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octuscle · 2 years ago

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Max

If only he'd bothered sooner, Maximilian thought as he stood in front of the graffiti-covered, slightly run-down apartment building facade in Leipzig's student district. It was bad enough that he had to go to this stupid fair. But a hotel would have been better than this shared room rented through airbnb. It had taken him a while to finally come around to the idea that it would make sense for his career not to always sit in the lab or at the computer. Getting in touch with clients occasionally was certainly supportive. But now the city was booked. At least by his budgetary standards, the hotel rooms that were still available were absurdly expensive. So three years after he had been awarded his doctorate summa cum laude, student communes once again. He could think of little worse.

Maximilian rang the doorbell. Indistinct rustling came from the intercom, but the door was pushed open, lights came on in the stairwell, and a "fourth floor, elevator is unfortunately broken" sounded from above. Things were getting better. He was panting by the time he had heaved his untrained body, the suitcase with a week's worth of clothes for the fair, and his laptop bag upstairs. Standing in the doorway was a young man he estimated to be maybe in his mid-20s. Leather pants, sandals, bare chest tattooed all over, full beard, and man-bun, or whatever they called that hairstyle. A hipster to the core. "Max?" he asked. "I'm Leo, welcome! Your room is right across the hall, here's the bathroom and there's the kitchen. Would you like to join us?". Maximilian declined with thanks. To sit down in the smoked kitchen, where cigarettes, shisha and obviously a few joints were consumed, was really the last thing he could imagine. The smell that hung in the apartment quickly got into his head. And it was Sunday night at 22:00, he just wanted to go to bed, tomorrow at 06:00 he had to be in the cab to help his colleagues open the booth.

Fuck, why did fairs always have to start so early. 05:00 was no time for him. His studies simply weren't behind him long enough for him to get used to the rhythm of professional life. Quietly, wearing only the boxers he had slept in, he went to the bathroom. Normally, he was only in Leipzig on weekends, and his five flatmates, with whom he had been sharing this flat for eight months now, were only used to movement in the hallway and bathroom at this time of day when someone came home on the weekend. He was just the buffer here, but they all liked each other. And with his salary, they could at least afford a cleaning lady and a fully automatic coffee machine.

Showered and shaved, he stood in front of his closet in his shared room. He hadn't even considered that he didn't have anything sensible for the trade fair. On weekends, he needed something for stoned evenings in the shared kitchen and for raved evenings. The only suit that hung here had been hanging here for eight months. And that was ten kilos ago, which he had lost thanks to regular jogging and yoga. Well, that had to be okay for today; the important customers never came on the first day of the trade show anyway. Nevertheless, he was looking forward to the day. Unlike his colleagues, who tended to hole themselves up in the labs, he had taken pleasure in sales. Accordingly, the nerds were happy to rarely come out of their corner for technical questions today; most of the work was done by Max and his somewhat younger colleague Kevin from Marketing. When the trade fair gates closed, the two of them moved from booth party to booth party, while the other colleagues probably sat happily in front of their computers in their hotel rooms. When he unlocked the door to the shared apartment at 10:00 p.m., the air was already as smoky as it was every evening. Max just quickly took off his suit, hung it neatly on the window for airing and sat down with his friends in adilettes, sweatpants and a T-shirt. It was nice to be home during the week. In Munich, where he had to live because of his job, he hadn't felt comfortable for a long time.

Fortunately, he didn't have to be at the fair so early today. But he didn't want to be too late either. After all, he had only been with the company for a good year and wanted to do a good job. But first a smoke and a coffee. And then off to the bathroom. Kevin and Max had a successful and entertaining day. The two of them rocked the booth simply because they both stood out fashionably. Between all the overweight older gentlemen in ill-fitting suits, they were both by far the best dressed. Max had been unsure at first whether the slim-fitting suit in the eye-catching Tratan fabric with the high-gloss Doc Martins didn't look a bit too Britpop, but Kevin assured him that his ass would come out great in it. And Max didn't get the impression that his competence was in doubt because of the outfit, either.

After his colleagues had left the booth on time again and no booth parties were scheduled for tonight, Max and Kevin registered for dinner at the WG. Loaded with two cases of red wine, the two arrived and were received accordingly euphoric. But it could also be due to the fact that at 6:00 p.m. the first joint was already circling. In any case, it was an exuberant evening and that Kevin would not spend the night in the hotel today was quickly clear after the blowjob in the bathroom.

When Max woke up in the morning around 06:00, he realized how lucky he was that Kevin was with him at the fair. Max was fresh out of university, the signatures on his doctorate certificate barely dry, and Kevin had been in the business a few years longer. That was a great comfort for the work at the booth. And for the past night it was not helpful, but just horny. Since he moved into the flat-sharing community two and a half years ago at the beginning of his doctoral studies, Max had kept himself fit mainly by playing soccer with the boys in the park, running track and doing yoga, and maybe the occasional jog and swim. Kevin had discovered his enjoyment of pumping iron a year and a half ago, and by now it was impossible to miss. Max didn't like mountains of muscle on himself, and he wouldn't have wanted Kevin's magnificent full beard and blatant undercut. But on the guy next to him in bed, it looked divine.

Max and Kevin showered together. Also because it was horny, primarily because the bathroom schedule was tight in the shared apartment. And because their schedule was tight too, Kevin couldn't go back to the hotel and get a fresh shirt. So, because of the uniform appearance, only a t-shirt under the suit had to do for Kevin and Max today. Whereby Max's t-shirt stretched over Kevin's chest alarmingly. As expected, today, Wednesday, was the day with the most trade visitors. And even though Max still lacked a lot of practical experience, he scored with brilliant theoretical knowledge. There was corresponding praise from Kevin as the two of them drank an after-work beer at the neighboring stand. Unfortunately, Kevin couldn't come with them to the WG today, as he still had an official customer appointment, at which, much to their annoyance, the older colleagues had to come along. Max enjoyed it all the more to sit at the kitchen table at 20:00 in sweat pants and T-shirt. Sure, the discussions sooner or later got to the point that Max had made himself a slave to the old economy and a climate destroyer to boot. But he could live with that. With a joint in any case.

Thursday morning. The fair was as good as over. After all, there was really good money in it. Max was grateful that he could combine his work as a student trainee so well with the hot phase of his doctorate. He had already used part of his salary in advance for the suit that he wore to the fair and that he also wanted to wear to the viva. Max thought he looked awesome in it. The slim-fitting navy blue suit was perhaps a bit conservative for him. But it accentuated his lean and wiry body just great! The day at the fair was exhausting. The visitors really only ever wanted to see his more experienced colleagues, so Max spent most of the time just standing around decoratively. He could hardly wait for the end of the trade show day. Kevin was invited to a trade show party and wanted to take him with him. And thank god the party turned out to be quite boring and so the two of them ended up in one of Max's favorite corner bars first. And then around 10:00 p.m. in Max's bed.

Kevin was certainly five years older than Max. A seasoned marketing manager and beast of a man. Max, who was just about to take his exams, didn't have to hide visually, but the hairy and full-bearded colossus didn't really fit in at all with the rather slender and still very youthful-looking student. Nevertheless, they had fucked like rabbits. Kevin had ordered a cab early and had gone to the hotel to freshen up and change for the fair. Max had left his waiter outfit in the catering area of the fair and just had to quickly jump in the shower and then into the S-Bahn before his shift started. Eyeing his reflection in the windowpane, he wondered if he should follow Kevin's example and get a beard and some tattoos, too. Friday was the last day of the fair, and things were getting high. Tomorrow, Saturday, maybe a few more foreign guests would come. But in itself the specialized public departed today starting from 15:00 o'clock so slowly. Max already had a few years of trade fair experience and had meanwhile risen to the position of shift leader. He knew some of the waiters and waitresses, some of them in passing, and some of them better from university. The jobs here were well paid and in demand. But he also had to walk some miles, easy money it was not. Still, Max enjoyed the day. He assumed this would be the last time he did this. Next year, he was either going to write his doctoral thesis. Or already work in the chemical industry. He had enough offers. Too bad, actually, he looked' really good with the white shirt, the narrow black tie that disappeared between the third and fourth button in the shirt and the long white apron over the tight black pants. He was a handsome man, and he knew it. And that occasionally brought him even with a stud like Kevin.

In the evening, he made three crosses when he could take off his shoes. His feet were just used to sneakers and Docs. Good thing tomorrow would be the last day he got to serve trade show guests dressed as a penguin. The others had the foresight to order pizza, beer and something to smoke, and by 9:00 p.m. Max was exhausted and in bed.

The last day of the fair. Finally. If only because he no longer had to argue with his stupid supervisor. Max had only one or two trade fairs less experience, but at just under 26 years of age, he was clearly the younger one. And his boss let him feel that. That's why he wasn't allowed to work in service today, but had to work as a barista in the coffee bar. One advantage was that he could keep his clothes on without any problems. Sneakers, jeans, T-shirt and beanie. Only the black apron he had to wear. And another advantage was that rat-hot Kevin would drop by from time to time. Today rather more often. On the last day, there was simply little going on. At 4:00 p.m., the first booth builders arrived and began to dismantle the booths. And Kevin asked Max if he would like to go out for a bite to eat with him before Kevin headed back to Munich. Kevin had chosen a steak restaurant that Max would never go to. Much too expensive. And he lived mostly vegan. But being invited by the hottest guy at the whole fair was more than okay. The only pity was that Kevin didn't have time to come up for a fuck today. But at least Max could still suck his boner as a farewell. A worthy end to a strenuous week at the fair.

Sunday, 10:00 o'clock! Finally slept in again. Actually, Max should have been working on his bachelor thesis. But among the other sociologists he was considered a mega nerd anyway. A bachelor with not even 25 was rather unusual at his faculty… And today the weather was great. Having breakfast somewhere in the sun now just sounded more appealing. And finally he could just slip into his pants and tank top without showering and hide his unwashed hair under his hat. A quick glance in the mirror. Perfect. And tomorrow he would make an appointment with the tattoo artist he trusted. He would definitely invest some of his hard-earned money from the past week in ink. Let's see what kind of inspiration he could get on the street.

#inked man #tank top #male tf #age reduction #reality change

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girltomboy · 10 months ago

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70 horrible questions answer game

Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

I'm on good terms with my mom rn, but my dad and I are estranged. I haven't seen him in like 4 years and he doesn't really answer my messages anymore. My overall relationship with my family in general is usually fine but sometimes strained because of... well, generational trauma. I'm not particularly close with anyone in my family, not in a family way at least

2. Who did you last say "I love you" to?

My partner

3. Do you regret anything?

I don't, I rarely feel regret per se, I don't wish anything had happened differently simply because I think it's a waste of time. I mean, I probably have minor/petty gripes with how certain things went for me, but I don't dwell

4. Are you insecure?

I used to be very insecure, but I've grown a lot in my mid 20s. I'm way past that phase of my life, obviously I recognize I still have to work on myself regarding certain aspects, but I'm also aware and proud of my progress

5. What is your relationship status?

Sorry but saying "I'm taken" makes me feel like a high school student, whereas "partnered" makes me feel 50. There has to be a middle ground in the English language

6. How do you want to die?

I dunno, old age probably.

7. What did you last eat?

A clementine

8. Played any sports?

I used to play volleyball in middle + high school, and after that there hasn't been a single opportunity for me to play an organized sport as an adult. I miss playing team sports, but idk how to go about that now :(

9. Do you bite your nails?

My nails have always been rock hard, and trying to bite them is really hard and a bit painful for my teeth, so that's a habit I've thankfully just never been able to pick up. But I do eat the skin around them, for my daily protein intake

10. When was your last physical fight?

Probably middle school, feels a little sad to think that one day I had my last physical fight and didn't know I wasn't gonna do that anymore

11. Do you like someone?

Well, my boyfriend and I are my favorite people

12. Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

No, I don't think I've ever made it that long. I think I did stay up 24 hours though, probably in college, but barely

13. Do you hate anyone at the moment?

Not really a specific person, maybe some upper management at my job but I think that pertains more to capitalism in general rather than an individual

14. Do you miss someone?

I miss A LOT of people all the time! My boyfriend, my grandma, my late grandma, my best friend, my college friends, my college professors, my high school teachers, my high school classmates, my middle school classmates, my primary school teachers- I could sit here and write paragraphs about all of them individually.

15. Have any pets?

Not where I currently live, but my grandma and I share joint custody with a dog of 9 years <3

16. How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

I have a headache, I'm thirsty, and I can't wait to go to bed. But I'm relaxed and feeling satisfied after a super productive gaming night

17. Ever made out in the bathroom?

Which bathroom? I've definitely made out with my bf in my bathroom lol but not any other bathrooms as far as I can remember right now

18. Are you scared of spiders?

Not really, but I do squash them sometimes

19. Would you go back in time if given the chance?

Temporarily yes, but I wouldn't want to teleport back in time and relive years or decades all over again. Maybe hang out in the past for a few days and then go back to my current life, because I'm sure I'd want to come back eventually

20. Where was the last place you snogged someone?

My hallway, saying goodbye to my bf

21. What are your plans for this weekend?

Just like every weekend: absolutely nothing :) sleep in (but not too much), make breakfast (or lunch), clean around my apartment, play video games, get stoned, read, just stuff I usually do at home. The options are endless

22. Do you want to have kids? How many?

No, I don't want any. In another life perhaps, I'd want a daughter

23. Do you have piercings? How many?

No 😭 I'm such a coward, I was seriously considering getting a nose piercing, but I chickened out & gave up on the idea when I googled what it looks like without the actual piercing in, and realized the hole is too visible and it's just permanently there forever! Even if it closes. So now I feel like a septum is the only viable option for me, but it's gonna take at least another year until I gather the courage to even start considering it lol, in conclusion: zero

24. What were your best subjects?

In high school I was a linguistics nerd and absurdly good at geography. I also had fun in P.E.

25. Do you miss anyone from your past?

See answer number 14 😭 I probably miss my late grandma the most out of everyone who isn't in my life anymore. Cause I feel like we didn't spend enough time together even though she raised me for years, and she just knew nothing about me as a young adult, as the woman she raised.

26. What are you craving right now?

A room temperature glass of water and some crisp seedless grapes

27. Have you ever broken someone's heart?

No idea if it was ever that serious, I did "reject"? Some people in my life lol but I don't know if they suffered over it and resent me or if it was a shrug and move on type of situation

28. Have you ever been cheated on?

I had some iffy moments when I was in a long-distance relationship with an American girl as a teenager, like really questionable and odd. But I think I was too naive to make a big deal out of them, or I didn't have the words to speak up

29. Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

Unfortunately I think yes, same girl from the previous answer. I'll never know though.

30. What's irritating you right now?

Right now as in right now now nothing lol but right now as in nowadays I think I'm put off by insecurity and excessive self pity. Like wallowing and stuff. Not to say I never do that, but the place I'm in currently just doesn't have enough space for that. It denotes too much self absorption and not enough self awareness and thinking beyond yourself. Though when I encounter people who struggle with that I'm sympathetic and patient, it's just something I used to see in myself a lot and now that I've moved past that phase I see it more clearly

31. Does somebody love you?

A lot of people do in many different ways

32. What is your favorite color?

It changes often, but right now I'm drawn to browns and nudes.

33. Do you have trust issues?

I think I was born with them, but I've been working on myself and improving. I think a certain level of skepticism is necessary and healthy, though

34. Who/what was your last dream about?

Last night I had a really weird chain of dreams, like my yard at home looked different, it was as if I was actually living in my neighbor's home and had their yard. And then there was this chain-link fence that separated my yard from the neighbors', and in the dream it freaked me out a little that they could just see us through the fence, but some voice reassured me that they were nice and harmless. Then I started being more confident walking around my yard, and there was so much green, like trees and climbing plants all over the fence, and grass, and so much shade. Then it was like I was living elsewhere, and like my parents house had this long winding staircase that went up into some kind of tower, where I have a faint idea that there were human remnants? Or something like that. And it was kinda freaking me out, and I think something about the couch in my grandma's room. And my bf was there too, maybe we were talking on a bench in the forest about all this. I've been trying to piece back together a clear image of this dream, but not very successfully.

35. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

It's probably my boyfriend, although that hasn't happened in a long time. I wanna say it's been too long for it to be my boyfriend, maybe it was my work friend? I remember getting emotional when she was telling me about this other coworker's personal problems one time when we went out for wine, like I had no idea she had stuff weighing her down.

36. Do you give out second chances too easily?

Second yes, probably too easily. Third, maybe not. It really depends, but usually not. Second chances I do give out shamelessly

37. Is it easier to forgive or forget?

Oh, it's definitely easier to forgive. You forgive someone for them or for yourself, it's a choice to make. You have no choice in forgetting

38. Is this year the best year of your life?

It's only been a week of it, can I give it some more time? 😭 So far, not really, but it's an unfair assessment to make rn. It still has time to become that! Hopefully it can become the best year of my life so far, not of my entire life, I'm not even 30 yet.

39. How old were you when you had your first kiss?

22 years old

40. Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

Outside in the world, on the street, no. Not even at the beach. I did use to walk in my yard with no clothes on when I was little. It was my way of unwinding after kindergarten. I used to pee standing up 😭

51. <- the questions actually go from 40 to 51 and then continue like that?? 😭 I only just noticed omg Favorite food?

This is sending me lmaooo UM I've been craving my grandma's meatballs and sauce for days now (I was on a walk and literally smelled it in the air randomly) probably not my #1 favorite food ever, but it's a food I'm never not in the mood for.

52. Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

I never know what people mean when they say that. Does it mean for a reason, as in part of a big plan? Like the biblical Plan that god has for us? I don't believe people are given their own cross to carry from birth to death

53. What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night.

I did go to bed last night eventually, and before sleeping I put on moisturizer, said goodnight to my bf and put on an asmr video from this girl I found on youtube who actually understands asmr (there are very very few asmr creators that really understand it)

54. Is cheating ever okay?

I think being the victim of cheating is what ultimately fucks up an overwhelming lot of people, so I can't give it any justification

55. Are you mean?

Probably sometimes, I never try to be though

56. How many people have you fist fought?

A regular bunch, maybe less than 5 in total, if we're not counting fist fighting the same person several times

57. Do you believe in true love?

Sure I do, if I'm capable of it then someone else has to be too, right?

58. Favorite weather?

Whatever the hell there's in the air during spring months, crisp air, warm breeze, sunlight fresh like the skin after a scab falls off.

59. Do you like the snow?

I grew up with heavy winters and shoveling/sweeping the snow off the sidewalk and in our yard, and I've experienced too much of its cold powers to "like" it. But I can't deny there's something magical about it. As I grow older I fear it less, it's a bit incredible that this is happening to me.

60. Do you wanna get married?

Not legally, but I wouldn't be opposed to a symbolic, unofficial ceremony. Just some vows and rings and a pretty place, and some close friends. Maybe the official part can happen when I'm older, like a formality like writing your will or something.

61. Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

I mean if we're dating sure, my bf and I call each other baby all the time. Huge no for strangers though lol

62. What makes you happy?

And that orange, it made me so happy, As ordinary things often do Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park. This is peace and contentment. It’s new.

63. Would you change your name?

I like my name, and am attached to it, having been assigned it by my mother, grown up with it and everything. I've always had this modest list in the back of my head of names I wished I'd been given. Never wrote it down or anything, but it's there and not stagnant lol. But I don't think I'd ever change it for real

64. Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

My bf is easy to kiss, I'd be having a great time

65. Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

I have been in this situation many times, but not with best friends. It probably depends on our dynamic, but if I like them back then I'd seize the opportunity to confess as well. I'm open to love, friends to lovers is how I got into my relationship

66. Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

Most of my male friends, yeah. Most of my friends, actually. I don't tend to hold myself back if I know the people I'm with don't either.

67. Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

These opposite sex questions are sendingg meee 😭😭😭 my bf before he went to take a bath

68. Who's the last person you had a deep conversation with?

My friends on discord probably, or my boyfriend. I actually can't wait to reunite with my work friend and have some talks with her, just about stuff.

69. Do you believe in soulmates?

Sure yeah, I know anyone can connect with anyone, but I think for every person there's a few people that they connect with on a different level. Like I think some people can really see inside you, and the other way round.

70. Is there anyone you would die for?

I honestly don't think anyone's life is more precious than mine (or the other way round). I think that would be too painful

#this set of high school curious cat ask fm ass questions 💀#like where are TEN of them? lmaooo #i love tumblr ask games

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octuscle · 2 years ago

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#inked man #tank top #male tf #reality change

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watermelonlovershigh · 3 years ago

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Day in the Life of a Single Dad with a 2 Yr Old

This was requested by this anon.

AN: let me know if you guys like fluff fics & i'll try to write them as frequent as my smut & sicfics. also couldn't come up with a better title so... yeah the title is a lil iffy.

Things to help you understand this story better:

(Harry is a single parent/Harry is 25/Harry is a healthy eater/Loves his daughter so much)

Harry is peacefully sleeping in his bed alone. Covers to his chin, curled up on his side. That is until his beautiful two year old daughter comes barging in there to wake her daddy up. He shouldn't be asleep she thinks. It's too late. In reality its only 7 am on a Saturday, but to an early riser like her, he should be awake and playing with her. Or making her breakfast.

Her little feet pad over to her daddy's side of the bed. She can barley reach him due to the height of his bed, but manages to stretch her little arms up and taps on Harrys face. "Daddy, wake up." she speaks in her little British accent. Harry slowly opens his eyes and immediately squeezes them shut because of the sunlight coming from the window blinding him. "Daddy!!" his daughter says a little louder.

If his daughter was any older, Harry might tell her to wait a few minutes or go back to bed because it's too early, but he knows she's only 2. So he forces his eyes open again and reaches down to hook his hands in her tiny arm pits to lift her on the bed. "Why are you awake so early babe." he asks in a gravely voice, while placing her on his bare chest.

"I hungry." her tiny voice replies.

"Mhmm what would you like?" Harry mumbles sleepily.

"Sweets." she says innocently.

"I don't think so love. We don't eat sweets for breakfast. It will give you a tummy ache. What about a healthy fruit salad. We have some Watermelon and Strawberries in the fridge." he replies to his daughter who's straddling his chest.

"NO, I WANT SWEETS! I WANT SWEETS!" she yells back with angry tears threatening to escape.

"D/n, we do not yell!" her father speaks firmly. "We can't have sweets but we can have something other than a fruit salad if you want. Lets go down and see what we have." With a tight grip on his upset daughter, Harry gets out of bed and makes his way down the spiral staircase and into the kitchen.

This wasn't something new to him. Ever since his daughter turned 2 in August, she's been acting up a lot more than previously. You could say it was the terrible twos everyone talks about. Harry tries his hardest to teach her the proper ways to behave but it's been proven to be a lot more difficult than anticipated. Especially hard when he's busy all the time and isn't with her 24/7 like stay-at-home mums are or stay-at-home dads were. He's a musician. Not a so called musician that gets excited to book a Friday night at the local pub. No, Harry is a international pop star.

When he ended up getting a one-night stand pregnant, he told them they could do what they wanted as far keeping the baby or not. Harry has always been one to agree that its a women's choice. But his one-night stand wanted to have the baby. Honestly, you'd think Harry would get angry that she decided to keep it, but he wasn't. Maybe it wasn't the ideal situation to have a baby from a one-night stand that he had on tour, but he being the loving Harry everyone seems to know and love, of course tried to look at it as a positive thing. But when his daughter was born, his one-night stand got her minute of fame by saying she had Harry Styles baby and left. Abandoned her own blood. Harry had to get full custody of his daughter and ever since then she's been living with her daddy.

It was really hard the first few months of her life. A baby needs their mothers comfort and warmth and she had none of that. She never got the opportunity to breast feed or feel the love of her mother, and Harry feels sick just thinking about it. So Harry put his career on hold for a few months to take care of his daughter and show her that someone cares for her. He never wanted her to feel unloved. It was his biggest fear. That's why every day since the day she was born, he tells her how much he loves her. Shows her how much he loves her.

He did all her nightly feedings with warmed up formula in bottles. He changed her diapers at all hours of the day. He gave her baths every day to make sure she smelled nice and clean. And when she turned 1 years old and was getting more active, he took her to the studio with him and let her play her toys.

Just because Harry is a single parent doesn't mean he doesn't have help or support. He has a lot of help when it comes to taking care of his daughter. His sister Gemma babysits all the time for him when he's got something very important to do at the studio where he'd prefer if his daughter wasn't there. Harry's mum watches his daughter frequently when he has a interview he needs to attend. Even some of Harry's friends watch or take care of her when needed. Especially some of his ex bandmates that have kids of their own now. Harry's daughter has playdates with Bear, Liam's son about once a month. They're about the same age and their dads are friends so it works out great. His daughter has even played with Freddie, Louis's son. Not as much because Freddie lives in America but when he comes to England to spend time with his father they hang out. Freddie and Harry's daughter are quite similar. They were both created due to a one-night stand. The only difference is Freddie's mum wanted him. Didn't abandon him. So he has a relationship with both parents. Needless to say, besides all the things a mother can give to their child, his daughter has a good life. People love her, and once again that's all Harry could ask for. People and himself to love his daughter.

After fighting with his daughter about what to eat for breakfast, she finally settles for some Strawberry pancakes as long as they have chocolate syrup on top. Harry gives in and allows a little chocolate for her to have with breakfast. She sits in her high chair munching on the pancakes while Harry cleans the mess from cooking. Like washing the pan and wiping the stove off. When he's finished cleaning, he notices his daughter has stopped eating and is just making a mess with her food at this point.

Walking up to her high chair, Harry bends down and lifts her sticky body up and says, "Alright, time to give you a bath little one."

"No bath daddy! Me no want a bath!" she yells and attempts to kick her fathers legs but Harry grabs ahold of them in his big hand and stops her movements which makes her small body more angry. She screams very loud in his ear and pounds her baby fist in his shoulders, expressing her anger. Harry really wants to get upset. But what he's read in parenting books is that if you ignore their behavior and act like you don't see their tantrums, it will make it better and they'll give up on trying so hard to show their anger. Because most toddlers have tantrums to try and get attention from their parent(s). By ignoring it, you're not feeding into it.

"I'm sorry but you have chocolate all over you love. Need to get you clean because I need to take you to the studio for a few hours with me today. How does that sound?" trying to make bath time and going to the studio sound fun.

After fighting with Darcy to get in the bath, Harry finally got her in the tub. He struggled to wash her curly hair due to the fact she wouldn't sit still, even after he gave her a rubber ducky to play with. Once he's washed her hair and chocolate covered body, Harry picks her up and wraps her in a big fluffy towel, then takes her to her room to get changed. He manages to get a pull up on her, (still trying to potty train), and puts a lovely red track suit on her with some Gucci shoes. Then he carries her in front of the bathroom mirror to brush her hair.

"Be good for daddy and let me brush your hair." Harry tells his daughter in a gentle manner.

As soon as he passes the brush in her hair, his daughter screams, "Owww, it hurts daddy!"

10 minutes later, Harry has brushed her locks and put her hair into some cute pigtails. With his 2 year old crying in the process. He's pretty good at doing hair because he used to have longer hair himself. Then he picks her up off the counter and places her on the ground, walking her to his bedroom.

"Can you lay in my bed while I get ready? I'll put on your favorite show." he questions calmly.

"Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig!" is daughter chants.

"Alright, alright." He picks up his baby girl and sets her in the middle of his bed. Then he grabs the remote to turn his wall mounted tv on. He scrolls on Netflix and finds Peppa Pig to keep her occupied. Then goes to his bathroom to get dressed and ready to head to the studio.

When he exits his bathroom fully dressed and ready to leave, he finds a sleeping toddler on his bed, snuggled into his pillow. Her perfectly outlined lips slightly parted. Harry can't help but smile. He loves his baby girl with his entirety and seeing her peaceful like this makes him so happy. He turns the tv off and carefully picks her up into his arms and heads down the stairs to his car in the garage. But not before stopping by her room to pick up her mini backpack that holds extra pullups and a sippy cup full of juice, with some of her toys as well. Her tiny face is stuffed into her daddy's neck and Harry can feel light puffs of air hitting his skin. He puts his daughter in her car seat and buckles her up properly. Then gets in himself to drive to the studio.

About 5 minutes away from the studio, Darcy wakes up from her late morning nap and whines out, "Me wanna go home and play with you!"

"I'm sorry but I have to work for a little bit. I'll play with you when we get home later. How does that sound Hmm?" She was not satisfied with her fathers answer and starts wailing. Hot salty tears run down her little cheeks and she makes exaggerated sounds to emphasize her crying. She kicks at the seat in front of her and balls her fist up as if she's going to hit something but unfortunately to her, she can't reach a single thing due to her seat belt. Once again, Harry just ignores her cries of anger and turns the radio on loud to block it out.

By the time they arrive at the studio, Harry's daughter has calmed down. She's still upset but at least she isn't crying and that's progress in Harry's eyes. He parks his car in a secluded area to hide from potential paparazzi and unbuckles her. Then shields her face form potential cameras and make their way into the music studio. Harry has to record some audio for his newest album so that's why he needed to come in today. They enter the studio where the rest of his solo band is. He prefers to record the instruments live instead of manufactured drums and guitars.

At some point when he was getting ready in his home bathroom, Harry had called his assistant and told her he needed to bring his daughter in to the studio with him so she could watch her while he's busy. She agreed but being Harry Styles assistant, it wasn't really an option. Not that Harry would force her but she's an assistant for a reason. To do jobs Harry assigns her. In this case babysit his toddler while he records a song. He doesn't have anyone else today and unfortunately can't leave her at home with a mummy like many other fathers can. He's just happy his job allows his daughter to be somewhat a part of it. Not in the spotlight because he keeps his daughters identity a secret from the public for her protection, but as far as her going to the studio with him or when she gets older, she can come on tour with him.

Harry's assistant takes his toddler and her mini backpack full of her essentials. They hang out in the open area, out of the way from his band and he himself so he can get what he needs to get done so they can wrap everything up for the album. Harry's daughter actually loves his assistant. They have grown quite close over the 2 years of her life. But because she's going through her terrible twos, the toddler didn't want to behave for anyone today.

About an hour into Harry's work, he's interrupted with a frantic assistant that has a screaming toddler in her arms. "I'm sorry Harry but she's been crying for about 30 minutes and I've done everything I know to do to get her to calm down." Harry isn't upset his assistant came to him for help with his baby. That's not the type of guy he is.

Harry takes off his headphones and walks over to them. He picks his little girl up into his tattooed arms and questions, "Love, why are you upset for? If you keep crying, you'll end up with a tummy ache."

She just hugs around her fathers neck with her little arms and says, "Want you daddy." Those words almost breaks his heart. Harry doesn't know where this sudden want for him has came from.

"You can have me all you want when I'm finished working, alright. I'll be done shortly." He struggles to pass her back over to his assistant, but finally manages. "Maybe she's hungry. I'll give you a few pounds to take her through drive thru at McDonalds. Would you like McDonalds d/n?" She just nods her pigtailed head. He would suggest for them to go inside, but the public knows what his assistant looks like so they'd know that was his daughter. The daughter that has her identity secret for now. His assistant takes the toddler to the McDonalds drive thru and orders her some chicken nuggets. Even through Harrys pescatarian, he still allows his daughter to eat meats. Then Harry goes back to work in the studio.

Around 2 in the afternoon, Harry and the two year old make it back home. The rest of the evening was a little hectic with a few tantrums here and there. Harry cooked them a nice meal for dinner at about 6 and played dolls with her in the short period of time she wasn't upset. Then comes the dreaded bedtime.

Harry changes her into some pjs and helps her brush her teeth. Then when he went to put her in bed, she started crying for the 100th time today. "Me sleep with you daddy." she cries out. There's a part of him that wants to say yes and cave in, but the parent part of him is saying no. She needs to learn to be a big girl. Harry really doesn't understand why she wants to sleep with him all the sudden. She normally has no problem sleeping by herself.

"No baby. You need to be a big girl and sleep in your bed sweetheart. I'm right next door if you need me though okay." His daughter clings to his body and cries fat tears. Harry decides to stay in her room until she falls asleep. So that's what he does. When she subsumes to sleep, he lays her down in her bed and pulls the covers up over her frail body. Then exits her room quietly.

Harry changes into some comfier clothes himself and goes down stairs to get himself a glass of wine. Then he sits on the sofa and turns a series on to watch before bed. Times like now is when he wishes he had a wife. He'd even take a girlfriend. Just someone to hold him late at night and cuddle with him. Even have some type of intimacy. Ever since he found out about his daughter, Harrys game of sleeping around stopped. He didn't want to keep sleeping with random girls when he was becoming a dad. He was raised better than that. So needless to say he was lonely. In every way possible. Mentally, and physically.

Whilst in the middle of the show he's watching, Harry is brought back to reality when he hears a blood-curdling scream from up the stairs. He rushes to set his wine down on the coffee table and runs to his daughters room. When he walks in there, his heart sinks. The toddler is crying so hard she's gasping for air. It's a different cry that he's seen through-out the day. Unlike her terrible twos tantrums, this cry sounds like she's scared. Harry runs to her and picks her up. "Hey what's wrong my love? Tell daddy what's wrong." he asks of his child, soothing her to his chest.

As her tears slow down in the comfort of her daddy's arms, she mumbles, "You left me." Once again Harrys confused because she never acts like this.

Harry walks out her bedroom and goes to sit with her on the sofa downstairs. Then he turns her around on his lap to look at her face more clearly. "Baby, you need to tell daddy why you got scared or why you want me all the sudden."

The little 2 year old takes a deep breath and speaks in her little accent, "On Peppa Pig, they...they said kids like me are supposed to have a mummy AND a daddy. They said daddies can't love their babies like mummy's can. Me was scared you don't love me anymore." Her voice cracked saying the last bit with fresh tears running down her face and Harry has glossy eyes looking down at his distressed but beautiful mini twin. That's right. They look almost exactly alike. He thanks God every day for that because he doesn't want to look at his daughter and be reminded of a one-night stand that's a piece of shit of a mother.

"Look at me d/n. I love you so so so much. I will NEVER stop loving you." at this point he has to take a deep breath so compose his emotions, "And not all kids have mummies. There are a lot of kids who just have a daddy or some just have a mummy. But it doesn't mean I love you any less. Okay?! Don't listen to what they said in Peppa Pig. They were wrong." Finishing his speech, Harry pulls her tiny body forward and hugs her to his warm chest. He has silent tears running down his face. Both hands spread over her boney back. He thinks tonight is appropriate enough to allow her to sleep with him. She needs comfort. "Would you still like to sleep with me?" he asks in a whisper.

"Pleaseee." she responds while crying. Harry stands form the couch, turning the television off and abandoning his barley touched wine glass, and goes to his bedroom. The turns the overhead light off and walks over to the bed. Peeling the covers back, Harry and his daughter, whose on his chest, slide under the warm blankets together. Now she has just about stopped crying. Just little whimpers leaving her body, along with a few hiccups. Harry reaches over to turn the lamp off, leaving the room completely dark. He shushes his baby until her eyes slowly close and she falls asleep with her face burred in his neck and arms around his neck. Her short legs lay limp over his stomach.

Harry has a difficult time falling asleep that night. He feels sorry for his baby girl because he worries that movies and shows with two parents will make her sad and left out because she doesn't have a mummy. He just prays she will see all she'll ever need is her daddy to protect her and love her for the rest of eternity.

MASTERLIST & My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

#fluff #harrystyles #harrystylesoneshot #dad!harry #dad harry #dadharry #dadharrystyles #harry #styles #singleparent #harrystylessingleparent #comfort #terribletwos #ddm #daddydaughtermoments

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lilacerull0 · 2 years ago

Note

Been doing some spring-cleaning on my Amy playlist and driving myself insane thinking about Amy/11 as a sun and moon dynamic (obviously, who's who switches constantly, but always tied together, yet can never permanently be that way), so now I'm dead-set (see: deluding myself) on When The Day Met The Night being an Amy/11 song.

Because, and this is going to be a mini-essay, the song doesn't make it clear who's who between the sun and the moon + she and he, I think it's largely read as he being the moon and she being the moon but it can be read both ways -> Amy and 11 never really fitting neatly into one box.

And the song (and the album as a whole) has very overt fairy tale influences -> like a name in a fairy tale

As a bonus, the album this is on, but not this song sadly, has quite a few references to Rimbaud's A Season In Hell

But onto the song itself:

The links to the many gardens, especially the idea that the gardens are where he comes back to her (S5, the big bang Dr finding her asleep in her garden, S6, Amy finding out that he didn't die while she's in her background, S7, the scene with the convo with Rory where the TARDIS can be heard arriving)

Thinking about how 10's regen to 11 going roughly, collapsing and bleeding energy everywhere, literally just hanging on

But also Amy's "why did you say five minutes" in the garden and the look on her face when she says that -> the idea that she spent a lot of her 12 years barely hanging on to a sense of normality and sanity

Thinking about both of them making promises not to leave the other, textually or implied, and both of them breaking said promises....

To end this insane ramble, I'll leave you with the knowledge that if you queue Little Amy (the murray gold track) before When The Day Met The Night and then set the spotify crossfade to 3secs, the two tracks sync really nicely <3

This is an EXCELLENT match (thank you for the rant :")))) Keeping the reply under the cut because things got messy and deranged :/

Just... thinking about Night/Day imagery in general and how 11 and Amy meet during the night and each one of them thinks of the other as the sun while perceiving themselves as the moon. Considering how 10 felt about regenerating and how that predestined 11 to have his actual identity constantly creep up on him which he isn't thrilled about because he's preoccupied with holding on to everything 10 was. (INSANE how Ten has to deal with Rose's ghost, the ghost of a living person and eventually ends up as one himself. He lives because Eleven wants to keep him alive, but it's not quite him... never a proper ghost, never a proper person...) it's only at the end of his arc that 11 acknowledges 10's vanity of all things. And then regarding Amy, there's the otherness she experiences in every timeline, even in the one where she remembers the Doctor, her drawings and artworks of him exist in her bedroom still. What a crooked solar system! The Moon chasing The Sun, 11 not allowing 10 to go, Amy waiting for 11.

Back to the Night/Day thing (the stuff above was a prelude, I guess), 11 comes back to Amy during the night (5x01) and leaves her during the day. (The God Complex) Key motif of The Romantic Period!!!! But also reminiscent of Symbolism. (Romanticism and Modernism as Amy's Art Movements Agenda is going strong) Actually your analysis here SCREAMS Verlaine's À La Promenade to me. ("and dying, like a sunshine of a dream" it says + mentions of costumes and vows, but again it's so much better in french dbdjdjjdjdjr modernism is freaky translated, but not the freaky that was originally intended to be portrayed bdjdjdjdjd)

Ooooooh the gardens, it gets even crazier with the gardens. The symbolism is ANCIENT, they are beauty and innocence and life, but are also wilderness and escapism and a ticket to nowhere. But for Amy, each reading of the garden kind of starts to exist with all these qualities exaggerated depending on the narrative moment, to the point of all of it becoming unbearable. She waits for the Doctor as a child and the green enveloping her house is too messy, she marries Rory and her new garden is too neat. Too messy and too perfect constantly being presented as the only two options Amy has, they only two ways in which she's allowed to be perceived. Truly haunted by her own dichotomy-defined presence. (never really fitting neatly into one box!!!!!!) "You could really spend a lifetime in here - not that I'm going to." on one hand she's been spending lifetimes in gardens like the TGWW one. On the other hand the TGWW garden is everything she wants, but Amy won't even consider it because she craves the Big Dramatic Moment, the feeling of having something happen to her even and especially if it's unpleasant ("kind of a good hurt") because she's been stuck in the in-between since forever and she doesn't want her dreams handed to her without the journey, without a sense of achievement. Wish fulfilment isn't appealing to her at all.

AAAAAAAND I wandered off here and this is INSANE and incoherent, but YAY for the Rimbaud cameos in music, I LOVE to see it.

#amy pond #doctor who #dw meta #amy pond unrelated media universe #💌restless wind inside a letter box💌#aaaaaaah and thank you for the tip (and the rec!!!) i'll make sure to listen to it like that #and to check out pretty. odd. in its entirety #my friend will be thrilled about this she's been urging me to listen to p!atd for quite a while #so sorry about this my thoughts just happened i suppose

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justalost4girl · 3 years ago

Text

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

#lorraine broughton x reader #lorraine broughton #atomic blonde #charlize theron

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themoonandotherslikeit · 3 years ago

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Painted - Chapter Two

“Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.” - Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Y/N has moved on, her scars are barely noticeable anymore, and she’s finally stable. Or at least she was. 10 years after the worst day of her life, Y/N found herself staring face to face with an unimaginable horror. In the wake of her worst nightmare come to life, she finds herself reunited with the man that saved her all those years ago - Agent Dean Winchester who had left her a decade before broken and wanting. Dean Winchester has spent the last 10 years trying desperately to forget Y/N and the tragedy that he pulled her out of, but when she called asking for his help he dropped everything to come to her aid as he knew he always would. Can Y/N and Dean solve the mystery that has resurfaced after all this time? Will they be able to resist the pull between them? Or will this be the final brush strokes on a canvas, sealing their fate for good?

No Beta currently, all mistakes are my own! Pairing: Dean/Reader Tags: Dark!Fic, Agent!Dean, Serial Killer Fic, Smut etc.

Chapter Two

He’s back.

It took Dean Winchester no time to drop everything he was doing and go to her. His coffee was left to cool at his desk, his computer booted up, and his case file open wide for the world to see. As he sped down the streets of downtown Boston, he clicked on the siren on his dash.

“Is he in the house? Are you in danger?”

“No. I’m safe.”

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. It had been ten goddamned years, but when he heard her voice he was shot back in time. He’d thought about disconnecting the number dozens of times. He hadn’t been a field agent in a long time, after all. Eight years away from the city, and only one back at the Bureau. He was getting his toes wet - not sure who he wanted to be.

But if Y/N called, he knew where he would be.

Making it to her house in record time, he drove through the already-open gate. She had followed his instructions and called in the break in. Local PD was already on the premises and seeing the squad cars let him breathe easier.

“I’m safe.”

It was why he had chosen the job, after all. To keep people safe. It was also the reason he left. He got out of the car, remembering to take his keys with him as an afterthought and pushed through the open door.

He stopped mid stride when he saw her. It had been a long time, a decade, a lifetime. She wore jeans and an oversized flannel, her Pitbull rested protectively at her feet. Her hair laid wet and tangled, pushed behind her ears as she nodded, talking to an uniformed officer.

She looked up, her eyes meeting his in a moment that completely slowed time. “Dean,” she exhaled his name like a sigh of relief.

“Hi Sweetheart.”

The officer turned to look at him, surprised. “The FBI? Agent Winchester, I didn’t realize you’d be here…”

“Have you taken her statement?” The officer nodded to him, his eyes still wide in shock. “Then I’ll take it from here.”

The Officer stepped out of the way, making room for Dean to go to her. Y/N stood as he approached, her hands flexing at her side like she was actively trying not to reach for him. “You came.”

“I told you I would,” he said quietly.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Her voice broke, her eyes filling with tears.

“Hey, I’ve got you. You’re safe.” He reached for her, capturing her by the waist before she collapsed. He held her steady, lowering her back onto the stool.

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, holding her head. “Haven’t eaten today.”

Dean crouched slightly to meet her eyes, his hands on either side of her. “Show it to me, then I’ll take you to get something to eat.” He reached up to push a lock of damp hair behind her ear.

“I can’t leave Castiel here.”

“We will take him with us,” he promised, offering a supportive grin. “We will eat on the patio.”

“Okay.”

She took his extended arm and allowed him to support her weight as they walked down the hallway. He didn’t need her to show him where the painting was, he just followed the sounds of crime scene techs talking, photographs being snapped.

“Did you notice anything else out of place?”

“Just the painting.”

One of the officer’s was calling to the prison. It was impossible that he could’ve gotten out, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t have resources to plant the painting. If Dean was sure of anything, he was sure of that.

He felt Y/N tug at his arm at the entrance to the hallway, halting mid-step. He glanced at her. Her pupils were wide and her lips were parted, ragged breaths escaping. “I’ve got it from here,” he told her, his hand lingering on her arm for a beat before releasing her and leaving her standing next to her dog.

Dean made his way down the hallway, officers making room for him like he was Moses splitting the Red Sea. He walked until he saw it, the painting. He settled on her eyes in the painting, delicate, detailed, but expressionless. They were missing the light that made Y/N Y/N, but it captured her likeness well enough.

He’d seen them before, of course. The paintings were famous. He thought back to the twenty-three year old girl who blushed in embarrassment the first time she saw them hanging on a wall. Dean didn’t look at them for her body, he knew it didn’t belong to her. He looked at the painting with the eyes of a detective. It was a piece of the bigger puzzle, just another clue. He leaned in closer to the painting and took a large inhale through his nose. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back any kind of reaction. He knew she was still watching him. They all were.

“Tape off the house,” he instructed, looking back to the techs and officers. I want this entire place looked over. Leave no stone unturned. I mean it. I trust you’ll secure the space, and then leave it to us. My team will be taking over from here out. Johnson,” he said, turning to an officer that he recognized. “Call the FBI field office and let them know the details and that I said I'm taking the case.” His gaze turned from the officers to Y/N. “Let’s get you some clothes. I don’t think you’ll be sleeping here tonight.”

“You read my mind.”

****

They sat at a table on the patio of a coffee shop, Castiel sleeping at Y/N’s feet. She watched Dean blow on his coffee. He looked good if she was paying attention. His strong jaw was speckled with light hairs, his full lips were pursed, blowing on his coffee to cool it enough to drink. He held the mug in large calloused hands. His moss green eyes flickered to her, catching her staring, and she suddenly felt unbelievably vulnerable.

“So, you’re a PI, huh?” He asked, his voice rougher than she remembered it to be.

Y/N shook her head. “Not frequently.”

“Why not?”

She held her own mug between her hands, tapping the lip with her index finger. “There weren’t enough wins. I couldn’t save…” Her voice trailed off and she sighed. “Well, you know what it’s like. So I opened a self defense gym. Preventative measures instead of cleaning up the messes after the fact. I’ll take special cases, and I consult every now and then. They say I have a special eye for it.”

“I suspect you do.”

“What about you, Dean?” She looked back to him, through the steam on her cup. It was the transitional time in Massachusetts when the summer shifted to autumn, and the chill nipped at her ears. “Where have you been the last ten years?” She wasn’t meaning to sound so accusatory, but that’s how it came out - pointed and full of resentment.

Silence settled between them, heavy and pressured. He cleared his throat and placed his mug down. “After everything that happened I was approached to be a part of a tactical team with the military. I didn’t feel I could decline.” Her eyebrow shot up in surprise. “I joined the Marines. I’d always thought about it after high school, it’s what my father did… and after everything that happened... I needed a change.” She watched his fast twist in itself, his lips curl and his eyes drop back to his coffee. He felt guilty for being messed up. She wanted to reach out to him and take his hand in hers to comfort him for that.

“You still answered my call… on the line that you gave me that long ago. Your work line.”

“I never got rid of it.” His eyes flickered up as he gazed at her through long dark eyelashes.

“Why?”

He chuckled low and shook his head. “It sounds insane.”

“I’ve lived insane. Try me.”

“I worried that this would happen… that someday you’d call. Every time I went to cancel it, every year that went by, I just sat in my car in the parking lot and never went in to do it. Couldn’t risk it.”

“This was your case… the one that changed you.”

He grunted, leaning back in his chair. “You sound like you’re saying from experience.”

“Well, it changed me too,” she said with a mischievous grin. His thick eyebrows shot up in surprise. She unsettled people frequently, especially when they knew her past.

“Of course.”

“Are you still in the marines?”

“Once you become one, you’re always a jarhead.” He grinned at her, a dimple pressing into his cheek. “But no, I’ve been out for two years. I got pulled back into the Bureau. They wanted me, begged me to do it.” He sighed.

“You don’t want it?”

Dean’s eyes locked with hers. “It’s been a lot of paper work. Never much wanted a desk job.”

“You’re not at a desk now, agent,” she challenged.

He grinned at her. “When a beautiful woman calls me I’m duty bound to come to her.”

She smiled and peeled her eyes from his. The banter was flirty, light, but it was a Band-Aid taped over a wound that was too close to bursting. “I’m glad you answered,” Y/N said quietly, Castiel nudging her leg with his nose. “It was instinct to call you the second I saw the painting.”

A jolt ran through her as he took her hand in his. He squeezed it gently, cradling it with care. “Y/N…”

She pulled her hand out of his and wrapped it around her mug instead, sipping her coffee. “I can’t.”

“Of course.” He nodded with an understanding that felt unfair, unwarranted.

“Do you think it’s him?” She asked, almost blurting out the question that was sitting on her tongue from the moment she saw Dean again.

Dean sighed heavily and clasped his hands together. “I don’t see how it can be. He’s been in jail for a decade, Y/N.”

“Are you sure?” Her eyes stung as fear pressed insistently against her chest preventing her from taking a full, deep breath. She didn’t think it was possible to live this way anymore, she didn’t think she had to. It was like for the first time she’d thought she could breathe easily again, just to get the breath knocked out of her in one swift kick to her stomach.

“As sure as I can be, but not sure enough to not check into it. Never sure enough to not check into it.” He leaned forward, his green eyes intense. “I’ll figure this out. I can promise you that.”

“I don’t know who else would do this.”

“Has he contacted you?”

“Not in years. He gave up eventually when I wouldn’t take his calls or write him back.”

“He wrote to you?”

“Every day for the first year. He’d send me drawings…” She tightened her grip on her mug, her knuckles whitening as a chill seemed to crawl up her spine. “I stopped opening them after the first week.”

“Do you still have them?” Dean asked slowly, carefully.

Y/N was familiar with people walking on eggshells around her. It was no real surprise that Dean would do the same. He was cautious, calculated, a professional. She wetted her bottom lip with her tongue, a nervous habit to keep her from picking at the dry skin. He made her nervous. The situation made her skin itch beneath her clothes, heat rising up the back of her neck. “Yes. They’re locked in a drawer. I’ve thought about burning them a thousand times but I just…”

“Can’t bring yourself to?”

She nodded. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m punishing myself for not realizing. Or maybe it’s a reminder to never let it happen again.”

“I’d like to see them.”

She sat up a little straighter in her seat, her jaw tightening in an expression that she was sure resembled a grimace. “They’re personal.”

“I suspect they are.”

“What do you think you’ll learn from them?”

“I don’t know, which is why I need to examine them. I need you to trust me…”

“I trust you, Dean. I think you should know that by now.”

10 years ago

“It’s inappropriate, Agent Winchester! I gave you orders to wait. She needed to be evaluated, but you went in anyway and now… ” Captain McLeod was pissed, to put it mildly. Her nostrils flared and her eyebrows furrowed as she looked up at him. For such a small woman she was terrifying, and in any other circumstance he would’ve rolled over and played dead like she obviously wanted him to. But this wasn’t any circumstance.

“She's imprinted. I know that’s what the psychologist said. She trusts me. Only me.”

“You can't be her connection, Dean.”

“I have to be. We can’t take another thing from her. I can’t abandon her after everything she’s been through.”

“You aren’t trained in psychology,” she hissed.

“I’m taking pointers from the hospital psychologist. I‘ll take her lead. I’ll tread lightly. Come on, Rowena. This is the right thing and you know it.”

“She’s having a mental break,” his captain said, her voice low. She grasped his shoulder. “I don’t want you to get too attached to someone so unstable.”

He nodded, trying to keep his expression neutral, because if he was honest with himself he would have to admit that he was already attached. How could he not be? “I’ve got this. You can go, I’ll report on what I find.”

She looked at Dean suspiciously, but finally nodded with a sigh. She had no choice but to trust him, and that fact was to his advantage. He watched her leave, before quickly entering Y/N’s hospital room again.

The hospital room was bright, the blinds raised and the light bleeding in. She looked absolutely exhausted, deep purple half moons rested under her eyes. Her hair was freshly brushed, pushed behind her ears, and down. The monitors beep steadily, showing her heartbeat, blood pressure and a dozen other numbers that he couldn’t begin to decipher. The top of the bed was raised allowing her to sit up a bit, and her bandaged arms rested on her lap.

“Dean,” Y/N said breathlessly as her tired green eyes caught his. He could tell even from where he stood in the doorway that her eyes were more grey than green from her exhaustion.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

“I thought you left.”

“I told you I wouldn’t.”

Her eyes flickered down to her hands where she picked at her nails. “I know you did.”

“I won’t leave you. You can trust me,” he promised, walking to her. He sat in the chair next to her and pulled it close to her bed. She looked so small and fragile in that bed. Seeing photographs of her before the incident was jarring, she looked like a completely different person.

“Okay,” Y/N said, her voice weak. She nodded and sucked in her breath.

“You can talk to me if you need to.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Don’t feel pressured to talk.”

“You’re sending mixed signals, Agent.” She smiled then, it was weak but the spark in her eye wasn’t something he could ignore.

“Yeah, most of my dates say that.”

“Is this a date?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“What? No - of course not. I…”

It sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined, and fuck, he hadn’t expected it to come as soon as it did. She was laughing. “Relax, Agent.” She exhaled, trying to catch her breath. “I was kidding.”

“Sure, of course you were.” His back relaxed again. He felt tightly wound, stressed. He hadn’t been able to truly relax over the last twenty-four hours. Pressure was higher than ever and things hadn’t gotten much better. No one was convinced it was over, himself included. He would have to get some information out of Y/N eventually, but he wanted to tread lightly after all she had been through. Kindness was the least that she deserved.

“It’s over, Dean.” She looked like she was reassuring him. “Right?” Her eyes met him with fear and intensity behind the brave face she was putting up.

“I don’t want to upset you,” he said carefully.

“I’m already upset. Just spit it out already. You look like you’ve sat on a thumbtack.”

Dean wanted to laugh at her image of him, but there wasn’t much to laugh about. He hated this part of his job. Y/N had been smiling a moment before, she felt safe and that wasn’t something that should be squandered or minimalized. It was a big thing. After he told her what he had to say, she wouldn’t feel safe. Not really. “We think there may be more.” ------ Chapter Three Read on A03 Here Tag List:

@lyarr24

@dean-winchesters-bacon

@waywardbaby

@akshi8278

@sexyvixen7

@deanwanddamons

@siospins

@beanie-beebo

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husbandograveyard · 4 years ago

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Wootwoot! We made it you guys! May 4th is my one-year anniversary on Tumblr. With some ups and downs and over 300 requests written, I'm gonna go ahead and say it was a successful year!

Monday until next Sunday I will do another Mini HC event, like we did for valentine! Open for all my fandoms, with mystery prompts to choose from.

Until then, I wanted to do a sleepover event. Unlimited asks and interactions for the weekend cause I feel like I haven't talked to a lot of you in a long while!

You can send me any classic sleepover question

Kiss, marry, kill

Would you rather

Top 3/5/10...

Questions about me

Questions about my anime, writings...

Theories (keep em spoiler free though!)

For this event, I will engage in a little bit of selfship talk if anyone were to be interested. Ask me about my F/o's and tell me about yours! Dynamics, habits... anything!

Questions about OCs

If you need some inspiration, I have included a couple of lists below the cut with questions id be 100% okay with.

Also, if you just want to chat, tell me about your week, a funny thing that happened to you, or a fun fact (i love fun facts especially if it's creepy or an animal fact)... A N Y T H I N G is welcome! There is no limit to your asks, spam me if you want! ♡

Look forward to talking to you guys!

Ps, I'll tag these #1yearSleepover if you want to block something against spam

Questions for OCs - Specify which one! Taken from here

1. How many different places have they lived?

2. What is their dream vacation?

3. What is their favorite color?

4. What is their favorite book?

5. Have they ever cheated on anyone before?

6. Have they ever been cheated on?

7. How many partners have they had?

8. What is their favorite food?

9. Are they a liar? Are they good at lying?

10. Introvert or Extrovert?

11. Have they ever been arrested and why?

12. Who would they sacrifice their life for?

13. What are their spending habits?

14. Do they like hot or cold temperatures better?

15. Are they religious?

16. If they could describe themself in one sentence, what would they say?

17. Do they have any overused catchphrases?

18. What makes them laugh?

19. Have they ever lost anyone close to them? How did it affect them?

20. Do they have a fast reaction time, or slow?

21. How do they react to praise?

22. How do they react to criticism?

23. Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy?

24. What are their biggest pet peeves?

25. Do they have any type of handicaps? How do they manage them?

Other ask game - taken from here

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

6: do you keep plants?

7: do you name your plants?

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

12: what’s your favorite planet?

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

20: what’s your favorite eye color?

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

22: are you a morning person?

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

28: sunrise or sunset?

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

33: what’s your fave pastry?

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

39: what color do you wear the most?

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

59: what’s your favorite myth?

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

68: what’s winter like where you live?

69: what are your favorite board games?

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

73: what are some of your worst habits?

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

75: tell us about your pets!

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

82: are/were you good in school?

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

89: are you close to your parents?

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

#sleepover #aksgames #1YearSleepover #scheduled post

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suknas · 4 years ago

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First Line Tag Game II

Tagged by @ruluxe (who dared to say that I have fanfics that I'm "holdin out on us" -- it is true tho lol)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening lines then tag 10 of your favorite authors.

Tagging: Everyone who wants to do this! (I'm not sure which authors are still active here ;-;)

Now we all know how inconsistent I am. But I do like starting with what's going on with the characters/where they are... Don't I? Well I decided to start with the most recent published ones, descending to the first ones published (skipping some), and finally some of my WIP/"One day I will finish" fanfics.

Quick fun fact: I didn't remember writing most of those fanfics lol

So here we go!!!! (it's gonna be a bumpy ride)

1. Into the Storm [GrimmIchi]: The lightning and thundering's brightness and strong noises were slicing the dark-blue sky of a lonely and sleepless night. A storm was coming. The heavy rain and gusts of wind were not the only thing rapidly creeping through the night. Kurosaki Ichigo could sense something else approaching along with the dark clouds and the pouring rain that now was hitting his window. [2021 (but the draft was from 2017 maybe), Bleach]

2. Ascension [AoKaga]: Light appeared in the darkness and soon darkness became insignificant before the beauty and immensity of the bright light surrounding a tall and masculine figure. He walked calmly through the uncertain route that many others once also stepped into it. He had a goal. The time to seek the one whom he had once shared many memories with, good and bad. The one person whom he had loved immensely but had never gotten to experience that feeling truly and at its fullest. The time had finally come. [2021 (again the draft was probably from 2016), Kuroko no Basket]

3. The One Where Prompto Does Not Want To Be In The Middle [Gladios x Prompto x Noctis x Ignis]: Sleeping in the camping tent was always a challenge in Prompto’s opinion. It is not as if he does not like camping, it was pretty nice being able to sit under the stars and gaze them, it was relaxing. Sometimes Noctis would sit behind him, embracing him in a warm hug. They would spend a long time chatting and exchanging affectionate touches until both of them felt like sleeping. Other times Gladio would join him, and the shield would let the blond lay his head on his lap. More often than not Prompto ended up sleeping while feeling his hair being played by dexterous and caring fingers. And whenever Ignis had time to spare, he would also join him after cleaning the mess they did during dinner. [2020 (again the draft was maybe from 2017), Final Fantasy XV]

4. The Owl Who Got Caught [KuroTsuki + Bokuto]: The third day of the training camp was finally over. Soon, everybody was running to the school cafeteria to grab something to eat. In the meantime, while nobody was looking, Kuroo took the opportunity to take Tsukishima’s hand, guiding him to the room that the Nekoma team was sharing; closing the door right after they entered. Nekoma and Karasuno’s middle blockers became closer ever since their first practice game, now they were spending more time together, and their relationship had an unexpected development. [2020 (draft probably from 2017), Haikyuu]

5. A Boyfriend Text [KuroTsuki]: Laying in his bed with a smile on the lips Kuroo was texting his sweet strawberry shortcake boyfriend. Eyes rapt, staring at the bright screen in the dark room; he was feeling anxious if his stupid smile and trembling fingers were any indicator.

TETSUROU: Wanna come over this weekend?

It had been some weeks since they had the opportunity to meet; school and volleyball practice were mostly the reason for their inevitable long separation. Week after week something "magically" came up in their agendas, but Kuroo was hopeful, however, that maybe this time their schedules would finally allow them to meet. [2020, Haikyuu]

6. Domestic Bliss [KiriBaku]: Sitting comfortably on the couch, Kirishima and Bakugou were finally spending some time together after a rough week. It was one of those rare days where both could enjoy a peaceful and uneventful afternoon. To say that both men were lazily on the couch doing absolutely nothing productive was not very accurate. Bakugou was doing something with his spear time, he was reading a book. By his focused attention on the pages, anyone could tell that he was enjoying his reading and only someone stupid would dare to bother him. [2017, Boku no Hero Academia]

7. Getting Together [KiriBaku]: “Let’s grab something to eat!” The blonde shouted after stretching his arms above his head. Bakugou’s red eyes fixed on the figure of Kirishima, who was sitting comfortably in bed with his back against the headboard.The redhead’s own red eyes snapped at the figure on the chair, eyeing him from head to toe; he spaced out in no second. Kirishima wanted to touch those damn nice muscled arms, which were slowly lowered down while his hands were placed on his toned thighs. Kirishima couldn’t help himself and started to imagine Bakugou’s whole body underneath him wrapping his body with those strong legs and arms. [2017, Boku no Hero Academia]

8. AoKaga short stories collection [AoKaga]: The atmosphere of the place was hot and heavy. However, because of that, the two teens lying down on the bed were more connected than ever. Their bare bodies were united white skin with dark skin. Their breaths were out of rhythm and their hands slid skillfully on each other’s bodies. The movements were synchronized and intense. The pleasurable moans and whispers echoed in the dark room, making the place even more delightful for both of them. [2017 - Short Story #4, Kuroko no Basket]

9. It's Picture Time! [Pomptis]: In the Regalia, Prompto and Ignis were heading to the nearest outpost from their camping spot to get some supplies for the night. The sun on the horizon was almost hiding behind the tree path by Prompto’s right side, the scenery formed by dim light and shadowy dark spots caught Prompto’s eyes.“Wow! Look at the light, it’s amazing!” the blond shouted, “Can’t we stop just for a bit?” Prompto was thrilled by the idea of adding more photos to his portfolio. [2017, Final Fantasy XV]

10. That Side of You [MiSawa]: Miyuki was laying in the bed on his back, eyes glassy, hands shaking and skin hot. The body above his was driving him to a place where it was absolute bliss and pleasure. Hips moved together, swinging with movements that were making Miyuki moans the pitcher’s name in a short and breathless tone.“Sa-wamura– Aah! Do that again,” his voice low and hoarse made the order sound weak, and his usual snarky tone was lost a long time ago in some part of his foggy mind. [2016, Diamond no Ace]

11. Runaround [Sterek]: Everything was set neatly on the kitchen table. Stiles was going to be there soon, so Derek had already prepared every single book and even snacks that they may need for their studying.It wasn't new that both of them were hanging out for studying matters. Actually, Derek had come up with the idea first, mainly because he was having some issues involving fast heartbeats and some inconvenient hard-ons whenever Stiles was around. He had a ridiculous crush on his friend. However, the smart geek boy didn't have to know about that. [2016, Teen Wolf]

12. Eavesdropping [MiSawa]: Sawamura’s suspicions must be right for his sake. Otherwise, Miyuki would make sure his so careless kouhai would pay a high price for being so noisy about Kuramochi and Ryou-senpai making out when no one was seeing. The closed and almost claustrophobic locker didn’t have enough space to move around, but he and Sawamura managed to fit in somehow. So what? They were eavesdropping, and he still couldn’t say that he was regretting this. [2016, Diamond no Ace]

13. Sterek Short Stories Collection [Sterek]: Stiles had broken up with his last boyfriend a couple of months ago. Or it was what he usually says to Scott when his best friend asks him why he isn’t over his past relationship. Because according to Scott, it’s been a year and a half since Stiles had parted ways with, at the time, his other half. And right now it was one of those times.“You should move on. I haven't seen you with no one since then. What about Danny? Last night I saw him flirting with you, and when I looked again you were nowhere to be found, but Danny was still there drinking alone. And let not forget your grumpy humor because your sex life sucks. It's getting old bro.” [2015 - Short Story #3, Teen Wolf]

14. Urge [AoKaga]: The small public bathroom stall in that bar hadn't been made for sure to accommodate two giants, dumbasses, and impulsive basketball players. Nevertheless, this fact wasn’t that important for the Too player neither to the Seirin player. Kagami was already pressing his body against Aomine’s, who was stuck between the wall and Kagami while his mouth was being devoured by the other’s tongue. Both were fighting into that kiss as if there was no tomorrow. Their hands were traveling quickly by each other’s body, and quickly they were undoing their pants’ zippers and buttons. Their shirts were all messy, as well as their hair. Their breaths were heavy, and the kisses now were directed to their necks, sucking and biting the skin exposed. Soft moans could be heard, but not loud enough to echo in the bathroom. [2013, Kuroko no Basket]

15. After Dancing Lessons [AoKaga]: The music was set up, and his hips started to move, his steps were guiding him to where a dark skinned guy was sat on a chair. The dancer's eyes were fixed in front of him. The watcher's eyes sparkled with excitement when the other sat on his lap, one leg on each side of his body, and kissed his cheeks along to his lips and chin, returning the same way till his ear, biting there slightly. The dancer felt the other hands trying to take his clothes off and immediately stood up, preventing to have those hands on his body so easily. [2013, Kuroko no Basket]

16. Sleep Well [ZoSan]: The night was agitated on board of the Sunny and lots of dirty dishes were pilled up on a corner of the sink. Sanji didn't have this time someone to help him to clean everything up. 'Those lazy bastards!' He frowned, 'all right! Let’s put all these things in their right place!' And with that thought, Sanji started the tiring process of doing all the dishes. On the bright side, if he was the one doing it everything would be spot on in no time. [2013, One Piece]

17. Possessive Lover [KidLaw / LawLu]: The bell indicating the change of periods rang and the students gradually began to leave one room to proceed to another. In the middle of changing classrooms, some students went to a quick trip to the bathroom, which was where that a spiky redhead boy was heading to. He had a dangerous gaze gleaming in his golden eyes; he had quite a threatening presence, and his looks did not lie about his fiery and explosive personality. Any sane person would prefer to avoid crossing paths with him or to even look the boy in the eyes. [2012, One Piece]

18. English Lesson [WIP, AoKaga]: The room was a mess. There were a lot of magazines, books, sheets, some snacks, three soda bottles, two hoodies and two pairs of sneakers all thrown on the floor. Sitting side by side, in front of the center table with notebooks and pens in hands were Kagami and Aomine. They had that idea of starting to study at each other’s places every Thursday night after their club activities. It was not like they liked to take a book, read it and think about the subject, the matter here was way bigger than just casual study. Their grades were in the red mark, which meant that they needed to rise them at least not to get scolded and taken off the basketball team. This time around Kagami was helping Aomine with his English study. The redhead was doing his best to try to explain, but he wasn’t that good at teaching those so detailed grammatical things… [unknown year - present, Kuroko no Basket]

19. High heels [WIP, KuroTsuki]: Tsukishima walked all proud on a black suit, white button-up shirt, grey tie and black stilettos in the room. Kuroo was watching his slow movements with a fierce look from the bed, where he was sat with his hands tied to the headboard by a soft cloth. Tsukishima stopped at the bed foot, looking straight at Kuroo. Ever so slowly, Tsukishima’s hands loosened the tie around his neck, the button-up shirt was having his buttons calmly undone, soon the shirt was wide open reviling Tsukishima's snow-white skin for Kuroo’s delight. [unknown year - present, Haikyuu]

20. Christmas thing / The untitled fanfic [WIP, AoKaga]: It was Christmas the snow was falling outside, many sparkle lights, so many decorations everywhere, people receiving and giving presents, eating together and singing songs. A day to celebrate and stay with family and friends. A day full of joy and happiness.At Kagami's house every single tradition was made. Kagami invited the Seirin basketball team to celebrate, but it ended up with some unexpected guests, the self-invited guests were some of Touou basketball team. And of course, Aomine Daiki was there. The redhead didn't even want to know how Aomine had found out about his little party. He'd bet that Kuroko had told something to Momoi and she kindly invited Aomine and the rest of the troupe. [unknown year - present, Kuroko no Basket]

#ruluxe #tag game #Kuroos got tagged #that was fun and I'm also embarrassed that I wrote some of these lol #aokaga #kurotsuki #grimmichi #sterek #misawa #kiribaku #zosan #lawlu #kidlaw #kuroosden #Kuroos writing again

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mental-health-advice · 3 years ago

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My brother has struggled with drug addiction for a long time and is finally committed to getting clean. He has unmedicated ADHD (I also have ADHD, so I understand those struggles really well), He has a job and a bank account but he is homeless. A couple weeks ago, my roommates and I invited him to live with us until he saved enough money to rent a place on his own, we felt like we couldn't let someone live on the streets and I'm the only member of my family that believes he can recover and will give him a chance. For some background, he is two years older than me and I am a trans man, only recently coming out to him just before we let him move in. He is accepting and respectful but he isn't really doing a great job calling me the right name and pronouns, going back and forth between my dead name and incorrect pronouns. We live about 2 hours away from where he did and picked him up and took him to our apartment. He is also in an extremely toxic relationship with a girl and he won't let go of it.

When we first let him stay, it was only for about 2 days before he wanted to go back to our hometown because he had a very secured chance of getting an apartment there, we took him back and dropped him off (another 2 and a half hour drive for us) and he seemed really hopeful and excited.

Today, a couple weeks later, I asked if he had gotten moved into the apartment. He has been giving me updates and it seemed like he was going to get it. I guess something happened with his girlfriend and he didn't get the apartment. He still has nowhere to stay, but I'm honestly hesitant to let him come back here.

It was weird, I felt like I couldn't be myself in my own home when he was there, which I know won't be good for my mental health in the long term of him staying here to save up money for his own place. Three of us live in a 2 bedroom 1 bath apartment that is already quite small, and he makes a fourth person, making it pretty cramped and so we don't really have a living room to hang out in anymore. In the two days he was here he helped clean a lot but also showed disregard for my roommates boundaries. We got him his own food the first night he was here, and even though I told him not to he still ate their food along with his own. My roommate also has an Xbox that i told him not to get on without asking them first, but when we got back from classes one day he had started downloading a game on it without asking.

It's really frustrating to have your boundaries violated so quickly, and it's really embarrassing for me that my grown man brother is behaving like that. My roommates are kind enough to agree to let my brother stay with us despite his history, and his behavior in those 2 days made me feel so guilty and bad, like this is how they're repaid for their kindness and it has only been 2 days.

On top of all of this, my roommates and I all share one car that is on its very last legs. We can barely drive to where we work which isn't even 10 minutes away without the car overheating and having to pull over. Which just means we wouldn't be able to drive him anywhere, and I don't know how he could get to and from work here.

I just don't know what to do. I would feel horrible making my brother remain homeless when I had been willing to give him a place to stay so recently, and I have no idea how I would explain that to him. Even if we set really strict boundaries and he respected them, I know I would still feel so odd having him around in my new life after moving away from one where I couldn't be myself. It would make it feel like I wasn't in my own home, and for the sake of my own mental health I don't know if I can sacrifice that.

I'm sorry that this is so long, I just don't have anyone else to ask advice on the subject and have no clue what to do. Thanks for your help:)

Hey there,

I think it was really great of you for allowing your older brother to stay with you for those two days but I am so sorry that he overstepped boundaries and could not appreciate and accept that you are trans and didn’t call you by your name or by your correct pronouns. This must have been so frustrating!

I know you feel somewhat obligated to take your brother back in and that your roommates are also OK with this, you really have to put yourself first though and do what is best for you! And if this means telling him no to coming to stay with you and your roommates again then maybe this is just something you have to do. I know that if you choose to not take your brother in again that this will be a hard conversation to have with him, but maybe try and stay to the points of why you don’t think it will work out like

The fact he didn’t respect and use your pronouns correctly

He ate your other roommates food despite you going out of your way to purchase food for himself

He had total disregard to other boundaries like using one of your roommates xbox without consent

That it would be really cramped and just not ideal for an ongoing place for him to stay for however long it takes him to save enough money to get a place of his own

I am wondering also if you guys have any shelters or that which he could possibly stay at or rescue/ emergency housing until he is able to get back on his feet? I think that this is something really worth considering and especially as it will make you feel good for still helping him out in some way but for it not to affect your mental health directly like it may if he was to stay at your place again! Something to think about anyway and maybe look into and investigate further!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are otherwise going well!

Take care,

Lauren

#mha-lauren #advice #advice blog #mental health advice #anonymous #older brother #housing

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neo-culture-mafia · 4 years ago

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IV. Sorry, My Dear

⚠️⚠️TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️⚠️

The following story contains themes of suicidal thoughts and addiction. Please do not read if you find these themes triggering in any way. Read this post before reading this piece of FICTION

Have you heard the story of the guy,

Who decided not to die?

"Another day at the office...another day in hell." Jae mumbled to himself. The black lettering seemed never ending as he moved page after page.

Everyone was long gone and he was left with his thoughts that reflected the current state of his desk: scattered and full on unwanted words.

"Come on, Jae. Let's go get drinks with Boss." Jae had mimicked the voices of the other associates that worked in the office today. "No. I'm good. Got to finish this work. Beep-boop-boop." He moved his arms in a robot-like fashion.

"Look at me. Working me life away. Jaehyun. That's my name." He moved the papers in random places. This would be Jae's 4th breakdown this week where he needed to tell himself to hold on until tomorrow.

Johnnny looked on in concern from behind the entrance wall. "No good, Jaehyun. Don't wear it out." Jae's hands waves over his head in a dramatic fashion as he pushed himself around in his wheeled office chair.

It wasn't until Johnny saw Jae's hands form into a gun shape that he intervened in the middle of his best friend's scary emotional outburst.

"Jae! There you are!" He rushed over and punched his friend's arm. The look in Jaehyun's eyes made Johnny uneasy. It looked like he had been caught which made him break more. "You almost finished? I wanted to catch a movie with you and maybe have a hangout night," Jae was taken aback by the energy outburst at 2 am.

He could only look at Johnny's excited face from where he sat in his chair, strands of hair obstructing only pieces of his vision. "I got the new Call of Duty and PubG for the console." Johnny's hands rummaged in his pockets till he pulled out his phone, his eyebrows wiggling fiercely. "It's only...2:17. We got all the time in the world."

Johnny picked up Jae's suit jacket that was thrown over the cubicle wall and the younger boy's heavy bag. "I'll drive." Johnny pulled Jae up and turned off his lamp.

They were in the darkness of the office and Jae was still shocked that he was caught before he got worse.

"What do you wanna eat? Steak? McDonald's? Junk food?" Johnny's rambling was tuned out of Jae's mind. He followed the taller man willingly down and out of the office building and to his familiar car.

"Uh...doesn't matter." Was the first thing that came out of Jaehyun's mouth. "Then we'll get everything." Johnny's laugh made Jae's heart swell with hope for the first time in weeks.

'Maybe next time,' he thought, 'I'll hang out with Johnny one last time.'

The car ride was filled with laughter and being in the cold air surrounding the both of them.

Johnny still wonders to this day what would've happened if he didn't walk in the time he did. He had been called to pick up the paperwork from Jae's desk but was met with a sad reality.

Jaehyun wanted to escape reality.

Just kill me in my sleep,

Smother me with pillows and kindness, in which I have never seen

This was it...this was the day. He's written the letters and found a place to go calmly. He was in a euphoric sense that nothing really mattered anymore.

He had been on cloud 9 all week as he's happily been overworked and no one ever asked how he had been doing.

Right now, he was just driving. Driving to take in his home city one last time.

The sun was setting when he came to Han River Park. The clusters of happy people congregated in small bursts of happiness and 'its okay' and 'everything will be alright's.

He parked and stood at the grass's edge. He took deep breaths as the air swept across his body calmly. "Everything is so beautiful." He whispered to himself as he watched the birds dance across the water with such grace.

The lump in his throat that made it home was beginning to ache. Yet, he swallowed his pride and continued looking over the people who would continue their own story's even after his had reached the end. The credits would roll and everyone would walk away from the theater without a second thought.

"I mean. I get that's it's pretty. But I haven't seen someone cry at the scenery since my last romance movie." He was snapped out of reality to see a girl standing next to him.

"Excuse me?" Was all he could manage to get out.

You chuckled, sticking your hand out. "Y/n." You introduced yourself and he was trying to not shake your hand, look the other way, and leave without another word being exchanged.

"Jaehyun." His actions spoke for him as he reached his hand out to meet yours. Your hand was soft and warm in his. A warmness and calm he hasn't felt in a while.

"I'm gonna go get some ice cream. Wanna come?" You barely knew him and we're asking him to accompany you to a sweet treat. "You don't know me." Jae got defensive, his arms crossing over his chest.

"I could be a murderer and you invited me for ice cream?" His questions had your face turn up. "Well I'm sure that murderers like ice cream too. So let's go." You grabbed his arm and pulled him down the long stretch of concrete. You walked and tried to match your steps with his long strides. Your arm cutely wrapped around his as you walked.

"So tell me about yourself, Mr. Jaehyun."

He figured living was just easier than falling really high

"We need to clean." You whined while rolling around in the vast bed full of messed up sheets and a relaxing Jaehyun. "Not now. I just wanna cuddle." He grabbed your body and held you close.

"No. We've been cuddling all day. We need to clean." You got up and pulling at his hands. "You can clean the closet and I can clean the rest of the room. Then cuddles." You reasoned and he groaned as he got up, giving into your wishes.

"Fine." He automatically sat on the ground and opened your shared closet doors.

"I'll be tidying up around here." You ruffled his hair and kissed the top of his head sweetly. "If you need anything just shout." He called as you exited the room to probably start on the kitchen.

Box after box of paperwork and more paperwork from the last 10 years of working in his like of work.

Your singing could be heard through your house as you comedically sang some of the greatest hits. His laughter broke through the apartment when your own voice shook with laughs.

He came upon some photo books with Polaroids of you and him. The last 2 years had been lived in a heaven like state. He hadn't touched alcohol and drugs like he was earlier in his life...before you changed him.

His physical and mental growth were apparent in the pictures as he flipped through the pages. Your hand drawn hearts and small journal entries under some photos had his heart beating rapidly with joy.

He put the book next to his side to look at later with you. His hand came across an unmarked cardboard photo box that had a thin layer of dust on it.

He jiggled the lid off and was met with envelopes. The letters. His notes to his bosses and his friends apologizing for what he was about to do.

Apologizing for the mess they were going to have to clean up in his apartment and in the office where his files would never be filed. Apologizing for giving up so easily and not serving out the rest of his life like he had sworn. Apologizing for not being strong enough to ask for help when he really tried to make it obvious. Apologizing to whoever had to find him after it was all said and done.

Apologizing for not saying goodbye.

"Hey. Do we have any tile cle- oooo letters. Who are they to?" Your voice had made Jae jump like when Johnny caught him that dark night in the office. Like he was caught doing and thinking stuff he shouldn't be.

"No one. Me. In 50 years. Y'know," he shrugged, tossing them back in the box and throwing them in the closet and standing up quickly, "time capsule thing me and the guys did." He shrugged it off and you could only nod.

"Well that's cool. Can't wait to see how you've grown." Your smile had his own lips mimicking in want. Wanting to have your blissful ignorance of what those letters really were.

"Oh yeah. Do we have any more tile cleaner?" You asked and he lead you out to the closet where he scowered the top shelves in search for the cleaning supply.

"You can have it. For a kiss." He held it above his head. You waste no time in kissing his cheek and pulling on his arm till you grabbed the cleaner and ran. His laughs chased your own as you both wrestled for a while.

Both of you laid on the living room carpet, just enjoying the close presence.

His heart was at peace.

I'm okay,

I feel a little bit sick

You had began to notice how Jae had been getting more dull. A year had passed since the night you pointed out the letters. It began to go all down hill from there.

He gave you the same love and affection he usually did, but his eyes held no emotion to big events outside. Alcohol had started to replace meals and sleep.

"Jae you need to eat." You laid a hand on his shoulder softly. "I'm actually going to go grab a drink with some of the boys." And like that. He was out of the apartment. Yet, everytime he came stumbling in the front door with a stench that could repel nuclear waste, you nurses him into bed. Setting an aspirin and water next to his head. Most nights didn't wrap up until 4 am when you knew he was home safe.

You slept with your arms wrapped strongly around his body, afraid he would try to get up and leave to drink again without you noticing.

Mornings would be a rough time as you awoke to a sick Jaehyun who couldn't tell left from right. You were there were comforting words and endless services if bet only asked.

His guilt ate at his chest till there was a free falling feeling that would cease when he took his first shot.

He knew he was getting bad again. He knew he needed to get help but everytime he woke up to face an aspirin and a cool glass of water, the guilt made him drink even more the next night.

He sometimes wished you would leave him to make this easier on you. He wished you would fall out of love and go to bed before he got home.

He wished you didn't introduce yourself in the first place.

But have you heard,

The story of the guy who decided not to die?

Jaehyun got clean again. He started being more present in reality and eventually returned to normal. Sometimes he did get carried away with the alcohol but you were there to help him put down the bottle.

He started openly hanging out with his friends in large gatherings where he didn't mind starting the conversation. He got addicted on life again.

You were all out on a big dinner. You and the other women of the mafia men gathered in the social room while Jae and his closest friends talked and joked around in the parlor.

"Want another drink?" Mark asked as he nudged Jae's elbow. "No I'm okay. I hit my limit for the night."

His friends were the most supportive people that he originally thought wouldn't be. Once be reached his limit, they all switched to fruity drinks followed by water. "So I need your guys' help with something." Jae smiled, taking the blue chalk and rubbing it on the worn end of the billiard's stick.

"What's up, dude?" Johnny asked and all the boys tuned into Jaehyun and his request. "I want to propose to y/n." He said and the room automatically erupted in shouts and cheers. "Sssshhhh." He tried to shush everyone. They remembered the presence of the women in the building and quickly shut up.

"Y/n said she wanted a wedding in the flower fields about.." Jae recalled the previous conversation he had with you. "2 hours from here?" He said and Hyuck automatically knew which ones he was talking about. "It's going to have to be a spring wedding!" He said excitedly and grabbing a pad of paper and a pen from his pocket.

"Alright, lover boy, spill." He said knocking all of the pool balls out of the way, "hey we were playing!" Doyoung protested and Hyuck could only write down the location of the fields, "I'm helping our brother get a wife. Go play with your balls somewhere else." He back handed which caused the room to erupt in laughter.

"Okay. Now. I'm going to need time to get the catering. I'm thinking pork," Hyuck rambled writing down the possible ideas, "or is she more of a chicken person?" he continued which caused some of the boys to chuckle at the wedding-excited nature no one knew Hyuck possessed in himself.

"Also I need to find a cake. I would make it myself but we all know that these beautiful hands would be wrinkly by the time I'm done icing cake for 500 people-" "500?!" Jae said loudly which caused Johnny to slap a hand over his younger friends mouth. "Well duh. That's a minimum." Donghyuck shook his head, drawing a picture of what the cake needed to look like. "amateur."

"I need to get the ring first." Jae said quietly and Taeyong piped in. "Don't even worry about it. I'll take you in the morning to the jewler's to pick out the bands and diamonds. Maybe you could get an engagement ring with her birth stone then the real ring with yours and your wedding band could have hers." Taeyong started rambling ideas, Hyuck writing lightning speed on the pad of paper.

"I call doing the gifts!" Mark and Jungwoo said at the same time. "I'm nominating myself as the planner." Hyuck said writing the roles down. "I'll get the tuxes for us." Taeil nominated himself for the job with a smile. "We need to get Yuta and the rest of the boys up here!" Doyoung brought up a good point.

"Yuta will just bring baby supplies. We're not telling him until a day before the ceremony." Hyuck pointed at the boys but was met with a hit upside the head from Johnny.

"I have to find out the color palette. I'll go to Renjun and then I'll go to Jaemin for the fireworks- Jisung will be the flower girl." Donghyuck kept rattling off things he needed to get done.

"Thank you for giving me this job. I won't let you down." He finally said, laying a hand on Jaehyun's shoulder.

"Better not. It need to be perfect for her. Perfection deserves perfection." Jae said and some gagged while other coo'd at his unwithering love you for you.

The chatty hustle didn't cease as Johnny patted on Jaehyun's shoulder. "You okay?" Johnny asked with a smile on his face. Jaehyun couldn't keep the smile off of his own face. "Never better. On cloud 9." He said and Johnny's heart eased from the constant fear of Jae not being here the next day. But he didn't need to worry anymore.

"I actually need to ask you." Jae said finally putting the polished stick down on the table. "Will you be my best man?" Johnny's eyes lit up like fireworks as he brought Jae in for a manly yet friendly hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Jaehyun."

I'm enamored with the thought of seeing angels in the sky singing,

Singing, "Everything's alright."

Jaehyun proposed the next week. You both went out to an amazing and fancy moonlit dinner where you both danced and decided to start this new journey together.

Then two days after the proposal, he relapsed the worst he has ever had. Johnny found him in your guys' apartment and immediately called you and everyone who he thought he could help.

It's now present day and you can only look at Jaehyun with guilt in your eyes.

The funeral was held in the flower fields you both planned to get married in. The day was cold and dark but he had never looked so happy in his final resting place. "I'm sorry I couldn't give you the happiness you craved." You kissed his cheek before the lid was finally closed.

Now the marble had been set in place and you were alone again.

"I'm not mad. I'm jus-just so...so sorry." You wept, reaching out for him.

"I read the letter and can only ask. Why?"

The only things he had left was a damn note with the words, 'Sorry, My Dear' signing off the page as if he deemed it enough. As if his love had a capacity limit.

"I'm sorry you-you thought I was going to leave you if you told me you were so un-unhappy with life." Your stuttering didn't come to a stop as you could only imagine tears streaming down his own cheeks wherever he was in the universe. The feeling of being ashamed sent you reeling down where you had to support yourself on your knees.

The silent sobs hurt your chest as you had this free falling feeling in your chest getting more deeper. It was as if someone was pounding your chest with a drum mallot. Your heart was breaking as you felt a hand on your shoulder. Yet, you knew no one was there.

"You promised me forever." Your voice was shaky as you brushed the stray pieces of grass away from the marble in the ground.

'Jaehyun. Found happiness in where ours couldn't reach.'

"And I promise, Jae. I will love you...forever."

"And I'm so proud of you for making it this far." You whispered, fingers tracing his name on the polished marble for what felt like the millionth time.

You laid on the ground next to his resting place and looked into the vast blue sky where you imagined him reaching down to you; his soft voice that he used to sing you to sleep with carrying you with him to where you both could live happily ever after. You lifted your hands up as the tears came down.

"You did well."

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gayoperatorgunclub · 4 years ago

Note

For the ultimate ship meme, Lion and Doc? I'm sorry, I'm LionDoc trash-

it’s all good!! whenever someone sends in an ask, i get an excuse to talk/write about one of my interests! really, it makes me so happy to be able to create content that people hopefully enjoy!! 💝💝💝

General:

How long will they last? - until the end of time, babey

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - it was love at first sight but then they started talking i do think it was some form of ~interest~ in one another at first sight, but then all that drama and lack of communication happened so they didn’t really allow themselves to even dream about the possibility of a relationship. HOWEVER! once lion joined rainbow and they talked their shit out like people who know how to cope, there was a period of a few months that is now referred to as The Four Months of Pining™, during which glaz did a lot of paintings where the subject (who usually bears an uncanny resemblance to doc or lion) is staring at something (or someone) longingly. he calls it his french period. when they finally get together, a LOT of money changes hands. and goes straight into sledge’s pocket (he was the only one who bet that it would take them this long). diana gets a brand new collar (handmade), bed (handmade), dish (handmade), and many new toys (some handmade, some store-bought. sledge’s craftsmanship can only get him so far)

How was their first kiss? - you know how the french are supposed to be super suave and confident??? and how gay people are trying their hardest but they’re just Not Good at things????? (i know these are stereotypes but stay with me). well, with their 5/8 french blood (i hc one of doc’s parents is fully algerian while the other is half french, half algerian), and their 4/4 gay blood, they have an 81.25% chance of success in matters of the heart. sadly, that 18.75% chance of failure came into play during this situation. picture it. doc and lion. romantic, home-cooked dinner. le festin is playing in the background. they’re holding hands over the table. suddenly, doc’s cat goes into labour. all hell breaks loose. lion is getting flashbacks to his son’s birth, so now he’s hyperventilating. doc carries him to the couch and turns on the fan so he can cool off and catch his breath, before carefully moving his cat, Rayie (arabic for gorgeous, pronounced rye-ah) to the living room in his handmade Birthing Box, then grabs a pile of blankets and a heat lamp and situates himself on the ground nearby so he can help her if she needs it. once the kittens are born (they’re twins!! Sadiqi is the boy, and Amirti is the girl!!!) doc makes sure they’re nice and warm and that Rayie is recovering, and gives her pets while she cleans her babies. once the happy family is all settled in for the night, doc walks over to the couch and just. lays down on top of lion. once he’s gotten over the adrenaline of the birth, he takes lion’s face in his hands and says “promise me you’ll be more calm if we ever decide to have kids” and gives him a BIG smooch while lion’s just short-circuiting like “does he know i have a son???? did i forget to mention my son?????? also what about these kittens??? are they not sufficiently childish to count as children????? DOES HE WANT KIDS????? does he want to marry me??????? wait why is he getting so clo-”

Wedding:

Who proposed? - lion. it was the day of their two year anniversary (yes i AM saying they got together the august after outbreak don’t @ me) and they were on vacation at doc’s family’s Secret Beach House. they were vibing on the balcony, watching the sunset, when lion suddenly clears his throat. doc turns to look at him and finds his boyfriend down on one knee, looking like he might flee to Bermuda. he’s reaching for something in his pocket. doc starts laughing. lion, completely misunderstanding his reaction, flushes and stammers out an apology. doc sees this, and immediately stops, though he’s still smiling gleefully as he catches lion by the biceps, then reaches into his own pocket and pulls the ring he was going to give olivier. they exchange rings, giggling like little kids, and spend the rest of the night making out on whatever surfaces are available.

Who is the best man/men? - for lion? montagne. (his son is the ring bearer and doc’s niece is the flower girl). for doc? rook. he’s so happy he gets to participate in his dad’s wedding

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - for lion: finka. for doc: twitch

Who did the most planning? - both of them!! do you know how hard they worked to ensure the ceremony was valid in the eyes of both of their religions

Who stressed the most? - s e e a b o v e

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - lion’s parents. they tried to call him during the reception but doc’s grandma grabbed his phone and started cussing them out, talking about dishonor and how they tried to disown him so they’re not his parents anymore, and besides, his new family absolutely adores him, so really, it’s their loss. once she hangs up, she pulls lion into a hug and he calls her his favorite, if only, grand-mère

Sex:

Who is on top? - who’s topping? lion. but sometimes doc gets bitchy so he gets to set the pace if you know what i mean

Who is the one to instigate things? - they are both lowkey horny 24/7 so 👀👀👀

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now (only because they do get to see each other fairly often. if one goes on a long mission without the other, once they get back they will bump it up to a 10 real quick)

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - idk long enough ig. maybe longer if someone feels they’ve been left ~unsatisfied~ they might go a few more rounds ;))

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - ok it depends on what they’re doing but usually it’s one or two each, but on ~special~ occasions it’s either doc getting edged and denied for hours, OR doc getting forced to come over and over again until he’s begging for something, whether it be more or a goddamn break even he isn’t really sure. either way he’s crying and lion is consistently asking if he needs to safeword and otherwise checking in because they may like it rough but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - unless someone’s hormones and organs get fucked, zero

How many children will they adopt? - probably none?? idk they’ve already got lion’s son and they’re both busy enough with work so

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - NEITHER!!!!! DISGUSTANG!!!!!!!!!

Who is the stricter parent? - god i wanna say both. like lion and his attachment to rules??? but doc and his Mom Friend energy????? but ig lion BUT HE’S NOT STRICT TO THE POINT HE’S A BUZZKILL OR ANYTHING HE’S JUST RESPONSIBLE (he will NOT allow his husband and son to go vandalize the property of some islamaphobic brits, as much as he agrees with the sentiment)

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - doc will only allow vandalism if it’s in the name of righteousness. meaning, he’ll allow their son to spray paint the walls of a goddamn walmart with shit like “eat the rich” and a portrait of robespierre and a guillotine, but it is a HARD NO on defacing places like the library or community center (unless he has a good reason to do so). lion spends his time praying and making sure his son knows which acts of civil disobedience are acceptable and which are distorting their goal

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - doc. he (privately) dreams of retiring (eventually) and living out his lifelong dreams of being a househusband. so

Who is the more loved parent? - SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW GET OUT OF MY HOUSE IM GONNA BEAT YOUR ASS. but ig lion??? BUT ONLY BECAUSE THEIR SON HAS KNOWN HIM LONGER. doc is half Dad and half Cool Uncle Who Gives Me Spray Paint And Tells Me To Make Myself Heard (to clarify, i know doc is a pacifist, but im kinda projecting my own sentiment of “we’ve tried to be peaceful but you wouldn’t give us the time of day. now that we’ve “acted out” we’ve gotten your attention, and rest assured, things are going to change.” he won’t hurt anybody, he’s just tired of having to be everyone’s “muslim friend” and educating people on things they could google themselves)

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - it used to be lion out of necessity, but when people started asking about his “wife” he was really torn between telling them that he and his son’s mother separated, but now he has a partner and his son seems very happy about it. when doc finally attends a meeting with lion, people really struggle to hide their shock. a few clunky but well-meaning “we support you”’s and “we’re sorry for everything that’s been going on”’s later, doc has used his charm to make friends with literally everyone. from then on, he is on pta duty on behalf of lion and his ex

Who cried the most at graduation? - lion! his parents purposefully didn’t show at his, so it’s a big deal for him to show his son just how proud he is. doc tears up a little too, but manages to mostly keep it together so he can support lion, who spends most of the day heave-crying about how proud he is into his husband’s shoulder. gustave just pats him on the back and tells him that they’ll run out of donuts if they don’t get to the concession stand soon

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - doc. civil disobedience, baby!! he has never been caught. lion fears the law after his youth, so he tries to avoid any visits to law enforcement. he also can’t stand to see his son behind bars

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - doc. househusband, remember?

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - doc, but only because he can be a bit of a spice supremacist. he has to get his ingredients from these very specific farms and markets or else his great grandmother will begin manifesting in their house to curse them

Who does the grocery shopping? - doc, bc he does NOT trust lion to not just sweep all of the microwave ramen and kraft mac n cheese into the cart then sprint to self-checkout

How often do they bake desserts? - whenever possible. doc and maestro live by the philosophy “don’t do anything halfway” if they’re going to go through the trouble of making a meal, it will have multiple courses.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - doc is more of a salad eater but only for ease of consumption with halal laws. he adores filet mignon

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - lion! maestro enlists himself as assistant head chef after walking into the base’s kitchen one day to find lion covered in flour and lying facedown on the floor, crying

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - also lion! though he’s memorized doc’s order at all of their favorite restaurants, so he usually just gets take out and puts on a big show of being a “tired housewife who works in the kitchen all day just for this one meal” and setting up the table so it’s all nice and romantic

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - lion. he tried crème brûlée once. never again

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - lion. organization is everything to this man. doc helps with laundry and such, but for the most part he leaves organization to lion and his systems (think leslie knope levels of planning and organization)

Who is really against chores? - neither! they both understand that teamwork makes the dream work, baby!!

Who cleans up after the pets? - doc, since lion’s already asked him which color hanger should represent “clothes i can tear off my husband before we fuck” and he needs a Moment

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - neither. they don’t own a broom

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - lion because of the deep-seated catholic urge to appear perfect in front of others, and doc because people will gossip, olivier!

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - lion. he immediately called doc into the room and asked “is this your stash of drug money?” doc, who had been asleep because it was 3 in the morning on a saturday, just stares at him

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - it is so bold to assume they don’t shower together to “cut costs”

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - lion is known in their neighborhood as the man who walks cats. there is a facebook page where people post pictures of him walking his cats. vigil is an admin

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - LITERALLY EVERY HOLIDAY GETS DECORATIONS. lion makes his own for the muslim holidays since there really aren’t many “of good quality” in stores. when they first started dating, doc came home to find his house covered in ramadan decorations, and lion standing precariously on a ladder, trying to string up fairy lights while learning how to pronounce important arabic words. needless to say, doc cries

What are their goals for the relationship? - mutual joy and contentment!!!!

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - doc. he’s sleepy

Who plays the most pranks? - lion, but they’re stupid ones like replacing certain pictures with danny devito. doc gets back at him by replacing pictures of jesus with ewan mcgregor, and putting yoda into his nativity scene. lion doesn’t notice

#ask #anonymous #r6s doc #r6s lion #doc/lion #ass alert!#could you tell i forgot whether or not lion's ex and son had names #thank you for interacting!

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bijackkellys · 4 years ago

Text

thunderstruck ; part three

safe haven.

Fandom: Newsies (All Media Types) Relationships: Jack Kelly/David Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer Word Count: 4,352 Dedications: a huge huge shoutout to my beta and gf @mistyw273 without whom this fic would not exist! tag list (if you’d like to be added to this list just send me an ask or dm!): @dimenovelcowboy @santa-fe-maniac @pulitzers-world @yo-let-me-get-a-milkyway @verified-dumbass @jewishdavidjacobs @agentsnickers @thetruthabouttheboy @the-games-changing Author’s Note: yes i know what i said and i'm aware that it's been WEEKS since i posted and i have absolutely nothing to say for myself. except that i'm the worst. and also that i'm going to stop making promises and tell you guys straight out that i'm probably not going to be any better at updating from this point forward, especially considering i'm working on college apps and sat prep right now. but it's fine! i hope the fact that this chapter is only like 10 words less than all the other chapters so far put together sort of makes up for it? but i kind of hate this part; i have a ton of exposition to get through so i'm really really sorry if it sucks and you've waited this long for like 4.3k of bullshit. i'm also sorry that i still haven't introduced kath—she will get here in the next chapter and she will play no small role in this fic, i promise!! we've just got a lot to get through leading up to that. anyway, thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed so far, and if you're still here despite my questionable reliability (or lack thereof) i love you, personally. tws for this chapter includes a minor panic attack, mentions of vomiting but it's pretty brief, and that's about it.

read it on ao3

MEDDA IS SINGING when they get to her apartment.

Even through the closed door, Jack can hear her voice lilting down the corridor, a bittersweet melody that he can’t quite remember but loves all the same. It makes him falter, makes his throat close up as warmth and the ache of missing her spread through his chest in time with each other. He doesn’t know what she’ll say when she sees him, and the thought of her viewing him as a killer nearly makes his knees buckle. Distantly he thinks that it doesn’t matter what the world has been told as long as she believes him.

“Is this it?” the older boy says behind him, gesturing to the door that Jack is staring at. He’d mostly been quiet the whole walk here, but now he’s looking at Jack expectantly.

Jack nods and pushes back the tide of emotions swelling in his chest. If he waits any longer he might never be able to do this. He knocks twice on the door, and her singing cuts off abruptly; he hears her voice saying “Coming!” and then the lock clicking as the door swings open.

“Hi, Miss Medda,” Jack says hoarsely.

She stares at him. For this brief, terrible moment, he thinks she’s going to turn him away, and then she’s crying and oh, she pulls him into a hug. Something he’s been trying to hold back since he found himself running in the streets hours ago spills forth. In her arms he can’t stop the tears; he feels suddenly twelve years old again, scared and small but not alone, not anymore.

“You’re alive,” she’s saying, over and over, like a mantra. “Oh, baby, you’re really here.”

Jack clings to her tightly. “I didn’t do it,” he breathes, desperate for her to know as she runs a hand through his hair. “The fire—that wasn’t me.”

“I didn’t believe them for one second.” Medda pulls him back at arm’s length. “But where have you been?”

He winces, looks away. “The Refuge. I just escaped.” Her mouth opens again but he shakes his head slightly and she nods, understanding immediately.

“It’s okay, sweetie. We’ll talk later,” she says, and cups his cheek with a gentle hand. He leans into it, starved of positive contact like this for so long. “Jack Kelly,” she says warmly, her eyes shining—he’s gotten so used to hearing his name spit at him like a curse—“I thought I’d never see you again.” She huffs a laugh and smiles at him, wiping at his eyes with her thumb. “Don’t you ever disappear on me like that again, you understand?”

He gives a watery chuckle, maybe his first in months. “I’ll do my best, Miss Medda.”

She pulls him into another hug, squeezing his shoulders tightly, before her eyes come to rest on the two boys still standing awkwardly in the hallway. “And who are your new friends?” she asks.

“Oh, this is—” Jack breaks off, realizing abruptly that they had never gotten to introductions. The younger of the two steps forward and puffs his chest out.

“I’m Les, and this is my brother, David,” he says brightly. He’s been solemn since Jack met him, no doubt jarred by his experience with the Snatchers, but Medda’s warmth is notoriously infectious. Even the kid’s older brother—Davey—cracks a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” he says politely, and Medda beams and waves a hand.

“None of that. It’s Miss Medda to you, darling. Come on in,” She steps out of the doorway and gestures inside, placing a gentle hand on the small of Jack’s back as she ushers him in. He’s grateful for it, a grounding presence that reminds him he’s really here in front of her. “Stay as long as you like, boys.”

In the last few hours alone, Jack has felt like he’s been thrust into an entirely different world. Entering Medda’s apartment is a burst of shining familiarity; there’s the elegant wooden piano in the corner, the blooming plants lining the windowsills, the photos of the theater and the paintings Jack has done over the years hanging on the walls. The faint smell of cinnamon in the air. He may never have lived here, but it feels like coming home all the same.

“I’ve still got the clothes you’ve left here, if you want to change,” Medda tells him. “I’ll get something going for us to eat—how does Sancocho sound? I don’t have any plantains, and now I know it’s not quite the same without them—”

“That sounds incredible, Miss Medda,” Jack says, his mouth already watering. For as long as he’s known her, Medda has always made it a point to give him and the other boys a taste of home however she can manage. She’d tested recipes for Sancocho for months until she’d perfected the warm, rich stew that always drew up distant memories of Jack’s mother.

Medda smiles at him and bustles into the kitchen, pulling vegetables from the fridge. “David, Les, is there anything you two don’t eat?” she calls to them.

“Oh, we keep Kosher, so no pork, shellfish, or meat and dairy together? And Les can’t have peanuts. Sorry,” Davey responds quickly.

“No worries, darling, this recipe doesn’t call for any of that anyway. Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours—Jack, why don’t you go clean up and get some rest? You look exhausted, baby.”

It’s one of those things he doesn’t fully realize until she points out, and then it hits him full-force; he thinks his legs will give with the impact of it. He’s tired and starved and wants absolutely nothing more than to take a hot shower and eat and sleep through the next day—and in truth the only thing holding him back is the still-stinging bite of the cuffs around his wrists.

“Uh, Miss Medda—you got a screwdriver somewhere around here?” he asks tentatively, rubbing at the skin underneath them.

Her gaze drifts to his hands and she winces in sympathy. “In the office down the hall. There’s a toolkit on the shelf—you need some help, Jack?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’ve got it,” he says as he heads into the room.

It turns out to be harder than he expected. He spends a good ten minutes hacking at the cuffs with a screwdriver, but all he really succeeds in doing is scraping his wrists raw. He’s getting desperate, though—the longer he’s stripped of his powers, the less he feels like himself, and the silver steel is nothing but a jolting reminder of everything that’s happened. He needs to find a way to get these stupid things off.

“It doesn’t look like you’ve got it.”

Jack’s head snaps up to see Davey standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. His expression is hard to read, half-concerned but laced with something else, and he’s sort of tentative as he steps into the room and kneels down beside Jack. “Here, let me.” He holds his hand out for the screwdriver.

Jack gives it to him and splays his hands out in between them. Davey switches out the head of the tool for a tiny flathead and gets to work on the right cuff, astonishingly careful. His slender, practiced fingers pry open a tiny panel on the side of the cuff, exposing the circuit board underneath.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Jack notes.

Davey pauses his movement for a split second and then continues without looking up. “I was captain of my high school robotics team for two years,” he responds. “And I’m an engineering major.”

Jack clings to this small piece of information; it’s the first thing he’s learned about Davey since they met, and he’s already desperate for more. “Where do you go?” he asks. At this, Davey tenses up, and Jack bites back a wince. “I’m not trying to interrogate you,” he says flatly, after a moment. “Guess I just...thought you’d changed your mind about me.”

Davey’s dark eyes latch on to Jack’s for just a moment before darting away. “I don’t know yet,” he answers finally. He prods at the wires of the cuff; there’s this crinkle in his brow that Jack can’t help but think is sort of endearing. “Miss Medda seems like a really good person,” he continues, still barely looking at Jack. “And she clearly loves you a lot. It’s possible you could be lying to her, too, but the way you were when you saw her—no one’s that good of an actor.”

“So what’s your holdup?”

“I’m not sure what to believe.” Davey twists the screwdriver and bites his lip, then meets Jack’s gaze at last. “After you—after the hospital burned down, the whole city was in chaos. No one knew what to think or who to blame—the police revealed that the sprinkler line had been damaged, and that some of the exits had been sealed, and that the fire started because the power box had been tampered with.”

Jack’s stomach twists. “I don’t understand...you—you’re saying it wasn’t an accident?”

“I think if it had been, it would’ve been contained a lot faster,” Davey says darkly. “It hadn’t even been a week before The World published a full story about how it was Strike’s doing. Jack, there were witness statements, sources explaining how your powers could’ve caused this—”

“I was trying to save people,”

“A lot of people thought you had done it by accident. Or that you’d...snapped, or something.”

“I nearly died in that fire.” He isn’t entirely sure he hadn’t, to be honest. Everything since then is blurry and out of place, and he feels like he’s been set right back to grappling desperately for a handhold, like he’s in the center of an inferno all over again—

There’s a click of metal on metal and the cuff on his right hand clatters to the floor.

“Got it,” Davey says, and suddenly Jack can breathe again. Even with the cuff still circling his left hand, he feels electricity surge through him, that familiar hum of lightning beneath his skin. A part of him he hasn’t felt in so, so long.

Sparks dance over his fingertips, and the air fills with static. He can see the hairs on Davey’s arms standing on end and despite everything, fights the urge to laugh. Davey looks at him, eyes wide with amazement, and Jack wonders if he can taste the power in the air, too.

“Thanks,” Jack says, breathless as he runs his hand over the torn skin of his wrist.

Davey nods and gently takes his left hand, starting the process again and evidently more sure of what he’s doing now. “Jack,” he begins, but whatever he’s going to say next, Jack doesn’t let him finish.

“Someone set me up,” he says fiercely, trying hard not to sound as desperate for Davey to believe him as he really is. “Whatever evidence and witnesses they had—it was fake.”

“Okay, but why?” Davey presses. “Why go through all this trouble to frame a dead man? How did they get The World to publish a bunch of false information? And if someone really is trying to pin this on you,” there’s a click, and the cuff around Jack’s left hand pings against the ground, “who set the fire in the first place?”

Jack can’t remember the last time he’d had a hot shower. Even before the fire—and god, Jack is really about to start categorizing his life events as before and after his death, like that’s not absolutely insane—the lodging house never really had a surplus of hot water, especially with so many of them. Standing under it now, though, everything else melts into the background. There are scars and bruises along his skin that he hadn’t even noted before, but the water is like instant relief; he doesn’t have to think, just lets it wash him clean.

By the time he gets out, the effects of the drugs, which have been weaning away for hours now, seem completely gone. Everything is sharper, like he’s been thrusted into high-definition, his thoughts clearer and his memories—well, his memories becoming more painful by the second.

It’s not easy, trying to push it all back. As he pulls on fresh clothes, Jack stares at himself in the mirror, at the jagged scars raised against his chest and the tiny spots that pockmark his forearms where he remembers needles going in, and tries to reconcile this picture of himself—exhausted and hollowed out and afraid—with the identity he’d spent so long building up from the ground. He doesn’t look like Strike, New York City’s favorite vigilante. He looks like a scared kid.

He doesn’t know what to do. Something bigger than himself is brewing in the city, he knows it, he has to stop it. But he doesn’t know how. People are counting on him and Jack just wants to forget any of this ever happened.

There’s so much noise. Davey’s questions are ringing in his ears and behind them there are voices telling him he’s never, ever going to get out, and he thinks he might be on fire. Everything is too hot and too loud and hurts.

There’s nothing in his stomach to throw up, but he dry heaves over the toilet anyway.

Jack sits back on the cold tile floor and drags his knees up to his chest. He could just go—break out the money he’s been saving and skip town, hop on a bus all the way to Santa Fe. Crutchie could come with him, and he could change his name—again—and start fresh. Never see this place again.

Except there’s an arsonist on the loose in the city. There are Snatchers all over the streets, and maybe Jack wants nothing more than to leave it but New York is still his city, still his place to protect. He can’t just leave.

Jack tilts his head towards the ceiling, biting back the urge to scream. The unsteady silence is broken by a tentative knock at the door, and then Medda’s voice—“Jack, honey,” she says, “Dinner’s ready. You okay in there?”

Slowly, he picks himself off the floor, pulls the loose hoodie hanging on the door on over his clean t-shirt, takes a shuddering breath. “I’ll be right out,” he calls through the door, and glances at his reflection one more time. He can be Strike again. He can do this.

And even if he can’t, he has to.

The Sancocho is perfect, warm and spicy and brimming with the taste of home. By the time he’s inhaled maybe three servings and helped clear the dishes, Jack is so exhausted that he doesn’t even make it to the guest room. He just stumbles towards the couch and collapses there with the sunlight still spilling in through the windows, falling hard and fast into a heavy sleep.

It’s dark when he bolts awake. He feels hot and breathless, his heart racing against his ribcage, and whatever awful memory had invaded his dreams left the sharp taste of metal in his mouth. Sparks flicker across his fingers, blinding blue-white in the darkness, and Jack curls his hands into fists to quell the lightning brimming in his veins. His eyes dart to the clock on the wall; it’s just past one in the morning. He doesn’t think he’ll get back to sleep any time soon.

He maneuvers around the coffee table to stumble blindly towards the kitchen instead. A dim glow catches his eye, then; Davey is sitting at the bar stools, hunched over his laptop.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Jack says, and Davey starts and then swears.

“Jeez, you gave me a heart attack,” he huffs as Jack chuckles lightly and fills a glass with water. “I thought you were still asleep. And...no. You?”

Jack shrugs. “I slept okay, got a few good hours. But I don’t think I can go back to bed. What are you doing?” he asks, nodding towards the open laptop.

Davey hesitates. “Miss Medda let me borrow her computer. I’m trying to contact the rest of my family,” he replies, his gaze flitting between the screen and Jack’s eyes. “When Les and I ran off there were already Snatchers at our house. None of them have powers, though. Just Les.” He works his lip between his teeth. “They said not to contact them in case the Snatchers found some way to trace it back to us, but I set up a separate email account and sent them a vague message, hoping they’ll know it’s me. I just need to know if they’re okay.”

Jack’s chest twists in sympathy. Davey’s family is just one more example of all the lives the Snatchers have torn apart—and Jack is the poster boy for their whole agenda. He has to fix this, for Davey, and for the rest of his city. “You’ll see them again soon, Davey,” he says—yet another promise he can’t afford to break—“I’m gonna make this right, okay?”

“How?” Davey scoffs. “You don’t even know where to start.”

Jack slips his hands into the pockets of his clean hoodie and feels the familiar weight of the flash drive he’d placed there. Actually, he might have some idea. “Can I use the computer?” Jack says, barely waiting for Davey’s nod before taking a seat on the barstool beside him and plugging the flash drive in.

“What is that?” Davey’s brow furrows.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I took this from a computer in the Refuge’s control room, hoping I’d find something important. Maybe something here could give us a clue of what’s really going on.” There’s only a handful of files on the drive, and they’re labeled with numbers instead of actual names. Jack opens the first one and feels his heart sink. “Shit. It’s encrypted.”

“Let me try,” Davey says, pulling the laptop towards him and typing furiously. The computer makes a few error noises in protest as he works through the code, but Davey is laser-focused, seems to know exactly what he’s doing. He’s some kind of genius. “Got it,” he announces after a few minutes. Sure enough, the screen flickers, and rows of text begin to replace the numbers and symbols from before.

“That was incredible,” Jack tells him.

Davey shrugs and ducks his head, smiling just a little before turning back to the screen. “They look like email exchanges. Between some guy named Snyder—” Jack feels a cold trickle of shock run through him at that name, “—and...Joseph Pulitzer.”

“Wait, Pulitzer?” Jack leans forward to read over Davey’s shoulder. “As in the CEO of The World?”

“He’s running for mayor in next month’s election,” Davey explains. “It looks like he’s trying to get Snyder’s support? He’s promising money to fund the Refuge. But why would—shit.” There’s something dawning on his expression as he looks up at Jack, eyes blown wide. “Jack, a lot of his campaign has relied on anti-super propaganda. And...The World was the one who first published the story about you setting the fire.”

The realization crashes into him, hard and fast. “He’s the one who framed me.” Jack feels a hot rush of anger surge through him. “For what, a political platform? So that he could give the people a common enemy? Holy shit, did he set that fire for this...twisted agenda?”

“I can’t believe this,” Davey shakes his head, leaning back in his chair and tugging his hands through his dark hair, shell-shocked. “How could he do something like this?”

How could he?

“I’m going to kill him,” Jack says fiercely, and the lights above him flicker. He stands up, feeling wild, brimming with untamed fury—innocent people died for Pulitzer’s insane power grab, and he has to pay for that. He can’t get away with this, he won’t; Jack can’t find it in himself to mitigate his anger right now, he needs to find Pulitzer and fix this.

“Jack—Jack!” Davey’s hand latches around his wrist and a shock like static electricity bursts between them, making him pull back. “Wait. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“What, you just want me to let him walk? He killed people, Davey. Innocent people.”

“You don’t actually know that yet.”

“I know enough,” Jack snaps, pulling back. “This can’t all be a coincidence, it makes too much sense. He has to be behind this, behind everything.”

“I’m not arguing that.” Davey is astonishingly calm; Jack doesn’t know how he can keep his resolve right now, after finding out something this sick. “But what are you going to do, break into his house and murder him? What is that going to solve? Things are only gonna get worse for supers.”

Jack hesitates. Davey is right—a personal attack on one of the most influential people in New York would make him even more of a villain than he already is. And every super in the city would suffer from it. He can’t make this some sort of revenge plot; he has to be smart about it. He takes a shuddering breath. “Then I’ll expose him. These emails—”

“—aren’t enough. All you have from this is a theory. Pulitzer would just find a way to spin it, make you look like the bad guy here. Again.” He shakes his head. “He holds all the cards right now. We have to find hard, indisputable evidence. What we need is a way to get close to him.”

“We?” Out of everything, that’s the word Jack gets hung up on. Davey’s making it sound as though they’re partners.

Davey looks at him for a second. “I believe you, Jack,” he says finally. “I’m sorry I didn’t before. I don’t think you set that fire, and if we’re right, and Pulitzer did frame you, and we can find proof...we might be able to stop everything. Shut down the Refuge for good.”

“No, no—I’m not dragging you into this any further than I already have,” Jack stops him before he can go any further. His whole time as Strike, he’s been a solo act for a reason—not for lack of Race or Specs or Elmer trying to get him to let them join him—but because he can’t bring himself to pull someone else into this life. Especially not someone like Davey, who’s an engineering student, and a genius, and has a family. He’s got his whole life ahead of him. “I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me so far, I really do, but I can take it from here. You and your brother just lay low and stay out of trouble.”

“You can’t do this by yourself,” Davey argues. There’s something hardening behind his eyes, something bright and sharp and determined. “I’ve already shown you what I can do, so let me help you.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

He snorts, defensive. “I can handle it.”

“You think so?” Jack stares him down, skin buzzing. “I almost died because of this, and I may not remember everything about the Refuge, but I can tell you that it wasn’t pretty. If we try to take Pulitzer, there’s a good chance we don’t make it out alive.”

Davey doesn’t break his gaze. “But if we do it together, we double our odds,” he says quietly. When Jack snorts and turns away, Davey keeps going. “This is so much bigger than you or me, Jack. If we can pull this off, we could make New York safe for supers again. I promised that I would protect Les, but I can’t do that as long as there are Snatchers roaming the streets and as long as Pulitzer has power. And you can’t protect this city if you’re dead.”

Jack wishes he didn’t have a point. “You could get hurt,” he counters. “You don’t even have powers.”

“You’ll protect me,” Davey replies swiftly, and something in Jack’s stomach twists.

“You have an awful lot of faith for someone who didn’t trust me an hour ago,” he says grimly, eyes darting away from Davey’s fierce ones.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Davey presses, unrelenting, and god, the offer is tempting. Davey clearly knows his way around his computers and technology, a skill that could be really helpful here, and more than that, Jack stupidly, selfishly doesn’t want to do this by himself. He wants a partner. He’s tired of being alone, and he hates himself for it.

“We do this on my terms,” Jack says finally, and in the corner of his eye, he can see Davey smiling. “I say get out, you get out. You’ve got to be smart about this. Got it?”

“Understood,” Davey nods. “I’ll be okay, Jack. I promise. So where do we start?”

“It’s like you said, we have to get close to Pulitzer.” Jack sits back down, racks his brain for anything that could help. Pulitzer is a private person, watching the rest of the city from high off the ground; getting close to him would require someone who already knows him well. He can practically see the lightbulb over his head when it hits him—he knows the perfect candidate. He just hopes she’ll be willing to join them.

“I know someone who might be able to help,” Jack says, already drafting an email—coded words like the two of them used to use when he was just starting out as Strike. “She interned as Pulitzer’s personal assistant for a while when she was in high school, but the last time I saw her she was a journalism student, working for The Sun. She may not work for him anymore, but she knew Pulitzer as well as anyone.” Jack takes a deep breath and pleads silently that she’ll believe him, then sends the message.

“And you think she’ll know what to do?” Davey asks.

“I’m sure of it.” Jack has always had faith in her; he knows she’ll come through, will fight for what she believes in. “If cards are what we’re playing,” he tells Davey, suddenly brimming with a newfound sense of determination, “then Katherine Plumber is our ace.”

#THUNDERSTRUCK #newsies #writing #my writing #umanawrites #newsies fanfic #jack kelly #david jacobs #javid #jathvey #ot3: watch what happens #newsies the musical

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24hour-blues · 4 years ago

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all the ones you haven't answered yet? i'm sorry you're sad💙

thank you, that's very sweet. i hope you're doing alright 💛

1. when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? - more milk. i always end up putting too much.

2. do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? - yes

3. what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? - library receipts, post-its, junk mail, pencils

5. are you self-conscious of your smile? - i think it’s one of the few things i’m not self-conscious about, actually. i like my smile.

8. what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? - writing, often poetry but sometimes prose. i like creating playlists, too, and singing.

9. do you like singing/humming to yourself? - yeah, i sing to myself all the time. whatever song i have stuck in my head at the moment.

10. do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? - side, but very occasionally my stomach.

12. what’s your favorite planet? - jupiter

14. if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? - lots of pillows and blankets of all types. succulents and cacti on the windowsills. wooden utensils and dark cabinets in the kitchen. a breakfast bar with stools that don’t match. rugs with funky patterns. a big, soft couch in a bright color that you can sink into. a small balcony with fold-out chairs. rows of mugs and barely any plates. the bathroom crowded with makeup and skin products, writing on the mirror in blue marker. beds never made. a guitar in the corner of the sitting room.

15. go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! - there are more trees on earth than stars in the milky way

16. what’s your favorite pasta dish? - angel hair pasta with puttanesca sauce

18. tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. - i can’t think of anything...

19. do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? - everything. sometimes it’s big things, sometimes small. my fears and what i’m in love with. regrets. shame. hope.

20. what’s your favorite eye color? - grey

21. talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. - idk if it’s really my favorite, but my current backpack took me all through college and it’s good for storing stuff or using as an overnight bag. it’s from timberland and is a nice earthy brown with a flap over the top. lots of pockets.

22. are you a morning person? - i can be

23. what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? - make breakfast and tea. read or watch a movie that makes me rethink everything

25. what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? - a school, i think?

26. what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? - i haven’t had them forever, but i wear my doc martens with everything. i used to wear plain white keds with everything.

27. what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? - winter green

28. sunrise or sunset? - sunrise

30. think of it: have you ever been truly scared? - yes

31. what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. - i like soft, fluffy socks and ones with fun patterns. i love hiking socks. i don’t wear them to sleep tho.

32. tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. - i went to a waffle house at 5am with a friend and some friends of hers i’d just met on her birthday. we were all really drunk, the food took forever, and it tasted awful, but we were happy and laughing.

33. what’s your fave pastry? - probably a cinnamon roll

35. do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? - i like a good calligraphy pen and new notebooks. i don’t use them often; i feel like i don’t have anything important enough to write.

37. do you like keeping your room messy or clean? - it’s usually clean unless i’m not feeling well. sometimes i get disorganized.

38. tell us about your pet peeves! - overlapping conversations. people interrupting others. loud mouth noises, like chewing or licking. people criticizing my driving. nitpicky comments on my clothes or how i look. being talked about.

39. what color do you wear the most? - black, probably.

41. what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? - how it feels to float by helena fox

42. do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! - nope

43. who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? - i’m not sure

44. when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? - i can’t remember

45. do you trust your instincts a lot? - not really

46. tell us the worst pun you can think of. - i can’t remember it but something about pigeons and being coo-l

47. what food do you think should be banned from the universe? - bacon. i just wanna make people angry.

48. what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? - my dad told me a story once, about when i was a kid. he said that he and i were walking together near the lake in the neighborhood across from mine. i was holding his hand, and i said to him that this was the happiest time in my life because i wouldn't be the same when i grew out of being a child. i think i have the same fear now--that i'll never be that happy again.

49 do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

- i like records but i only have one. it's an album by ccr. i really like them

50. what’s an odd thing you collect?

- beer bottle caps

52. what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

- maybe those "girl..." text posts that just say stupid shit

53. have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

- watched them all but pulp fiction. i don't really remember heathers at all

55. what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

- lets not talk about that

57. go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

- not in the mood sorry

58. who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? - bri is wine mom. quincy and i are vodka aunt.

60. do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

- yes but i rarely remember favorites. i read so much and feel it then forget all the words

61. what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

- someone gave me a rock once. i get too nervous to give stupid gifts

62. do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

- orange or cranberry

63. are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

- i'm more fussy about music than books, but i do like my books organized. i like them worn in and well-read tho, not in perfect shape.

64. what color is the sky where you are right now?

- a fuzzy, light blue-grey. it's snowing

65. is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

- a few

66. what would your ideal flower crown look like?

- lots of green leaves in all different shapes and sizes. tiny white and blue flowers.

67. how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

- isolated and insignificant. safe

68. what’s winter like where you live?

- cold, grey, snowy.

69. what are your favorite board games?

- idk if i really too many board games. maybe cranium. i like puzzles more

71. what’s your favorite kind of tea?

- honey vanilla chamomile

72. are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

- yea and even then i forget.

73. what are some of your worst habits?

- i give up too easily

74. describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

- excitable. emotional. so very smart. creative as all hell. self-conscious where they shouldn't be. never runs out of words in the best way. loves to share.

75. tell us about your pets!

- my dog shiver is turning into a little old man, but he still acts like a puppy. he likes attention and whines to communicate. he'll greet you at the door and put his front paws on your thighs to say hi. follows you all around the house. loves to cuddle.

- my pigeon spirit is young and vocal. she coos for attention. when i go to sleep, she grunts every time i move to ask where i am and if i'm okay. i take showers with her and sit on the tile; she puffs up right into my side and sticks her wings out for me to splash water on her. she likes to be close to me to get neck scritches and push her head into my neck and preen every bit of me she can.

76. is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

- a lot probably

77. pink or yellow lemonade?

- limeade

78. are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

- i dunno they're cute

80. what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

- it's white wallpaper with pink roses along the top and ribbons of pink and green striped vertically. my mom chose it before i was born.

81. describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

- they sort of remind me of dark water where everything is reflected back in it--not just the sky but the trees and people walking--and they make you want to look closer because you know there's something in there, it's not just a reflection, like flat glass. but it's hidden until you dio your hand in the pictures broken.

82. are/were you good in school?

- pretty good

83. what’s some of your favorite album art?

- i don't look at albums

85. do you read comics? what are your faves?

- not really, but watchmen is one of my favorites.

86. do you like concept albums? which ones?

- dunno

88. are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

- um. idrk. i like whatever monet was doing.

91. where do you plan on traveling this year?

- maybe michigan

92. are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

- i like cheese

93. what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

- i just kind of. let it do whatever.

94. who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

- my uncle

95. what are your plans for this weekend?

- honestly have no clue

96. do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

- put them off until windows tells me it's restarting the computer in five minutes

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

- mb

98. when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

- in college with jacob, although i wouldn't really call it joking. we just walked through a state park. it was beautiful.

100. if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

- idk. i feel like i'd make the same mistakes if i went back, but the future scares me.

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