#at least it’s not breaking the bank or anything but u m—

[deus-ex-mona]

the miniature council passes a judge(☆)ment

[mega-bastard]

i was kidnapped by shiratorizawa ?!?!?!?!

this was painful to write, but like a masochist I did it anyway. this is my part of the the first Whorehouse Collab, located here. Finally getting back into writing fanfics since like 2015, this was oddly therapeutic.

I wrote this under the influence of magic grass after binging several wattpad fics, enjoy at your own risk-- by which I mean laugh alongside me LMAO

The ending is sososo rushed, in true wattpad fashion <3 this was 1.3K words of nonsense

When I woke up today, I didn’t think I’d end up in such a bind— bindings to be more specific. I’m just your average little miss no one, another everyday student easily lost in the in the crowd. Wearing glasses and being like super shy does that to u, yknow?

Now, blindfolded and tied up, I can’t help but wonder just how someone so unnoticeable had gotten snatched up so suddenly— perhaps that was had why you were taken (insert Liam neeson voice: I will find you, and I will kill you hehe >:3). Now, with the full throb in my head beginning to subside— I started to recount what had bringed me into such s predicament

~ rewind to earlier in the day ~

I’d only just waked up when I received a text from my best friend mina (bnha wink wonk) gushing about or schools volleyball match— to say she was crazy in love aoba Joshuas volleyball team would be selling it crazily underwhelmed. Especially their captain, oikawa tooru ! Most of our school did, but I was really observant of the people around me— he gives me weird vibes, like he puts on an act or something. But still, I keep that thoght to myself so no one comes for me. Seriously, he’s got fans like a Kpop star (a/n haha stan bts for clear skin uwu)

Either way, her dragging me to a volleyball game is nothing new— and as she’s blowing my messages up like the world is ending I know  what to expect this coming afternoon. What a pain, I had planned on watching naruto when I got home today :(

There was no telling Mina no, so when we enviably met to walk to school I was well aware I’d be attending the volleyball match today. Boring, but I’d manage— I don’t care much for sports but sweaty and muscley men are finer than fine, I’d at least have spank bank material hehe (a/n not to whore on main buuuuuut ;3).

The day flew by and suddenly I found my self seated on the stands, waiting for the game to begin. Mina was chatting away, so when the urge to go to the bathroom came I simply got up and left— I wouldn’t get a word in edgewise, everyone always runs at the mouth and I can never get a word in as a result.

Not paying attention on my way to the bathroom, I suddenly shivered— feeling watched. I looked up from staring at the floor and was brought face to face with...the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Team ?!?! At the head was the tank of a captain, japans number one ace Ushijima Wakayoshi (a/n a whole snack yumyum) was indomitable and a scary man to be faced with. Ushijima was still as fierce as ever; I say that because we’d gone to middle school together— we never spoke or anything like that but we’d been in the same classes. He scrutinized my small form with impassive olive eyes, I felt rooted in place at such a state.

I shook myself from my little reverie and quickly scurried off, heart beating a mile a minute. “ just find the bathroom and head back to Mina “ I murmured to myself, finally finding the bathroom after rounding a corner. The feeling of being watched finally lifting.

After using the bathroom and began to head back, I could hear someone...singing something? I began to head towards it out of curiosity, peeking around a corner to see a tall red haired guy and a grey haired guy— they were wearing the same uniform so they must also be a part of the team as well! Lost in my thoughts, I was only briefly able to dick away before the red haired guy turned around to where I was peeking.

Ok seriously, let’s head back ‘ I thought before scurrying back to Mina— who grilled me on my absence before becoming entranced in the starting game. I stayed on my phone for the most part, reading one direction fanfic— with the phone screen down waaay low (a/n who else has done this before ???). Id peek every now and again to watch, at one point catching the eye of the tall red head— a chill ran down my spin at his impish smile that I looked away immediately.

He was...cute. In a scary way.

A sudden hush flew across the crowd and I looked up in time to see oikawas serve hit clean across the net, received by some guy with brown hair before being set by some twat with shitty hair (a/n shirabus a twat, their I said it >:/) before the ball was spiked back with a force unmatched.

That was Match point. Shiratorizawa wins.

The air is oppressive, oikawas fan girls— mina included, are wailing. That’s my cue to exit, bidding a mina goodbye I began my way down the hail, the rush of the court fading into background.

Then suddenly, rushing feet and the crack of something hard against my skull.

Darkness consumed me.

~ back to the present ~

Now back to the hear and now, I hear murmerings-- voices I don’t recognize. I try to listen, try to focus in on their voices but I can’t as the throbbing in my skull takes my focus away. A whimper escapes me, and a silence sweeps across wherever I am like a breeze-- it’s scary.

“haha, is she awake?” it’s the sing=songy voice from before-- the red head probably then? I know I needed to say something, anything, but I was still to disoriented. The sound of shoes nearing me immeadiatly set me off, beginning to wiggle and move before I was held still vision suddenly assaulted with brightness as my blindfold is redmoved.

Standing before, me in all their glory, is the Shiratorizawa volleyball team??

It looks like I’m being held in...an empty dorm room? I’m trying to gather my bearings and cannot figure what to possibly ay before being yanked up harshly from a laying position. It’s the red head holding me up, wicked smile and everything as he crouches in front of me before opening his mouth.

“ You belong to us now, got it~” his voice is too cheery given the words he’s just said to me (a/n tendou owns my heart and soul <3333 ), and only now does my voice find me. “ B-but w-why m-m-me ? You c-can’t j-just do t-that, please just let me g-g-g-g-g-g-go !” by the time I finish blubbering, theres tears streaming down my cheeks like rushing rivers. Through my lashes, I look pitifully around at everyone-- landing on an umcomfortble looking kid with a bowl cut, but he looks away as soon as i stare up at him.

no, no ,no nononono no ones going to help me. the tears fall puddle on the floor, only growing in speed when ushijima speaks. “ You’ll be transfering here, become our manager, and be staying in this dorm room-- it’s already been settled” (a/n idk I’d be p happy to be shiratorizawa’s manager uwu) his voice is deep and leaves no room for any back talk, but my stomach drops at his next sentence “Semi, put it on her’ my head whips up, starring doe eyed at the grey haired guy from before as he approaches with...IS THAT A COLLAR AND LEASH??? (a/n insert debby ryan face)

my face heats up, embarrassed and ashamed at the idea of being collared like an animal. I try to wiggle away, annoying Semi, “Tendou hold her still damnit!” at that Tendou-- the red head, grips my face with one hand to keep me still, gripping it hard enough that hes smushing my cheeks (a/n tendou, t e n d o u, loml, how I cherish thee) . He mutters a quiet cute, so faint I think I’m hearing things, before the tightening of the collar breaks me from that train of thought. With that done, I’m released, falling to my hands and knees staring up at the entire team now gathered before me.

A tug on the leash tugs me forward without much effort, and the tears spring up once more at the humiliation. 

“This is gonna be fun~”

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

ok so I hoped you guys loved it <3 I’ll try my best to get out weekly updates, next chap I’m thinking I either focus on how ushijima and reader-chan actually do know eachother, shirabu and semi fiighting of reader-chans attention, or maybe tendou and reader-chan getting into trouble while draggin goshiki into it! SOund off in the comments and let me know what you think ?? anyway love you guys sm <33333

[purplesurveys]

1062

survey by chrissylee22dc

A

Achievements: I guess I’m being asked to list some of mine...some of the ones I’m proudest of, at least, are graduating university with honors, landing a job (liking it is a big bonus), and taking up leadership positions.

Age: I am 22, but never felt quite like it.

Are you planning something right now? Kind of. I’m eyeing a long road trip to Tanay with just myself and go to one of their coffee shops, but idk when I’ll be able to do that. My wallet and bank account are still beat from Christmas lol (and until now I’m still buying gifts for friends), so it might have to wait until sometime next month.

Arizona or Alaska: I think Arizona weather is already quite like ours here, so I might enjoy Alaska a bit (if not a lot) more. There’s generally a lot more factors I find interesting with Alaska, like their food.

B

Birthdate: April 21st.

Build: I’m quite thin and underweight, but I actually recently made plans to start working out - both to make an effort to be healthy with myself, and also to feel good post-breakup. I’m hoping to see some changes in my body and build in the coming months.

Babies, do you have any? None of those, not sure if that’s still the plan for me.

Blonde or Brunette: Brunette.

C

Childhood sweetheart: Erm, does Gab count? We technically weren’t kids anymore when we first got together. I wasn’t attracted to anyone as a kid and was more concerned with growing my Pokemon pogs collection.

Current mood: I’m hungry and can go for savory breakfast foods right now, like shakshuka or huevos rancheros. Also a little anxious because I really don’t want to think about work, but tasks continue to pile up for a certain client.

Children, are there more in your future? There aren’t even any to begin with.

Coke or Pepsi: Pepsi just because it reminds me of Punk and my chaotic wrestling fangirl years.

D

Dad's name: Edgardo, but no one calls him by that full name. He has two nicknames; one of which he hates and only family and friends use, and the other is the name he has permanently introduced himself as in his workplace.

Dating anyone: Not anymore.

Do you plan on having lots of money? Don’t most people?

Dogs or cats: Dogs.

E

Elementary School: I’m not sharing that.

Eye color: Dark brown/black.

Ever going to China? Probably not right now considering the present situation. I’d love to go to the rural cities and have a peek into their country life.

Early or Late: EARLY. Lateness is a big pet peeve, unless the excuse is super reasonable like Manila traffic or a car accident.

F

First Crush: The first person I felt remotely attractive to was Andi, from 6th grade. Then she moved to New Zealand and the crush quickly faded out.

Fears: For concrete things, I hate cockroaches and fair rides. For bigger concepts, I fear getting left behind, failing, and not getting approval, and the idea of never being satisfied or happy with who I am, what I’ve done, or where I’ve gone.

Future goals: Have a place of my own, be able to sustain myself, and keep myself alive.

Funny or Serious: I think everyone has to have both sides. I wouldn’t want to hang out long with people who can’t be sat down to just shoot the shit with conversations that go a little deeper. At the same time, I’d be quickly bored with someone who talks about existential or philosophical topics 24/7 and takes everything seriously.

G

Grandparent's names: On my dad’s side, Dolores and Federico; on my mom’s side, Agnes and Jun. My maternal grandpa is the third in multiple generations of Abelardos in the family, but his nickname is simply ‘Jun,’ because Philippines.

GPA: We don’t measure our grades with that, but we do have a GWA; I’m just not sure how that can be converted to GPA. Mine was in the 1.47 range, which was good enough for cum laude honors. I barely missed out on a magna cum laude honor (which required a 1.45 GWA), so that’s something I’ve always been pressed about and I know I could have clinched it if the pandemic didn’t cancel my final semester, which would’ve given me the chance to pull up my grades.

Going anywhere this weekend? I don’t think so. I want to spend the remaining 5 days of my break completely unproductively.

Giver or Taker: Giver. I like pleasing people.

H

High School: I attended one school from kindergarten to high school.

Hair color: Black.

Hate anyone for life? I don’t think so. I dislike some people, but I can’t tell if I’ll feel that way for the rest of my life.

Hairspray or Gel: When I’m going somewhere or attending something fancy, I use hair gel to hold my hair down.

I

In 8th grade, who was your best friend? Eighth grade is freshman year of high school, right? In that case, my best friend was Gabie.

Is ignorance bliss? Sometimes it is. I like no longer being updated about Gabie’s life. Back when I still tried to push my way in, I was miserable. I stopped doing so over the holidays and I just stopped reaching out, stopped trying to communicate, everything. I’ve been a lot happier that way.

Is there anything you wanna share? That’s kinda the goal with every survey I take.

Ice Cream or Cake: Right now, maybe ice cream. I’m very picky about cake, and I don’t like the spongy ones aka most cakes I know.

J

Jumped rope for fun: That’s exactly what I use jump ropes for. I don’t think I ever used it for fitness or working out except for maybe PE.

Junk around you right now? I mean, not really. I have my embroidery stuff in a pile beside me, but I don’t consider them junk.

Joining anything anytime soon? Not planning on it. I briefly considered joining a gym as a new thing to do for 2021, but in the end I figured working out at home would be enough. Angela recommended the latter as well, so that’s how I abandoned my gym plans quickly haha.

January or July: I guess July? January always feels just a teeny bit stranger than other months, considering it’s the beginning of a new year.

K

Killed anyone: ...This serious?

Keeping a secret? I keep different secrets from different people.

Kicking someone off your top friends today? I don’t think that’s a thing anymore. Hasn’t been for a while.

Kiwi or Apple: Apple, just because I’ve never had the chance to taste kiwi.

L

Lost anyone close to you: I’ve lived 22 years, of course I have. I’d be very surprised if someone has lived that long but has never experienced losing people, whether from a fallout, from death, etc. Just this year alone I lost a great-aunt on my maternal grandpa’s side, and a ton of relatives from my maternal grandma’s side.

Last kiss, when and who: Gabie, three months ago.

List 3 people that you'll love forever: I can only think of Angela. And of course, Gab.

Lover or Fighter: Fighter, I suppose. I can be relentless. Right now with my breakup has been the only time I allowed myself to take a step back and not forcibly take things under my control for once.

M

Middle School: We don’t follow the concept of middle school here. The levels in middle school fall under elementary school as well.

Marital Status: Single.

Mom's name: Abigail.

Music or TV: TV.

N

Northernmost state you've been to: Batanes, which is as northernmost as northernmost gets in the Philippines.

Nickname: A lot of family members call me Byn, but for the most part Robyn has always been my main nickname.

Name your future boy and girl: I have yet to make up my mind about this.

Naughty or Nice: Nice. I never particularly feel ~naughty, and since the breakup I especially haven’t felt the need to be sexual.

O

Opened a piece of mail that wasn't yours? Sometimes I’ll open the electricity or water bill addressed to my parents out of curiosity just to find out how much we consumed in the last month. But nothing more than that.

Occupation: I’m an associate at a PR agency.

Owe anyone money: Nope.

Outgoing or Shy: Shy at first but I can get outgoing once I’ve warmed up to a person/situation.

P

Place you most want to be? Right now? I’d love to be at a coffee shop or bar at a higher altitude, with a view of the city. I used to go to a lot of these before the pandemic hit, but now I’m thinking of doing it again.

Purposely destroyed someone’s life? No.

Planning a major trip? Not really. Most tourist spots require swab tests and I am not having anything go up my nose.

Pink or Black? Love both, but I like pink ever so slightly more.

Q

Quit a class: I’ve never dropped a class. I’ve wanted to, but there was so much paperwork to fill out to do so and I also didn’t want to be behind on my overall schedule.

Quickly...the first word to come to mind: Whistle, because the pink/black question reminded me of Blackpink.

Quitting your job soon? No lol I’m barely two months in.

Quiet or Loud: I can be both, but these days I’ve been quieter.

R

Riding in an airplane: I have no idea what this is asking.

Ride, tell me about yours: ^ Same.

Running for any political office in the future? No plans to.

Rain or Snow: I guess rain, since it’s the only one I’ve experienced.

S

Siblings names and ages: Nina is 20, my brother is 17.

Shoe size: I fit anywhere between a size 6 to 7.

Shave daily? It used to be daily, but I haven’t had the need to since the quarantine began.

Shower or Bath: Shower.

T

Turning 21 was (will be): It’s been a year since then.

Texas, ever been? No but I have relatives who live there, so it’s one of my choice states to visit and stay at if I ever plan to go to the US.

Think you'll live to be 100? I doubt it. I don’t have any relatives who lived until that age.

Tame or Wild: Idk, tame I guess?? I don’t know what this is asking.

U

Unique quality about you: I feel like this is a question best answered by other people who see and interact with me more than I do myself.

Underwear on? Yeah.

Under your bed lies: Large containers with all the magazines I collected from childhood that I can’t bring myself to throw out.

Under or Over: Idk, you have to be more specific.

V

Virgin? No.

Vacation time left? I have five days left, including today :( I plan to be the most unproductive or bum-y I’ve ever been, because I have no clue when I’ll have a break this long again.

Voting in the next Presidential election? Of course.

Volleyball or Swimming: I like swimming more, but I like watching volleyball.

W

Went white water rafting? I don’t think so, but I would give it a shot.

Wearing right now: A hoodie that’s around two sizes bigger for me.

Write a sentence about you: About anything? I’m a little upset with myself for having been a bit lousy with survey-taking during the holiday break. I planned on taking a lot to catch up on the ones I’ve missed out on, but so far I mostly take just one a day lol.

West Coast or East Coast: East.

X

X-Rays in the past month: 0.

X-Mas plans: Had a get-together with my mom’s side of the family on the 24th; we hosted our own Christmas party on the 25th; and we visited my dad’s side of the family on the 26th.

X, does it mark the spot? Idk.

X-Tina or Britney? Britney.

Y

You lost "it" when? I mean, I’ve had more than one moment where I freaked out...

Your favorite song:  I’m really in love with Saw You In A Dream by The Japanese House. My favorite songs come and go, but this one has been a constant.

Your favorite place on Earth: Sagada.

Yes or No: Idk. I’m not enjoying these vague ass questions.

Z

Zodiac Sign: Taurus.

Zodiac Sign: Idk, I’m still a Taurus.

Zippos are neat, agree? I don’t have an opinion.

Zoo or Circus: Neither.

[lilibetts]

Sometimes A Girl Just Wants Some...

Falling in love with Riverdale, Theme 2: Spicy

Part 1/3

The 14th of February. A fraught time for the serially single in New Haven, to hear Veronica describe it.

“The end of Cuffing Season is nigh!” she proclaimed, holding an enormous dildo aloft.

(“That’s Colt,” their boss, Zelda Spellman, had explained when she hired Betty, upon seeing the younger woman’s wide-eyed fascination. “He’s a replica of a porn star’s penis. A very popular order, but also a very popular return.”)

In true Veronica Lodge fashion, she didn’t seem the least bit put out by this development. Next to her, Kevin Keller seemed markedly somber, but that was because his own casual boyfriend had ditched him on the very last day of January.

Betty, however, was indifferent in opinion to it all.

From her seat next to their workstation, she held up her pink mug with the penis-shaped handle in a toast. “Cheers, I deleted Findr from my phone,” she announced before taking a gulp of lukewarm coffee.

“Betty!” 

“Betty!” 

Both Veronica and Kevin were aghast.

“It’s barely February. What happened to TwentyTwenty being ‘The Year of Horny Betty’?” asked Kevin.

In her defense, she’d made that New Year’s Resolution last December, after one of those ‘look at your life, look at your choices’ epiphanies that left her life seeming very lacking. The reality of putting herself out there on a matchmaking app and meeting with the rare specimen who didn’t seem completely terrible and who seemed to have an actual body that was not 100% an ugly penis, however, had been nowhere near as exciting as she’d expected.

She was saved by Kevin’s computer chiming. “Sorry, satisfaction waits for no gossip.” He tapped a few keys and answered the incoming call. “Good afternoon and welcome to the Toyz R Us Customer Support Helpline. My name is Kevin. How may I help you today?”

Veronica’s computer chimed too and she pointed an expensively manicured, accusative finger in Betty’s direction. “Don’t think you’re getting away with this!” She hissed before taking the call.

Toyz R Us only had two brick-and-mortar stores, but it did fairly well with online sales in New England. Betty had only taken the job because she needed some extra spending money around the holidays, and she’d stuck with it into the following semester because she liked the new friends she’d made and found the atmosphere surprisingly enjoyable. At least she got to put her writing skills to good use, even if it was for composing informative, yet enticing descriptions of sex toys.

Of course, her parents had no idea she worked here, and if she was careful enough, they never would.

Veronica’s call ended much more quickly once the man on the other end realized she wasn’t Cheryl. Unfortunately, Cheryl Blossom’s brusque and insulting phoneside manner was such a turn-on to a specific subset of men that she really could’ve started her own side hustle and made bank. Ridiculous bank.

“No sir, I can’t tell you how much thicker it will make your penis. We do recommend that if you use a penis pump, you do so regularly and continually,” Kevin advised before tapping a few keys and removing his headset. To Veronica and Betty, he exclaimed. “That idiot just asked me how much bigger the penis pump would make his dick...my god, how would he think we’d know?”

Betty snorted as she stood, penis-mug in hand. 

“Hey!” Kevin called after her. “We weren’t finished!”

“My break time’s over!”

There actually were a few minutes left of her break, but she had a good reason for being sneaky. You see, it might be Valentine’s Day, but it was also a Friday, and Fridays at Toyz R Us meant freebies in the Friday Reject Box. Due to the sheer volume of products that got moved between Christmas and Valentine’s Day, management had provided them with *two* Friday Reject Boxes.

Betty was a college student at heart—if she was going to support her newfound lingerie and sex toy habit, she had to avail herself of cheap and free products whenever possible. 

Carefully sticking her head out around hallway corners, Betty tiptoed around the building like Nancy Drew herself, on the lookout for her coworkers. 

It had taken her about a month of working here before she stopped feeling embarrassed by the products, although she tried to always approach it as any other job...with professionalism.  Still, there was something illicitly thrilling about being twenty years-old and working at Toyz R Us that made Betty feel like a truly independent woman, more so than moving 350 miles away from her hometown.

Betty wasn’t inexperienced, exactly, but she’d been raised a very straitlaced 'good-girl-next-door' and while college had done wonders for her independence and self-affirmation, she still struggled with the idea of discussing sex with her friends/coworkers.

Luckily, she made it to the table holding the Friday Reject Boxes without running into anyone, and Betty wasted no time starting to rifle through them. Hurry, hurry, before anybody else comes and sees you.

In the first one, there was a Fingo Nubby finger vibrator, a very intimidating looking Booty Camp Training Kit that featured three sizes of anal plugs. She didn’t care for the pink crotchless tights but she grabbed the package with the lavender babydoll that had small slits for the nipples and a matching set of panties with an open crotch. That went on the table, and, after assessing the toys in the first box, the Sweetheart Choker and finger vibrator was added to the small but growing pile of goodies. Just the thought of playing with those was already turning her on. With hot cheeks, she turned to the second box.

Since she started working at Toyz R Us, Betty had been exploring her own sexuality, giving more consideration to what actually turned her on and put aside the time to make herself feel good.

She was distracted from the quick nature of her mission when she noticed a stack of dvd cases towards the bottom. “Ooh,” she cooed, intrigued. “The Seduction of Heidi.” That was added to her pile. She skipped The Best of Ron Jeremy and picked up 49 Positions for Lovers, whose cover promised better sex for couples. Well, the way her sex life had been going lately, Betty needed all the help she could get. 

Deciding she had enough, and that she really should be nice enough to leave some things for her coworkers, Betty gathered up her loot and spun around, only to collide with the hard body of the man who had been standing behind her. She yelped and felt a few of her selections spill out of her arms as she nearly stumbled backwards into the table.

Strong arms grabbed ahold of her, righting her, and Betty’s eyes widened when she realized who it was.

“Jughead,” she croaked. “Have you come to look through the Reject Boxes?” 

Jughead Jones was more or less her mentor on the Content team, in some ways her boss. It was him to whom she showed her first product descriptions for approval, him who she worked hard to please. Over the months, they’d gotten to chatting from time to time, and that had been how she found out he was working on writing his first novel.  

Over the weeks, they had shared their personal work—chapters and articles—for the other to comment on. Jughead encouraged her, Betty cheerleaded him. She came to admire him...his intelligence, soul, personality...and she liked to believe he did so for her, as well. He was thoughtful, too, in a way that threw her because none of her boyfriends had been this attentive...it had always been her that listened and took care of people. Jughead turned the temperature up in their office and kept it relatively higher than he was comfortable with because Betty had kept shivering and working with thick cardigans and hoodies on. He remembered how she liked her coffee and made sure their room had a steady supply of scrap paper and colored pens so she could work out word choice and technical phrasing before typing anything up.

One thing was for certain: she was ponytail over heels in lust with him.

She wanted him to do things to her. Things.

Jughead stood there and adjusted his crown beanie ever so slightly. “Uh, yeah, I’ll just…” he trailed off and, to her horror, he bent down to pick up the things she’d just dropped. All she could do was watch as he straightened up and glanced at the educational dvd and the choker before handing them back to her. “Here, Betty.” 

She couldn’t even look him in the eye, so she stood there, intensely aware of the flush climbing up her chest and into her cheeks.

Betty wanted to die.

“Thanks. Uh...I better go get back to work. I’ll see you when your break’s over. Bye!” She couldn’t get away fast enough.

Once she turned the corner, however, Betty did not head back to the Content room. Instead, she slowly craned her head around the corner, just enough to see Jughead as he bent over one of the Friday Reject Boxes. Scarcely daring to breathe, she watched as he quickly grabbed two dvds. Squinting, she recognized them. Scooby-Doo: A XXX Parody, and The Twenty: Self Pleasuring, which featured a bunch of solo female masturbation scenes.

Well.

She knew what tonight’s masturbatory fantasy was going to be about.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Michael Myers x Reader || Oneshot

Title: I’m Weak

Notes:

Could be considered the second, much later part to the smut oneshot I wrote but only if you want it to be.

Based off this quote, which has bene used in the Oneshot: ‘You’re scared of the way I make you feel because you don’t want to feel anything.’ by Maya Banks.

I dunno where all this inspiration for Michael is coming from. 

I love how acclimatised to all of Michaels insanity reader is

Plot: 

Dating, or whatever the relationship can be classified as, the infamous Shape reaches its horrendous peak. You’re frustrated and if he doesn’t help you out here, then not even the truest, biggest love in the world can stop you from leaving- because if he isn’t really there, it isn’t worth it. 

Warnings: Slightly Yandere themes, I guess? I mean, if this were a Hetalia Oneshot I would say severely yandere themes but this is already a horror character so. Yandere, I GUESS??

~~~

“You’re scared of the way I make you feel because you don’t wanna feel anything.” I say, not like it’s a revelation or because it needs to be said. But because it makes me feel better. Because I’m spiteful, because I’m allowed to be. Because it makes Michael breath- you can see his chest rise and fall as soon as it sinks in, and it is a glorious feeling to know that I’ve made his unfaltering, never ending emotionless composure stutter. “And I don’t understand it, but I know that engulfs you.” I take in a breath, stepping back. Every word that gets past my teeth and bashes off my lips is steely and cold, wholehearted. “And I know you’re failing.”

He doesn’t move apart from the breathing, but he will. He’s feeling more then he has since- probably since he was a kid. And I’m feeling more then I want, then I ever thought possible because by some twisted miracle I love him and I’m gearing up to leave him. And he’s aware.

“Well guess what, you can’t go through life that way, Michael, you’re human. You have to feel, it’s like breathing. And sometimes you have to feel your guts get ripped out but that means you care, and that can feel really, really great.” Its worth every tear. “Now, I care about you like that. But all I get from you is the pain and that’s just not good enough, I’m sorry.”

And I am sorry. Not for him, but for me. Because I know if he lets me go and I get out like I want to right now it is going to h u r t. But I’m not going to kid myself into thinking that it’s the end all be all of my life. He’s just a man, and he won’t kill me.

Michaels fists clench tighter and moves from the doorway -he was about to go out for the night, - back into the room. But only momentarily.

As if he didn’t even need to think about it, like I didn’t mean a thing to him, he reaches forward and yanks and drags his black t-shirt off of me, leaving me in the long sleeve I was wearing underneath. “Michael!” I gasp, as the collar scrapes up my face and the warmth and his smell disappears from me. My present and my memory.

And then, with that nasty little act, before I can even really focus on him again, the door slams closed and it feels like it shook the floor and the walls around me, and he’s gone. For a moment, I dumbly look at the door. I’m shocked- I mean, I knew it was coming. I initiated it. But there’s a big difference between waiting and experiencing and it is awful. I can’t believe it’s over. Michael’s gone. The behemoth that eats all my food, squishes my fingers until I let go of the TV remote, and keeps me tight against his chest at night is… gone. And all that, with it.

All of a sudden, surprising tears blur my vision and sobs clench at my chest and I feel… so, alone.

___TIME SKIP___

A week later, it still hurts that he’s gone and I desperately want him back. On the way to work and on the way back, the highlight of my day is driving by the places I know he would hide out, to look for any sight of him as I slowdown and drive by, and I can’t sit and watch TV, or… or, sit and anything because that leads to thinking about him because, evidently, my brain can think of nothing better then the most painful thing for me at the moment. But I’m not crying about it. I have a life, I bake. I work. I walk. I bought expensive ear plugs so I can blast nightcore in my ears as a distraction so loud that my brain goes white and blank. And, there’s always this dull, terrible aching deep in my chest full of dread because, ha! My heart just can’t get a grip and understand that he’s gone.

I’m just crocheting a scarf or… maybe a funny shaped blanket, with my loud ass music on-its some YouTube playlist of those frighteningly painful and addictive nightcore songs. The one I’m listening to now is a Carrie Underwood redo. ‘Choctow County Affair’, - and occasionally glancing up at the TV to see the news headlines when my fingers suddenly go spectacularly numb at a certain picture.

No, its not of Michael. But Loomis. That bastards on the telly, probably griping about how he shot Michael however many time’s and Michael isn’t human, but I have to wonder why he is on TV. They only bring him out when Michael’s been caught again and it causes me lose the breath in my throat for a second and hurt my ears as I rip out the earplugs. My ears ring as I try to listen in to what Dr Loomis is saying, as the headline at the bottom says ‘Deadly Scrape with the Shape’- news anchors think they’re so clever. Fucking hell, poor taste.

The newsman, Clive Weatherman-yeah, this guy gets made fun of a lot. Went into the wrong area of news,- waffles on with the same question and my head hurts. “What was he wearing, Dr Loomis? We heard he wore the same Captain Kirk mask he has the last consecutive times he’s broken free of the hospital- is this true? Does this say anything about his mental state? Its pretty freaky, to me. The viewers want to know.” Oh my god, shut up! I need to hear Loomis’ information, that’s trustworthy at least.

“Yes, he was wearing that terrifying mask, concealing his soulless eyes from me. He should still be wearing it, so if anyone watching sees a man in a mechanics uniform and a bleached Captain Kirk mask you should immediately alert the authorities.”

A relieved breath escapes me at Loomis’ warning. Michael hasn’t been caught, he’s still out there. I don’t know why that relieves me, he’s a menace to society and is better off in an asylum- I just know he’s free.

And… while he’s free… he can find m-

“I shot him twice, also. So, the man you’re looking out for will be bleeding quite badly.”

“Oh, fuck.” I exclaim, pushing off the couch immediately and zipping up my jacket, barely stopping to put shoes on before I’m at my front door ready to search for him- but a heavy thump at the door before I can even touches it stops me immediately in my tracks. Damaging, floor shaking bangs vibrate against the door harshly, and I open it. Michael nearly falls through it because of the loss of solid wall to keep up his weight, but stands up tall again, heavily.

My eyes go wide as a look on. He certainly is bleeding a lot, both his hands covering the wounds just above his rib cage and holding tight, shoulders rising and falling at a steady, much faster rate then usual. But, still solid and tall. Somehow.

But that’s not surprising.

Swallowing my fear and a good portion of air at the same time, I take him by the wrist and drag him the rest of the way in which is heartbreakingly easy to do due to how weak the blood loss has made him and close and lock the door behind him. Then I get to work stitching up the wound the best I can.

When you’ve known Michael for… I dunno… even just a couple weeks? One week? You learn the basics of surgery quick, so this is routine. Once its over, and my hands are idle again is when things get hard.

I’m pissed that he came here, after leaving like that. Because it was me, too. I wanted to him to piss off, and he wanted to piss off. We made a decision and he can’t come back and take it back whenever it fits for him!

And, I’m… also, glad he’s here. I don’t know how I’ll let him leave again when he has to. I sure won’t be letting him in ever again, after this.

At least that’s what I tell myself. I truly do not know if I’ll ever get better from him.

It mustn’t be more then an hour later when he truly shatters my soul and my heart. God, how did I ever think this would be easy? Not just breaking up with him, but loving him. Not because he’s a killer, either. Or unstoppable force. Just, plainly because he’s Michael, and my hearts done the worst thing ever in loving him.

He’s all stitched up and I’m getting ready to leave the room, go to bed. Pretend I’m pretending he isn’t here on my couch. This is when he gently, so gently, so heartbreakingly gentle compared to his… everything. Like this, this gentle, he takes my hand in his. Not even my whole hand, actually. Just his fingers, wrapped around my fingers, and as the moment goes on his thumb starts to rib circles into my palm. I try not to melt.

“Michael… what, the hell are you doing here.” I ask, and try to be firmer then his hand around mine. His grip twitches.

I watch, curiously and unsure of what to do, as he shifts on the couch and digs with the hand that isn’t holding mine into one of his pockets, and brings out a folded sheet of paper. He hands it to me, and as we hold hand’s he watches me assess it.

On one side it’s a Chinese restaurants menu, written in clichéd curly red script and clearly he found this in the garbage somewhere or in a gutter because its dried all bubbly like it was wet and there’s a yellow colour formed on the top half. But on the other side is familiar handwriting that I could recognise anywhere.

‘Y/N’, it says. And he’s written my name the biggest out of all the other stuff and twice as bold. Like he wrote it over a couple times. The rest is in messy scribble like he couldn’t get it down fast enough. ‘I didn’t know I could miss someone, but I do. I hate it. Not only do I miss someone, but I also wish to take something back that I did. I wish I hadn’t left you alone.

I’m going to let Dr Loomis shoot me, and then you’ll know I won’t do it again. And neither will you.’

Well… It could be worse, I guess. Slowly, darkly, I turn to Michael. “Michael… “Holding the note up, my hand steady from many months of Michael and his ways. “You can’t do this.”

He pulls his mask off and looks me in that vague, insane way. No emotion.

Coming back to him, because I’m weak, I lower the note and furrow my eyebrows. “You can’t get yourself hurt to prove a point.” Kneeling down by the couch and running a hand through his hair, I sigh. “I’ll worry.” I whisper.

Not even a quiet moment passes, of me petting his hair, before its not enough for Michael and he lifts me up onto the couch with him, our chests and everything else tight together as one of his arms hooks under and around my middle. Like it used to be, like I needed it to be. I’m weak.

Letting go of any last remining reservations, because even if I did want to leave or kick him out which I most certainly don’t he would never let me, I lean my face up to nuzzle in his neck. He shudders out a sighs, and tries to bring me impossibly closer. Its so warm and I missed this and I’m weak.

Finally, I’m weak, and this will be the rest of my life I think.

[shesquiinnsane-a2]

— ☆   PAMMY   //   @pmlislyy​   ♢

Frank, Ivy’s venus fly trap plant who just happened to talk, made a sudden rude comment about Harley’s outfit to which the red head quickly responded to with a curt: “Shut the fuck up, Frank.” The thing had absolutely no filter and constantly made crude remarks about both of the women living in the apartment, unaware of the meaning of his own words. He was a cruel little shit and yet Ivy kept him around because he was good company. Someone to talk to when Harley was out robbing some bank or sticking it to the Joker. Reaching out, she grabbed the remote off of the coffee table sitting in front of her before pointing it at the TV and pressing a big red button to turn it off. She turns in her place, ignoring Franks incessant bitching, to face her best friend. Harley seems bothered, by what Ivy isn’t sure. She knows she’s having a tough time lately. After breaking things off with that asshole Clown, she had decided to strike out on her own. Though she had eventually got a crew made up of Clayface (Who always used her brush and left mud chunks in it), Doctor Psycho (Who got drunk and tried to fight the microwave), and King Shark (Ivy liked him the most. She found him to be hilarious), the blonde was still having trouble finding a proper nemisis. All of the good ones were taken by the established rouges in Gotham, so after a particularly embarrassing encounter with the young Boy Wonder on national television, Harley had been a foul mood for weeks, smashing TV’s left and right. Ivy was trying her best to be supportive, though she didn’t understand why her best friend was so eager to get into the Legion of Doom– they were all just a bunch of sexist assholes. All of these things were just misguided attempts to do that. Well, to get back at the Joker really. She knew that was her real motive, though she’d never say so.

Ivy eyes the pizza thoughtfully as Harley approaches. Truthfully, she was starving from not eating anything since early that morning. She would kill for a cheesy slice. Her stomach growls as she rolls her eyes. “I control all plant life on Earth, not just vines. There’s a difference.” The blonde is taking a seat on the couch and the Seductress gently shakes her head in a desperate attempt to sway her from what she knows she’s thinking. “Harley, do not break my TV,” she warns as she thumbs open the cardboard box. The pizza is cold, but she still takes a big bite of it with a frown. She hopes Harley gave that pizza boy hell for being late with their delivery. She’s watching Harley, chewing her food, as she grabs the tall bottle of wine before pouring a decent amount of the alcohol into the mug she harbored in a cabinet in the kitchen. She’s nodding along, listening to her rant about her ex as she swallows. She shushes Frank from making an insensitive comment before speaking. “I’m proud of you, you know that. It took you years, but you finally see that asshole for what he is and that hasn’t gone unnoticed. But Harley, come on.” She grabs the remote and flips on the nightly news. Harley’s and the Joker’s most recent heists are competing for the day’s top story and Ivy’s pointing at the TV to prove her point. “You’re obviously trying to gain his respect or some twisted shit like that.” She shrugs, not wanting to fight. This seemed to be the topic of interest that got both women the most heated and she didn’t want to push it. “Whatever, just know I’m proud of you.” A brief pause. “Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” A way to ease the tension between the two that would inevitably follow this conversation.

THE WORST HOUSEMATE.   If Ivy didn't have a thing for enjoying the company of plants Harley would have smashed Frank to pieces by now.   Would have saved them both the malicious remarks even if he encouraged some of Harley's bad decisions.   It also would have saved at least one TV since her outbreak could have been aimed at him.   But if Ivy for whatever reason wanted his misogynistic ass around then Ivy could deal a few of Harley's own decisions.

The decisions came in the form of her own gang.   She hadn't formally named them but Dr. Psycho ,   who wasn't called that for nothing ,   Clayface and King Shark.   She doubted they were at the top of anyone's list of wannabe sidekicks but their sides were pretty kickable so Harley went with it.   From her past experiences with him , that was what being a sidekick meant. Having a sidekick ,   or many ,   meant she was one step closer to being a part of the Legion of Doom.   If good guys wanted to be part of the Justice League ,   then bad guys wanted to be a part of the Legion of Doom.   It was that level of a big deal ,   and for once in her life Harley wanted to be the big fucking deal in Gotham.   Beat being swept under the carpet by the rest of the wannabes which was what she had spent a lot of her time doing.

To conquer that ,   she had tried to find a nemesis ,   but after the Robin incident   —   Harley didn’t want to even think about another fight ,   another put down because someone thought they were better than her.   She didn’t have an ego but riding high on confidence came at a price ,   and Harley felt the need to prove that it was worth it.   She put a lot on herself to prove to the world that she was Harley Fucking Quinn and not the Joker’s lame ex-girlfriend.   Then she’d be considered for the Legion and she would be looked upon as more than a woman trying to play the men at their own game.   She would be a part of the game ,   a moving player for people to take notice of.   That may have sounded like a crazy dream ,   but with Harley ,   everything started as crazy.

She knew Ivy thought that everything was doing was because of the Joker ,   and granted he was constantly niggling in the back of her mind but that pushed her to do better than him ,   that was different from him. That was better than him ,   right ??   ❝   An’ I control my baseball bat !!   That’s all a gal really needs in life !! ❞   The spoken thought didn’t ease the want to smash the TV but she refrained. ❝ Fine but only ‘cause ya asked nicely !! ❞   Distracting her thoughts with cold pizza didn’t seem to help her mood but it tasted better than she had been expecting.   Then maybe that was also the fault of the alcohol.   Alcohol was a good solution to most of life’s problems ,   that or it helped create problems.   Then Harley didn’t need a helping hand in creating problems ,   she was a whirlwind of problems and Ivy was mostly a dartboard for her thoughts and most of them were way off target.

She had been babbling on about the Joker but Ivy’s words had stopped her in her tracks.   Harley honestly couldn’t remember the last time someone had said they were proud of her.   ❝ It’s usually more ❛ do better Harley ❜ ,   ❛ be better Harley ❜ not ❛ I’m proud of you Harley ❜ ,   what am I supposed to do with that ??   ❞   The blonde scowled a the screen as Ivy changed channels ,   she could feel the anger burning inside of her at the mere sight of his face. ❝ If we ain’t smashin’ screen then I may have t’ invest in a dartboard. ❞ She could even pin his face to it even the score. ❝ I’m kiddin’ !! Sorta   —   I mean yea I totally don’t wanna pin his face to a dartboard because why would I have to when I have you here !! ❞   She playfully bumped against Ivy’s elbow ,   trying to make her laugh.   Harley hoped that was the end of that because she didn’t need to deal with her emotions.   ❝ Sure ,   but as long as it’s not a Reese Witherspoon movie.   If we knockin’ him outta my mind we don’t need memories of cake and Sweet Home Alabama !! ❞

[the--blackdahlia]

You’re All That I Need Chapter 13 (Tommy x Nikki)

Title: You’re All That I Need Chapter 13

Summary: It’s the early 80’s and Nikki Sixx is in need of a band. There’s one condition: no other alphas. That should be fine, since he found three betas to fill up the lineup to become Motley Crue. Or, at least he thinks they’re all betas. A collab between myself and @callme-kaz2y5-baby​​​!

Series Warnings: M/M smut (18+ only please), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, mpreg, language, slight drug use, protective Nikki, extremely funky timeline (might add more as we go)

Tommy was a pain in the ass for the rest of his pregnancy, at least according to Vince he was. Mick and Vince took turns helping Nikki out to keep Tommy entertained. Tommy loved it when Vince was there, because Vince would let him up to either sit on the balcony or in the recliner next to the bed. Which pissed Nikki off but made Tommy so happy, so Nikki kept his protest to the minimum.

“I’m so fat,” Tommy groaned. “Vince, I want to go out onto the balcony, walk off some of this fat.”

"You are not fat, your gorgeous, but yes a few hours in the sun might make you feel better." Vince bent over to help Tommy stand up. When they got Tommy's feet under him, he took a couple steps, even Vince knew something was up. He looked over at Tommy, who was wide eyed.

"Uh...Vince...." Tommy's voice was shaky, "I.... I think my water broke...."

Vince looked down and sure enough, Tommy was right. Vince looked back up at Tommy, a million things running through both of their minds.

"How are you feeling? Let's get you to the bathroom and cleaned up. Then we'll call Nikki.” Vince told him, trying to be calm for everyone involved.

"Right now, I'm ok, and yea I would like to get cleaned up," Tommy admitted. Vince helped him to the bathroom and helped him to the seat in the shower, Tommy stripped down and hosed off. Vince made sure Tommy was careful as he dried off and helped him into new clothes and back to bed. Vince picked up the house phone and called the studio where Mick was laying down guitar tracks.

“Hello?” Nikki answered, the sound of Mick’s guitar in the background as he worked on the song.

"Hey Nikki,” Vince greeted him. He was trying to think of a way to tell him what was going on, and instead, he figured the best way was to just come right out and say it. “Tommy's water broke, he's fine, the contractions aren't bad yet but you probably want to get home."

Vince didn’t even hear anything besides the phone falling and Mick calling out “what the fuck is going on?”

“Is he on his way?” Tommy asked, gritting his teeth a little. Vince hung up the phone and sat down by Tommy.

"Yes, is that a contraction?" Vince checked in, ready to time contractions. He had a watch and everything.

“Y-yeah,” Tommy squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck, Vince.”

"Ok, up we go we are leaving, Nikki will figure it out." Vince said more calmly then he felt.

“Hospital,” Tommy nodded. “My baby is not being born in this fucking bed!” He got out of bed with Vince’s help. “Nikki’s had my overnight bag packed for the past three weeks. It’s by the door. Can you grab it?”

"Got it," Vince helped Tommy down the stairs and to the front door, only pausing for long enough to scrawl on a post it note 'hospital' and sticking it to the outside of the door on the way out. Vince helped Tommy to the car, and held his hand as he drove as quickly and safely as he could. Vince was so focused he didn't see Nikki pass him, going the other way.

“I think we’ve got some time,” Tommy nodded, resting in the passenger seat. “I’m sorry Vince.”

"Nothing to be sorry for, I've been timing them, you're about 5 minutes apart. We do need to go to the hospital," Vince had never been so glad Mick had found him the pregnancy book as an audio book so he could listen to it.

He was prepared, at least, he felt prepared.

******

"Sixx! Sixx! Slow down! We just passed Vince. I think they are headed to the hospital." Mick pointed behind them.

"Fuck!" Nikki pulled an illegal u-turn and took off after them.

******

Vince was tracking Tommy's contractions all the way to the hospital. He pulled up to the doors in front of the ER and helped Tommy out of the car. Tommy held onto him.

"Fuck...Vince it hurts..." Tommy cried.

Vince wrapped an arm around him to soothe him, while ushering him inside as quickly as they could. Once inside, Vince started barking at the nurses; Tommy's information, how far the contractions were and calling for help. The nurses whisked them to the back taking Tommy's vitals and hooking him to all the monitoring equipment. Tommy was anxious, it was obvious to anyone wouldn’t feel the emotion radiating off of him.

Once everything was squared away, they were getting ready to get Tommy upstairs to the maternity ward when Vince heard Nikki hit the waiting room. He headed back through the door to get the alpha.

"Tommy... my mate.... wh... Vince? Is everything ok?" Nikki was panicked and Mick was doing his best to reign him in. He wouldn’t be calm until he saw Tommy with his own eyes.

"Nikki, he’s fine. Calm down, okay? They are getting ready to take him up to the maternity floor, come on," Vince explained.

"Woah excuse me, who are all of you?" The nurse asked, hands up to stop the three of them. Mick stepped forward so Nikki wouldn’t rip the beta’s throat out.

“This is Tommy Lee's mate and we are the rest of his pack." He explained. She seemed satisfied with his answer, because she let them pass.

When they reached Tommy's new room, Mick went down the hall to the payphone bank to call Tommy's family. He promised that he would be back as quick as he could, because Tommy didn't want any of them to leave and was being very vocal about it.

Tommy's mom and sister made it to the hospital as Tommy hit full active labor. Mick left for just long enough to greet them and tell them that he would be back as soon as the baby was born. So they waited in the family room while Mick returned to his pack.

Tommy's labor was quick and with few complications, even though the pre-eclampsia had made his pregnancy hell. After a little while, Tommy delivered a beautiful healthy baby girl. The smiles on Tommy and Nikki’s face were something that made both Vince and Mick’s hearts swell. Once everything was taken care of and Tommy was cleaned up, Vince headed down to bring Tommy's mom and sister to meet the new addition.

"Tommy baby, how are you feeling?" Tommy's mom was by his side as soon as she got in the room.

“Tired,” Tommy smiled some. Vince and Athena slipped out of the room, since it was a little crowded and Tommy already looked smothered.

“Wow, it’s incredible that there’s two omega children in your family,” Vince commented as they walked down the hall. Athena just started to laugh. “What?” He looked over at her, wondering what was so funny.

“Stereotypical ass,” She smirked. “I’m an alpha.”

“Wait, what?” Vince’s eyes widened.

“Tommy didn’t tell you?” She asked. “Eh, I guess it probably never came up. And he was hiding he was an omega for so long. I’m honestly surprised his pregnancy was this smooth.” She looked Vince up and down and sniffed. “You don’t smell like an omega. I’m guessing beta because you sure aren’t giving off alpha vibes. But, you still have a bit of a scent. What the fuck are you?” She eyed him, trying to break down exactly what he was.

"Beta, the scent is from this," Vince held up his wrist. "It's a pack bond". She sniffed the bracelet.

“I guess that could be it,” She shrugged. “So, you’re in a pack with my brother huh?” Her high heeled boots made a clicking noise as they walked down the hallway, and Vince could just feel the alpha oozing off of her.

"Yea, we all agreed that it was the best option to allow us to tour and record without issue," Vince supplied. "But we all love Tommy and would do anything for him.”

“You better,” She all but snarled. “I’m assuming if Tommy didn’t tell you that I’m an alpha, he didn’t tell you how protective I am.” She smirked a little. “I might be younger, but this fuck face broke my brothers nose, and I broke his balls.” Vince was practically vibrating, she was the closest thing to sex on two legs Vince had ever met. "You are aware that was a threat?" Athena snapped, waving a hand in Vince's face, "You act like an omega. You should have found that terrifying."

“I...uh…” Fuck, was his voice squeaking? It hadn’t done that in years. And he was starting to get hard. Fuck, he was embarrassing himself in front of the hot alpha. “S-sorry…”

“You’re hopeless. It’s cute,” She smirked. “But I’m taking it that I’m not the one you have your eye on. The idea of me being an alpha does things to you, but there’s someone else.” She turned the corner. “Hey Mick. Need help with the coffee?” Mick had been staring at them as they spoke, but he had looked down when they started to turn his way.

"Uh, yea not enough hands…” Mick mumbled, a little distracted by everything.

“You gonna be a little bitch or are you gonna offer to help too?” Athena asked. Vince gulped and took two cups from Mick while he got a cup carrier ready. Athena smirked and looked from Mick to Vince. “So...are you both betas or what?”

“Yep,” Mick grumbled, not looking at her. Athena looked at Vince.

“Why don’t you go ahead and head back with that? I’m gonna help Mick and I want to look at the vending machine offerings,” Athena told the frontman.

“Oh, okay,” He nodded and headed off. Athena looked at Mick.

"Hmmm,” She looked him up and down. “You’re not telling the whole story. I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm pretty sure that pretty blonde might have a thing for you, just like I'm pretty sure you're not just a beta." Athena gave him another once over before heading to the vending machines. Mick headed back with the rest of the coffees and Athena joined them a few minutes later.

Forever Tags: @dekahg​ @marvel-af-imagines​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @nanie5​ @imboredsueme​ @gemini0410​ @aiaranradnay​ @babypink224221​ @mogarukes​ @xxwarhawk​ @sandlee44​ @shatteredabby​ @caswinchester2000​ @lauravic​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @teller258316​ @horrorpxnk​ @tommyleeownsme​ @marvelismylifffe​ @mrslogansixxpixx​

Motley Crue Tags: @primal-screamer​ @waywardprincess666​ @twistnet​ @saint-of-los-angeles​  @motleyfuckingcruee​ @sharon6713​ @kawennote09​ @2dead2function​ @nikkisixxwiththebass​ @iamtiber-andtiberismusic-deacti​ @jayprettymuchomw​ @charlyallise​ @you-know-im-a-dreamer​ @sweet-dreams-on-butterfly-wings​ @arianareirg​ @the-normal-potato​ @nikki-sixxtynine @jjjjjjjoshdun​ @just-a-normal-fangirl18​ @stella20131991​ @tarahell​ @wowilovenikkisixx​ @i-want-to-shoot-myself​ @motleycrueee​ @sams-serialkiller-fetish​ @getbackhonkycatt​ @are-you-reddie54321​ @scarecrowmax​  @anyasthoughts​ @bandaids-not-groupies​ @ilovetomkeiferslips​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @useyourillusion​ @xpoisonousrosesx​ @slash-me-up​ @hauntedapricoteggsclam​ @punkrock-lobster​ @lucyboytom​ @ozzy-dumbass-of-darkness @reigns420​ @solopadawan​

[diningpageantry]

It's All For Him

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215168/chapters/43256687

Chapter 7/10 of It’s A Handheld Disaster

Word Count: 1168

Chapter Summary: Desperate times call for dramatically impulsive measures. As in, Baz makes a quick decision and a long drive.

BAZ

It starts flowing from him. Every word I know he’s kept up--every little thought, every small nick on his mind flowing out onto a continuous thought, broken relatively regularly by a stutter. Must be something he has, or at least something that reappears when he’s overworked.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck,” he lets stream. “First of all, you’re bloody real. I-I-I-I can’t believe you’re real. You’re real. Are you real?”

I exhale slowly, cheeks pulling into a guilty, sad smile. “I’m real, Snow,” I mutter into the speaker, heart aching.

“Fuck,” he cries, then he’s cut by the sound of muffled words, the speaker crackling a bit. Must be covering his mouth. He continues, after a moment. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’m s-so sorry. I’m--this is ridiculous. I’m ridiculous. I-I-I sh-should stop talking, it’s just… Penny. And Davy. And Aggie. And bloody you…” He pauses briefly, catching his breath. I can hear his exhale. It’s shaky and terrifying. “It’s everything. I’m--Davy. He’s too much. I-I know I told you h-he isn’t, but he is. Too strict. Too strict too strict too…”

“Breathe,” I interject, eyes squeezed shut as I listen intently. Counting the seconds, I pay attention to the shaking inhale and exhale from his side. We're only a couple seconds in and he's starting to scare me. Brilliant. I'm in far too deep.

“I’m sorry,” he starts off with. “He’s just… loud. Angry. So close. Won’t get far… I need to get away. I’m scared--I have no reason to be, but I’m so scared. All the time. I u-used to be okay, but he’s scaring me, but I have nowhere to go. And I’m scared, Baz.” Hearing my name makes it exponentially worse. I take another quiet drag to calm my nerves, eyes squeezing tighter as I hear him continue. “I’m just scared of everything.

“I’m scared of Penny hating me, o-o-o-o-or just being friends with me out of convenience. I-I-I know she says she c-c-cares, but what if she’ll just d-ditch me after school? I put her through t-t-t-too much. I put everyone through too much.” He gets quiet for a moment before dropping his voice to a near whisper. “I’m sc-scared of you drinking and smoking. I’m scared you do it to hurt yourself.”

My eyes flutter open, dropping to my cigarette as the taste lingers in my mouth. Guiltily, I stub it out onto the stone, eyes falling back shut as I'm dead silent. I can’t deny it. It’d be a lie.

“A-and I know, I have n-no place to say anything, but I’m scared. I get worried. I want you s-safe. I don’t talk about it, b-b-b-but I care so much. All the time.

“B-But I’m not really good enough to deserve that care back. That’s the th-th-th-th-thing. I’ll never be good enough, n-not even for love! Aggie br-broke it off because I’m unlovable, a-and I don’t know what to do. I’m--”

“Where are you right now?” I break in, at last. The anxieties clenching at my body make my throat constrict even as I speak, but I push past it. I need to say this. It’s too much just hearing him speak feels--it's like a knife digging into my side. Hearing him say he’s unlovable is too much. If it’s time to be irrational, then it’s time to make dramatic choices.

“Wh-what?”

“I asked where you are right now,” I ease out, sighing quietly at the end.

“U-um,” he starts, and pauses. Not a good sign, to start with. “P-park. Public park. ‘M by the swings.”

“Where is that, Simon?”

“I--no.”

“Why?”

“You’ll call the cops, or something,” he mumbles fearfully, voice growing softer as his voice crackles in the microphone. “I can’t…”

“I won’t,” I promise quickly. “I’m not going to call the cops, just… tell me. Where are you?”

He says a place up in Newcastle, which doesn’t settle well in the slightest. That’s…at least six hours, if I drive. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. “Shit,” I whisper, rubbing my thumbs over my temples.

“What?” He sounds nervous. Even better.

“No. Nonono,” I begin, trying to think. Six hours and it’ll be nearly midnight. Then what? No, fuck it. No. Doesn’t matter. We’ll figure out there. “Hold tight, please. Do you trust me?”

He pauses audibly, the line going silent for all but for the whistle of the wind. “I…”

“Do you trust me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then hold tight. Get comfortable, it’s going to be a few hours.”

Another pause, then a final breath of relief. “Okay.”

Once I click off (reluctantly) from the call, I clear the evidence of my cigarettes and head off to the house, fiddling with the mobile in my hands. Inside, through the maze, I find my father in his study looking over paperwork with a pen in hand. I bother knocking, despite the door hanging open. He pops his head up, narrowing his eyes at me. Before he has a moment to question, I interject quickly.

“I’m heading off for the weekend.”

“Where?”

“Aunt Fi’s,” I lie, throat feeling even tighter than usual. Maybe not a lie. We'll find out. “I need to get out into the city. It’s a deathly bore around here.”

“Are you bringing Devon and Niall with you?”

“No, they’ve got class. I’ll be safe, I promise.”

He scans over me, going from head-to-toe, then back up again. It’s a sad routine of ours; his hesitation in any attempts of me living, then my attempts to seem as innocent as possible.

“I’ll see if I can visit campus while I’m there,” I add as an incentive, knowing quite well how much he wants me to go to LSE. “Might have to stay ‘til Monday…”

“That’s quite enough, Basilton,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. I shut up immediately, standing bolt upright as he sighs. “Do you need petrol for the drive?”

“Yes,” I say quickly, fiddling with my phone case. “I mean, yes, please. Thank you, father.”

His eyes drop back to his paper, lips twitching into his classic apathetic frown. “Right, well, I’ll add enough to your account, and money for food. God knows your Aunt doesn’t have any non perishables in that awful studio flat.”

Internally, I grin like a madman. I’m jumping and crying thankful sobs, but externally, I simply nod politely. “Thank you,” I say again, giving the smallest of smiles before running off to throw together a long weekend bag. Once I hit the car, I check to see my bank account.

While starting it up, I scroll my notifs. No word from Snow, but that should be fine. Everything should be fine.

The route seems painstakingly long, and I barely have enough energy to make it to London most weeks, so this will be… an experience.

Nonetheless, this isn’t just for anybody, of course. It’s for Simon, and that, frankly, is all that fucking matters.

Simon, his comfort, and his safety. And I’m going to assure that I’ve got control of all three of those.

[nyota-sungura]

@vucto | Charlie ;; { Protection }

             It was a normal day like any other. She woke up, Dakota put the coffee on, they had breakfast and went about their usual days. She wasn’t the one opening the shop today because she needed to go to the nursing home for her part-time shift as a care taker. It was easier there, the elderly folk were undeniably adorable and kind and she enjoyed spending time with them. When she’d gotten back, Dakota had to leave for his part-time shift with the cleaning service so they caught up shortly over lunch and again, went about their usual days. So why had it ended up like this? Her heart was stuttering in her chest as she found herself staring down the barrel of a loaded handgun and her words wouldn’t come out. What was going on? Why were they here? At first she thought maybe it was another incident like the past but with a different weapon this time around. 

It wasn’t though. She was being instructed to stand away from the registers. So it was a simple robbery? Somehow she felt relieved. So long as she did nothing and said nothing, it would be fine. The shop was doing well so losing a day’s profit wouldn’t hurt. They didn’t have a safe and everything was kept in banking, so it really wouldn’t be a problem. Except when she glanced up and saw the clock. Immediately her heart lunged into her throat. This was about the time Kuron came to visit. In that instance she was hyper-aware of everything that was happening. The click of the hammer, the yelled instructions to not move even though she was beginning to fidget-- what was she going to do if he showed up here? 

What would he do if he saw this? He’d probably try to jump in, right? No, she couldn’t let that happen. Charlie didn’t want him to get hurt. She couldn’t let him get hurt. Not over something like this. Her frame shifted a little more,”I’m j-just standing i-in front of th-the door so no o-one sees, okay?” Her hands are kept up, there’s no obvious signs but they’re getting even more disgruntled with her actions. “Y-You can really t-take it, its f-fine. I d-don’t want any u-unnecessary trouble. It’d b-be even m-more of a p-pain if police w-were involved. I’m t-too anxious t-to deal with th-them, really.” She’s trying rationality but where was the rationality in a small time robbery? These guys probably hit up the first place that looked convenient. What was easier than a shop with only one very small girl standing in it? 

What she was trying to do was block the door and make it impossible to get in without breaking it at least. Though somewhere in her thoughts, she figured if anyone could, it’d be him. Still, she just kept bowing her head and keeping her hands up when shouted and cursed at. Something she was used to yet still terrified her. She felt like she couldn’t breathe when she saw that familiar figure out of the corner of her widened eyes. No no no, go back, please go back. Her breath hitches and she swiftly locks the door while they’re focusing on each other and the task at hand. Good, he can’t get in. That was the simplest solution in her mind. Make sure he can’t get in and give directions for them to leave out the back instead. 

Except-- why was one already staring her down like he already knew what she was doing? She clenched her jaw and waited a few seconds until she heard those words. What? Ya expectin’ somebody, sweetheart? In an instant, her demeanor shifted at that cretinous voice. She lowered her body just a bit, brows furrowed and determination on her features. When it came to bravery, Charlie was the least likely to have it-- unless someone she cared for was in harm’s way. If they were? She’d go through hell itself to keep them safe. “Y-Yes and y-you should g-go now.” There’s a cackle in the air and it grates her nerves, chills her spine. This isn’t going to end well, she thinks. Because now they’re confident-- no, they’re arrogant. Anyone could hold a gun but only the true idiots got cocky with it. 

“P-Please go, out th-the back,” she’s not paying attention to anything else now. Her frame blocking the door, fingertips flexing slightly as she tries to calm herself down as much as she can. She’s already calculated the most plausible thing she can do if it comes down to it, strategy was her forte even if she didn’t realize it most of the time. Her constant need to escape made her quite the strategist and right now she was trying to apply that to this situation but instead of escape-- she was trying to get rid of them before anything could happen to him. Teal hues dart between them and she goes over every second they’d been here. Only two were carrying long range weapons and one was carrying a blade. No matter how much one planned though, you could never really plan for every variable with unpredictable and egotistical opponents. 

We're not done yet, so no. Her heart thrums violently in its ivory cage and she clenches her teeth,”I’ll h-have to insist.” It happens in a flash. Somehow its not as bad as she thought it might’ve been. Perhaps because it happened so quickly. Her back hit the door and it took a long few minutes for her to even realize what had happened. Red splashed across the floors and her first thought was having to clean that up later. Her second was wondering where it came from. Her third was a realization that it came from the bullet that seared through her right ribs. The wind was knocked out of her, she needs to remember to breathe throughout the panicked shouts of the idiots in front of her. Why’d ya go and do that for ya fucking moron?! Robbin’ ‘er was one thing but murder ain’t somethin’ I’m gonna do time for! 

Ah, so they really were morons, she thinks. Her legs feel heavy. Or was that her arms? She’s not sure when she ends up sliding downwards to the floor. Her first instinct isn’t to check herself though but instead, to check the glass behind her and make sure the bullet hadn’t gone through. Luckily, it hadn’t. A quick assessment, it must’ve been stopped by hitting one of her bones. Right. She’ll have to fix that later. Her breaths are hitching but it doesn’t matter, it didn’t go through, that’s all she cares about. She barely even hears the panicked footsteps and closes her eyes to try to find some focus. Adrenaline is her best friend, really-- she lived with it constantly so she barely felt a thing right now. That didn’t ease up the tension in her spine nor the weight of her limbs though. 

Crystalline flowers had already started to sprout through her skin by the time she got her wits about her enough to shakily reach up with bloodied fingers to grasp the lock. She couldn’t just leave him out there. He’s probably panicking right? Her vision isn’t doing too well right now so she can’t tell, but she barely manages to flip the latch before her arm just falls to her side. So long as he was fine, it was okay. This much she could deal with. 

[lethe-rpg]

A perfect life. That is what Hale Avci had. A roof over her head, a family that cared, friends who showed her love and support. When it came down to it, that’s all a girl needs to be happy, and happy she was. Now, that goes without saying, because being happy wasn’t easy. Hale lived in her older sister’s shadow a fair bit. Fayre was more than great at everything she did, anything she set her mind to. Hale was able to appreciate that about her sister, about being such a natural for her families’ line of work, but there comes a point when jealousy begins to settle within. It didn’t last long, though. In fact, Hale soon found solace in the fact that her parents didn’t pay as much attention to her as they did with Fayre. Her older sister wasn’t able to spit without their parents finding out. Meanwhile, Hale snuck out of the house at odd hours to drink and party and date, then sneak back in just before dawn half drunk in order to get ready for the school day.

As the second child and by her mother’s orders to her father, Hale was not to become a hunter. For some years this bothered the little girl who just wanted to hang out with her cool, older sister. Hale wanted a chance, at least, and she would complain constantly whenever Fayre left the house. Then, over time, Hale grew use to the fact that she went to school like a – relatively – normal kid and seeing Fayre come home after a long trip of hunting, tired and worn, Hale came to the conclusion that the hunter lifestyle wasn’t for her – especially since she gets sick and dizzy at the first sight of blood. So, with that, Hale continued her life as normal: going out to parties, going on dates and having a life as a young kid should. School was an absolutely bore. She barely got by with an average grade, but she made it through. Hale was eighteen and had just finished high school when she first received her taste in tragedy. Fayre and her father, Cadoc, were a few states over hunting a group of vampires that had infiltrated a small town. Fayre didn’t talk about it much in front of her little sister, but what she could hear from the other side of a closed door at the funeral parlor was that Fayre had failed to save Cadoc. Hale didn’t believe a word of it. The first thing a hunter is taught was that ‘ what can go wrong, will go wrong, ’ This was an unfortunate circumstance, and the family was sad and heartbroken for the loss, Fayre especially, and she was getting the blame. She had no control over what had happened… But, maybe that’s why she took it so difficult.

At this point, Fayre had snapped and was gone from home more than usual. Because of this, Hale put aside her wild child antics and stepped up a little bit to help her grieving mother, Seçil. As much as Hale loves her sister, the grief of losing Cadoc hit the Avci family hard. Where it made the rest of the family weary. Hale slowly, and reluctantly, took place as leader of the family. Fayre did her best in helping Seçil around the house, but it was rare. Because of this, Hale grew to be a little resentful towards her eldest sister, but as pissed off as she was that Fayre decided to desert her own family and much rather be whatever she was doing instead of being with her family, Fayre was dealing with Cadoc’s death in her own way. Hale decided that giving her older sister space was the best decision instead of saying anything. Unfortunately, that might have been too much freedom for her. Things didn’t change, and begrudgingly, Hale kept attending to her family’s ( both her mother and grandparents now ) needs as Fayre continued on these long hunting trips with the uncles and cousins. Juggling volunteer work, two full time jobs, and helping manage finances, Hale never really figured out what to do with her life, but she knew she didn’t want to stay in her hometown. She needed to leave and figure herself out. Unfortunately, she didn’t get to leave right away, since her grandparents fell ill about two months after her father was killed. Now at the age of twenty-two, she felt stuck for those two years. In high school, she knew she had everything set up for her, but she felt guilty for even thinking about leaving her family behind in such a mess. So yes, she stayed for two years, saving up money and taking care of her mother and ill grandfather.

In 2016, when Hale was twenty-three, she received the second most tragic piece of news in her life: Fayre had died while on a hunting trip. Torn apart limb from limb, there was no saving her and the Avci family put together another funeral. Hale was absolutely devastated. She should have said something when she had the chance, make Fayre listen to her and not go out on these trips for such a long time. That she should take a break and be home with her family, but it was too late. Fayre was gone, and Hale had to take care of Seçil once more who had lost a child. This time was different, though. Seçil didn’t sob late at night, she didn’t mop around the house or look through old pictures. Instead, like Fayre, Seçil became engulfed with rage and hatred towards the supernatural, and soon pushed training onto Hale, even though she didn’t want it and expressed this multiple times, but her mother was so angry and the world that nothing was going to change her mind, so Hale gave in, hoping that this would be the therapy her mother needed to cope, and then she would get better. At least someone would be with Seçil. In January of 2020, four years after the supposed death of Fayre, Seçil and Hale went on their first hunting trip after all of that training, and it would be their last. It was supposed to be easy. A get in and get out situation – just a couple of vampires playing hide and seek in the basement of a town mall. Unfortunately, the pair had received bad intel, and it was just a couple of vampires, it was a whole hoard. The two hunters were outnumbered. Seçil died that night, the vampires having no need for her. At least it was quick, and she felt no pain – only fear. Hale, on the other hand, was fresh and the vampires kept her in the dark, in a cage, and used her as a blood bank. This went on for a number of months, until one of the vampires grew a heart and couldn’t stand the sight of a girl being used in such a way. Having been very weak, the only way she was going to survive was to become one of them, so he turned her and helped Hale escape her prison.

Before placing her in the back of a pickup truck and covering her with a blanket, the vampire told her about a town called Lethe. He told her that this town was safe, and somewhere she can learn how to be a vampire and start a new life. It’s been six months since Hale has become a vampire, and it has been very difficult for her. Believing she has no family left, she’s been sad and lonesome and partying late at night. Seeing the opportunity to finally get her life on track, Hale enrolled into Lethe’s general college courses as a way to figure out what she wants to do with the rest of all eternity. She also took up the position as being Yasemin Asli’s personal assistant as income. Hale doesn’t really know how to feel about the Riverborn, she’s too busy trying to figure out what to do with her own life day to day to even care about them. Hale is just trying to find her footing, while simultaneously ignoring all and every responsibility that’s giving her anxiety.  

[phila004-blog]

Day 1

1/22/19 Tuesday

Today I woke up at around 5 am. Why? Because I wanted to make a habit of that. Apparently, there’s a lot of benefits to waking up early. It was also the first day of class and I had to wake up early anyway since I commute and I hate being late. Usually last semester somehow I always dread of waking up early and ended up not doing anything productive and it becomes worse and worse.

I had a goal in mind where I wanted to be more productive this semester. Even though I would think that every semester, I really really was determined? Actually, during the whole winter break, I was trying to wake up a 5am so I could get used to it before school started but I just never really did. And I ended up sleeping around 3-4 am and waking up after 12pm. Strange how I was okay with waking up today.

I worked out a bit, pack some food and a slice of cake just because I just saw it in my fridge ate 2 slices of hard salami for breakfast, the size of pepperoni and was at school by 8am for work. As usual, I took the bus and then train to get to the U of M. It takes 30-40 mins (at least it feels like it).

I got to West Bank thinking maybe I should get just one more thing to eat just in case I didn’t pack enough food and got myself a $1 ($1.07) Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal bar. My other goal this semester was to avoid as much a possible not to buy any products when I’m out, like not eating out at all. Though I already bought something on the first day of school.

Right after work, I had some time before my next class. I was feeling really dry today and decided to go home because I didn’t have any moisturizer with me. I feel really uncomfortable if my skin is really dry. I ate the food that I packed and with the amazing cake and went to my class.

Class was cool. Thought some things. After class, I just went home.

Afterthought: Blogging is kinda fun. Though, I feel uncomfortable that somebody was reading this. Now I don’t know if I’m doing this right.

[rvkis]

180915 KBS in Berlin

so after being emo all sunday and monday i finally got the strenght to write my report about music bank in berlin and about the whole trip in general. if i got anything wrong you may correct me, since my memory might be messed up bcs A LOT happened. well, here we go ~

Friday, arrival in Berlin: later at noon i met up with my friend in düsseldorf to take the plane to berlin, since her sister and parents were already there but that’s not important. i was super nervous bcs it was only my second flight and without a parent at that. it was pretty cool tho, night flights are amazing. when we arrived we found out, that if our plane didn’t had a 30 minutes delay (bcs we were 3 people too much and couldn’t start off lol), we would’ve have arrived together with taemin, exo and wanna one. how cool would that be.

Saturday, D-DAY: after a very, very short night (berlin is hella loud jeez) we headed to the venue pretty early to grab some fan stuff and banners to cheer for our favourites. while we looked around first, so that we know where eveything is, we wanted to head back to my friends parents to tell them, that we’ll grab what we can get and then leave again. we had seated tickets so we didn’t need to line up for numbers. so on our way back to the car to tell them that, a van arrived just when i wanted to cross the street. and guess who was in that van - EXO. (so i can say i got nearly hit by exo, literally lmao) we had short eye contact with sehun who was sitting in the front and scrunched up his face bcs the sun was blinding, he looked so funny and cute haha. since there weren’t many people at the gate we decided to watch get them in to the venue. the girls next to us screamed so loud it sounded like she was giving birth, which made us laugh a lot haha (you can find the video of exo arriving on my twitter: skelettblume)

well then, after exo arrived we waited a little longer for taemin. but boy he was taking long, so we decided to grab some fan goods and banners and then leave, since we also wanted to do some sightseeing (so we missed taem :(). in the end berlin wasn’t really that nice, at least not too us. and due to the marathon that was going on it was pretty crowded and stuffed. so when we arrived back at the hotel around lunch time we were pretty tired and took a nap to re-charge our energy. then an hour before let in, we headed back to the venue to line up.everything went really smooth and we were inside after like 45 minutes. inside the venue they played music videos of all the groups that were to perform and fans chanted a long, it was super cool and set up a really good mood.

Stray Kids: the opening, after the mcess had a short speach, was made by them. they were really cute. and since it was felix’ birthday we even sang for him. in german tho since this was organized by the staff. originally we fans planned to sing in korean but ok lol. felix was really touched and even teared up, cutie. ;;

Songs Performed: district 9, hellevator, my space

GIdle: tbh i’m not a big fan of girl groups, therefor i don’t have much to say about them. only that they had one of the cutest fanboys. :)

Songs Performed: latata, maze, hann

WANNA ONE: they were def the 3rd strongest group this evening. fanchants were really loud and their perfomance was lit. during their ment they said they are really grateful that fans give so much love and support even tho their debut wasn’t that long ago.

Songs Performed: boomerang, energetic, light, beautiful, burn it up

TAEMIN ( ❤️ ): so, since i’m a shawol since the beginning i have A LOT to say here. it was my second time seeing taemin. i first saw him with the rest of the band back in 2011 during smtown paris. his performances were LIT 🔥 . he was so cute during his ment (he introduced himself in german ;;) and since i literally saw him grow up i can say he improved SO MUCH. I’M SO PROUD. he also prepared a video message from minho and kibum and was like “do you want to see them more than me?” and when the fans just screamed he took it as a yes and pouted haha. during hypnosis then emotions took over and i started crying bcs than it sank in just how much he grew up and everything. ;; and that he continues to be there for fans after you know... -anyways during press your number the fanchants def were loudest and he literally turned his perfomances into his own concert. 😁  something that was also really sweet was when he together with vcr minho and kibum sang I WANT YOU and the crowd flipped ;; it was such a cool surprise. kibum and minho said that they are sad whole shinee couldn’t come but want to next time. minho also looked really proud and happy for taemin. :)

Songs Performed: move, press your number, (with vcr minho and kibum) i want you, hypnosis, danger

EXO: like some maybe expected they def dominated the show. even tho taemin was just as strong with the fanchants but still exo boys really got it. but that’s okay bcs i’m also a fan lol (but shinee will always come firs <3). they were really cute ofcourse. suho really did his best and even wrote what he wanted to say on his palm ;;. as always as it seemed baekhyun’s mic was too low (when will they ever learn ugh). kyungsoo looked SO HAPPY during boomerang ;; i wanted to squish him so bad. kai spoilered a move for cb uhuhu and also looked really happy bcs of the fanchants. suho, chanyeol and sehun danced a few parts of WE YOUNG during ments. baekhyun sang a bit of YOUNG and looked really proud a the end. fanchants were SUPER LOUD and we all went crazy during WHAT U DO, it was awesome. OHHH and we sang happy birthday for jongdaes upcoming birthday and he also looked so proud haha. chanyeol thanked fans for liking WE YOUNG and all the love they get. he was so startled when he talked bcs he was really, really loved (i would say he and taemin def got the most love).

Songs Performed: the eve, kokopop, boomerang, what u do, power

SPECIAL STAGE - CHANYEOL: there were a few special stages, including a video message of bts, but since i don’t really have much to talk about them and also only want to say something to chanyeol’s one, i’ll leave the rest out. so, mr. park chanyeol - istg he gets my heart so weak. he was so considerate and sweet and performed WIND OF CHANGE from scorpions for us. i got goosebumps and teary eyes. his rap voice is already something but his deep singing voice just does things to you. also i felt so touched that he showed so much interest and prepared something so meaningful ;;. really i love soft pups. he also looked really proud/happy when he was done and the whole crowd chanted “PARK CHANYEOL” it was heavy.

Song Performed: wind of change from scorpions

OTHER SPECIAL STAGES SETLIST:

Stray Kids - happy song, dna, hard carry

Wanna One - pick me, bang bang bang

GIdle + Daniel Lindemann - sunny by boney m

Somi - rollercoaster, gashina

besides the special stages, we also had a QUIZ and RANDOM PLAY DANCE break. the best question of the quiz was “is taemin beautiful” and everyone chanted “YES” and then it was his time to perform <3. during rpd break songs from top kpop groups were played (i only remember red velvet tho, bcs our section screamed for suho HAHA exo fans know what we meant). it was really energetic and hyped everyone up even more.

CLOSING: since exo was the last group to perfom, the mcees said a few more words and then everyone got on stage and bid goodbye with gangnam style. really, even tho it went on for 4 hours it felt really too short. but it was a really nice experience, since it was my first with lightsticks and fanchants (i really need more kpop concerts haha). since i’m a shawol first (before an exo-l) i spend more time with them and everyone was so sweet and worked so hard with handing out banners and even lightsticks. HUGE THANK YOU TO Y’ALL ;;. and of course like after every concert my post-concert depression is SUPER HEAVY like can i pls turn back time and go again ;;. anyways, i hope you all liked my ‘short’ report and i hope you get to see your favourites soon too. if you have any questions, just hit my inbox. thank you and that’s it. <3

[cannedapricot]

Murder Mystery Party! Wanna One

happy late halloween!! here’s a halloween special, murder mystery party! wanna one for you all!!

welcome to the annual murder mystery party held every halloween

it’s a tradition you see

every student on campus is invited

and everyone apart from the victim is a suspect

but the thing is, nobody actually knows who the host is

rumor has it that the original host actually died one night and others have been keeping the tradition alive

but people also say that the host changes every year and is decided by lottery

every student receives a invitation a month before the 31st

so y’all have enough time to get a costume together lol

the envelope always matches the theme of the party

last year, it was a simple, slick black, matching the theme of a classy work dinner kinda party

included in the envelope was a wad of paper

containing everything you needed to know about your character and if they were the murderer or not

or if they were the person flopping to the floor dramatically and dying rip

but of course

this is all fictional and done for fun

or is it????? ???? ? 👀👀👀👀👀

this year, as usual, you received an invitation on september 30

this year though, the envelope was decorated in victorian accents 

in gold lettering, the first piece of paper read,

“you are hereby invited to the biggest victorian masquerade party of the year”

you already want to skip the party this year lma o

victORIAN CLOTHING IS EXPENSIVE. EVEN IF YOU’RE RENTING OK

ALSO A MASK????

LOOKS SADLY AT BANK ACCOUNT

but guess what!!!

minhyun and jaehwan ain’t having none of that!!!

again,,,, but loOK, IN MY DEFENSE,,, MINHWAN ARE BFF GOALS

the two drag you along with them to rent costumes

with you throwing a tantrum like a six year old on the way

“buT IT’S SO EXPENSIVE I CAN BARELY AFFORD TO E A T”

“oops the wind’s too loud, what’d you say?”

“tHe WiNd’S tOo LoUd. THERE’S NO WIND JAEHWAN”

so you settle for pouting

art student! baejin happily agreed to make masks for all twelve of you so that’s some money saved lol

you wince looking at the price tags

“300 foR A MONTH????? ARE YOU K I D D I N G M E”

stOPS BREATHING FOR A SHORT SECOND

bitCH YOU ARE SKIPPING THIS DUMB ASS PARTY--

“y/n where do you think you’re going??”

minhyun caught you by the hood of your hoodie

shIT

YOUR GREAT ESCAPE PLAN WAS FOULED BY NONE OTHER THAN THE GREAT EMPEROR HWANG

angrily puffs

the three of you are just as poor as each other

so you guys end up renting the cheapest three 

but of course, minhwan look 10/10

you’RE STUNNING AS WELL THOUGH

“yes y/n, step on me”

“i- what the fuck”

looking at other people’s character’s info was strictly against the rules 

you’d be uninvited every year from then on if you’re caught

but you were able to ask others about theirs 

cause it’s up to you to decide if they’re lying about it or not

and that’s what minhwan cautiously asks you on the way back to the dorms

“hey y/n, what’s your character this time?”

you

haven’t

really

looked 

at the info

and after renting the costume,,,,, yoU GOTTA MEMORIZE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER BEFORE THE PARTY

because well, taking out your info sheet at the party breaks the atmosphere

swEATS

“uH,,,, GUESS”

SONIC SPEEDS OFF

YOU WEREN’T GONNA LET THE TWO KNOW THAT YOU DON’T KNOW

BECAUSE HELL, JAEHWAN’S NEVER GONNA LET IT GO

EVEN IF IT WAS SOMETHING TINY LIKE THIS

so you SLAM your door open, stunning your dorm mate

CHUCK your rented costume on your bed

gently

because that thing was expensive as fuck

and FLIP out your character sheet

you were the child of a well known lord

and so you were in the middle upper class

you had an older brother who is SUPER protective of you

well, at least the sheet said

every character was unique and had different alibis

and murder motives

the host obviously has to spend all year on this lol

the victim was said to be a person in the higher level middle class (one of the only information about the victim given)

and so you were confused as to why you would be a suspect

why would someone in a higher social position murder someone lower??

a sigh of relief left your lips as you realize you’re not the real murderer

you sucked at lying

but you were a suspect due to the fact that you knew the victim since you guys were children and the two of you were sworn enemies

not the “oh my god i hate you but i also love you” kind

but the “fucKING HELL I ACTUALLY HATE YOU WITH ALL MY SOUL” kind

as you two grew up, you got mature,,,, but they got worse

you overheard something about the victim wanting to assault your father

anD SO YOU WERE SUSPECTED DUE TO THIS

BECAUSE EVERYONE WOULD THINK THAT YOU HAD TO KILL THEM BEFORE THEY KILL YOUR DAD

huffs

this would be a tough character to pull off

especially since the victim has plans to kill your father

that’s a strong motive

your dormmate willingly tells you that they’re a part of the working class

you hum in response

your gut feeling telling you to not show up at the party at all

buT YOUR MIND IS TELLING YOU TO GO BECAUSE YOUR WALLET IS HAVING A BREAKDOWN DUE TO THE STUPID COSTUME

so that’s what you do

on the 31st, you’re getting ready with your dormmate

and you receive a text from seongwoo as you’re fixing your mask

which, by the way, is also stunning. art student! baejin is talent itself

“hey, i apparently have a younger sibling and i’m asking everyone but they say that they don’t have no sibling. you’re my last hope y/N ARE YOU MY LONG LOST SIBLING”

you lowkey wanna reply with “fuck off”  but you reply saying that you, do, indeed have an older bro and that you two are not long lost siblings

“yUS IM POSITIVE ITS U, ARE U A CHILD OF SOME LORD???”

“yea”

“oKAY Y/N YOU CUTE LIL SIBLING, BIG BRO WILL PRO T E C T YOU”

flashbacks to haunted house pat timer! ong seongwoo

the info sheet said protective older bro but ong can’t wait for you to get a s/o lmao protective my ass

with a roll of your eyes, you head towards the party with your dormmate

WHICH WAS HELD IN SOME FANCY, EXPENSIVE HOTEL

it was already packed by the time you got there

you couldn’t tell who was w ho

the masks were throwing you off

your dormmate disappears off to the “kitchens” as she was a working maid

the host of the fake masquerade party (not the real host, the person whose character is the host in the script) was wearing a beautiful royal blue mask and was heading your way

you lowkey panic™

humaN INTERACTION???? ALREADY????

“hello, i’m your humble host today, lee daehwi”

“ohMYGOD DA E H W I”

“who is this--”

you pull him into a HUGE hug

“iT’S Y/N YO”

“yOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BREAK CHARACTER FOR THE FIRST HOUR Y/N GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER”

“oH FUCK i mean hi!! i’m y/n,,,,”

swEATS 

“HOW DO PEOPLE INTRODUCE THEMSELF IN THIS ERA??” 

you whisper

“IDK I’M JUST GOING AROUND SAYING THAT I’M THE HOST”

he whispers back

YOU SCREAM INSIDE

“what are you supposed to be though??” you ask daehwi, looking at his costume

“i’m an earl,,,, i have no idea what an earl is but i mean,,, i get throw parties so,,,, it’s high in the hierarchy right?”

do earls throw parties i have no idea i can’t remember anything from black butler

you ask where the other guys were and so daehwi leads you to them without hesitation 

“lIL SIB!!!111!!11!111″

fuck

its “protective” sibling seongwoo!!

“lmao let go seongwoo” duke! daniel says

seongwoo pouts

the boys tell you their identities one by one as requested from you!

jisung and minhyun were barons, sungwoon’s a country farmer, seongwoo was of course the son of a lord, jaehwan was a duke along with daniel, jihoon and woojin were thieves (phantom thief! au anyone? 👀), baejin was a knight, daehwi was an earl and guanlin....

“you guys have it all good buT I’M A BUTLER???? HELLO???”

y'all burst into laughter

the party was gREAT

THE BUNCH OF YOU BASICALLY HUNG AROUND THE SNACK TABLE THE WHOLE PARTY

UNTIL YOU WERE ALLOWED TO BREAK CHARACTER AND DANCE LINE MADE A BEELINE FOR THE DANCE FLOOR

then it neared midnight

and everyone was wondering when someone would flop dead

then it hit midnight exactly

and an arrow came flying in through the window

and hit someone on the chest

biTCH WHAT THE FUCK

THAT SCARED ME LOL

THAT MUST BE THE DEATH FOR THE NIGHT

and so y’all buzz over to the victim

buT

THE ARROW AND BLOOD LOOKS SO REALISTIC??

sungwoon mutters,

“that’s not real blood is it? why does it look so real this year”

seongwoo pushes through the crowd and sniffs the blood for sungwoon lol

expecting it to be fake

but his eyes popped wide when

“thiS SMELLS LIKE REAL BLOOD???”

HOLY SHIT

“IS SHE BREATHING???”

“NO???”

FUCK

ABANDON EVERYTHING

LEAVE THIS PLA C E

REAL MURDERER ON THE LOOSE

CALL THE COPS SDUGBISB

someone does but it was raining real hard and the traffic was screwed up due to some crash

it’s gonna take the cops ages to arrive

shIT Y’ALL SCREWED

Y’ALL AIN’T GOING OUT IN THE RAIN IN THE HEAVY ASS COSTUMES

UNI DORMS WERE MILES AWAY

ALSO THINK OF THE PRICE TO GET IT DRY CLEANED 

AND THE DEAD PERSON WAS EXPOSED AS THE REAL HOST OF THE MURDER MYSTERY PARTY

AS WELL AS THE MURDERER OF THE NIGHT

YOU WENT THROUGH HER POCKETS AND FOUND THE MASTERLIST OF WHO WAS WHO

SHIT

for safety reasons, the party goers decide to stay in clusters

and try find the real murderer so you guys can lock them up and make sure they’re not gonna kill anyone anytime soon

you melt into wanna one’s group

they don’t question you because y’all a cute group of friends

but you guys decide to start from finding where the arrow came from

so you guys head outside (with some shotty umbrellas jisung found)

and head towards the general direction the arrow came from

seongwoo and his extra ass climbs a tree to “observe” 

he stumbles upon this machine, timed for 12 on the dot

y’aLL GET GOOSEBUMPS

SEONGWOO’S GLOATING ABOUT IT ON THE WAY BACK INSIDE

“I’M SO TALENTED, I SHOULD BE A DETECTIVE”

“k”

back inside, you find the others cornering your dormmate

because they’re known for having a rivalry with the victim

but this is the “ oh my god i hate you but i also love you” kind of rivalry

the others didn’t know that though

you knew though

so you, being the hero you are, step in

wanna one trying to hold you back because

“stAY OUT OF TROUBLE Y/N”

“thAT’S DANGEROUS”

but you end up defending your dormmate anyways

it took a lot of persuasion on your part but

you didn’t do persuasive speeches for nothing during classes

and you end up successful 

jihoon stepped in at some point to help you but that wasn’t the point

and everyone continues their search

until woojin finds this rather big muddy footprint on the marble floor

which obviously could only be there if someone went outside during the party

it hadn’t rained when the party started

and it couldn’t be any of the w1 squad

it was a different shoe size than what the 12 of you were wearing

then everyone started comparing the bottom of their shoes lmAO

it was a mess

jisung couldn’t take it anymore and just screamed at everyone

“SHUT UP!!!!!!!!! LETS JUST COMPARE ONE BY ONE OK???”

and that’s what everyone did

they came up one by one next to the print and guanlin squinted at their facial expressions to find anyone looking like they’ve just killed anyone lol

this continued until there were only a few people left

and the killer broke from pressure

he admitted that he had committed the crime

if he was gonna be exposed soon anyways, might as well admit it himself

“i was supposed to be the victim tonight, but i was the victim last year, and the year before that! it’s not fair that everyone else but me gets to have fun. i found out who the host was through multiple sources and begged her to change me for another role. but she shot me down without hesitation. i asked her why,,,, but she just looked at me coldly and said that i was only suited to be the victim. i,,,, got angry and lost control,,,,, i planned this tonight. i’m so sorry.”

he said with his head down

daniel sighed as he moved to hold the dude’s arms to his sides

“such a shame", he tuts

anD CUE THE COPS WHO BASICALLY DID NOTHING

WEE WOO WEE WOO

they show up and the murderer away

needless to say, the campus tradition was no longer continued

no one wanted to attend ever again

“hey guys, are you going next year?”

“hELL NAH”

here’s the late halloween special!!! sweats in 2.3k words

you can tell that i tried to finish it on time by how rushed the ending was,,,,,, it’s not my best aaaaa likE THE KILLER BROKE UNDER PRESSURE????? IM SO SHIT AT THIS. I’LL STICK WITH CRINGEY FLUFF FROM NOW WHE E ZES

also, my search history is filled with searches about the victorian era dsbvisb

[eternalsterekrecs]

A Life Less Ordinary by Jebiwonkenobi

It takes a few years but eventually they manage to agree on something; Derek Hale is an asshole, and Stiles Stilinski is in love with him.

Burn by night by thebrotherswinchester

Sheriff Stilinski has been kidnapped by Alpha werewolves. As bait. For his own son.

Cupboard Love by mklutz

He’s carefully balancing the sandwiches and the two biggest tupperware containers he could find that both had functioning lids when the front door opens and he almost drops everything right there in front of the stupid fountain.

If that’s Derek Hale, he’s definitely not a mountain man.

Daddy’s Do’s by apocryphal

“Hi Mr. Stilinski!” Lydia said pertly. “My name’s Lydia, and this is my daddy. His name is Derek Andrew Hale and he watches all of your videos on YouTube a lot, but he still can’t braid.”

[Stiles is a celebrity YouTube hairstylist. Derek may or may not have a crush. Lydia just wants a French braid for school picture day.]

Everything’s Better Under the Sea by tryslora

Everything changes when Derek goes under while surfing, hits his head on a board, and sees a man with a tail swimming away. He wants to know who that was, and what it has to do with Beacon Hills, the one place he never meant to come back to.

Five Times Stiles Apologized (and One Time He Didn’t Need To) by Analiena, QueenOfTheCute

Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Hold the Door by Hatteress, maichan808

When Derek is killed by a rival alpha, the pack will stop at nothing to get him back. Even if that means blackmailing the most dangerous hunter duo this side of hell. Whatever. That whole devil thing was probably totally exaggerated, anyway.

If galileo gave us good advice by proxydialogue

Stiles is glued together wrong. That’s the best that Derek can figure.

Jambalaya by SylvieW

Derek hasn’t had a job for years. Now that he’s decided to stay in Beacon Hills, he wants to put down roots. But making friends with his co-workers is a lot harder than he remembers.

Knot if You Don’t Knock by jsea, marguerite_26

Stiles never expects to present as an omega -- that's something that happens to people like Greenberg, not him. He is so wrong.

His life only gets stranger when Derek Hale mistakenly bursts through the door of his exam room during a doctor’s appointment. What happens next is a complicated series of events, including freshly baked cookies, book-carrying and surprise heats.

Like French Vanilla Ice Cream by GotTheSilver

Hale Sounds, Open 'til Midnight.

An Empire Records AU.

“Well, maybe you should sort out your own love life before looking at mine.”

“I don’t have a love life.”

“That’s the point I was making,” Erica responds in a tone of voice that suggests she thinks Derek is stupid.

Mǣnōn by MyBeth

Knotting. It’s a thing that exists. Like werewolves and weird lizard creatures. It’s just rated NC-17 so you don’t hear about it so much on TV. It exists and he gets it. Stiles. He’s the one that gets it.

Numbers by standinginanicedress

“I'm magic,” Stiles raises his hands in the air and puts on a serious facial expression. “I have the sixth sense.”

“The sixth sense, huh? Is that what they're calling bullshit these days?”

Stiles' lips purse down hard, but he still smirks. Derek wonders if there's any single facial expression that Stiles can make that isn't in some way at least slightly amused, whether at himself or the expense of others. “Non-believers aren't welcome at my table, Derek.”

Of Wolves and Doughnuts by Hatteress

When Derek was fifteen, circumstance and a goddamn doughnut had seen fit to Bond him to Stiles Stilinski.

In which Derek is more cunning than anyone gives him credit for, Stiles doesn't understand why the new Alphas in town are all up in his business and everyone gets a violent crash-course in what it means to be Pack, whether they're in it or not.

Pale Skin and Fragile Bones by lydiasbones

“I’m not going to do anything!” Lydia defended, looking far too affronted to be genuine. “It just seems that the universe has decided that the two of you will continue to run into each other at an improbable frequency for the foreseeable future. I’m banking on that.”

“You don’t bank on anything,” Stiles said grimly. “You make things happen.”

Lydia smirked. “That’s not entirely untrue.”

--

Or, the one in which Derek arrests one of Stiles' friends and Stiles holds a grudge. Also, Stiles wrote Derek's favorite book. But they don't know that.

Queer Your Coffee by alisvolatpropiis

Derek's just over the city line when he sees a sign for an independent drive-thru place, Full Spectrum Brew. There are three cars in line when he turns in, which annoys him but gives him hope. Not that he really trusts the people of Beacon Hills to have much taste when it comes to coffee (god, he is a snob), but the shop’s popularity does seem to bode well. The line of cars moves way more slowly than he’d like, each customer in front of him seeming to take way too long to order, and then lingering when they get their coffee. He’s irritable from lack of sleep and an even more detrimental lack of caffeine, anxious to get out of the car. Finally it’s his turn and he slowly rolls up to the window, turning the radio down.

For a second, he thinks he must have fallen asleep while he was waiting, because what he sees when he looks in the window surely must be a dream.

Stunning brown eyes like glowing honey and sweet little nose, slightly upturned; a shapely pink mouth, bottom-lip pierced by a thin black hoop that he's worrying with the tip of his tongue as he smiles a gorgeous hello.

He's the most beautiful man Derek's ever seen.

And he’s shirtless.

Running Down a Dream by tryslora

He wakes into an unknown room and without his memories. The name they give him tastes unfamiliar on his tongue, and he wonders if he'll ever find the memory-eating aliens that did this to him, or the magical spell to give him back his life.

Stacking Up by bravelittlesoldier

Stiles is working in the basement of the Library of Congress and is feeling his social skills quickly deteriorate. Then along comes a new librarian working at Circulation who is most definitely a male model. Maybe its time to start re-socializing.

The Pope Would Brag by Hatteress

The thing is, Derek’s really, really hot. Like, insane levels of attraction. What with the leather and the cheekbones and the stubble and the ass — oh god, that ass — Stiles can’t really be blamed, at all for freaking bragging.

Now if only his college friends actually believed Derek existed.

Up and Coming by Fanhag102

Stiles and Derek work in the same building and every day ride up in the elevator together.

That is pretty much the extent of their relationship—until one day the elevator breaks down, trapping the two of them inside and maybe forcing them to admit to each other that the attraction is mutual.

Voldemort and Jean Valjean (Walk into a Coffee Shop) by PsychicPineapple

So sue him, Stiles had a stupid habit of giving out goofy names at coffee joints.

**

‘Name?’ He stood with his sharpie at the ready.

‘Voldemort,’ Stiles answered without missing a beat.

With metal on our tongues (we’ll be dressed in rags) by Rena

Double-oh agents are a piece of work; Stiles knew that before he became MI6's new quartermaster. It's cool, he survived Lydia in college, he can deal with stubborn, reckless, trigger-happy operatives. Derek Hale, though, is definitely trying to live up to his predecessor's legacy and make Stiles' life more difficult.

AKA the one where Derek is 007 and Stiles is Q and they bitch and angst their way to a Happy Ending.

XXX by foxtricks

Stiles wears Xs on his hands, and Derek wants to know why.

You Can Cry Wolf, But Stop Running by iamursforevrmre

Derek Hale is the third baseman for the Los Angeles Dodgers. Stiles doesn’t know why he has an apparent thing for third basemen and he has no clue why he’s even watching the Dodgers. He’s a Mets fan.

Zoo Security by Inell

Derek gets a call to come pick up Stiles and their daughter from the zoo security office.

[sam-or-whatever]

Morals/Matricide | Self-Para

Shrieks filled the air. Tragedy had struck, and there was no way around that. While the areas of Lanford that had once seen lush, lively and livid with bustling people and the sheer vibrancy of life in pseudo-metropolis weren’t entirely vacated, silence hung over them as a court of viewers spectating a public execution. The air was dead. It beckoned for the hawking of a crow, the drop of a pin, anything to break the lack of noise that seemed so brittle in the suburban streets that it could crack should anyone open a window; and yet, it didn’t.

But the world around Sam was not silent. White noise screamed around her, hisses and hazes screeching in her ears, unintelligible mumbles and yells from strangers not in her line of sight. There were bodies-- people, perhaps. At least, vague outlines of them. Faces and limbs blurred, smeared across her peripherals and melting into each other, a bizarre Dali or Ernst painting. None of them mattered. No one mattered.

Heels clacked along the sidewalk outside of the hospital, ankles wearing down. She’d ran from the park, from the tent, from the fire that grew exponentially like a cancer on the tarp, stands and apparent souls that it consumed. The park wasn’t too far from the hospital, nor from her own apartment; she could’ve very well run home instead, sat there like a coward in her shelter until whatever horrendous apocalypse outside had passed over and was nothing more than a news headline in the morning that would soon be forgotten about as more global politics consumed every outlet.

But she had to go. Had to. There was no other option but to.

She’d seen the firemen and paramedics arrive, seen what few straggler cops come by as if there was any other prime objective in the entire city to tend to (Perhaps a drug bust in North End seemed more important). And soon, a swarm of them had arrived, too late in time for her own comfort. She saw stretchers, people carried out, limping, crawling, emerging from smoke like a macabre rebirth. Perhaps that’s when they were taken, when they’d managed to get out. Someone was doing their job.

She’d made her way home, sat on the front stoop to the apartment for far too long, lost in the thought, perhaps in shock, of what would happen to all those back at the masquerade. She knew someone had died. Well, perhaps not knew-- but the likelihood of no one losing their life in the disaster seemed unlikely.

It was almost dawn when the phone call reached her. Details scarce, she was drawn to the hospital in concern of her “family”.

Automatic doors slid open, practically at her command even if it was merely a mundane electronic routine for them, and heels clicked on linoleum rather than cement.

The emergency room wasn’t anything unexpected.

Every seat occupied, standing room only. Some wept. Some were silent. Unintelligible noisiness from behind the scenes, the medical wards themselves, leaked out into the space, more white noise to cut through the bleak. Not all of them were there because of the fire; it hadn’t injured the entire town. Of course the world still turned and people still did stupid things or were shot or got into car crashes when fires broke out. These people still would come here. But yet again, they didn’t matter.

“Did Andrew Blackwood check in here today?” Manicured hands slammed down on the desk before her. The woman on the other side, some short, Lisa Loeb-looking type with uber-chapped lips stared up in near awe.

“Ma’am, what’s your name?”

“Samantha Blackwood, now answer the goddamn question.”

“Do you bear any relation to An--”

“Just answer the fucking question, you useless cunt.”

“Please don’t use that tone with me, miss, I’m trying to help you.” She rapidly tapped away on the computer, perhaps searching databases for something that should’ve been a simple yes or no question.

“A state senator checks into an emergency room in the wake of a town-wide disaster, and you’re telling me you can’t fucking remember if you saw him or not? Is he here, yes or fucking no?”

In the corner of her eye, she saw the door to the back swing open as an orderly called someone else to come in.

“There is indeed a Blackwood checked into the ICU right now, bu--”

“Thanks.”

She bolted through the open door, nearly knocking the orderly in her bizarrely Lisa Frank scrubs over. Squeaks on the tiles, the taffeta and tulle of her dress flying behind her in lieu of smoke or dust from wheels.

“MISS--!”

Whatever the receptionist had to say was gone behind her, lost to the sound of crying patients, beeping hospital equipment and the ringing in Sam’s head that grew, tinnitus off of its tracks, perhaps an oncoming migraine.

Andrew. Where was Andrew?

Fuck Eliza.

It really didn’t matter to her where her mother was. She knew they both were in the tent when the fire broke out. Far from the entrance, at that. Perhaps they had been trapped in for a while. Perhaps they both managed to escape. Both Eliza and Andrew were too paranoid and high-strung for their own good to brush off any remote injuries; Eliza had checked herself into the emergency room for being pricked with a thorn from a rose her husband had given her. But if she had gone up in flames like the saganaki she enjoyed once a month, it would all be for the better. As long as Andrew was alive. He mattered. At least a little bit.

White. Everywhere around her was white. White floors, white walls, white curtains, oppressive white fluorescent lighting. Perhaps she stood out in grey, but the dress itself may have been what stood out moreso than the color.

Eyes darted around, wildly, for any signs of him-- Eliza’s dress would stand out if she were to see it anywhere. A hideous, voluminous ensemble of deep yellow-orange would perhaps now be singed to black. But Andrew’s matching suit would stand out just as well.

Through cracks at the edges of curtains, nothing was to be seen.

“The ICU” the Loeb had said, and an elevator trip and another quarrel with a receptionist, Sam found herself outside the room wherever one of her parents rested.

“Please tell me it’s Andrew,” she grumbled to the accompanying nurse, who held her elbow gingerly; perhaps it was for comfort, perhaps it was for control. Sam knew she could burst into a tirade and a tantrum at any moment. Security could be called if she got out of control. But as she stood, fingers prying at each other as if begging to dig under her acrylics, she was still.

“Miss, we--”

“Save it.”

“But you--”

“Just stop fucking talking. Please.”

There was a beat. A pause.

She looked upwards, up at the lengthy lights that ran across the ceiling like highway lane stripes, bearing down on the hallway below like a judgmental god. Then down at her shoes again, tips scuffed from her journey, rhinestones still perfectly in place.

She should go in. She knew she should. And so, so she glanced-- a simple lean forward and glance to the left to peer into the room. The yellow was striking; yet, she couldn’t make out what it was, the suit or the dress, from behind the curtain. It was clear that the fabric wasn’t really on its wearer, so much as draped on some coat rack or chair right behind the curtain that obstructed her view of the sole resident of the room. The sound of a breathing machine and the beeping of a heartbeat were the only sounds inside.

She pulled back, turning to the nurse.

“Where’s the other one? Whoever it is?”

The nurse bit her lip, her own hands fidgeting near her waist in a way not unlike what Sam’s own were doing.

“Miss, that’s what I was trying to tell you.”

Sam’s eyebrow raised briefly, too shaky to be as intimidating as she would’ve preferred.

“Only one of them has made it this far.”

“‘This far’?” Her voice nearly cracked.

“They both were rushed in together, and... Perhaps we should sit down.”

“No.”

“Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you, miss?”

“Stop saying ‘Miss’ as if I’m some irrelevant. You know our goddamn name. Now call me Sam or Miss Blackwood or something.”

“Alright, well, Samantha, do you u--”

“I said Sam, you absolute twit. You’re so fucking incompetent.”

“Sam, do you understand what I’m trying to get across to you?”

“One of them is dead.”

“I...”

“Is that not what you’re saying?” She stared into the girl’s eyes, her own red and sore, yet tears did not well up quite yet. She was not about to cry in front of a stranger. Enough people cried in hospitals. It was too cliché. She would not allow it.

“It... is... Indeed.”

“Then thank you. I don’t think your useless services will be required much further here.”

“You’d like me to leave?” The girl bit her lip.

“Yes, you stupid bitch, go back to your post or changing bedpans or whatever it is you do.”

“Alright... I’ll... send the doctor in soon.”

“Don’t fucking bother. I don’t need to know about any prognosis or whatever. If a doctor was that important to the situation, he’d be the one here talking to me about a dead parent, not you and your fresh-out-of-med-school, doe-eyed ineptitude.”

She stood there for another moment, almost in awe, unable to move. Maybe out of fear, or uncertainty of what to do, but as Sam’s eyes widened, her lips pressed into a firm line, the girl finally turned on her slippered heels and bolted back to her station.

Fists gripping at handfuls of fabric at her thighs, it was a miracle it didn’t shred under the sharpness of her nails. Knuckles turned white, begging to shred the rice paper skin over top.

She had to go inside.

She had to know who it was.

Why wouldn’t you just fucking ask?

It was stupid. Stupid to need to see for herself, to have the knowledge be tangible rather than verbal, to see for herself which parent was remaining.

Perhaps then she would know whether to mourn or not.

Please be Andrew.

She would never say it out loud.

Her own relationship with him was well beyond “estranged”; as long as he still fed into her material desires and kept her connected to his bank account, she could say they were still on good terms. He was a man of morals. The black sheep in his family for the mere fact that he was democratic-- and made his way into the Senate as such-- when it was a miracle his family could stand upright considering how far they all leaned to the right. But she never was close to him. They never shared intimate moments. She had safely told that therapist whose name escaped her almost a year ago that both he and Eliza failed as parents in that regard. She would have no reason to feel upset at his passing.

And yet, the fact that he wasn’t an insufferable force of nature of condescension, patronizing, self-indulging, high-strung shrieking that Eliza was. Andrew not being a Passive Aggressive Queen of the Universe himself made him instantly worthy of a tear or two.

A sigh and a grunt later, she turned into the room, the view of its resident still hidden.

“What could be behind curtain number one...” she mumbled.

The air hung heavy with silence. The tap of her heel-- always at the back of her mind throughout the day-- nearly matched the rhythmic pulse of the heart monitor, and slower still, the breathing machine gasped in and out every couple seconds.

The heap of fabric visible under the curtain made itself more visible-- yellow faded into black and grey at parts that had been singed, burnt into nothingness. Which garment it was still wasn’t clear; only bits were seen sweeping the floor.

With one more step, she rounded the curtain, eyes still fixated on the clothes before the person in the bed, and her answer became obvious.

The dress was in shambles, rags, tattered and torn, almost all of it but what touched the ground wrinkled and burned into blackness. It’s volume depleted, shape nonexistent. Thousands of dollars wasted.

Her breath held.

The breathing machine continued, almost in lieu of her own inhalation.

Eliza laid in the bed, nearly unrecognizable. A thin film of what might as well have been saran wrap isolated all but her face from the rest of the world. She was covered in black; green-tinged darkness that crinkled and peeled at random places. But by far the most shocking bit were the cuts-- nearly gridlike slices in her flesh that left her seared flesh in pieces, giant planes with deep rivers of pink in between them. From Sam’s own view, it seemed as if nothing of her hadn’t been consumed by the flames. It seemed almost impossible that she wasn’t already dead. Wires and IVs branched off from each arm, from random places on her body, tracking her vitals.

And then her face. Obstructed by the tube shoved down her throat, it, too, had a majority of it covered in the swamp-green blackness of the burn that everything else was. It swelled, gigantic, her natural features, one Sam could identify as pretty and inherited by herself had they not been ruined by association with Eliza’s personality, were gone amidst the destruction. Only two locks of her bleached hair remained, the rest, shriveled to nothing or gone altogether.

Gone was Eliza’s outer armor of beauty. Her vanity had been one thing that she made clear in previous days as important to her, always pulling out her compact to recheck herself in the middle of conversations or rantings at Sam. The woman that laid on the bed, breathed in peace, was hideous. An ogre. The monstrosity of who she was was finally visible on the outside for the world to see, but for Sam, it was only a culmination that she’d been waiting every day of her life to see.

“Of course it’s you.”

Her hands relaxed, rested limp at her side.

She stood at the end of the bed, staring at the creature before her, its chest rising and lowering in sync with the machine to its left.

A knock at the door broke what could’ve been serenity.

“You’re not allowed to be in here.” The man at the door’s white coat and clipboard announced what he was before he even breathed it out the next words. “I’m Dr. Guthrie... And you would be?”

“This woman’s daughter.” Her body remained still, only her head turning to look at him with her watery eyes. Tears were forming, indeed, but not because of Eliza. Or, perhaps it was because of them-- because it was her who laid in the bed with a chance of survival and not her husband. “You should know. Aren’t you the clown that called me?”

“You still shouldn’t be in here, Ms. Blackwood.”

“Are you going to not allow me to see her? Am I in the way of someone’s work?”

“Well--”

“Because as far as I can see, you’ve left her here. ICU, my ass. Are there more critical patients that everyone’s run off to take care of? Is she just supposed to stay here like a victim of the Salem witch trials while you lot run around filming scenes for Grey’s Anatomy?”

“Ms. Blackwood, I--”

“I really don’t fucking care.”

“I just want you to know that we’ve done all we can at the moment.”

“I said I don’t fucking care, but where does that leave her?”

He paused, biting his lip. His eyes bounced, from daughter to mother and back again.

“She hasn’t been breathing on her own. She's scheduled to go into surgery again soon for debridement of the outer layers of skin in the morning.”

“It is the morning.”

“Around ten.”

“And you think she’ll survive?”

He paused again. And before he opened his mouth to speak, she spoke over him--

“You don’t have to worry about sparing my feelings. Bedside manner is bullshit. I just want to know what to expect.”

“Full recovery does not seem likely.”

“So, she’d be like this for the rest of her life?”

“Internally, she’s mostly in shape-- her breathing is the main concern; she hasn’t been conscious since she was brought in, and we’re not sure if that could change.”

“Were you also the one that treated my father?”

“I meant to extend my condolences on that part.”

“You could’ve called earlier, you know.”

“We--”

“Frankly, I don’t care. Was he dead on arrival?”

He silenced himself again.

“Listen, Dr. Quack, are you, like, Nell, or something? You have the communication skills of a recluse. What’s the matter with you?”

“Ms. Blackw--”

“Just leave me with her for a moment. Please.”

He nodded, before scurrying off, not unlike the nurse. He paused at the door:

“You should really be wearing a mask and a gown.”

He shut the door behind himself.

She turned her head again, facing the beast on the bed.

And after a moment, she walked, moving to the side to seat herself in the only other chair in the space not occupied by a destroyed piece of couture.

She leaned in, staring at the devastation on Eliza’s body even closer-- cracks, fissures, hints of muscle visible in the valleys between skin continents, surprisingly such little blood visible. Perhaps it wasn’t safe to be around her-- exposing her to external contamination and whatnot. But then again, the sheet that covered her seemed to have that part taken care of.

“You’re really fucking ugly, you know that, mom?”

She squinted her eyes, staring at the Halloween mask of a face that rested on the pillow. Her eyelashes were missing, yet her lids seemed like the only part of her face that remained intact.

“You used to tell me that. I know.”

Eliza’s lips seemed stretched, plastic surgery gone wrong.

“I was never good-looking enough for you. But we looked kinda the same before this, no? I have your cheekbones. Your nose. Your smile. Your lips. Dad’s eyes, I suppose, but your face was mine. Do you think that was part of it? That you thought you, yourself, were never as beautiful as dad said you were, or how you told yourself in every mirror that you were the most gorgeous woman in the world? Did you think that was a lie? And rather than tell it to your own face, you told it to mine, to try and watch me tumble into insecurity, huh?”

She smiled. The thought that Eliza’s current face could no longer do that was almost comforting.

“You failed. Like much of your parenting, you failed that. I never thought I was ugly. And until the day I’m as hideous of a person as you were-- or, are, if you could look yourself in the mirror right now-- I will never think that.”

She leaned forward again, scooting the chair even closer, practically breathing in the unconscious woman’s ear.

“But your personality was always the ugliest part. Shrill. Screaming. Demeaning. You set the standard for horrible mothers in the world. For bitches in every TV show. Set an example of whatever paths should not be followed. You know, you mocked Jodi for not vaccinating her kids-- and yet she still tries to love them. You couldn’t love me. Or at least, you refused to, and I suppose I’ll never get to understand that. At least not now, will I? You can’t wake up and answer me-- and even if you were awake, you wouldn’t tell me. Is that because there’s no reason? There’s no reason for you not to love and support me? No reason for you to treat me as if I was the bane of your existence and the source of every anxiety and struggle you faced?

“You didn’t face any struggles, you bitch. The rich do not face more issues than the poor just because you have too much cash to count. You can waste it all on valium and vodka, but that doesn’t mean you’ll ever have to need any of it. You grew up wealthy, you married wealthy, you’re straight and white, and your parents didn’t beat you like you always said I should be lucky you didn’t do to me. You slapped. You struck. You didn’t beat me unconscious or bruise me, but you laid one too many hands on me whenever you lost your temper because you don’t know how to handle a little bit of sass. 

“You don’t know how to handle anything, actually, when I think about it. You couldn’t handle being single, so you found the richest, handsomest available guy in New York to call your own. You couldn’t handle responsibility about birth control, apparently, or else I wouldn’t be here. And you couldn’t handle the idea of an abortion because you still went through with a child it’s clear you never wanted. You couldn’t handle a baby, you couldn’t handle a toddler, you couldn’t handle a pre-teen, you couldn’t handle a teen, you couldn’t handle an adult. You could never manage self-sufficiency, either; living off of your own parents’ money like you’ve given me so much fucking flack for my entire life, then soon found yourself clinging to your husband and claiming his networth for your own. The only thing I know you can handle is your drinks and drugs. At least that’s one thing we kinda have in common.

“You were the source of every issue I’ve had in my life. I was not good enough. I wasn’t worthy of your affection. I couldn’t have my birthdays about me, they had to be about you and your clique of cunt friends who just love to compare their husband’s dick sizes and whatever Ralph Lauren purchases you’ve made. Straight A’s still meant I wasn’t smart enough for you, even my taste in clothes wasn’t good enough for you-- newsflash, bitch, Balmain and Balenciaga will always trounce a Chanel suit when it’s all you wear, and your Gucci staples are the biggest fashion faux pas I’ve seen since the 2012 Met Gala.”

She laughed. Perhaps she was delving too much into joke territory. If only Eliza could hear this. A glance around-- there weren’t any cameras. No one could hear this. Or see this. It was almost unfortunate there wasn’t an audience. And almost unfortunate Eliza wasn’t awake to turn the scene into a full-on production.

“I know, I know-- I didn’t make it easy for you. I didn’t take orders. I didn’t take rudeness easily. Flippancy, facetiousness, bitching back and forth for hours, it all something I could’ve avoided. But what do you want from me? What did you want from me? To apologize for having a personality? To just let you steamroll me and for me to just lay there like a ragdoll on autopilot to make you satisfied when you were never going to really care if I did well?

“I did do well-- I’m doing well. I’ve done more than you ever have in your entire, insufferable life. No, I didn’t marry rich, but I could if I tried. No, I don’t have lunch with the Romneys and attend the 2017 inauguration-- neither of which I’d be proud of, anyway-- but I have things you don’t. I have a place I chose for myself without making someone else miserable in the process. I have a job that I’m happy with. Yes, your sister-in-law got it for me, but I still have it. I have a friend. You’ve met him, you know. His name is Jude. No, he’s not a cop. No, he’s not some other fashion maven. He’s a rocker. I think he’s broke. But no, he’s not leeching off of me like you would assume, either. But he’s one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, and our times together are not spent comparing our superficial struggles and trying to outdo each other in the same field, because that’s not what it’s about. But I don’t expect you to understand that. I don’t know what you value. Money, maybe, but it flies out of your hand far more often than it does mine, so maybe you don’t value anything.

“And that’s totally fine, you know. It’s totally okay to not have standards, rules for yourself, things to have sacred. It’s fine. I just try not to make the world around me worse for it. No, I’m not a nice person a lot of the time, but I’m not actively trying to ruin people’s life. I don’t have someone that I brought into this world and have responsibility over and fuck them over at every chance I get because I like to see little children cry-- well, that’s a lie, I do, hence me stealing candy from a baby on the boardwalk last summer, so I guess that makes me a hypocrite, but you are a black hole, Eliza. You are the quintessence of virility, of the reason people think the upper class is out of control, you are the source of all evil in the household that I grew up in, and you have not suffered one day in your life because of a family of cunts bearing down on you.

“Well, you know what, that might be unfair of me to say. Maybe you did. Maybe you went through the same things I did. Maybe your mother really was an uber cunt-- you never let me see it. But if I was you, I wouldn’t bring that full circle. I would not choose to make my child miserable because the same was done to me. Like I said, I know I’m not a nice person a lot of the time. Maybe I’m net-evil at that because I say evil things all the time and get a kick out of being a casual villain, but I try to do good things at times. I try to be nice. I have friends for that-- especially Jude. You don’t. You may have experienced whatever hells the Rheiders put you through, but you just became one of their numbers in the process. The Blackwoods are not much better.

“And in fact, that’s why I wish dad was where you are right now. At least having some chance of survival. Not being wiped out of this world without a fighting shot. He was like me. He was a victim of at least some goodness in a family full of nothing but horror. His brothers are pigs. His parents are garbage. They’re your crowd. Maybe you thought he was like them; maybe that’s why you married him. But he was a good fucking man, you know? That’s why he kept taking care of me. That’s why he didn’t cut me off despite all your horrendous attempts at ruining my life even when I wasn’t in it anymore. You didn’t fucking care about the money I was spending. You wouldn’t have even known. Yeah, I know I spend as much money in a month as the average American household does in a year, but is that not what you do weekly? Context is the key here, and you wouldn’t have felt the impact I left on that bank account if you weren’t obsessively checking it to find reasons to do me in.”

She laughed again, finally leaning back in the chair.

“Funny, isn’t it? How you always called me a leech? A dependent. Yeah. I’m a dependent. I depended on you and-- fuck it, just Andrew’s money. And here you are, your life hanging on by a thread, dependent on machinery and the works of other people to keep you from slipping away.”

She glanced at the machine-- an series of thick tubes that somehow funneled to one that slipped into her mouth, keeping her lungs inflated. She stood up, moving over to it, eyes scanning whatever nonsense floated by on a screen about how many breaths she took in a minute. It didn’t mean anything to her. It just meant Eliza was alive.

All that stood between Sam and salvation was this machine.

She turned back to her mother.

“I think it’s also even funnier that you burned. You’ll burn again, you know. You were so concerned with God. A casual Christian, so perhaps not that concerned, but you did tell me I was going to hell once or twice. But I guarantee you, if I’m there, you’ll be several circles deeper than I am. Or did you not read Dante’s Inferno? Maybe you weren’t that interested. Or maybe you just weren’t that intellectual. I never saw you read anything.”

She bent down by the machine, tracing the wires, the tubes-- finding where it plugged itself into the wall. The source.

She glanced back up at Eliza-- restful, peaceful, far too content since she wasn’t being tormented by fire. It was all so undeserving.

She stayed down fingers resting on the plug at the socket.

Could she do this?

It felt too right. There wasn’t a shakiness in her hands. There wasn’t the nervousness that one would assume would come. The cable called to her, like the knife from months ago that she dragged across her wrist, told her this was the thing to do.

“I wished death upon you many nights, you know. Wished so many times you were just out of my life. And even when I was finally living alone-- four years ago, can you believe it?-- that wasn’t good enough, because I still had to see you from time to time. I wished you would get into a crash. Perhaps someone would try to assassinate dad, and hit you instead. Or that we lived in 18th century France and you were guillotined. That’d be entertaining. And it seems... I may have finally gotten my wish.”

She yanked the cord.

The hissing of the breathing machine stopped.

All that filled the room was the beep of Eliza’s heartbeat.

Slower.

And slower.

She rose, hand still clutching the cord, eyes wide.

It was happening.

Her chest didn’t move.

The monitor was practically sloping downward.

And finally...

A flatline.

The beep stayed ringing, consistent, long.

Any moment, she expected the door to burst open, medics running to attend. She needed to wait as long as possible. Let it be real.

She bent back down, rushed, shoved the plug back into the socket to let the breathing resume.

Standing up again, Eliza’s chest moved under the carnage of flesh and the clear sheet.

But the monitor did not fluctuate.

“I’ll be happy to see you in hell, mom.”

The door flew open.

Practically a mob of medics flooding in, rushing to the bedside with whatever horrendous array of revival tools they had to help revive her.

She stood back, at their command, their words gone not registering in her ears. Her eyes stayed on Eliza’s disfigured face, seeing her unmoving eyes, her chest still bouncing as if that movement meant life inside still occurred.

Their actions were not visible, a blur in her peripherals, chaos in the room trying to bring back something that had left and all that mattered to Sam was that it was gone.

Her mother was gone.

Her parents were dead.

With a twitch of an eyelid, she smiled, staring off at Eliza’s face, through her face, into nothingness as the medics realized the fruitfulness of their attempts.

And so she turned, moving for the door, the dress trailing after her once again as her heels tapped on the tile, leaving behind a corpse that no longer had its perfectly-manicured ironfist grip on her life.

She was free.

[allons-y-to-hogwarts-713]

Tagged by the always wonderful @karasimmons and @owlways-and-forever. Thank you both! ❤❤

A - age: 20


B - biggest fear: pretty sure I have something along the lines of pantophobia 


C - current time: 10:14pm


D - drink you last had: Mountain Dew


E - every day starts with: Exhaustion and dismissing alarms if I remembered to set them


F - favorite song: so many


G - ghosts, are they real: maybe


H - hometown: [you must be at least level 3 friend to unlock my state and at least level 8 friend to unlock the general vicinity of my hometown] (I can message you two and people I’ve talked with a lot if you really want to know)


I - in love with: Killian Jones and Michael Scofield and the Tenth Doctor and so many more fictional characters


J - jealous of: “People who can eat anything they want without getting fat.” Yeeeesssssssss do you mind if I keep this answer too? This is my brother and I so wish I got those genes instead


K - killed someone: nope, but there are several fictional characters I might if I ever went that far and could kill fictional characters


L - last time you cried: Friday night after finding out our old pastor passed away


M - middle name: C.


N - number of siblings: One older brother


O - one wish: to know how and be able to life and be at peace


P - person you last called/texted: my mom


Q - questions you’re always asked: can I braid/touch/play with your hair?? (As they’re already touching/playing with my hair without permission. Yes it’s very long, but it’s. just. hair. No touchy. And it’s not original to hold it to my face like a mustache. (There are a select few people I am close to that are allowed to touch my hair and even fewer that actually ask first.))


R - reasons to smile: I’m gonna go see Wicked in April, I miiiiiiiiiight get to meet Josh Groban if my friend is correct about our university’s Broadway trip of choice and depending on the day and if I can go, Prison Break is coming back, Netflix aSoUE throwing shade at the movie (which I still enjoyed too but on its own and not as a representation of the books), the possibilty of an actual musical OUAT episode, Sherlolly, vine compilations, baby animals


S - song last sang: “These Palace Walls” from Aladdin OBC, and like five seconds of “Fixer Upper” from Frozen bc it was on tv


T - time you woke up: around 8:45am bc of church (service starts at 9:00am; my parents and I were a tad bit late today… none of us woke up on time)


U - underwear color: whyyyy do you need to know this? I don’t wanna tell the Internet! ……..dark blue.


V - vacation destination: Like dream vacation? The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, a Disney park, the U.K., more NYC, and/or more Outer Banks, NC


W - worst habit: biting my nails, worrying about eeeeeverything, zoning out a lot, picking at my skin, experiencing the worst possible turnout of conversations in my head before a conversation even happens at all, etc.


X - x-rays you’ve had: teeth, and I thiiiiiiink chest once


Y - your favorite food: anything edible basically


Z - zodiac sign: taurus

I’m tagging @alys07 @agentmarymargaretskitz @techieninja18 @lightsandmetaphors @party-with-books and anyone else who wants to do it. And as always it’s no obligation. 🙂