wouldn’t ever try to hide it again. The crowd quieted only somewhat to let him speak, and when he did, he had to clear his throat to not tear up.

“The last four years of my life, I have never been so happy as I am with my boyfriends. And to say that they’re the loves of my life doesn’t even begin to cover how much I love them. Because I do. I fucking love them!”

The pure adrenaline coursing through their veins was reciprocated with so much support that all four of them couldn’t help but smile.

So no, Roman wasn’t worried about his career, or what he’d do at the end of the tour. What he cared about was that the entire world knew that he had found his soulmates. And he would never stop loving them.

[gcnnerpaxton]

THE CHARACTER STATISTICS

FULL NAME — gunner brick paxton

NICKNAME — little paxton/lp by a few ppl tho he hates it KLSHDGLKHSDLGS bt thts pretty much it.............

D.O.B. — july 31st, 1998

LINK TO THEIR PINTEREST BOARD OR TAG ON YOUR BLOG — board | tag

STAR SIGN / MOON & RISING — leo sun, scorpio moon, gemini rising

MBTI — istj - the logistician

MORAL ALIGNMENT — lawful neutral

MARITAL STATUS & SEXUALITY — single & demisexual

LANGUAGES — english

TALENTS / HOBBIES — film making, piano, guitar, producing music (kinda he tries to make his own music fr the films he does bt is never rly satisfied w it bt they’re not actually Bad), unicycling (very proud he taught himself how to during the summer), magic tricks (loser), etc. jst a very long list of rly random hobbies

TOP 5 MUSICIANS — ac/dc, hozier, janis joplin, guns & roses, new order, heart, the cure..... i kno this is more than 5 bt i hv a hard time narrowing down his fav artists >_>

FAVOURITE BOOK — kane and abel

FAVOURITE FILM & TV SHOW — likes a lot of modern psychological horror...... get out, hereditary, the lighthouse, etc. / watches more youtube play throughs than tv shows but it’s always sunny in philadelphia is his fav show hes rewatched it sm when he goes thru a Depressive Slump

FAVOURITE VIDEO GAME — red dead redemption

WHAT DID THEY DO THIS PAST SUMMER? — they went to nyc to do a film internship!!!

WHERE HAVE THEY TRAVELLED? — uh........ new york, connecticut, wyoming....... pretty much those places only in the states n thts it

DO THEY TAKE ANY PRESCRIPTIONS? — lexapro and zoloft for depression/anxiety, halcion to help with sleep, oxy’s for when his brittle broken body/brain starts acting up due to a fkin bajillion accidents as a kid............ jst a walking pharmacy rly he has so many meds at all times SHDGLKSDHGHLSKDG (i am not a doctor i tried to google if these can all b taken at the same time bt its jst wht . i imagine he’d have bt i kno nothing about anything)

DO THEY HAVE ANY DIAGNOSIS’S? — anxiety, major depressive disorder, underlying trauma n ptsd from events growing up....... looks away dramatically

FICTIONAL CHARACTER THEY ARE MOST LIKE? — ben wyatt (parks and rec), creed (the office), connell (normal people), pope (outer banks), charlie (perks of being a wallflower)

ARE THEY EMPLOYED? WHERE DO THEY WORK? — yes they work at the library on campus

WERE THEY POPULAR IN HIGH SCHOOL? — this man had maybe one good friend in high school

DO THEY DO DRUGS? — yes more so now than ever rly

DRINK? — yes

SMOKE CIGARETTES? — he ‘quit’ bt still does a lot when hes drinking at parties n stuff

SMOKE WEED? — yes

WHERE WERE THEY BORN? WHERE DID THEY GROW UP? — born and raised in laramie, wyoming before coming to radcliffe

DO THEY PLAN TO GO TO GRAD SCHOOL? — yes

WHAT ARE THEIR PLANS POST-GRADUATION? — he wants to move to nyc and just make as many films as he possibly can, kinda wants to be a screenwriter and a director but he leans more towards the writing aspect

PARENTS NAMES — john and jessica i think......... just something basic.

DO THEY HAVE SIBLINGS? NAMES & AGES? — elias (26), wyatt (12 when he went missing/presumed dead)

DO THEY HAVE PETS? TYPES & NAMES? — ya he has a tabby cat named bucket that he loves a lot :’) philly gave her to him from off the streets basically fr his bday so when she had a litter he gave philly one of the kittens n she named it pail its all very adorable. 

ARE THEY RELIGIOUS? WHAT IS THEIR RELIGION IF SO? — grew up pretty catholic cuz their parents were heavily involved in the community but doesn’t rly believe in all that/doesn’t practice at the very least

HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE THEY SLEPT WITH? — like 11.......... 12 ig

WHAT VEHICLE DO THEY DRIVE? IF THEY DON’T DRIVE, HOW DO THEY TRAVEL AROUND TOWN? — he does not hv a license........... elias n most friends r pretty good abt giving him rides but usually he jst walks/takes the bus if need be

DESCRIBE THEIR FASHION — eugh. just......... the worst. has no taste at all............ 90% of his pants r way too big for him cuz they’re jst hand me downs or thrift store finds, too lazy to check if they were his right size, uses shoelaces as a belt to keep them up, ratty sneakers that he’s shoved tissues into to make them fit, lots of 80′s styled wind breakers, mostly thrift store stuff that is either rly funny or jst a bit sad to look at, has been known to wear two different shoes at the same time if he cba looking fr both, has some nice knit sweaters w fun designs bt thts abt it

DO THEY PREFER TO BE BEHIND THE CAMERA OR IN FRONT OF IT? — behind

DO THEY BELIEVE ANY OF THE STORIES ABOUT RADCLIFFE? WHICH ONES? — ya a bit......... hes pretty into ghost stories like tht

DO THEY THINK THE MOTHMAN IS HOT? — yes absolutely.

A QUOTE THAT DESCRIBES THEM —  “I felt like crying but nothing came out. It was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. But I think I have known it pretty often, too often.”

A SONG THAT THEY WOULD RELATE TO — one foot in the grave - andie

[chaosbcrne]

words & moving pictures

       “Big boss wants to see you in lab three.” The voice is very recognizable. It’s the top maintenance man - Finlay, if he recalls right. Finlay likes the observatory about as much as he does, he’s come to think, with how often he happens to find something to do here. Finlay always finds some portion of window to clean or some buttons to adjust or some screens to calibrate in this room even if it’s one of the emptiest in the colony. Finlay never delegates the tasks he has to do here to the rest of his team, he always keeps them for himself. Maria says Finlay does good work, that’s why it’s up to him to decide. That’s how everything works here - the people who are the best at what they do are the ones who get to decide what’s best for everyone else. He nods.

       “It’s not urgent, though,” Finlay says with his hand held up at him, like he didn’t need to get up so quickly. He stares at the hand, blinks at it. ‘Stop,’ it means, or ‘slow down’ sometimes. ‘Calm down’ when there’s two of them, but there’s only one this time, and it’s already going back down. So, in-between. You can go now, but you don’t have to. Not urgent. He nods again, his march towards the exit resumes. Use your words, he pictures the familiar voice. “Okay,” he says just loud enough for Finlay to hear him. The door whooshes open, and closes behind him with the same noise.

       Not urgent, he mulls over, eyes fixed on the ceiling lights, on the line they trace across the hallways like an indication for which path to follow. Urgent means go now, but not urgent does not mean do not go now. It means you can go now but don’t have to. Maybe he should make a list of words that get a different nuance when negated, and not just the opposite meaning. They all say making lists is a good way to remember. Now that they’re letting him go places by himself, do what he likes in his spare time, he’d like to get better at remembering these things. He’d like to.. be able to speak with them, he thinks. Without always having to ask Maria if he understood right.

       In the meantime, though, he walks with a hand to the wall, muscle memory telling him where to turn and where to keep going more than the progressively clearer map of the place stored in his brain. He doesn’t look at them when they pass him by. It’s distracting enough to feel their gaze on him, without meeting them with his own. Focus, he remembers. A blessedly straightforward word.

       The laboratory is empty. Not the usual ‘people have been coming in and out and there just happens to be no one at the moment’ empty, though. More the ‘there was a research session a short moment ago and everyone effectively packed and cleaned up their station before leaving’ empty. There’s no trace of ‘big boss,’ like Finley called him, or so it seems. He treads into the room slowly, quietly, soft soles rendering his steps remarkably quiet compared to those of hard-footed humans. The smell of disinfectant is a tad overbearing; he crosses the room with a grimace.

       Then he hears the voice, and remembers. Lab three is linked to an office, sort of. It’s not really an office, not as much as they wanted it to be. It’s where they stored a lot of communication equipment, so the scientists use it more for that than for an office. The door was left open, and he hears the voice that summoned him here. There’s no other voice he can hear, though. He steps closer.

       The man’s back is turned on him, but in front of him there’s a screen with an image on it. The image of someone. Not a picture, though, not really. It glitches in and out, but it seems to be moving. He could swear he remembers the someone from somewhere. He squints. It’s all black and white. He’s never seen that someone otherwise, though. Not really. He remembers. That someone, he’s seen in a picture. A very old picture of the man who created him, when he was... not like this. Younger. The moving picture on the screen looks a lot like that person. Almost identical, but not quite. This one is still moving. And speaking, too. He can hear the other voice now.

       A lot of words he hasn’t heard much. Big Cs. Confidential, compromise, chance, classified. The tone is heavy, serious. Sad, he would say, but both voices are too worn to tell for sure. Maybe that’s why he can’t bring himself to step into the office and ask why talk to a picture, why can the picture talk back, why does it look so much like another picture that didn’t move. Many questions he wants to ask. Why do you sound so sad, mostly. But he just waits by the open door. Not urgent, he repeats mentally. He just has to wait for his turn.

       ‘I’m sorry,’ that he recognizes. He squints, confused. He’s never heard the man apologize before, and to a moving picture, of all things ? A moving picture of someone who looks like his different-- his younger self. It doesn’t make sense. The picture disappears, soon after this. The room is plunged into silence. The heavy kind. Even with his back turned, the man looks sad.

       He knocks on the open door, recalling the short manners lesson he was briefed through a few days ago. His creator doesn’t react. “You wanted to see me, professor ?” he asks, looking up at the person in question while keeping his head almost bowed. Silence, still, and he glances to the side, considering whether he should leave and return in a moment. “Yes,” the professor responds suddenly. “Good timing. Come in.” He does as he’s told, apologetic expression on his face, but the man doesn’t bother looking his way.

       “There’s something you have to understand,” his creator says, his voice still heavy but more assured than it was an instant prior, and finally turns to face him. Black ears perk up to attention. “You won’t always have time for everyone. Sometimes, to do what is right... you’ll have to make choices. And just hope that the people you let down will be okay on their own.” He squints, trying to commit the words to memory. And tilts his head in confusion, to which the man immediately asks, “Do you understand ?” He nods. “Use your words.”

      “I don’t understand,” he says right away.

      “Don’t nod if you don’t understand.” He nods. “Shadow.”

      “Sorry.” Ears swivel backwards, sheepish. “How do you know which choice to make ?”

       The answer doesn’t come immediately. “That’s the big question. It’ll be up to you to figure out what’s right and wrong. You will learn, in time. Learn to understand what’s best for you, what’s best for others. Know when to listen to your heart, and when to listen to your head.”

      “My heart doesn’t speak to me like my head does.”

       The professor laughs. It’s a relief. “That’s just what your head wants you to think.” Another confused look. “Don’t fret. You have a lot of time to make sense of this. Just, remember it, yes ?” He nods. “Words, Shadow.”

      “I will.”

      “Thank you.” The man sounds satisfied. That’s a relief, too.

      “Is that why you wanted to see me, professor ?”

      “Well, no, not exactly,” his creator says, heaving something of a sigh before he works up the energy to stand up from his chair and begins pacing towards the exit. “We made a little something for you just over here. Come along.” He nods again, but the professor doesn’t see. So he follows out, though not without glancing back at the black screen again, the one where there was a moving picture a minute ago. He should try to remember this too, he thinks.

[artificialqueens]

Waiting For Your Moment To Fall On Me (Vixie) - Pilandok

AN: I haven’t been here in a while. Oh wow, I’m writing Vixie again. It’s because of the odd resurgence of Vixie pics on tumblr and Trixie’s ig story of that poodle figurine and she tagged Violet. *tears*

This is part of my drabble collection in Ao3 although it’s longer than a drabble. Read the other drabbles here:

I Love You Anyway

It’s the Same Old Thing

The first time Violet kissed Trixie, it was a joke, though more like a prank. A little mean-spirited gesture meant to throw Trixie off and it did. He reacted the way Violet wanted to: frustrated, blubbering, and blushing furiously. Before Violet could bask in her victory, production came over and scolded them, saying they should stop bickering like children and in not too many words that this was not the kind of drama they were looking for. Not them throwing playground insults (“no, you’re the ugly bitch”) at one another.

           Trixie had all but forgotten that fight until he watched that episode of Untucked and found that it didn’t make the cut. Trixie didn’t think too much about the disappointment he felt. He wanted to know how it looked like.

           “It would’ve made great TV!” Violet shouted. This was in another time, in another place—in Violet’s New York apartment just after her fashion show. Miss Fame was there and, through a series of random happenstances, Trixie was, too.

           “Yeah, if I was going to get assaulted by you on day twelve of you not showering then the least I could get was more screen time.”

           “Must be because they couldn’t think of a storyline between the season winner and someone who was there for like a total of two seconds,” Violet replied. She was clinging to Miss Fame, demanding affection like a cat.

           “Bitch!” Trixie screams.

           ��Wait, that happened? That happened?” Fame asked, confused as ever. She turned her head side to side to look at Violet and Trixie who were sitting either side of him. They didn’t answer her. Trixie looked at Fame affectionately and hugged the arm that Violet wasn’t clinging to. Fame leaned against him slightly. When Violet saw this, she made a sound and repositioned herself to curl up on Miss Fame’s lap.

           “Did you just purr?” Trixie asked, laughing.

           “Shut up,” Violet retorted. What she hated was that Trixie got under her skin as much as she did him and can that he can throw her off, too. She still hadn’t forgiven Trixie clocking her missing contact that first day in the workroom.

           “That’s what happens when you spend too much time around that evil cat of yours.”

           “Do not come for my cats, bitch.” Violet sat up to glare at Trixie. “Just because your only friends growing up were the feral mutts you had to take flea baths with, you country hick.”

           “No, I’m serious, Violet. Your cat looks like it’s plotting to kill you for your pasties.”

           “Bitch, you’re just jealous they got more hair than you.”

           The bickering and fighting for Miss Fame’s attention wasn’t new, it was a familiar scene for all of them. It wasn’t just Fame, it was anyone who gets caught up in their stupid arguments. But with Katya, she has enough affection to give both of them, and Pearl doesn’t care enough to humor either of them. Fame enjoyed the attention but she can’t help but think about those cockfighting videos he watched when he was younger that left him traumatized.

           By the time Fame left them for a sanity break, Trixie and Violet have circled back to “you’re the ugly bitch” and “no, you’re the ugly bitch.” Back and forth, they throw shallow insults at each other that became so convoluted and obscure that it was driving them to hysterical laughter.

           “Fuck,” Violet was tearing up, the laughing was hurting her sides. “In drag, you look like a factory-reject matryoshka doll that came out of Katya’s ass.” Trixie opened her mouth to scream but Violet wasn’t done yet, “and out of drag you look like a homunculi baby Jesus that Mary regretted not aborting.”

           “Oh my god,” Trixie laughed in disbelief. After a beat he quipped, “it’s homunculus, by the way, singular.”

           Violet punched his abdomen slightly and Trixie realized that she was resting her head on his lap. With Fame in the other room, Violet had redirected his affection to Trixie.

           “No bitch, plural,” Violet answered, “you’re literally a thousand ugly babies.”

           Violet had been tracing her fingers absentmindedly on Trixie’s stomach and suddenly he became conscious of the shift in the mood. An odd tension bubbled up He felt compelled to continue their insult trade-off to escape the strange atmosphere.

           “And you… you’re—you look like…” Trixie was coming up with blanks and he caught Violet looking at him smugly. He realized that Violet knew exactly what was she was doing.

           “You can’t think of anymore cause you know I’m pretty,” Violet said, now fully confident, “you know I’m hot.”

           Trixie is sure that it was meant to be a jab but it sounded like a challenge. They’ve been arguing the whole night, he wasn’t about to give up now. He just needed to throw Violet off once more. And he knew exactly how to do that.

           They had their second kiss that night—and their third, their fourth, and fifth, and sixth.

—

           Their seventh was the start of a game. In a boat full of drag queens, the objective was to not get caught. Trixie didn’t know how it escalated to that point, but the next thing he knew, they were ducking corners to sneak quick kisses from each other. In the crowd, they catch each other’s hands with lingering touches and without anyone looking, they share knowing winks.

           It concerned Trixie slightly that Violet was living her best life playing this game—giggling whenever she managed to steal a kiss before Trixie even saw her coming, grabbing her ass in the presence of other people, then whispering for him to follow her to darker rooms for full make out sessions. Trixie followed, naturally, though he realized soon enough that it stopped being a game they played together because now they were on different teams. His task became that he had to keep up with Violet jumping around endlessly, popping out of nowhere to tease him. Violet’s objective seemed to be to get Trixie, who wasn’t in drag, to pitch a tent. And with that, Violet nibbled on Trixie’s ear then ran off. Trixie’s sure she was playing to win.

           Maybe they weren’t as secretive as they thought they were, especially with the free-flowing drinks leaving them significantly buzzed.

           “You have something on your neck,” Kim Chi said, making a motion to wipe it off. Trixie rushed to wipe it himself and found some pigment of what was unmistakably Violet’s purple. Kim Chi looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Trixie ignored it and turned to look for Violet, spotting her a few acquaintances over talking to some people. He waited for a few seconds before marching over, catching her as she was trying to slip away from the conversation.

           She laughed when he explained her carelessness, “thought you knew, bitch.” Violet patted him on the crotch as she walked away for good measure. Despite his irritation, he felt something stir up inside him. He was losing bad. Trixie rushed to follow Violet who was already talking to another group of people. He cut in unceremoniously.

           “Oh, excuse me. I’m going to need to borrow Violet because some folks were looking for her to talk business,” he said innocently and turned to Violet. “Vi, those people from ancient-twinks-dot-com want to talk to you about the project you proposed?”

           Violet’s mouth dropped in disbelief but before she could protest, Trixie grabbed her by the wrist and began cutting through the crowd. He led them to the bathrooms, gendered signs being ignored throughout the night, and pulled them into the nearest one.

           “Bitch, you—mmph! “Violet’s lips were quickly occupied by Trixie’s as he pushed her against the wall of the bathroom. It was a hungry and hurried kiss with his face pressing harshly onto Violet’s. Her arms darted out to steady herself but Trixie was quick to hold on to her wrists to pin them above her head. Fuck, Violet thought she may be starting to lose again, whatever this game was. They kept changing the rules that she didn’t know exactly what it entailed to win.

Violet didn’t struggle against the grip, instead returning the kiss with equal vigor. Trixie didn’t let off, continuing to kiss her roughly and in the heat of the moment, he bit down on her lip harshly.

           Violet responded with a strangled noise, bucking her hips instinctively.

           This reaction surprised Trixie enough to pull away. He released his grip on her arms and they fell limply to her sides as she slid slightly against the wall. Violet looked spent and the sight of her flushed and panting redirected whatever blood flow was left to his brain southbound.

           Trixie let himself slump forward on to Violet. She felt his whole body against hers and found the rigidness between his legs pressing against her thigh. Trixie took her hand again and guided it to press against his erection over his pants. Violet perked up, this had got to be an admission of defeat.

           “Nobody makes me as hard as you do,” Trixie said in a strained voice. It was a strangely intimate statement. More intimate than Trixie probably realized. This caught Violet off-guard and despite her flushed skin, she blushed. Her sure-win was suddenly becoming unclear again as her mind began to race at Trixie’s words. Violet kept thinking about how much she liked having Trixie like this, pressed up against her and so very conscious about how much he wants her.

           Trixie didn’t make an attempt to move and was seemingly unaware of Violet’s internal crisis.

           “It wasn’t the game or whatever,” Trixie began, “I brought you here cause I wanted to do that.”

           Violet wondered if Trixie was hearing what he was saying, she wonders if he’s still playing the game because her winning was starting to feel like she was losing again. But this time, he seemed to have little desire to analyze his own words, just content in having said those things out loud. Violet remained quiet, although she could swear that Trixie could feel her heart rattling against her rib cage. If he did, he didn’t say anything about it.

           A few minutes more passed before Trixie pushed himself off Violet, gesturing to the door. Violet understood this as them needing to get out before people got suspicious. Trixie chuckled when he saw how messed up Violet looked. She glared at him but was met with Trixie’s apologetic smile. For some reason, neither of them was saying anything. Trixie left first and Violet took the time to fix herself up and gather her thoughts. Her mind was in a whirl, she wanted to do something about it.

           It was easier than she thought, to forget that they were in a game. Even though everything before was just that.

           Violet suddenly rushed out of the bathroom to look for Trixie, the thought of the game now filed under things that don’t matter. No more sneaking around, she just wanted to kiss Trixie again. Maybe in the middle of a boat full of their peers and queer cruisers, it didn’t matter.

           She found him on the other side of the deck, leaning against a railing. Violet made her way to Trixie, not noticing that he was talking to their friends. Trixie spotted her when she was a few meters away and made a face as if he hadn’t seen her all night long. The fake expression fell away, however, when he realized Violet was making a beeline for him.

           Right before Violet reached him, there was a loud explosion in the sky behind Violet. She didn’t turn around, however, fixated only on Trixie. She watched the flashes of colors appear on his face and only then did she realize that they were surrounded by people they knew.

           Fuck it, let them see.

           Violet pulled Trixie by his shirt and pressed her mouth onto his. When Trixie wrapped his arms around her waist, it felt like her last victory for the night.

           When they pulled away from the kiss, the fireworks were still ongoing. Everyone on the deck was fixated on the sight. Including everyone around that they knew.

           Trixie looked at Violet incredulously. Nobody saw them.

           “How did you know that there was going to be a fireworks display?”

           Violet laughed, as surprised as Trixie was because she had no idea, no idea at all.

[still-sadaboutmcr]

Soundcloud

Messy

Brown

Yes, because I named myself

I’m taken. 9-12-18 💕💓💗💞

Bitchy, kind, and chillish

My hair is naturally dark brown, died pitch black rn

I don’t drive rn

I shop at rainbow the post or the Haynes outlet

Idk I just throw stuff together till I look decent.

Tumblr even if they took the titties away

Queen

I have 13 siblings. My dad is a hoe. My mom only has 2 of those siblings.

I want to live in Canada. Free health care and seems like a better fucking place than here.

I really like the one with pink hearts

BH cosmetics

I shower like 14 times a week. Once in the morning and once at night.

The Walking Dead rn

11 in women 9in men

5’5

Sneakers

No

Going to a art museum and looking at the paintings together. Then going out to dinner. Then going somewhere and playing each other our favorite songs.

I have 27¢

I don’t have any on

I sleep with like 6 pillows

I work in fast food. I deal with impatient customers who curse you out if you forget a biscuit.

I have like 4 real friends

I wasn’t there to tell my great grandmother bye when she died.

3 times

(Ig this means like In gereral) Ian, Jayden, Alexander

(Ig this means like in general) Beverly, Tay, Carter

Vin Diesel

Scarlet Johansson

Jensen Ackles

The Perks Of Being A Wallflower

I try to. Go Ask Alice

Brains.

Yes I have multiple. Zander, Zay Zay, Car car, Z , Dumbass

3

Currently my 10 top songs are 1. hard for -Kevin Gates, 2. I rather got blind - Etta James, 3. Yellow - ColdPlay. 4. Killing me softly- Fugess. 5. Bottom - McCafferty. 6. When The Party’s Over - Billie Ellish. 7. Self Care - Mac Miller. 8. Panic Room - Au/Ra. 9. Creve Coeur 1 - Hobo Johnson. 10. Worst Luck - 6Lack.

Nope

Oily and dry ???

Biggest fear is being alone forever

I want 3

Whatever it looks like when I wake up

Medium size ig

Elliot Fletcher. Laverne Cox

I was told I have a nice smile

“ I didn’t know it was love then I just thought I had a mega crush on her ya know. It’s crazy. We were friends and then she became my best friend. I loved her a friend first then it turned into me loving her more than that and before I knew it she basically owned me. I couldn’t get her out of head. I still can’t. God I fucking love you. I just wanna hear her voice.”

I was like 8

1967 Chevy impala

If you do it cool if you don’t cool

High school and college

LGBT youth counselor

Idk really

Yes like little trophy’s

Yes not many

When I’m in a good mood

2,168

No

Only the old ones

Wendys

Honey mustard

Nothing or a T-shirt and boxers

No

Listening to music and drawing

Eh

Used to be able to

Never saw one

Coffee

Dunckin Dounuts

Yes I do

N.W

If I like their last name better yea

None of them really. Ig black or red tho.

A few people

Closed

Yes and no

When people don’t answer my texts but we’re active on social media

My mom

Mint Chocolate chip

Regular tf

Rainbow

A tie dye one I made

Lock screen - me and my two best friends. Home screen - “ Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you”

Both

Yes

Idk them

Yes and both

Yes

Yes

Haven’t eaten today

“I’m confused, what the fuck you want my heart for.”

Neither. Fall

Night

Milk Chocolate

October

Libra 100. Marcuss

Unusual Asks

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? 

is your room messy or clean?

what color are your eyes?

do you like your name? why?

what is your relationship status? 

describe your personality in 3 words or less

what color hair do you have?

what kind of car do you drive? color?

where do you shop?

how would you describe your style?

favorite social media account

what size bed do you have? 

any siblings?

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

favorite snapchat filter? 

favorite makeup brand(s)

how many times a week do you shower?

favorite tv show?

shoe size?

how tall are you?

sandals or sneakers? 

do you go to the gym? 

describe your dream date

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

what color socks are you wearing? 

how many pillows do you sleep with?

do you have a job? what do you do? 

how many friends do you have? 

whats the worst thing you have ever done? 

whats your favorite candle scent? 

3 favorite boy names

3 favorite girl names

favorite actor? 

favorite actress? 

who is your celebrity crush?

favorite movie? 

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? 

money or brains? 

do you have a nickname? what is it? 

how many times have you been to the hospital?

top 10 favorite songs

do you take any medications daily? 

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

what is your biggest fear? 

how many kids do you want? 

whats your go to hair style?

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) 

who is your role model? 

what was the last compliment you received?

what was the last text you sent?

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

what is your dream car? 

opinion on smoking?

do you go to college? 

what is your dream job? 

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? 

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? 

do you have freckles? 

do you smile for pictures?

how many pictures do you have on your phone? 

have you ever peed in the woods? 

do you still watch cartoons? 

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

Favorite dipping sauce? 

what do you wear to bed? 

have you ever won a spelling bee?

 what are your hobbies?

can you draw? 

do you play an instrument?

what was the last concert you saw? 

tea or coffee?

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

do you want to get married?

what is your crush’s first and last initial?

are you going to change your last name when you get married? 

what color looks best on you? 

do you miss anyone right now? 

do you sleep with your door open or closed?

do you believe in ghosts?

what is your biggest pet peeve? 

last person you called`

favorite ice cream flavor? 

regular oreos or golden oreos? 

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? 

what shirt are you wearing? 

what is your phone background?

are you outgoing or shy?

do you like it when people play with your hair?

do you like your neighbors? 

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

have you ever been high? 

have you ever been drunk? 

last thing you ate? 

favorite lyrics right now

summer or winter? 

day or night? 

dark, milk, or white chocolate? 

favorite month? 

what is your zodiac sign

 who was the last person you cried in front of? 

[fandomlife-giver]

Terrorist Maid - 1

Summary: By order of the queen and a demanding thirteen year old, we've found ourselves on quite an eventful train journey. I have a weapon perfectly suited for this particular occasion. It's hard as a rock, unwavering as steel, monumental as a mountain. 

Next time: Terrorist Maid 

If I couldn't whip up a homemade motion sickness bag or two, what kind of maid would I be?

Pairing: Sebastian x Demon!Reader x Claude

@wintersdoll

Warnings: None

Word Count: Suggestive sexual themes

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Mischief is in the eye of the beholder. It certainly was for you. He knew what you would do before you did, it was all there in your eyes. You had a busy brain, all those ideas for "rocking the boat" and so few opportunities to get away with it. Most of the time you were a coiled spring of frustration, then something changed, the odds moved in your favor and the sparks began...

He watched you in silence, studying your abnormal body language. How you were laying back down on a coffin, your arms stretching out, nails scraping against the wood, legs kicking up in the air as your eyes stayed glued to the ceiling.

You bit the edge of a smile when you got a fantasizing idea in your head, a vain attempt to keep your creeping grin at bay. The intention behind your perking lips wasn't something that could easily be ensured. It was rather better to be insured and hope for the best.

"Someone's a happy cat today."

You glanced over at him, the corners of your lips fighting a smile, your eyebrows slightly raised.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

The noise that burst forth was like a cross between a snort and a drunken laugh, you never knowing when to breathe between the giggles. Undertaker couldn't say you had the most musical of laughters, yet it was always the medicine he needed needed to lift him up on even the darkest of days.

"Unnie, everything is finally falling into place! After so many years, I've been chasing after something that only brought chaos into my path, that Angel kept me captive as a damn slave to humans and she didn't even know it. And now, because of that idiot Trancy I'm trapped in a new hell. I'm so close...this needlessly over complicated plan of mine will be over when he remembers..."

Undertaker was growing confused at the insane roommate of his. Humming to himself, he leaned over to the sink and splashed some water over his hands to wash off the remains of his latest customer.

"Dearie, why are you really doing this?"

Your eyes shifted over to their corners so he was in your view.

"I told you."

You made out a chuckle under his breath as he turned around.

"Did you now? See, I'm not so sure you did."

He tilted his head and tapped his chin with his nails.

"You say you do this for the sake of Ciel Phantomhive, you imply it's for past feelings of Vincent, and I am always catching you fantasizing about that black hearted Phantomhive butler of yours. By the way, I'd rather not see that again, if you don't mind. So I can't help but grow more curious as to if you even know yourself why you are doing everything in your power to put Lord Trancy in Lord Phantomhive's path along with yourself."

A sigh escaped past your pulled back lips.

"Unnie, I'm not sure why I never realized this before, but you sure do talk a lot when you want to find out something."

He let out a giggle as you flipped your body around to where you were on your stomach and you stared straight into Undertaker's eyes.

"To answer your question...first, Sebastian is my mate if you haven't forgotten..."

"I'm not sure how I could."

"...so of course I would be thinking about him, being apart as long as we have. Second, Vincent has always be a part of me and ever since his soul was devoured by me, I have been missing him. You should already know why. And lastly..."

The painfully excited smile of yours slowly began to fade away as your eyes grew dark at your next thought.

"The very first thing my master said to me after waking up was 'You're alive?'. At that moment, I felt something I've never really felt before. There was a painful throbbing in my chest but I wasn't shot nor stabbed. I was forgotten."

Your fingers curled up around the coffin as you relived the memory.

"Though different, Ciel is Vincent in so many ways. Being forgotten, left behind by Ciel was like it was Vincent who had forgotten me. That feeling...I despise it. I don't want to feel it anymore, and never again. And so my world has become blacker than it ever was before, darker for his absence."

Your eyes lifted up to where they were glued to his, determination swirling around in them.

"He will remember. And when he does..."

Your wide smile returned.

"He won't be allowed to forget ever again."

You bit your bottom lip as you glanced at the pocket watch sitting beside, the only item you managed to keep from the manor, and saw the time. Picking it up you felt your heart beat faster as you flipped it shut.

"The board has been laid out, the pawns aligned, and the two players sitting, waiting impatiently. All we need is the timer to start for the game to begin."

After tucking it away in your pocket, you slid off the coffin and brought a finger to your lips.

"Unnie, Ciel has found out that his childhood maid is alive. He knows she is 'looking for a new master', that she knows something about the 'spider' and there is evidence that she was involved with a crime linked to the 'spider'. What he does next should be obvious."

You felt giddy with excitement. You wanted to run, to shout, to tell everyone what was going to happen...but you had to wait. You couldn't sit down, couldn't read a book, couldn't even talk anymore. Your mind was like a butterfly, whatever distraction you chose for yourself your mind kept fluttering back to the outcome that was near. Then you'd get that tingly feeling all over again.

He grinned widely as he went over to the open coffin and stepped inside.

"So he's coming, is he?"

Your lips moved to the side in a smirk as your hair covered your eyes.

"No..."

The sound of a bell ringing erupted as the front door swung open and a cane tapping on the floor came, followed by two footsteps.

Slowly, your head turned to the small Earl as your eyes lit up, resembling a child's on Christmas.

He's already here...

●○○

"My Lord, is there any particular reason you wished to stop by the Undertaker's parlor on our way to the train station?"

Sebastian watched his master and his peculiar behavior as the carriage passed down the street.

A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of Ciel's right eye, his mouth formed a rigid grimace. His face, tight with tension, belied his youthfulness, he seemed to have aged a decade in the past few hours.

"Don't worry about it, it's just something I need to pick up."

His eyes narrowed, suspicion etched in his face because he wasn't sure if he was supposed to believe that or not.

With arms folded tightly across his broad chest he bit his bottom lip furiously and all the while stared out of the window. This fitfully sunny morning would either see the dawn of his new life or snap his dreams in two.

His eyes finally looked away from the outside as he knew they were nearing the parlor and they snapped to his butler that sat across from him.

"Sebastian, we're going to have a new servant in the household. Training won't be necessary, she has plenty experience."

He took a deep breath before straightening up and regaining a straight face.

"All you need to do is have her meet the servants, that's all. And she'll be accompanying us on this case."

Slightly turning his head, Sebastian already knew who he was talking about and although a part of him was tingling of excitement at the thought of you two alone in the manor or the train, a large part of him was closed off, calculating, because he also knew you were planning this and what he couldn't understand was why you were.

Closing his eyes, Ciel turned his head back to the window just as the carriage slowed down t a stop in front of the parlor.

"We're here."

●○○

Like hail on a glass pane, the drumming of your fingers were as relentless as it was loud. Each click of the french polished nails on the table echoed the tumultuous thudding of your heart beat.

It took a number of muscles in your face to hide the huge smile you wanted to show, but you managed a polite smile filled with warmth.

"Lord Phantomhive, what a wonderful surprise."

He only offered a nod of the head as Sebastian stepped inside and shut the door behind them. His eyes landed on you, but you kept your gaze on Ciel, waiting for him to speak.

"Y/N, where is Undertaker? I need to speak with him."

A chuckle came from you as you tilted your head and glanced over at the coffin beside you.

"You heard him, Unnie. Come on out."

There was the sound of a muffled groan of disappointment as the coffin door opened up and Undertaker popped his head out.

"Aww, come on dearie, I never get to scare anyone anymore since you've been here."

You smiled innocently as you sat down on one of the other scattered coffins on the floor.

"Undertaker, I need to talk to you."

With a throaty laugh, Undertaker opened the door all the way and turned his head to Ciel.

"It seems you do. Go on, then. What's so important?"

Gripping the top of his cane, Ciel stood straight, looking as confident as ever.

"I am Ciel, Earl of Phantomhive."

"I'm aware," Undertaker laughed out as he jumped down and stood beside you.

To add even more confidence, Ciel placed his cane on the coffin and swiftly removed his coat followed by his hat.

"As you are also aware of, there was a time when Y/N worked in my household under my father. From what I remember as well, I understand Y/N has been searching for a new master to work under. Fortunately, I am in need of a new maid."

From the corner of your eye, you saw Undertaker let out an inaudible sigh.

"There is also the fact I received this."

When Ciel held up what looked like an envelope with the royal crest on it, you rose your eyebrow in curiosity.

"You may read it if you like, but overall, her majesty is requesting Y/N's assistance with this case. Why, I'm not very sure and I would like to find out. So..."

Stepping forward after Sebastian took his items from him, Ciel moved over to stand in front of the both of you.

"Undertaker, I'll be taking Y/N L/N as my servant. Her previous role as head maid will be restored as well."

Sebastian's grip on Ciel's hat visibly tightened and you had to contain the wide Cheshire cat smile from appearing on your face.

Without even receiving a response, Ciel turned to you.

"Sebastian will bring your things to the carriage. You'll be accompanying us on the case we're currently working on, and we'll discuss the details of it on our way to the train station."

Turning his head to the side, his gaze went to his butler.

"Sebastian"

With a bow of the head and a forced smile, Sebastian placed a hand over his heart and started walking towards the back room.

"Of course, sir."

As Sebastian was about to cross over the threshold to the next room, an arm shot out in his path.

"Not so fast, butler."

Turning his head, Sebastian dangerously eyed Undertaker, silently warning him to move his arm.

"I'm sorry, my Lord. I'm afraid I won't allow Y/N to leave this parlor ever again. Heaven knows what could happen this time."

"Unnie"

You eyed his clenched fist when he didn't look at you and kept his head down.

"It isn't really your decision, now is it?"

Watching a vein pop out of his forehead, you stepped forward and looked down upon Ciel, before smiling and dropping down on one knee in a low bow. Placing a hand over your stomach, you bowed your head to him, concealing the grin on your face.

"I am honored to accept your proposal, Lord Phantomhive."

Lifting your head, your eyes shined with triumph.

"I am at your service, young master."

●○○

"Come on, move your arse!"

"Shh, Baldroy!" Mey-Rin smacked the back of the hollering chef's head, who turned to her while rubbing the spot.

"Hey, what the hell was that for?"

Huffing Mey-Rin shook her head at him in disappointment.

"Well you deserve it, you can't just shout out to all of London or you'll get in trouble."

He groaned as he crossed his arms angrily, resembling a toddler who was shushed by a parent.

"I can't help it, we've been in this line for hours! I thought master said we had a reservation."

Finny sighed as he looked around at all the people waiting in the several long lines to buy train tickets.

"Speaking of, where is the young master anyway? Didn't he say he'd meet us here?"

Humming, Mey-Rin leaned against the metal bars keeping them in line.

"Finny, he told us to wait by our train because he was running an errand and it might take up his time."

Bard scoffed as he rubbed the back of his head and looked out again at the sea of people in kine.

"Better be a damn important errand, 'cause this doesn't feel worth it."

Finny's eyes snapped wide open when he caught sight of a black carriage pulling up into the station and a man walking up to it.

"Wait a second...there he is!"

They all turned the heads to the carriage as it continued riding in closer to the point it was parting the crowd. Bard dramatically sighed.

"Ugh, finally! Sure took his bloody time."

When the carriage halted to a stop right beside the growing line of people, the door swung open and Sebastian was the first to step down. Afterwards, he held out a hand which Ciel took and stepped down right after.

The second  he looked up and saw the servants, he sighed out of irritation.

"What are you all doing here? I told you to wait for me by the train we were departing on."

Bard muttered under his breath.

"We tried, and when we said we were servants of Phantomhive, the damn bastard laughed in our face and told us we had to get in line like everyone else."

Ciel put a palm to his forehead, rubbing it at the forming headache.

"You mean you gave up that easily?"

The servants went white at the new yet familiar voice.

Mey-Rin leaned over to them.

"H-Hold on...that sounded like..."

She trailed off her sentence as a heeled boot stepped down onto the cement ground. Your hand wrapped around the door as it closed it, which gave them the reveal of you.

Their eyes widened and one of their jaws dropped.

Your eyes narrowed in disappointment.

"You're Phantomhive servants, are you not? Your master tells you to do something, no matter how challenging, you make it happen."

Ciel didn't notice their actual pure shocked expressions and only gestured to you.

"I'm sure you all remember Y/N L/N from the dam incident last week. If you didn't know already, she used to be the head maid under the previous master. She'll be working with us starting now and will be accompanying Sebastian and I on this case. When we return, you will know her as the new head maid."

Finny was the first to come out of his shocked state.

"Y/N-"

Noticing Sebastian's and your sharp gaze at him, he finally realized that he had to act like he didn't know you.

"Miss L/N! Lovely to see you again, can't wait to work with you."

He elbowed Mey-Rin and Bard so they could snap out of it as well, when they did, they only nodded along.

You smiled kindly. "Thank you for the warm welcome, I'm very excited to get started. Now, where exactly was this man who laughed in your face?"

Bard grunted as he pointed down towards the start of the line, you tilted your head as you caught sight of a short man screaming at his workers who were loading up one of the trains with luggage.

Ciel sighed irritably as he started over to him, but he stopped when you held your hand out.

"My Lord, I would like to take care of this if that's all right."

He was surprised at first, then shrugged. "Fine, whatever."

A small smirk twitched as you turned your body in his direction.

"It won't take long."

Pulling up your gloves tighter around your hands, your heels clicked against the pavement as you fastly walked over to him, passing by all the impatient patrons who were screaming at you for trying to get in front of the line, but that was the exact opposite of what you were going to do.

Once the man finished yelling at the workers, he turned around, grumbling to himself, but when he turned around he narrowed his eyes at you as you sheepishly walked over.

"H-Hi there. A-Are you the man who allows those with reservations early on the train?"

Nostrils flaring, he crossed his arms and stared you down.

"Who's asking?"

You gave a small, frightened smile.

"W-Well, sir, my master Lord Phantomhive sent-"

"Ha!," He snorted, leaning down to you with unamusement.

"You think I'm letting that brat Phantomhive on my train? Do you know what happened in London last month? I wouldn't even let him near my daughters. Over my dead body."

Ooh, this will be easy.

You began breathing in short gasps to the point where you were clutching your chest. Your bottom lip quivered as your body started shaking.

"P-Please, sir...you don't understand. He gets very mad if we don't do as we're told. I-I don't want him to get mad at me anymore..."

His eyes widened as you nearly collapsed to the ground, but he managed to catch you in his arms and you began weeping onto his chest.

"Look sweet, I'm sorry - maybe I'll just go shove my foot up his-"

"No, sir. Please, don't do anything rash."

You pulled away, wiping away your fresh tears and you looked up at him.

"You don't know the half of the abuse. Please. Please help me..."

His eyes searched yours, then looked between you and Ciel, you could sense the battle of thoughts going through his head, until finally he pulled away and placed his hands on your shoulders.

"All right, all right, sweet. He's allowed on the train, but any funny business and-"

"Oh thank you, sir!"

You wrapped your arms around him and kissed his cheek. His face went red as you power walked away from him and met up with Ciel and the servants. Ciel had his hands on his hips.

"Well?"

Wiping away the stray tears from your eyes, you smiled down at him.

"It is done, sir."

He hummed in approval before he yelled at the servants to start loading onto the train. As they scram led around, Ciel went back over to pay the driver of the carriage. Sebastian was watching you the entire time but had to walk away to go over the schedule with Ciel.

As this happened, directly behind the carriage you made out the sight of a man wearing a black cloak and top hat. He was looking directly at you, and when he adjusted his glasses, gold clashed with E/C.

A wide smile crept across your face.

[upshotre]

Not Too Young To Run Fruits

By Tony Ademiluyi In 2018 the Nigerian National Assembly passed the not too young to run bill which President Muhammadu Buhari gave his presidential assent to. The general public praised both parties for the realization of this bill as the polity is extremely hostile to youths playing key roles in it. Many youths are marginalized to the point of being mere bag carriers and in some tragic cases, thugs for the ruling elite who don’t want to let go of the sweet elixir of power. The then ruling Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) had its youth leader who was well over fifty years of age. Things were not always like this in the so called ‘Giant of Africa’. How did we get to this sorry state? Once upon a time, youths were entrusted with gargantuan responsibilities that made them stand tall amongst their peers and elders alike. Matthew Mbu was the Minister for Labour and Productivity at the age of 23 in 1954 long before he went to the United Kingdom to study law and end up as a world renowned diplomat. Anthony Eromosele Enahoro became the nation’s youngest editor at the age of twenty-one when he edited the Daily Comet, one of the newspapers in the stables of the Zik Group of Newspapers in 1944. He did this without a university degree. He moved the motion for our independence from Great Britain at the age of thirty in 1953. His younger brother, Peter Enahoro a.k.a Peter Pan edited the Sunday Times under the Daily Times stable at the age of twenty-three in 1958 and became the Editor of the Daily times at twenty-nine in 1964. Like his elder brother, he possessed no university degree. The late Bola Ige became the Organizing Secretary of the Action Group at the age of twenty-three in 1953. Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe started the struggle for our independence at the age of thirty-three in 1937 when he founded the irascible West African Pilot. Chief Obafemi Awolowo influenced the election of Ernest Ikoli who won the Presidency of the Nigerian Youth Movement at the age of thirty-two in 1941. Ernest Ikoli himself edited the Daily Times at the age of thirty-three in 1926 when the paper was founded. Prof. Pat Utomi became the political adviser to the then President Shehu Shagari at the age of twenty-seven in 1983 and Acting Managing Director of the now moribund Volkswagen of Nigeria at the age of thirty-five in 1991. Atedo Peterside started the Investment Bank and Trust Company (IBTC) at age thirty-three in 1989. I can go on and on of the monumental achievements of these illustrious Nigerians in their youth when they were still in their prime. The military intervention which destroyed the fabric of the nation and the attendant brain drain and exile of the brightest and the best to foreign lands especially the west left the youths without adequate mentors and led to this current trend of the breeding of overgrown babies who are literarily still in the diapers well into their fifties in some sad instances. It was with joy that the bill that was barely signed a year ago has started yielding fruits as the likes of Adebo Ogundoyin got elected as the Speaker of the Oyo State House of Assembly at the age of thirty-two, Abok Ayuba emerged as the Speaker of the Plateau State House of Assembly at thirty-three, Yakubu Danladi became the Speaker of the Kwara State House of Assembly at the age of thirty-four. Indeed this new trend at the States Houses of Assemblies is cheering news as the youths will be in charge of their elders in the various assemblies. These youths are officially the number three men in their states and can even initiate impeachment proceedings against their governors. The bill was a good omen to the beleaguered polity which was earnestly yearning for progressive reforms. This change has to find its way to the federal level where the oldies still holds firmly sway. The various political parties should de-monetize the process that leads to the emergence of their leaders so that the youths who are economically disenfranchised will be able to muzzle their way through. We need to encourage politics of ideas and vision rather than the stomach infrastructure politics made popular by the likes of former Ekiti State Governor, Ayo Fayose and the late Alhaji Lamidi Adedibu amongst many others who valued the belly more than the medulla oblongata. For starters, the amount spent to purchase the nomination forms should be reduced so as not to discourage brilliant but indigent young aspirants. The practice of consensus candidacy should also be abrogated as it makes a mockery of the wonderful idea of the party primaries which is meant to bring out the best in the candidates for the larger benefit of the electorate who have been receiving the short end of the stick since the return to democracy two decades ago. The electorate clearly deserves better and the soothing balm they need is for more younger and cerebral people to be attracted to politics. The polity should be made less attractive. It’s an avenue for selfless service and should be run on a part time basis especially the legislature. The do or die nature should give way for passion if the large perks are done away with. The assassinations, electoral manipulations, financial impropriety will not abate if the stakes are too high. Politics should stop being the last resort to wealth making when all options fail. In the west, politicians are among the poorest professionals. Bill Clinton left office in 2001 after over two decades in politics in debt. His millions came from his speaking engagements and his book writing. Tony Blair became a Member of Parliament at thirty in 1983 and was in partisan politics for twenty-four years which didn’t make him a millionaire. His millions came after he stepped down from Number Ten Downing Street in 2007 from speaking deals and consultancy assignments. The practice of our legislators being the highest paid in the world for doing next to nothing especially those who are either absentees or perpetual bench warmers should cease forthwith. The ascension of Ogundoyin and co is a sign of greater things to come. We hope this can be speedily replicated at the federal level so that the dividends of democracy can be better felt by the hapless hoi polloi who have been emotionally and physically battered since 1999. Ademiluyi writes from Lagos. Read the full article

[derekhaleimagines]

Remedy pt.2

Tags: @the-shewxlf, @megant22, @sexywolfsfordays, @houseofrahl, @sterek-basically, @kittycatgirlmaddie, @misshinehou, @unbreakablevoices, @champagneblues, @dallysgreasergirl, @juliaspnlover, @cineyou, @lipstickstainsandwerewolfchains, @fallenangel-13x, @urwarriorangel, @bless-my-demons, @lunaskyhunter, @arkhamirwin, @fangirlnerd101​, @m-a-t-91​, @meanwhilesmiley​, @edithambroreigns​, @totallovelesson​@kxttykatmichael​

Word count: 3605

Author’s note: I’m shamelessly taking advantage of the fact that I can now insert some good ol’ House gifs in my posts. Also, authentically depicting House’s character is way harder than I initially thought, but hey -- it’s my first time with him and I’m trying :) Aaaand prepare for some (a lot of) feels! Enjoy!

Betas: @i-am-a-misguided-misfit, @lipstickstainsandwerewolfchains, @mixed-up-fangirl, @kittycatgirlmaddie, @fallenangel-13x, @the-shewxlf, @b-chocolatelover, @from2016, @safiac, @random-fandom-fangirl2112

Masterpost

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“A shot man blacked out? You called me back to the hospital for this, idiot? There is no mystery,” House points out to me in a harsh, chiding tone. Clearly he’s moody because he’s back to work, and as such, he doesn’t fail to humiliate me in front of the entire Team for God knows how many time. But it’s fine; I’m getting used to it, and I’m usually not the only victim to his stinging snark.

“He doesn’t remember how it happened. After leaving the message I asked him further questions and it turned out that he hardly ever gets shot,” I say. House frowns at me, while his hand is rubbing his right leg instinctively, apparently without his conscious consent to it. A few seconds later, he averts his mesmerising blue eyes from me only to dart it at the dark grey rug, deep in thought.

“That doesn’t prove anything,” he states firmly, but the heat has now subsided from his tone. “Every cop gets shot from time to time.”

“Would it have been the better choice to leave him there just like that?” I snap. “I thought our priority was healing and making sure no one has further latent sicknesses by investigating until we’re convinced with one out of the many choices,” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest and giving House a meaningful look. When he glances at me, I hold gazes with him for a while before giving in to the temptation to lift an eyebrow at him. House is moving his lips and making faces in the process, while thinking through the options he has. No one speaks; we are all waiting for the boss’ decision.

“Alright. What’s your theory?”

My face lights up at his question—this means he officially accepted to take the officer’s case. I try to stifle my giddiness as I launch into my explanation, “It obviously has something to do with his brain. Most likely it was caused by Multiple Sclerosis or a tumor in his brain. I was planning to give him a CT and lumbar puncture.” House nods okay, and motions in the general direction of the glass door with his cane.

“Nice. Good for us, not good for the patient. Go ahead,” he says. I’m standing before he could even finish his sentence, and after closing the officer’s file on the table and picking it up, I head to the door with the folder clutched to my chest. However, before I’d leave the office, House warns, “If you’re wrong, you’re fired.”

The travel in the elevator seems suffocating after House’s threat. Cuddy has told him he’s not in the position to decide whether I stay or go, but I know him, and I’m definitely convinced that if he doesn’t want me to work on a case, he can sabotage my attempts to take part in it in any way.

Just to make sure, I quickly check the officer’s name once more when I arrive to the floor he’s housed on, then walk to his room, weaving my way through the few visitors and haphazard doctors. Upon entering, the man looks at me, and I give him a small smile in return, hoping he isn’t so worked up like he was yesterday.

“Derek Hale?” I ask politely, approaching the bed he’s laying on, now dressed in just a flimsy pale green outfit that the hospital’s patients are given. My eyes take a momentary glance at the monitor to see his ECG diagram.

“That’s me,” he answers. His voice conveys no distress, no anger, just resignation, like he’s surrendered to medicine. His eyes slip down to my ID then, tilting his head just the tiniest bit to align it with the angle of the card, eyes squinting to try and read my name.

“y/n Lockwood,” I introduce myself, for some reason feeling tempted to stick my hand out for him to shake. This is how it’s appropriate, right? He takes my hand in his—I’ve always known my hands are small, but the way his broad palm and long fingers wrap around it, makes it look even more insignificant in size. He gives me a firm squeeze, which I return, then we let go of each other. “I need to do a few tests on you,” I announce then, picking up his chart from the end of the bed, and pulling the pen out of the pocket over my chest, clicking it and writing on his paper the tests that are going to be done on him.

“What tests?” he asks curtly, crossing his impressively muscled arms in subconscious defence. I hang the chart back on the bed before walking back to stand next to him. “Just a CT and a lumbar puncture,” I answer. “No worries, the latter sounds worse than it actually is.”

“I’m not a vulnerable eggshell, you know,” Derek comments. For a second, I think he was offended by my statement, think that he took it personally, but the way his eyes twinkle slyly, I realise he’s just asserting his masculinity a little sarcastically. Once more, I reach out for him to help him move, but he dismisses it with a shake of his head. Throwing the blanket to the side, and turning to let his legs hang from the side of the bed, he adds, “I was just shot. I can walk by myself.”

I nod slowly, suddenly feeling embarrassed for some reason. My voice is a near squeak when I say, “Right. Follow me then, please.”

I wait while he puts his robe on to cover more of his body—the green outfit is short, like the patient is merely wearing an oversized T-shirt, and the V-neck of it leaves nothing to my imagination regarding Derek’s pectorals, collar bones and strong shoulders. He slips into his slippers, then we take off to the CT machine first.

. o O o .

“There is no tumor in his brain,” I inform the Team about the results of the CT. House gives me a look and narrows his eyes at me suspiciously. The only reason this makes me feel worse than usual is because this time he isn’t the only one standing in front of the rest of the Team—I’m there beside him, too. To relieve the tension a bit, I hold on to the folder in my hands for dear life, fingers gripping it just a touch stronger than a moment ago.

“You’re too calm,” he assesses. “Too calm for someone who was told could be fired if not everything goes smoothly. So I assume there’s more to it.”

I do my best to tamper down the smugness that’s bubbling up in my throat as I hand him over the paper with the results of the lumbar puncture. “As you can see, the amount of his proteins and leukocytes are increased.”

Chase’s head perks up from where he was playing with his pen until now, “That means encephalitis.”

“Told you it was something,” I say pointedly to House, who just looks at me in return. I suppose the knowing smirk on my face wasn’t overlooked by his insightful blue eyes, because he quips, “Come on, don’t be so happy about someone having an encephalitis. What kind of doctor are you? Sociopathic?”

I’m fast to react. “What if I told you I was?” I ask challengingly.

“The million dollar question is, what would you do upon hearing my answer, in case you’re actually a sociopath.”

“How about letting me know your answer and see where it goes?” I offer. The lightest, vaguest hint of a smile on his thin lips lights up House’s worn-out features. He tells me, “Go and give him antivirals. Also, make a test to find out if he has syphilis and check his body for potential marks of a sting from a tick.”

I don’t have to be told twice. I’m already worried about our cop just fine—I’m aware this is going against House’s number two rule here, the ‘don’t get attached to the patient’ rule. The uttermost policy is ‘everybody lies’.

I don’t find Derek in his room, so I have to go look for him. There was a case a couple months ago where we had to play hide and seek with the patient, and it was no fun for us; House was so livid, the Team was nearly snagged for someone getting fired. As for now, I couldn’t tell if my current frustration or my general worry for him is stronger at the moment—I know that if another blackout occurs, I would have to be there immediately. Besides, anything could happen to him while the time’s ticking by with me just searching for him everywhere frantically, even without him fainting.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take me more than a few minutes to find him—sitting on a couch next to the artificial waterfall, a woman on his side, the two of them holding hands. She’s wearing a black skirt suit with matching high-heels, her dark hair put in a neat ballerina bun, giving her a professional appearance. For some reason, it makes me feel utterly small, like she reminds me of the fact that I could never be like her; so strong, so attractive, so stylish. No, I’m just here in my jeans, my flat shoes and a casual shirt, all this adorned by my white labcoat and the ponytail I put my hair in this morning. I guess the clichéd roles—the queen bee and the nerd—will stick to the people for their entire lives. Inhaling deeply, I force a smile on my face before taking off towards them, but a part of Derek’s sentence is enough to stop me in my tracks.

“I’m afraid I’ll lose my job,” comes his quiet voice. The woman strokes his upper arm soothingly, then settles her hand on his shoulder and gives it an encouraging squeeze. Her other hand is still resting in her lap, palm facing up, welcoming Derek’s in it to provide him silent comfort.

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” she assures softly. Contrary to what it does to Derek—calming him down and giving him hope—it unsettles me to no end. I’m just about to inform him about the very serious illness that could explain his condition, and now this burden feels even more unbearable than before. “You’ll be just fine. I’m sure in two days you’re going to be chasing criminals again.” No one should be punished with having to tell someone their life is in jeopardy, or how long they have before their disease takes over. No one signs up for shattering dreams, but for healing and saving lives—saving their dreams. My body feels like a cage to me, from which I can’t escape before I’m done with my duty. With the lump huger in my throat, I force my legs to take me to where they are sitting.

“Mr. Hale,” I greet him. My voice comes out as a squeak, despite how hard I’m trying to prevent that. But seeing how his face lights up with the hope the woman gave him? It makes me want to cry, because I know I can’t live up to those expectations.

“Dr. Lockwood,” he nods to me, then motions towards the elegant woman on his side. “This is my elder sister, Laura.” I shake hands with her, but the smile I give her is tight, and I’m sure she noticed it, because her brow twitches shallowly. The grip Laura gives is firm, giving it away to me that she’s a determined person who knows what she wants, and isn’t afraid to go for it.

“Did you figure out anything?” she asks, taking her hand back. I’m taken aback by that question—usually, people start with something like, ‘he’s alright, right?’. Clearly she craves effectiveness and results, not beating around the bush. I have to swallow against the dryness in my mouth before I could speak.

“Yes,” I answer. The siblings’ attention is availably doubled at that, and my heart twists painfully in my chest, knowing that what I’m about to say is not what they are expecting to be told. This is why, I give them a meek warning beforehand, “But you won’t be happy with the results.” My voice is ginger, but tight. Even without my eyes dropping lower than their eyes, I can clearly catch the way Laura’s hand closes tighter around Derek’s. I struggle to go on, “According to the lumbar puncture, Mr. Hale’s leukocyte and protein number is higher than normal.”

“What does that mean?” Laura asks instead of Derek, tone calm and measured, but I can sense the underlying vibrating anxiousness. As soon as the words left my mouth, Derek tilted his head forward to look at the ground instead of me, like he can’t bear seeing me. It feels like a punch to the gut. I close my eyes apologetically for a moment, then explain hoarsely, “It means that Mr. Hale has encephalitis.”

This is the point where Laura loses her perfect mask of the sophisticated woman she normally shows to the world—it perishes silently, in the form of a fat teardrop escaping from her eye and rolling down her cheek. On the other hand, Derek handles it exactly how a strong man would do; he even has the capacity to wrap an arm around Laura and pull her close to him to comfort her, even though it should be the other way around. Laura, though, refuses it for being too proud, already wiping away the stray drop from her face, like it’s never made it there. Derek’s face is expressionless, and the fact he isn’t looking at me anymore stabs me in the chest. His green gaze is fixed on Laura, and nothing else.

I decide to leave them, assuming it’s the best thing I could do, but only after muttering an apology, despite I know this isn’t my fault. I shouldn’t let it get to me, and lately I’ve been getting better at it, but this single occasion ruined all my past successes. I go for the medicine I have to give Derek, then to his room to find a nurse undoing the covers on Derek’s bed.

“Erica, what are you doing?” I ask, putting the antiviral on the nightstand beside the bed. She turns to look at me with a smile.

“Changing his covers, if it wasn’t obvious already,” she quips. I can’t force a grin even for a second after what happened between me and the Hale siblings. Erica doesn’t fail to notice my unease, and she inquires, brows furrowing, “Is something wrong?” Setting down the blanket that’s halfway to being freed, she comes up to me, touching my upper arm gently.

“No, nothing,” I lie, asking the first thing that comes to my mind just to change the subject as soon as possible. “Why are you changing those?” I nod in the general direction of the mess Erica has made. She sighs and goes back to resume her work.

“He’s been going a lot to the toilet. Last time he couldn’t make it there, though, so his vomit ended up on the bed,” she replies, grimacing at the story she shared with me. Clearly the stink is bothering her.

I acknowledge her answer with a nod, then I sit down at the bed, now lacking the sheets, to wait for Derek to return, regardless of the aversion I have for that.

. o O o .

In the end, it takes Derek almost an hour to migrate back and to take his place at his now clear, freshly covered bed. He halts at the door upon noticing me, and just watches me with an expressionless stare. The stretching silence is deafening me, especially with the glass walls shutting out every noise, but this time I can’t bring myself to break it. Instead, I opt to do my job to give myself something else to focus on; I place the plastic pocket of antiviral on the hook above the bed and, after Derek laid down, I inject the other end in his vein. To my surprise and relief, he speaks up.

“How bad is my sickness?” I look at him. Derek’s gaze is darted firmly at the ceiling, not at me, making it clear to me he’s still uncomfortable with seeing me. It stings, but at least he’s now talking—I should appreciate all the small victories. His face is still devoid of emotions.

“We’ll have to figure that out with an MRI later, but right now, the priority is to find out what caused the illness in the first place.”

Derek acknowledges my answer with a nod, then closes his eyes—I get the message loud and clear; he’s telling me without words to leave him alone now. I don’t have a reason to protest, so I consent.

. o O o .

I arrive to the restaurant twenty minutes late. Rushing in, I scan the place, searching for my dinner partners. I spot them in one of the hidden corners, at a dimply lit box with a table and four chairs around it. I stride over to them with a wide grin, greeting them and taking my coat off to lay it on the back of the chair.

“Hey, y/n, long time no see.”

“Scott,” I nod, hugging him briefly before wrapping Allison up in my embrace, too. “Sorry for being late,” I say genuinely, sitting down. “My boss likes to give his Team all the work.”

“We know; everyone knows House’s reputation,” Scott waves it off with a hand.

“How are you?” I ask then, turning to Allison. She beams at me with a shining smile.

“The baby’s due on 14th February,” she announces giddily. “I’m perfectly fine, and so is my baby boy. Only two more months to go,” she drops her eyes at her extended belly, reaching up to rub it fondly, delicately. I chuckle.

“So he’s going to be a Valentine’s boy, huh. How do you know if the baby’s going to be a boy, though? You had it checked?” I ask.

“We don’t exactly know. Allison doesn’t want to check it, wants to wait until he’s born, but she’s convinced he’s a boy,” Scott explains.

“That’s cute,” I coo. A waiter comes to me to take my order, and after the brief chat I have with him, I devote my attention to my friends again.

“And how’s your internship at Princeton?” Allison asks. I shrug; honestly I really don’t wish to talk about that right now—I’d just ruin the mood with it, and that’s the last thing I want. I give them a subtle hint, “I don’t think that’s a fitting subject at the moment.” Scott winces and gives me a worried look.

“Did something happen?” I shake my head no, and pick up my napkin to busy myself with something—also to give myself an excuse not to have to look into either of their eyes.

“No,” I respond a little too late for the other two to believe it. Not that the timing would have mattered anyway; they know me all too well since high school.

“Tell us about it,” Allison urges.

“I really don’t think this is the appropriate time to –”

“y/n, don’t expect me to leave my other best friend tonight without talking this over with her,” Scott demands, a serious gleam in his deep, chestnut brown eyes. “Your face gives you away easily, you know, and I can see it’s something that deeply affected you.”

“Oh yeah, how Stiles and Lydia are doing?” I ask, desperately trying to lead the conversation in another direction, shamelessly taking the chance to talk about the other best friend Scott has without a second thought. While Scott is already opening his mouth to tell me about the other couple, Allison cuts in with a sharp, “y/n”.

“Okay, okay, got it,” I cry out, throwing my hands up in surrender. “So we have a new case since yesterday, and after testing the patient, it turned out he has encephalitis. And he’s a cop.” I take a deep breath before going on, “I had to tell him while his elder sister was there, too.”

“Poor baby,” Allison coos, reaching over the table to stroke my hand soothingly. I’m not surprised by her being so touchy-feely, nor the nickname she addressed me by—I blame it on the raging hormones in her body; thanks to them, she’s way more sensitive to emotional distress than an ordinary person, who isn’t carrying a blooming life under their heart. I manage to smile at her, albeit it doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

“We’re staying here in New Jersey until the baby’s born,” Scott chimes in to whisk the tension away, and the news don’t fail to light up my face.

“Seriously?” I ask, eyes excitedly commuting between the future parents, who just nod at the same time to me with a smile on their faces.

“Yes. And I’m going to attend controls at Princeton-Plainsboro,” Allison says proudly.

“Oh my God,” I chuckle, leaning back on the chair to rest against the back of it. “Give me a call whenever you’re there.”

“Definitely,” she promises. Scott places his hand on her belly to stroke it affectionately. I have never seen such an expression on Scott’s face before—it’s a mixture of responsibility-consciousness, fatherly protection, undying love and slight possessiveness. But above all, it’s meek.

Scott is now officially a grown-up man.