#breaking them in was HELL and wearing white socks was NOT the vibe

[ninkaku]

man ... everything about this is so perfect, the blood on his sock, the scratched paint, the posing the hair the bandages the book on his knee like he's had to stop what he's doing and bend down to fix it ........... the FACE !!!!!!!! FACE CARD !!!!

[angryschnauzer]

Undercover Honeymoon

Summary; Having survived a helicopter crash that killed off the gang you and your senior agent had infiltrated, you hide out from the storm that brought the aircraft down by pretending to be Honeymooners at a boutique hotel... but what will 24 hours with August Walker bring you? Trouble, that’s what, and the best possible kind.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race or body type specified)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, honestly this is entirely smut, its a crack fic too. Sigh, here goes: face slap, murder, August in a hoodie and grey sweatpants, oral sex (female recieving), blowjob, drunken antics, impared judgement, titty fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, inappropriate lube, multiple orgasms, dubious consent, choking, dom-vibes, Sugar Daddy arrangement (but no Daddy kink).

I do not run a tag list, but if you go and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and hit notifications, you’ll get an alert to any new stories i post. All previous fics can be found on there or on my Ao3

Undercover Honeymoon

The helicopter spiralled out of control, the tall pines looming through the storm of the century rain, screaming filled your ears, unsure if it was the sound of the engines failing or coming from your own lungs. The aircraft made contact with the trees and everything went black.

-

“Agent… AGENT!” a slap across your face sprang you from your unconscious state, your vision blurred and you winced at the sharp pain that shot through your temple as the face before you came into focus.

“Walker?” you muttered; “Can’t blow our cover…”

Strong arms gripped your shoulders;

“Wake UP! Everyone else is dead”

The next hour was surreal. Agent Walker - your superior officer - had pulled you from the wreckage of the helicopter, past the lifeless bodies of the gang you’d infiltrated, some of which had injuries that looked suspiciously like gunshot wounds. Either way you were alive and so was the other undercover agent, and having spent the last four days running bank robberies you were relieved to be rid of the brutal gang.

Agent Walker had half dragged half carried you through the forest, and even though it was the middle of the day, the torrential rain and dark storm clouds above made the way feel like you were travelling at twilight. When you stumbled on some roots he caught you, his arm firmly around your waist;

“C’mon Agent, not much further now…” his voice softer than usual, reassuring even.

“Where’re we going?”

“Out of season ski lodge… should be quiet this time of year, just a couple of wildlife watchers no doubt”

-

What you’d been expecting was a cute little place with checkered curtains and cutesy decor, what you’d arrived at was a luxury boutique hotel. Agent Walker had managed to spin a very convincing tale of your car leaving the highway due to the weather and he’d arrange to get it recovered after the storm so you could continue your ‘honeymoon’. The receptionist had smiled warmly and offered the pair of you the luxury suite, August merrily peeling $100 bills off a stack he’d produced from his pocket, the paper band that held them together from the robbery slyly crumpled up and you quietly picked it up from the floor, a tiny smirk on the corner of his face when he spotted you covering his rare mistake.

-

Ten minutes later you were settled in your shared room, starting to peel yourself out of your soaked boots and clothing as you eyed the enormous bathroom and ultra fluffy robes that were provided.

“I’m going to go to the gift shop…” he announced, breaking the silence; “They do hoodies and stuff, i’ll grab some dry things to change into…”

“Thanks Agent Walker… I’m going to take a bath…”

He nodded quietly, standing at the door;

“It’s August… call me August”

You must have fallen asleep in the bath, as the next thing you know there is an insistent knocking on the bathroom door;

“Honey? Honey, everything ok in there?”

“Y-yes, Sorry, fell asleep…”

“Ok Honey, just got room service here delivering some lunch”

“Thanks Aug… Augie…”

Augie? Where the hell did that come from? You mentally chastised yourself. An hour ago he was your senior agent and all round grumpy supervisor, now he was ‘Augie’? You actually facepalmed yourself before taking a deep breath and climbing out of the bath. A few moments later once you were dry, wearing the fluffy robe you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, your breath catching in your throat;

“Augie… we have company?”

Agent Walker was standing in the middle of the room in his shirt, underwear and socks, talking to the room service attendant as he tipped the young man;

“Darling, lunch is here, you must be famished” he let a warm smile spread over his face as he turned to the staff member; “We must have a bite to eat… expending lots of energy, it is our honeymoon after all…”

Once he’d ushered the man out of the room he cleared his throat and his expression dropped, his face serious again;

“I got your new attire… it fits more with the location” he motioned for you to follow him to the bed where there were a number of things laid out, however your feet were rooted to the floor; “What?”

“You’re… you’re in your underwear…”

He looked down, almost in shock to discover he was without his cargo pants;

“Yes? And you’re completely naked beneath that fetching white robe” he motioned to a side of the bed where a bunch of things were sat on the pristine white duvet; “So unless you wish to eat lunch having me know you are naked save for a glorified towel with sleeves - and that would be a delightful thought - you may want to get changed whilst i shower”

Without another word he smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and grabbed a pile of clothing on the bed, before sauntering into the bathroom, leaving you open jawed at both his sassiness and his tight ass in snug jersey boxers.

Turning back to what was laid on the bed you looked over what he’d managed to get in the hotel’s boutique; a daringly short floral summer dress, a hoodie with the Hotel’s logo on, a pack of novelty thong panties also with bears on, and the highest heeled wedge sandals you’d ever seen. Although none of this surprised you, it was after all the kind of hotel where in good weather, the rich and famous could have cocktails on the deck as they overlooked the Rocky mountains, the fact he’d managed to find your exact size in everything was impressive.

Leaving the heels off for now, you pull the panties and dress on, throwing the hoodie on unzipped to cover up a little, before going to investigate the food, realising that you probably hadn’t eaten for close to 24 hours. You were bent over the service trolley scrutinising the various dishes that had been delivered when you heard his voice;

“Huh, didn’t need to buy you a wallet, those tiny panties show off your silken purse beautifully Princess”

Spinning around you gasped, about to give him a piece of your mind but your train of thought stopped like a record scratch. There before you stood Agent August Walker, grey sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, chest bare as he pulled a khaki green hoodie over his still damp curls. You noticed how his beard was a little beyond stubble, his mustache curling as a small smile tugged as his lips. Your gaze unashamedly ran down the length of his entire body, emphasis on length as it was clear he was without any underwear, and those rumours that were quietly whispered in the ladies room at the Pentagon were looking to be true as to exactly why they called him ‘The Hammer’.

Still holding a cooling French Fry he sauntered over to you before grabbing a sandwich from the platter;

“My apologies… that was inappropriate” he took a bite, before talking with his mouth full; “Been a crazy 24 hours huh?”

“Y-yeah, you could say that… so, what’s the plan?”

Just at that moment an incredible gust of wind rattled the windows to the point you thought they would blow in, the lights overhead flickered before settling back to bright as he answered;

“Eat, Drink, Sleep. We’re stuck here at least overnight. We don’t have any cells or electronics people can trace, and having checked the map this is not the closest civilisation to the crash site so even if people did come looking for us, this isn’t the first place they’d think of… however in this weather the roads are impassable, at least two rivers have breached their banks, we’re basically cut off from the rest of the world here in our own little bubble” he took a bite of sandwich before grinning at you; “So eat up, the bar downstairs is well stocked, dinner is apparently served in about 4 hours, and there’s a game room if you’re up for a round or two of pool…”

-

Giggling you both tumbled into your suite, August flicking the light switch up and down before realising the power had gone out at the exact moment he’d unlocked the door;

“Oooh dark… are you afraid of the dark Princess?”

The pair of you stumbled and turned, pushing the door shut and you found yourself pressed between it and August’s body, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses along your jugular, his facial hair leaving behind a trail of tingling skin in its wake;

“Depends who i’m in the dark with…”

He was so close, in the faint last traces of daylight as the storm took hold of the night you could see the outline of his face, how his long eyelashes rested against his cheeks as he closed his eyes, his breath warm on your skin as you were surrounded by his scent, pine soap and single malt whiskey;

“A monster…”

“I was never afraid of monsters…”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, pressing a kiss to your clothed stomach before his hands were beneath the skirt and pulling your novelty panties down;

“Hold your dress up Princess, show me that pretty pussy”

Doing as he told you, you gripped the pretty fabric in your hands as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before his thick fingers parted your folds and he dived in. His mustache and light beard pricked at your sensitive skin, but his tongue and lips soothed your aching core, desperate for attention and dripping with need as he went to town on you. He quickly brought you to orgasm before pushing you on for the next, his fingers now knuckle deep in your velvet walls, curling just right to find that spot that had you dripping, his tongue working against your clit to the point where you had to steady yourself by curling one hand through his soft chestnut curls, riding his face as you cried out his name.

Now over sensitive, you pulled his curls to get him to relent, a grunt of frustration coming from between your thighs;

“Augie… please… too sensitive…”

He quickly stood, lifting you to kiss you roughly, his tongue pushing into your mouth and you could taste yourself on his tongue as he gripped your ass as he carried you across the room before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed;

“Strip” he commanded as he staggered to the bathroom. 

You ignored his request, instead reaching for a bottle of water at the side of the bed, taking a drink from he as he returned holding a bottle;

“August… what’s that?”

He looked down at the bottle, almost surprised he was holding something and blinked a few times before looking back at you;

“Baby oil. Its... Baby oil”

“Why do you have Baby oil?” you asked, already knowing the answer but with a sly streak wanting to get him to admit it

“Because they didn’t sell condoms in the gift shop so i cant fuck your pussy because i can’t check to see if you’re on birth control” he blurted out quickly.

Whatever you had been expecting, it hadn’t been that, and as you coughed on the water you had been about to drink, August got distracted and moved to light the candles that sat on the table in the centre of the room now that the only available light was the tiny light over the sink in the bathroom that was battery operated. You watched as he somehow managed to strike the matches and light the candles even though he was visibly drunk, before returning back to the bed and standing over you;

“Why aren’t you naked?” he frowned at you; “Don’t make me rip that pretty little dress off of you Princess”

Shimmying out of your dress you bit your lip as you watched him watching you, the low light dancing over your body and enough for you to see the obscene bulge barely contained by his sweatpants. He stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you before he took hold of your ankles and roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed before he pulled the grey sweats down and you finally got sight of his legendary hammer;

“Fuck…”

“We’ll get to that Princess, but first, suck”

Taking him in your hands he was hot and throbbing at your touch, his thick shaft patterned with veins, heavy and virile. You pumped your fist, your fingers unable to meet as you worked his uncut dick. You felt his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer until you had no choice but to open your mouth and take him as deep as you could, gagging as he immediately hit the back of your throat and started to fuck your mouth.

Holding your head in place with both hands he rocked his hips back and forth, groaning as he stretched your lips almost uncomfortably. Soon you had spit running down your chin as he rained down a stream of degrading compliments;

“Cock hungry slut, look at you with my dick in your mouth… does it taste good, Jesus christ your tongue is perfect, yeah do that thing again, fuck, i can feel your throat tight around me…” with a gasp he pulled out, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his angry red tip, before he grabbed the baby oil and pushed you back until you were laying flat on the bed;

“Push your tits together, i’m gonna fuck them and cum all over your pretty face”

He climbed on the bed, straddling your lower torso as you found yourself pushing your breasts together. The click of a bottle of baby oil and it was being poured in the valley of your chest, before he settled his dick against the slick skin. He dropped the bottle and with a grunt pulled his hoodie over his head, revealing his glorious chest, covered in dark hair and thicker than you had realised. 

His dick was heavy against your chest as he took your hands in his and showed you how he wanted you to hold your titties for him, rocking his hips bath and forth as his hot flesh slipped through your soft pillows, the angry tip poking out at your neck with each thrust;

“So fucking pretty, gonna cum all over that face… you wanna taste my cum you little slut? Yeah? Cock hungry slut, can’t get enough of my dick, can you?”

You didn’t answer, the lust in his eyes making you drunk with desire, instead you tipped your head to your chest and opened your mouth, letting August’s dick slide into your mouth, the salty tang of his precum hitting your senses.

His thrusts were becoming rough and violent, his hips squeezing your ribcage as he fought back against the urge to cum, but you wanted it, needed it;

“August, will you cum on my face, pretty please?” you batted your eyelashes at him innocently and it was the final straw, and you watched as he threw his head back and thick ropes of his creamy seed spurted over your mouth and cheeks as he groaned so deliciously. On the last spurt you leaned forwards and took his tip into your mouth, gently laving your tongue over the leaking slit, before releasing him softly. August had eased his gasp on your tits, and using his thick finger he scooped the cum from your cheek;

“Open wide Princess”

Sticking your tongue out you sucked the bitter treat from his finger, before he repeated it with the other cheek. Finally swallowing you grinned at him;

“Thank you August”

His hand paused on your cheek, softly cupping it;

“Anything for you Princess… now scoot up the bed, i wanna eat that pussy again whilst i get you ready for my dick”

He swung his leg over so you could wriggle up the bed, and immediately he was laying between your legs, both of your thighs over his shoulders as he started to sloppily eat you out again, except this time his lubed fingers strayed to your asshole and he already had one knuckle deep in your back entrance. You were writhing against his tongue, and although not as accurate with his targets this time now that the alcohol in his system was taking hold, that wide tongue was driving you to heaven as his fingers pulled you down into the dark pits of depravity that hell could only contain. You were uttering almost incomprehensible gibberish, begging for more which he eagerly gave, a second and soon a third finger stretching your ass as he prepared you for what was yet to come. You came with a scream as his wide tongue tormented your pussy until you had to physically pull him by his curls to stop, breathless as you watched him kneel on the bed and grab the baby oil, pouring some onto his hand to lube his dick before smoothing a considerable amount over your asshole and lined up his now raging hard on with your stretched hole. He paused, looking down at you;

“Final chance to back out… do you want me to fuck your ass?”

“Yes… please August, i want your dick in my ass, i want you to cum in my ass, treat me like a dirty anal slut”

With a groan he pushed forwards, slowly breaching your body and you felt the uncomfortable stretch of having a dick slide into your ass. Even with the prep and the oil it still took a while for your body to relax enough for him to push in, but when he eventually was balls deep in your ass you felt so full you were sure you would burst;

“Oh my god… You’re so big…”

“Taking me like a champ Princess, even with the oil your ass is so fucking tight i’m struggling not to blow my load right here and now”

“Fuck my ass August, do it hard, i wanna feel it in the morning…”

With a roar he started to fuck into you, holding himself up on his massive arms as his hips pistoned into you, filling your barren depths as his pubic bone rubbed against your empty pussy and your juices flooded his crotch;

“So fucking wet Princess, leaking all down your ass, its only adding to the lube so i can fuck you harder. Your poor little battered asshole, you’re barely gonna be able to sit tomorrow… apart from back on my dick as we have breakfast, don’t think this is the only time i’m gonna fuck your ass, i’m gonna use this hole until you’re loose and stretched, so i can just bend you over and slide my dick into your ass. Gonna hide those stupid panties i bought you, i want you walking around bare, my cum dripping down your legs where there’s so much inside you, you can barely keep it inside… shame the gift shop didn’t sell plugs, i woulda’ filled you with my load and have you plugged and ready lubed for me to use whenever i pleased…”

August’s dirty talk had you cumming hard, squeezing him tight and yet he fucked you straight through it. Laying limp as he continued to fill your ass he slowed and moved, kneeling on the bed as he moved your legs from either side of his lips until both your feet were over one of his shoulders, pushing and pulling you until he had one arm firmly wrapped around your knees and he could fuck into your ass as he held you like a rag doll. The new position was tighter, deeper, and as you started to pant out with lust his free hand rested on your throat, squeezing carefully but firmly;

“Harder…” you panted out, your head swimming as your airway was restricted, and as he pounded into your ass you were both getting close.

“Gonna cum in your ass, fill you up with a massive load, you want that Princess?”

You tried to say yes, but all that came out was a tiny croak as his massive hand gripped your throat. Before you could even try again your orgasm hit, your eyes rolling back in their sockets as you squirted, your body gripping him so tight he reached his peak, pushing in as deep as he could as he pumped your ass full of his cum.

August released his grip on your neck, pulling out gently as he softly lay your legs on the bed;

“Did so well Princess, such a good little slut…”

You could only hum out a response, your mind as used as your body was.

-

You woke to the sound of soft rain falling against the window, peering out from beneath the duvet you could see that the grey light of morning was filling the room, the storm seemingly blown mostly through with just a persistent rain now dampening the earth. Shifting on the bed you winced, everything was sore, but especially your ass. But then a warm body pressed to your back, a large hand smoothed over your stomach and a familiar voice spoke softly in your ear as stubble brushed against your bare shoulders;

“Rise and shine…”

“Hmmmmm no, i don’t wanna get up” you grumbled

“But…”

“Noooo. If we get up then we’ve got to think about things going back to normal, i just wanna pretend i’m able to stay in a hotel as nice as this when i’m not trying to escape a dangerous gang… too many responsibilities, too much stress… i just want another half hour of being treated like a Princess” you grumbled.

A quiet chuckle came from behind you;

“There’s no reason why we can’t do this again”

Turning in his arms, you looked at August;

“How? You’re my superior Agent, the CIA pushes and pushes and pushes, I never get enough time off to do something like this, If i had known i was literally signing my life away i would never have signed up for the academy. What’s the fucking use of earning a good wage if i can never enjoy it… and its not even that good of a wage to be honest…” you paused and narrowed your gaze; “Have you showered?”

“Yes. And i have a proposition for you…”

“Keep talking…”

August started to move, slowly climbing between your legs and you felt his hard dick resting against your folds, your pussy instinctively growing wet, slowly rubbing against you as he smiled down at you;

“As a senior agent i get a considerably better wage than you do, but i don’t have anyone to share it with, anyone to treat like a Princess and spoil with gifts that they deserve… but i also want someone that will be agreeable to my darkest desires…” he rocked his hips back before slowly parting his thighs, and you felt the nudge of his tip at your soaked pussy; “... someone, a woman i can treat like a Princess but will let me fuck them like a whore… can i fuck your pussy like a whore?”

The gentle nudge of his dick just stretching the ring of muscle that granted access to the heaven between your legs had you begging, pleading to be August’s Whore. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he slowly sank into your pussy, bare and unprotected filling you with his virile shaft;

“You’re my Slutty Princess…taking my dick like a pro”

In that hotel room August Walker became your sugar Daddy, and over room service breakfast you agreed the details of your arrangement as you sat on his lap, his dick in your ass as he fed you strawberries, before he grew impatient and bounced you on his dick until he came in your barren depths. Resting back against his chest, his softening dick still inside you he played with your pussy as he discussed the next step, trying to decide if a trip to an adult store or a jewellery store should be the first stop after returning to DC;

“How about a jewelled plug?” you suggested; “That’s the best of both worlds”

Holding your jaw he turned your head so he could kiss you, pulling away and grinning;

“See, that’s why you’re the perfect Princess, smart and sexy…”

You felt him start to harden in your ass again, wriggling and letting out a giggle as you felt him stretch your insides;

“Over the table or out on the balcony in the rain?” you asked

“Oooh lets do the balcony… its check out time so a few other guests will be able to see my little slut have her battered asshole filled with another load”

There on the balcony that overlooked the serene mountains August filled your ass again, your naked bodies soaked with the rain as he gripped your breasts whilst he fucked you from behind. 

You couldn’t wait to be August’s play thing.

[footballfanfictions]

The thrill of the chase - Chapter One

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Warnings: None for now but you know me, I like a little smut here and there...

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

"If I have to edit and upload one more post about golden boy, I'm going to scream" I groaned, rubbing my temples. It's not even 10am on Monday morning and I already want to quit my job.

Brianna is sat on a chair, flipping through a magazine opposite my desk, and although her job doesn't require her to be in an office, she spends most of her time here.

"At least your job involves more than just washing and folding sweaty socks with your dad." She mused.

I rolled my eyes at her. She didn't quite get how annoying it is to be a graphic designer and social media manager that is only given the same images to work with over and over. My eyes flick back to my computer screen and the grinning Male on it. He isn't completely unattractive but him being a footballer and what all the praise he has been getting lately must be doing to his ego was enough to put me off. I would go as far as to say I disliked the guy.

"So if you don't like Mason, who do you watch from this window?" Bri was suddenly up on her feet and standing at my office window. It was floor to ceiling and had a good view of the training complex and sliding door access. The office had used to belong to Jose Mourinho both times he had been the manager here, shunning the actual managers office for one where he could see the pitches clearer. The first team trained about 5ft from where she was standing and if one of them were to look up from their drills they would see her staring out at them.

I pulled her away from the window by her arm.

"I don't sit here looking out of the window all the time, I have a job to do"

Occasionally, if I was on a particularly boring phone call I would let my eyes wander over to the window just to see what they were up to, but never watched any one player in particular. I didn't even know who some of the new faces were.

"Personally I think all the ones around our age are really hot -" Bri then started listing the names off and it sounded like she named the entire 23 man squad by the time she was finished.

We were then interrupted by a knock on my office door and Bri's father Dave stuck his head round it and said "sorry to interrupt girls but Bri and I have some kits to organise." He looked more amused than angry, being pretty used to his daughter avoiding her duties by now. "You wouldn't mind bringing us two of those fancy coffees of yours would you Katie?" He asked.

One of the other perks of having Jose's old office was the coffee machine. He had it installed and compared to the muck that came out of the cafeteria's coffee machines, it produced gold.

"Will do." I replied as Bri scurried over to her father and out of the door.

I decided coffee delivery was a good way to get out of having to stare at all the social media channels for a few minutes.

Once the coffees were made I tipped them from the plastic cups into two mugs from the cupboard beneath the machine, it felt nicer to take them to my friend and her dad that way.

It was tricky negotiating opening my office door with each hand occupied by a steaming hot mug, but I managed to nudge it open with a combination of my elbow and the heel of my shoe. I was just praising myself internally for getting the door open when something knocked into the side of me, tipping the contents of the mug into my right hand over whatever it had been.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry."

I looked up from the hallway carpet which I was worried was stained with coffee, into the smiling face of someone wearing a training kit.

"No that was me, shit sorry. Have I just poured boiling hot coffee all over the star striker or something? Marina will kill me." I put both of the mugs down on the floor and ran back into my office, coming back out a few seconds later with a wad of tissues. I tried to dab the stain on his top with the tissues but they were pretty useless and he knew it too because he put his hand over mine to stop me.

"Don't worry about it love, I'm not star striker, I'm just the left back."

He didn’t seem mad about having coffee thrown all over him. Being a footballer I was half expecting him to throw a fit and go all ‘do you know who I am?’. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave me the nicest smile.

“Please let me get you another training shirt at least? I was just heading to the kit room with the coffees.” I balled up the wad of tissues and put them in the bin in the hallway just to the side of us and picked the mug that I hadn’t dropped back up. Brianna would have to go without and it served her right really for avoiding her job for most of the morning.

“Alright then.” He agreed. “Lead the way, I haven’t been here long, so not sure where to go if I’m honest.”

“Oh right yeah, of course.” I pretended like I knew who he was and that he had only just signed, unsure of whether he could actually tell that I had no idea. He probably did know that as I asked if he was the star striker, when in fact he’s a left back.

He followed me silently down the corridor to the kit room. I knocked once before entering.

“Is that you Katie?” Dave called from inside.

“No, it’s Starbucks” I laughed.

He opened the door, a pair of socks slung over his shoulder.

“Cheers love, come in.” He said.

I looked back at the footballer behind me and gestured for him to follow.

“I had a bit of an accident on the way here Dave and ended up pouring Brianna’s all over…” I was about to ask his name when Dave cut me off.

“Ben Chilwell! I was so chuffed that you’d signed. It’s about time we got an English core to this team back. God Katie did do a number on your shirt didn’t she?” he laughed, clapping Ben on the back, before he went over to a stack of the blue and white training tops.

Ben. Yeah he looked like a Ben. Undeniably he was quite handsome. I saw Brianna out of the corner of my eye, she was sat gawping at him with her mouth half open.

I tried to gesture to Brianna that she needed to put her tongue back in her mouth. She seemed to get the hit and straightened the way she was sat, playing it cool. I tried not to laugh.

Dave passed Ben a fresh shirt, and I got a whiff of the freshly laundered scent as it passed in front of me.

“Thank you so much.” Ben said, accepting the new shirt gratefully. “I’ll try my best to watch where I’m going in the future.”

He gave us all a smile and apologetically said that he needed to get back to training before he left the kit room.

“Blimey!” Brianna sighed once he was gone.

“What?” I asked.

“Sorry that you have to hear this dad, but bloody hell he was fit. I’m disappointed that he didn’t want to change here.” we both started laughing and Dave shook his head, muttering a ‘you two’ under his breath before going back to matching the socks up.

“I’m going to go too, do you want to get lunch later Bri?” I asked, hoping that she would want to walk to the shops with me. I needed a few things and I wouldn’t have much time after work to go.

“Only if we’re getting it here because I want to be in the canteen when they all come in from training.” she was gazing toward the tiny window in the kit room dreamily as she spoke.

I rolled my eyes but agreed.

I spent the walk back to my office wondering if Ben Chilwell actually was as fit as Brianna was making him out to be.

Sitting back down at my desk, I logged back into my computer. I had new emails sat in the inbox. One of them happened to be pictures of the new players for me to edit. I had an edit of every player in the team that I had ready for match days. On a match day I would be in charge of adding time stamps for any goals and then uploading the goal scorer’s picture. Recently, more often than not I had been having to upload the same few pictures of Mason Mount and it was getting a bit boring. The fans loved it though, he was our most retweeted player and often I would read the social media comments, all singing his praises. Especially the young women.

———————————————————————————————————

By the time it got to lunchtime I was sick of photoshop. My program wasn’t running very smoothly, probably in need of an update and I had grown more and more frustrated as the morning went on, having to restart it twice.

Brianna came to my office just before 1 and waited for me to finish off my last edit and lock my computer.

“Good morning?” she asked. “Because no offence you look mega stressed and we don’t need that kind of vibe if we are going to be around fit footballers for the next hour.”

I wanted to eye roll for the millionth time but I cut her some slack. She had recently had a really bad break up and her ex had been a proper bellend. Unfortunately for Bri, she didn’t have the greatest amount of luck when it came to guys. Her ex had broken up with her for another girl and had then continued to hook up with Bri, who had stupidly let him until I had convinced her what a bad idea that was. She was clearly feeling really lonely.

“Someone will come along you know, it doesn’t have to be a footballer.” I said, putting my hand on her arm and squeezing reassuringly.

“But Liam supports Chelsea, so how mad would he be if I got off with one of his favourite players? He’d be begging me to take him back then.” she smirked.

“That’s not what you want though right? To get back with him I mean.” I opened the door and we started to walk down the hallway towards the canteen while we chatted.

“No, I just want him to feel the sting of rejection and know how it feels for once.” she shrugged.

When we reached the door to the canteen there was a young lad with mousey brown hair kind of hanging around. His face lit up at the sight of us and I was slightly taken aback by it.

“After you.” He said, opening the door for us. He had a really strong Scottish accent that I hadn’t heard before. I guessed he must be part of the youth team. He’d probably end up out on loan after loan and we’d never see him again.

“That was strange.” I mumbled to Bri.

She shrugged, walking over to the back of the queue to get food. I followed her and grabbed a tray for myself.

I reached into the chilled drinks cabinet and picked out an iced coffee placing it on my tray.

“Glad to see that isn’t a hot coffee!”

Turning my head to the side, I saw that it was Ben again, standing behind me in the queue and then just behind him, my favourite person of all, Mason Mount.

“Yeah I’m on a final warning about spilling hot drinks over footballers so I’m only allowed cold coffees from now on”. I joked.

“I’m sure Benj will keep you warm in the winter.” Mason piped up.

I tried not to curse under my breath that he was butting into our conversation.

“Mate.” Ben said to Mason, shaking his head.

“What? she is fitter than you said.” Mason bantered back, looking at me rather than Ben.

“Thanks but I don’t need validation from you.” I bantered back, before moving along to the next chiller and picking out a caesar salad and an apple.

I heard the word “feisty” from behind me, but couldn’t tell which one of them had said it as I caught Brianna up in the queue.

She gave me a puzzled look and I shrugged, simply mouthing the word ‘boys’.

As employees we didn’t have to pay for any of our food which was a nice perk of the job and saved me a lot of money in eating out and packed lunches.

We took our food over to one of the tables that we usually sat at whenever we used the canteen and we were joined as usual by some of the other members of support staff.

Brianna was filling them in on my mishap with the coffee that morning while I scrolled through twitter on my phone. I liked to check how our social media platforms looked from the perspective fo the intended audience.

“You’re such a workaholic” Bri scolded me.

I looked up and apologised, tucking my phone away into my pocket.

“You two are polar opposites” Jane, one of the physios said. “I do agree with Brianna to an extent about some of the new faces. If I were a few years younger…”

Jane was a bit like our work mother. She was in her mid 50s and happily married with two teenage boys of her own to contend with. Because she had never had any daughters, she took particular care of me and Bri and loved to join in with our girl talk.

“I don’t think it would be worth the hassle personally” I shrugged.

Jane grinned. “You’re so sensible Katie, and probably right. Young men with too much fame and money probably don’t make the best partners. I tried to say that about my Martin too, back in the day. He was in the army and you know what they say about them!”

We both looked at her waiting for her to give us the answer.

“You know, a girl in every base town.” she laughed. “I tamed him though. Maybe don’t write them off completely.”

I wasn’t sure that I wanted to attempt to find a partner at all. I had been single since things that fallen apart with my ex when we both left uni. At uni we had a lot more time for each other, despite the different schedules and studying. When I had started working for Chelsea I put everything that I had into my job, desperately wanting to make a good impression. Hundreds of people had applied for the position and I wanted to make them feel like they had made the right choice in hiring me. So long days in the office turned into long days and evenings in the office, especially when Chelsea had late kick offs. I just found it easier to be in my office with the radio commentary on, sending out the tweets as the goals went in.

“Katie, are you listening? You zoned out a bit again.” Jane said, waving her hand in front of my face.

“Sorry just thinking about my to do list” I mumbled, trying not to admit to them that I had been thinking about Rory again. Sometimes it isn’t the person that you miss, just the feeling of having someone.

“I was just making you aware that are three young men constantly looking over here.” she said, trying to keep her voice low.

I was curious so I looked, there were a few of them sat at the furthest table, but none of them were looking in our direction.

“Who?” I asked.

“Oh I don’t know the names, I just deal with the injuries.” she shrugged.

“Well that’s helpful then” Bri said, pouting. “I wanted to know which ones fancied me so that I could target my flirting.”

———————————————————————————————————

Ben

“Go and talk to her.” Mason encouraged me.

I shook my head, trying to focus on eating my food, although I hadn’t really been able to. I had just been using my fork to move it around my plate aimlessly.

“No.” I mumbled. “I barely even know the girl. She spilt her coffee on me then got me another training shirt.”

“Oh yeah.” Mason smirked. “Did she help you put it on too?”

“She got you a new training shirt?” It was Billy that spoke now. He looked really nervous and was pretty much doing the same as me, forking his food around rather than actually eating it.

“Yeah from that room with all the kits in” I responded.

“Oh.” he said quietly, looking down.

I caught on then. Billy had been ahead of us coming off the training pitch and I had seen him wait and then open the door for the girls with a big grin on his face. I had thought he was just being polite, but I now realised it was more than that. He had waited on purpose and obviously liked one of them.

“It was the brunette one. The little blonde was in the room too but it wasn’t here that me and Mase were talking about” as I explained I watched Billy brighten back up again. It was the other one that he fancied, not Katie, and for some reason I was relieved.

Mason caught on then too.

“Hang on, do you like that one or something? The kit man’s daughter?” Mason asked him.

He had raised his voice a bit in excitement so I gestured for him to speak quieter.

“Yeah only for the last few years, you know.” Billy responded, blushing a bit.

Mason would probably take the piss out of him for the rest of the afternoon and god forbid if Tammy or Jorginho found out, poor Billy would absolutely never hear the end of it.

“Have you ever tried to tell her?” I asked him.

“Only once, but I chickened out because I heard she had a fella” he shrugged.

“When was that?” I pressed.

“Couple of years ago, but then I kept being sent out on loan so couldnae’ really have asked her out any way” he sighed and put his fork down at the side of his plate.

I decided then that I was going to make it my mission to get Billy to ask that girl out. The worst she could say was no and he wouldn’t be any worse off than he was now. I could even use it to my advantage and casually speak to Katie about the two of them.

I looked over at her table again, she looked a little sad.

I had promised myself that I would focus on my career for a bit and not get involved with any girls for a bit, but here I was on day bloody one simping over a girl I’d only just met. I cursed myself for it.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Always By Your Side

Read here on AO3!

Summary: 

The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes.

“If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.”

“That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not the only reason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a semi-contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred.

(Disclaimer: THIS IS THE ONLY BAD PARENT!BRUCE FIC I WILL EVER WRITE OKAY I SWEAR I ALWAYS AVOID THOSE KINDS OF FICS BUT I’M SALTY THAT THEY NEVER ADDRESSED BRUCE PUNCHING TIM IN COMICS SO I HAD TO DO IT MYSELF.)

It doesn’t take long to break into Tim’s apartment. Record time, actually. In less than ten minutes Jason is sliding up the window to Tim’s kitchen and climbing over the sill, easy peasy. He should really talk to the replacement about his lack of security against fellow batkids. “Timbo?” he calls, closing the window and re-locking it. “You here?” He’d better have the right place. It’s so hard keeping track of everyone’s safehouses these days, and Jason is not eager for a repeat of what happened the last time he got it wrong. That old lady looked scared to death when Jason crawled in through the air duct, covered in blood that was only thirty percent his own. (The lady was super understanding when he explained the situation. She even fixed up his stab wound with her sewing kit and made him some freshly squeezed lemonade. Jason drops by every couple of weeks to check in on her and her cats.) But Tim is the priority now. “Come out, come out, you little shit.” Jason crosses the kitchen toward the living room, then stops and backtracks. He opens the fridge for a beer, momentarily forgetting that the kid is a hopeless health nut. Jason resigns himself to a package of deli ham only two days past the expiration date. It smells fine, so it must be safe to eat, right? Of all Tim’s apartments, this one is by and far the nicest, barring the expired deli meats and un-Jason-proof security system. The living room is pristine with white sofas and a glass coffee table, making the whole setup vibe more like a hotel suite than an actual home. Definitely not Jason-proof. He sits right in the middle of the fancy sofa, kicking off his boots. “If you get mud on my carpet, you’re cleaning it up.”

Jason looks up at Tim in the doorway and grins. “Don’t I always?” The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes. “If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.” “That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not the only reason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred. “Just leave whatever data you have here and I’ll look it over in the morning.” “Again, not why I’m here.” “Then can you just tell me whatever it is so I can go back to bed?” It’s five in the afternoon. “Well, jeez, kid. You don’t have to rush me out the door.” Tim’s eyes flit to the ground and stay there, giving the impression of a puppy put in his place. “Sorry.” Jason eyes Tim carefully. He takes in the timid stance, the way Tim wrings and twists the sleeve of his sweatshirt until it’s stretched beyond saving. He clearly hasn’t showered or even bothered tending to his face, like keeping the wound fresh is his way of punishing himself. “You doing okay?” “Fine, why?” “Because you look like shit, that’s why.” “It’s been a hectic few days. I’ve been meaning to crash for hours.” “How about that bruise you got there? Looks nasty.” Tim touches the bruise as if he forgot it was there, biting back a wince. “It’s fine. I got it on patrol and haven’t gotten around to icing it yet.” “Must have been a big guy to do that kind of damage.” Tim’s eyes narrow. Jason eats his ham, a picture of innocence. “If you’re trying to get me to circle around and ask you about your problems, then I’m sorry, but I’m really not in the mood to play therapist tonight. You can stay here as long as you want, but I’m going to bed.” He turns and starts toward his bedroom. “You’re really not going to tell me who gave you that bruise?” Tim stops, a shudder running down his spine. He doesn’t turn, not yet. “Did Barbara tell you?” “I can’t believe you didn’t. What, did you think this would all go away if you just kept quiet about it?” “There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing happened.” “My ass nothing happened. Bruce hit you last night. He hit you over nothing.” Tim whirls around, fists clenched. “So? I get hit all the time. Am I supposed to have a breakdown every time someone punches me?” “Getting hit by a criminal and getting hit by your dad are not the same thing, and you know it.” “I’m a big boy, Jason. I can handle it.” Jason leans forward, forgetting all about his rancid ham. “You realize how fucked up this is, right?” “Oh, give me a break—” “Hey. The adult is talking now. Our father nearly shattered your jaw a few hours ago and here you are, hiding from him like it was your fault.” Not that Jason blames him for not wanting to be near the manor after what happened; he wouldn’t either if he were in Tim’s place. Hell, he was in Tim’s place. “You weren’t there, Jay. You have no idea what happened.” “Oh, yeah? Enlighten me, then. What gives that asshole the right to put his hands on you?” “The fact that I shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place! Bruce was dealing with enough as it was without me making it worse.” “Only if you call trying to help someone ‘making things worse.’ From what Babs told me, you didn’t do Jack shit to deserve what he did.” “I don’t care what Barbara told you. I was there, I know what I did wrong, and I’ve accepted that.” “Except you did nothing wrong.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tim’s voice is raised, his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t see how upset Bruce was. He wasn’t himself. I should have seen that and backed off, but I didn’t. He was hurting and angry, and...I provoked him. It was my own fault.” “Do you have any idea how insane you sound? You tried to help him, and he punched you in the face for it. I know you’ve dealt with this exact situation a million times, you know the protocol.” Tim rolls his eyes. “This is completely different.” “Why? Because you’re not a minor? Because Bruce isn’t your father? Or maybe because you threw the first punch? Oh, wait. None of those are fucking true.” “What do you want from me? Do you want me to start crying, call up child services and tell them that my adoptive father gave me a little bruise because I was being insubordinate while we were all dressed as vigilantes? Will that magically ease your conscience?” “I want you to stop fucking covering for him,” Jason says. “You know that there’s no excuse for a parent hurting their child.” “I’m not a child!” “Sorry to break it to you, pal, but you fucking are! And Bruce? He’s your father. It doesn’t matter if you’re twelve or seventeen or thirty—his job is to be a fucking parent to you. And instead he punched you so hard Babs said you were unconscious for a good thirty seconds.” Tim crosses his arms and leans on the wall. He doesn’t try to come closer or sit on any of the furniture, keeping his distance from Jason. “You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Maybe those rules apply to normal people, but we’re different. Violence and anger, that’s how this family communicates. Hell, Bruce and I spar all the time and you’ve never lectured me about it being abuse until now.” Jason runs a hand over his face, thoroughly done with this shit. “I can’t believe you’re still trying to rationalize this.” “Because it’s a rational thing!” “Is it?” “Yes.” “Would you ever hit him?” “It wouldn’t be the first time.” “No, I’m not talking sparring or some stupid teenage angst-fueled outburst. I’m asking if you, Tim Drake, would ever intentionally hurt Bruce in a way that would do damage. Even if he did something shitty to deserve it. Would you hurt him?” Tim hesitates. He bites his swollen lip. “I might. If I were really angry.” “We both know that’s bullshit. The guy’s got a hundred pounds on you and your hand would probably shatter if you tried to sock him in the face, but you still wouldn’t hurt him.” “So?” “So, he knows you’re a twig and he beat the shit out of you anyway. That’s not fucking okay.” “It wasn’t on purpose,” Tim says, but he’s losing momentum by the second. He looks years too tired for this conversation as it is. “It was...instinct. A spur-of-the-moment reaction. It’s not—I mean, he’s Bruce. He would never hurt us intentionally.” “He already did.” “And I’m perfectly fine. It’s not like he punched Damian or Cass, just me. He knew I could take it, and he was right. I’m fine. This bruise will heal up in a couple days, and then we can all forget it ever happened.” “I won’t.” “Why not? Why are you being so goddamn uptight about this? It has nothing to do with you, anyway.” Jason can feel his eyes smolder Lazarus green as he surges forward and hisses, “It has everything to do with me.” Tim flinches. It’s not major, barely even counts as a real flinch, but it happens. Tim flinches away from Jason, and the anger dissipates as quickly as it came. Jesus, what did Bruce do to this kid? Jason sits back, takes a breath, tries to make his voice gentler. “Bruce hurt me too, okay?” Tim’s expression doesn’t change but for a twinge of his eyebrows. “It was a misunderstanding, but...he hurt me. Badly. I was out of commission for two fucking months. Probably would have died if it hadn’t been for Roy.” That gets a reaction. Tim’s mouth drops open and he flounders for a moment, like he can’t put the two things together. Bruce attacking Jason? No results. Does not compute. “What—why would he do that?” “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that, as irritating as you are, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” Like he has any right to be saying this. Tim still has the scar on his neck from when Jason’s brains were made of gruel. “Not by a parent. Not by someone you’re supposed to trust. So this is me looking out for you, alright?” Jason reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a crumpled paper. “I know you’ve got your own setup for when you need time away from the manor, but these are all of my addresses and phone numbers. If something like this happens again, I want you to call me.” Tim takes the paper but protests, “It’s okay, really. I don’t need—” “Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to be coddled. I get it. But keep it anyway. And if you start feeling unsafe at the manor, you call me and I’ll take care of it. I already gave Damian, Cass, and Duke copies too. Just...look out for yourself, alright? All of you. Look out for each other.” Tim folds up the paper and slips it into his back pocket. “What about you?” “The old man and I are…” That’s a whole other can of worms Jason really isn’t in the mood to unpack right now. “It’s still rocky between us. I’m keeping my distance. But for you guys, I don’t care. If one of you needs help, I’ll be there. Got it?” Tim blinks, and lucky for him, Jason is courteous enough not to make fun of the tears he is clearly holding back. “Thanks, Jay.”

[softsweetsuffering]

OC LIST (New)

Trey:

Has an ability to mimic or amplify abilities/powers of others, as well as telekinesis

Was previously part of a group of people who also had abilities, however after mistreatment and other issues within the group, he left.

He's got a good wealth behind him.

Extremely gentle

Handsome ;)

Loves photography

Has lavender hair

Respects all

'Secretly' Plays violin

Lowkey a sugardaddy

Hamrish Benat:

Has four eyes!

Pink and blonde hair

He loves parkour (as in climbing buildings and leaping around in gyms)

Has PTSD (There are two AUS of which I default as to how he obtained it)

Ready to deck a bitch

Trained nurse

Loves teddy bears and fuzzy pink socks.

Also goes by Hami/Hayden

Andy peters:

Strong, kind.

The quiet Big Type, doesn't always talk, but his heart is in good places.

Wishes he could do more

Buff + Tall

Wears a pair of dogtags.

Has red streaks in his hair for the fun of it

Is extremely brotherly to Adrian

is friends with Hami

Adrian Géarán:

Nervous Malnutritioned anxiety filled tired mess

Has emotionally linked fire abilities (does not like having them)

likes to make little robots!

Easily bullied

Missing an arm

Struggles with normal life

Blames himself for Andys death

Looks unintentionally vaguely like Fry from Futurama

Chris:

Leader of a summer camp for kiddos

Huge fan of the outdoors

Loves to garden

Red head with freckles

Healthy!

Good build, a little on the below-average male height

Likes to hike

Loves kids

Strong but pacifistic

Great smile

Surprisingly a little shy around other adults

Bisexual

Himbo energy

Douglas Connelly:

Just a regular chubby guy

His chub is only important because this man gives some of the best hugs, he's like a marshmallow

He is outwardly confident about his size, even if it sometimes worries him internally

He loves music, loves to groove in the kitchen while making snacks

Always open for roommates and new friends (one of his roommates is a hot bartender called Donovan)

A bit awkward but he tries his best.

Tucker:

Badass

Bunny hybrid (ears :3)

White hair

Likes to wear denim jackets

Fast runner

Has had experience working in the force

Izekiel Iris:

Bruised and abused in a facility

Was turned from human into A being of made of Paint (Useful? no. Fun? yes. Rainbow blood anyone?)

Loves painting

Wallflower

Easily anxious

Loves to draw on his own arms

Matthew Libelle:

Aka Matty Very delayed development wise as well as Autistic

Very much a texture lad, soft blankets are his thing.

Doesn't like loud sounds ( who does honestly).

Tries his hardest to function normally but it's hard.

Watermelon colours are his fav. Green hoodie is his fav.

Has watermelon pink hair.

Gale:

Eldritch bab

Was cursed by a group of guys who were messing with magics they didn't understand

Did in fact murder said group of guys and is traumatised by the idea he has become a monster

hears voices

Has Tendrils that have burst out of his back

Has the ability to move from this realm to the Eldritch planes and back. (is terrified of said planes)

Doesn't have a home

Black curly hair- frizzy- shimmers like Slick oil

Shy type kinda, tall Pale. cold.

Kinda wishes he could just go back to normal.

Would really like to eat some fresh warm bread.

Rowan maverick

Was abandoned as a teen

Also known as Rogue/Red.

Lost some of their tongues making them mute

Trained Assassin.

Previously part of a cult

Addict to painkillers (Caused by the mental issues from the cult and the loss of tongue.)

Bad with Physical affection

Could use a friend

Jace

Cop/Ex Cop.

Laid off after an incident

Has a pubby called Otis

Likes the occasional beer

Dad energy

Issac Merewen

Was previously a Teacher - grade 11/12s

Kidnapped and kept Drugged the hell up.

Was given the new name: Jess/Jack. AKA The Jester

Now has Amnesia problems .(Anomic aphasia)

Was stored Cramped in box.

Needs glasses. (Long sighted. Cant see Infront of him for shit without glasses. He specifically likes round ones :3)

Natrually Blonde

He was very inspired by the Chitty Chitty bang bang scene, “Doll on a music box”.

- He naturally has two different coloured eyes :D

-He likes podcast n occasionally audiobooks. Its good for learning/remembering words, and way easier than straining his eyes. Although it is upsetting occasionally when he can remember more of a book/podcast he’s into more than real words or real-life things.

Tyrone Li

Incubus.

Wise, Patient, caring.

Brown tattoos wind up his hips and torso, curling around his chest around his heart, and around his back, flaring at his neck.

Glasses.

Loves plants and flora

Sex lost meaning when he was younger. He wants true intimacy again but he wants to find the right person..

Glamors hide the following features:

Tail, brown that gradients into Green, Leaf like tip.

Horns, curled. (green tipped :0)

Glamors break usually after a certain period of time regardless of feeding, however, during bad situations/fight the body may unglamour to reserve the last of its energy.

Caspian:

Basically immortal but can die (Reincarnations)

Not a pacifist, but not instantly into violence

He was blessed by the Heart of the Ocean (Shes wonderful <3)

Can control water, can do minor healing with water

Can make water bubble/ boil when angry

Glowy veins when powers are active

He has had many many lives

Soft..caring..Doesnt remember alot of his past..

Doesn't know how many times hes died

Doesn't have alot of family or friends

Goes on many adventures

Elio Solren.

Nickname: Sunshine

Good lad.

Is a shapeshifter Dealt with being told he was happy and always upbeat. People leaving or ignoring him whenever he wasn't started building this sense of need to be happy all the time for others.

Lots of struggles with self image. Being perfect. Appeasing everyone. Poor self body love/self body image.

Is scared about The hate from humans about shifters. The jealousy and fear about them being able to hide behind other faces.

Smiles to hide the pain

Punk/hipster vibes

Intricate golden tattoos

Doesn't open up easily

Doesn't like to admit to being in pain

Kotori

AKA Corey

Owl lad!

Bright yellow piercing eyes. But is totally blind. (Face scars)

Loves music.

Plays the uke.. hums..sings sometimes.

Big wings- like barn owl.

Likes to perch in trees

Jeremey Caulfield

Winter baby

Was left bleeding in the snow at some point

Father Lovely old man (John)

Mother died (Ellie)

Birthday December 23h

Blue eyes

Black hair

Russel

Box boy

Glasses

Red hair

Real sweetheart

Really needs more dev ; ;

Jules

Loves tofu n chicken

Touchstarved

Stubborn af

Kicks ass!

Has Sass

Wears binders/sports bras for Lotsa running n such

Black hair big messy pigtails

Dark brown eyes.

Has a navy bear sleeps with it ‘doesn't care’ about it but does

Gymnast/kickboxing. Bandages around hands

Loved swinging bars since being a kiddo

Trampolines!!

Participates in Underground fight ring to make easy money

Sleeps on just a mattress

Has a laptop for study work but she's slowly giving up on bothering.

(She's not one originally but Werewolf Jules is one of my fav things)

Miles

Part mole, part orphan

Lives underground

Very light-sensitive

Is colourblind

Absolute nerd

loves tinkering with things

is scared of humans

very foggy memories of his parents.

Leilah/ Lei

Can make/control shadows.

Owns a Magic skull(Speaks to it)

Lives in the woods

Wears a skull to spook off people from her woods

Has Tattoos that are shadow/absorb shadows

Kinda bad at maintaining friendships

Emotionally Distant

Wears a cloak.

Bao Ketsuyki

Blood magic bab

Short

East Asian.

Pink/red medium length hair

Big pretty red flower scar from blood magic use on her shoulder/ back.

Little bit foolish, little bit reckless.

Has almost died a few times from her magic use.

Oran Audun

Pale

Punk

Irish

Plays Guitar

Writes in journal, occasionally song lyrics, occasionally little messy ink drawings.

Easy to aggravate (On edge) however is trying to learn how to meditate and be calmer

Covered head to toe in scars but still tries to find confidence in himself. He doesn't find it unattractive, but he feels like others have no need to witness his scars.

loves wearing leather/fabric wrist bracelets

Unwelcome hands have used his body as a research object

Very very against physical contact, needs to break into it.

Ray

Social worker works mainly with kids.

Has a Shy guy tattoo.

His family consists of a Good ma, younger sister, and super baby brother

Dad died but dad was good.

Dirty blonde hair, kinda messy

Short, 5’

Socks the pupper is his helpful lil buddy (hes so round and white and fluffy)

Super dad vibes.

Owen

a hockey player n gymnast.

His mother died when he was about 9.

has an older brother who is a bit of a big jock type

quite protective and caring of his two much younger siblings.

ended up in a nasty scuffle though at some point during his more competitive years in Hockey

This leads to following his passion for Gym

Pole vault, the rings, trampoline.

Still plays hockey among mates or strangers on the weekends in the cold months tho

Ends up taking a position as a gym teacher for kids after taking a childhood course since he was so good at it.

actually a really sweet guy

Soft but likes his sport and jokes.

He can hold his own somewhat more than he appears.

has blue tips/stripes in his blonde hair.

He often wears varsity jackets or baseball tees. As well as a couple other sport wear shirts. (A. Good few are from his bro ofc. Free merch)

He's short but he's got a fairly decent build on him.

He's got a surprisingly good tackle if you aren't careful. And a good grip strength.

Nohea

but everyone calls him Noah.

Works at a Boba tea cafe..

likes to surf.

has an Epic board.

Back and shoulders all littered with lines and tic tac toe-like scars.

he's the type to brush off any questions and change topic while smiling. But not super bubbly. Just. Go lucky.

has a few friends who like to hang out at the cafe

Was in a surfing accident that involved a lot of rocks.

Ila

4’8 Soft. Short.

Ready to protect.

Loves to bake!!!

Smells like a vanilla cupcake most of the time

Isn't afraid to fight although isn't trained

likes Yoga ( and yoga pants)

Needs glasses but doesn't wear them (tsk tsk, unless tryign to read recipes)

Dyes hair silver/white

Jake

Homeless

Snake hybrid can transform his lower half from human legs to tail

Also has fangs, and therefore venom

He's got a lot of sass

Can be a bit of an asshole but soft around the right people

Isn't used to kindness

doesn't cry easily

Steals food

Mac Hiato

Also known as Caf

5’6

Very Grumpy.

Very often has bags under his eyes.

Hoodie is life

Insomnia has serious trouble sleeping.

Has nightmares of strangulation

Occasionally sufferers sleep paralysis

Scared of dark- night lights

Owns a mouse called Bean

Does freelancing webdesgisn/coding as job.

Sits like a gay.

Lives on coffee

Minorly Lactose intolerant

Has One bad eye

Neema

Egyptian

Mechanic

Her dad's a mechanic and used to bring her to work all the time

dead mum: which affected her ability to emote.

Works part time at the garage

Dad likes to bring gifts on their small catch-ups that happen every once in a while.

Sheeee. Suffers a bit of resting bitch face.

she's kinda stunted emotionally because she was raised by her dad, who, isn't great with emotions himself being a man's man and all.

She's very much a tomboy gal. Doesn't exactly get dressed up. because she finds it tiresome and not "her".

Also if she did/does have friends the nickname Nemo 100% crops up because it's sadly alll too fitting but also kinda sweet.

She's actually really into cars and mechanics. Which is one of the few good reasons her dad and her are close.

She's hard to get to know, very quiet. And if you're someone who dominates the conversation she won't speak up much, but you'll be surprised to how much she's listened.

Just because she looks tired and done doesn't actually mean she feels that way.

Samson (Lemonade boi)

His name is Samson, but he prefers Sun/Sunny. (Other more affectionate nicknames include Lemondrop and Sunflower.)

He really likes going out to markets and stuff like that, little stalls or knick knack shops to find the odd kinda items.

He also really likes wandering big forests. (Hes got some o that fae energy) He collects various cool stones/rocks/plants from some of them. He also has some small vials from waterfalls and ponds he’s encountered)

He wants to practice magic to become a witch! He loves the candles and rocks and other cool things that come with the craft. (He inherited things from his father)

He really likes loose fitting shirts too, like flowy things, ones with sleeves that drape past your fingers, or has extra fabric on the bottom that dangle down past hips. (Sometimes they come from the ladies section just because they’re softer and have more variety. Others from op shops and other niche little stores.)

He bought a cologne from a witch that looks cursed but the only curse is that it makes the one who puts it on smell like citrus..so not much of curse. (The bottle looks fuckin neato tho)

He looves fizzy drinks. Doesn’t mind his alcohol either, however it takes a surprising amount to get him on his ass despite looking like a serious lightweight.

He’s pretty average in build, bit of muscle in his arms, some fat on his thighs. Slight pouch of a tum (cause no ones flat and thats unrealistic :<)

He’s about 5′4. So not tall, but not the shortest of the short.

He kinda likes to backpack about. Not staying in places long if they get boring. Which means he is kinda jack of all trades when it comes to work, offering to fix things for pay, lots of casual work doing various things.(One of his favorites was helping a little old lady run a paint shop.)

He occasionally snorts when he laughs and tries not to.

He has his ears pierced, and he has a little yellow gemed stud in his nose.

The ring around his neck he found in the middle of a patch of mushrooms.

He has a couple other tattoos. One of them is of bubbles up his wrist :3 He also has some stars on his ankle, and a sunflower on one of his fingers on his left hand.

He’s not super in to gardening but he does have his lemon tree. He also wants to grow some mandarins

His eyes look silver in a lot of lights, but occasionally there’s some strange hints of yellow, and other times blue.

He has freckles!!!! that look alot like bubbles ;)

He has a twin brother called Fraser.

Scrunches his nose

Hides his laughter behind his hand

[littleangel4996]

My Fate pt 4

The face you can't say no to

Summary:  You find Michael standing in front of the one house that everybody died in and what he asks you...Wells let's just say you were like fuck no

Warning: Breaking and Entering Murder House, language, you unlock a power of you're own, captured

Y/n's P.O.V

It's been 3 days living with Michael and we've have been pretty well. There were bad times where Michael would leave his clothes on the bathroom floor, fights about taking turns in the shower or watching TV, toothpaste in the sink, drinking from the juice/milk container etc etc etc. But we've learned how to talk it out and taking turns. I was just coming home from dropping off an application for teachers aid at an elementary school that's 30 minutes away from the house. The lady, named ms.Solomons said she would give me a call this week or next. I fished my phone out of my pocket skirt to check the time and see if anybody called till I saw Michael standing outside of an very old house.

“Michael?” I called out but he stood there like a statue. My eyes followed what was Michael gazing at. An old classic Victorian house that looked like it was built in the 1920’s.

“They call it murder house” I turn my attention to Michael as he turns his head towards me.

“My grandma told me a story about it. 36 deaths have occurred and been documented in the house from 1922 to 2011."

I never knew that. Well how could I know, I lived in New Orleans my whole life and this is the first time I'm living in LA.

“ Michael, maybe we should go inside”

“To murder house” he asked almost excited. Serious infact. I hope that was a joke. “No, I meant our house" I pointed.

"Okay maybe later tonight after dinner" he asked.

"No way" I scolded.

"Oh come on (y/n) please, I really-" I cut him off putting my hand up.

"No, no no no no no no no and end of discussion. I had enough madness for almost a week, so let's go!” I grab him by the hand as walked to our home. Plus that place is gated. Yes I know how to pick locks but I still don't want to take the chance of me and Michael getting in trouble or worse, killed.

-

Tonight it was homemade lasagna with Cesar salad and garlic bread. I called Michael down for dinner as he strides over to the kitchen.

“Oh great my favorite. You are an awesome chef” Michael complimented me, I know something smells fishy going on and I don't like it. I hope Michael doesn't bribe about the house again. I take my seat across from Michael as we dig in.

“Is this lasagna homemade” he asks with food stuffed in his mouth. Yep I knew he was going to do this, he's going to talk me into it.

“Yes Michael it is. I know what you're doing it's not going to work” I tell him as I take a bite as he takes a bite of the garlic bread.

“ You know there are ghosts living there” he eggs on and I rolled my eyes.

“Michael, end of discussion now eat”.

“Fine..prude” he huffed. Did this shit head just call me no fun? So I threw a crouton at him as he looked at me dead in the eye having Selene hissing at the both of us and we went back to eating. He started it.

-

After we finished cleaning the kitchen he still kept pegging on about that goddamn murder house next door. I've made it clear to him if he talks to me about murder house one more time I'm making him sleep outside of the backyard.

Michael knows I won't do it but still he keeps it up I'll turn him into a mouse if I have to. Hey Selene is a cat and Michael would be the mouse...Tom and Jerry. I laughed at just the thought of that a little. Picking up the brush as I sat in front of the mirror brushing the knots out of my (h/l) (h/c) hair after blow drying it. Selene hops on top of my vanity table, purring against me as I give her kisses on top of her snowy white head.

KNOCK KNOCK

Probably Michael going to bother me about murder house. I slammed my brush down, marching my way to the door and opening my door harshly.

I expect to see Michael in his pajamas but instead he is dressed in all black hoodie, jeans and boots. Is he planning on going to that house alone? He can't be serious, can he?

“May I please come in” with seriousness in his voice. I nodded my head as he walks into the room where he takes a seat on my bed along with him.

All was heard were silence until I spoke first.

“ Michael, why do you want to go to that house so bad? Is it about what your grandma told you about the history of that house?” Michael kept his gaze on the wooden floor, hands on his lap.

“Michael, please.” I place my hand on top of his as he looks up at me. I need to understand why you feel like you need to fulfil that duty”.

He says “ I believe my grandma is in that house.” I made this quizzical look at Michael.

“ But Michael you don't even know if your grandma died, she could be in Hawaii drinking pina coladas not giving a damn about you”.

“You don't understand, (y/n)” he pinched the bridge of his nose already irritated. 'well join the club Mikey'.

“ On what? please enlighten me because I am dying to hear this!” I snapped.

“I SAW HER ALRIGHT” he shouted. I’m not so sure if I heard this one right but did he just said that he “saw her” like in the flesh saw her. “ Michael are you sure you saw what you saw?”

“You’re a witch right” he retorted.

“ Michael just because I’m a fucking witch that doesn't mean i've spoken nor seen ghosts” I retorted back. But I get what he's saying, I would want to know if anyone I known are either dead or alive.

“Plus this was my grandma's bedroom, the fireplace was always her favorite part of her room,” he said. Goddamnit, I can’t believe I'm going to do this.

I got up from my bed walking to my dresser taking out socks, pants and a long sleeve.

“ Michael get out I need to change please.” Michael turned around with a smile plastered on his face and eyes litting up.

“So that means-”

“GET OUT BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND!”

-------

The time was 10:45 pm and so far the neighborhood is clear. God, Michael better appreciate this because I just might get killed.

We stopped in front of the house. Just by looking at it gives me the creeps, it's even more creepier during night time. I look around my surroundings to make sure it's clear. I wouldn't like it if my neighbors found out that i'm a witch, even though Ms.Goode addressed to the world about witches.   

“Okay Michael, I need you to take my hand”

He turns around with a questioning look as I annoyingly sighed.

“In order for me to get into that goddamn fucking murder house I need to teleport us inside”. He finally got the memo, holding on to me as I concentrate on where I want to land.

As I take a hair pin out of my hair, fiddling with the lock. I could use my magic to unlock the door but it's only one lock so it shouldn't be a problem plus anything simple doesn't always needs to be solved by magic.

"Can you just unlock it with your magic. You know, it'll go a little bit faster" .

"Patience is a virtue" Michael is anxious I know, hell I'm scared out of my pants but I felt so bad for Michael and wanted to do this for him.

'just a little more and-'

WHAM

I jumped, covering my mouth from screaming when Michael kicked the door open.

Giving him my death glare he did a kind gesture as he bowed saying " After you m'lady" and I walked trying to stay angry at him but I couldn't. The house was so dark and dusty I felt like I was going to sneeze. Plus it felt really cold, cold as death. Why did I agree to come here oh why didn't I put my foot down and said that beautiful word "No"?

Oh I know why because Michael guilt tripped me that's why. Michael tapped me on the arm and saw he had a flashlight in his hand passing it to me as I thanked him, turning on the light.

The inside of the house looked more beautiful than the outside of the house, damn I think would have picked this one instead if it weren't for the bad vibes I'm getting, the very spooky kind.  

"Hey, let's go there" Michael's ready to storm to the right room but not before I caught him by the hoodie, dragging his goofy ass over here.

"Look, I already feel the dark presence of this spooky pretty house. So we must stick together, capiche?!" I whispered harshly and Michael nods his head looking almost hurt.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want anything bad happening to you Mikey, I've known you for 3 days and I don't want you out of my sight." I finished. Michael gives me a sheepish smile as we moved on to what I believe is the living room. Every piece of furniture and sofa had been covered, except for that record player and laid a bottle of whiskey, pills, and a bright red lipstick. That's odd. Michael strides over examining the things on the coffee table.

" This was my grandma's favorite lipstick" he picks up the make-up product handing it to me.

I take it then something weird started happening like I was pulled to a different timeline.

There was an old caucasian woman who had short beehive blonde hair wearing a blue flowy dress dancing as the music was playing in the background, applying red to her lips and swallowing the pills with whiskey. Oh my God. Wait, oh no that's...that's Michael's grandmother.

Third person's P.O.V

Michael's friend stood there like she saw a ghost, shaking. He said her name to get her attention then put both of his hands on his shoulder and shook her lightly to make her snap out of it. Finally she came back to earth.

"(Y/n) are you ok, what happened?" He asked, worried that something triggered her.

"Michael this was my first time seeing the past. Oh my God Mikey I'm sorry" she choked a sob.

"You're grandmother, I believe she killed herself"  

"What?" He gasped. But before they can continue their conversation, someone attacks them from behind covering their mouths with a handkerchief as the two breathed in the smell of chloroform. They finally lose consciousness as their unknown kidnappers drag them up the stairs to the Masters bedroom for now and when morning comes the complicated couple will interrogate the trespassers for breaking into their home.

A/n: uh-oh. Finally here's part 4.

I have 2 questions for you guys

Should I re-edit My fate pt 123?

2. How do I make a master list?

@barbie-solecism

@sodanova

@wvntersldr

@kylolangdon

@theghostoflangdon

@miskwaadesiwag

@whysosadmcfly

@creativedogs

@kaccatus

@goddess-of-inferno

@captainskyline

@gracethegeek9902

@castiel-saved-me-from-myself

@amortentiaxo

@langdonsdemon

@poisedphantom

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme

If you like to be tagged please let me know and if you change your user name and I only have your old one please let me know as well.

[percywinchester27]

Unconventional Roommates (Epilogue)

Word count: 2.6K

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Series Summary: Now that his brother is at Stanford, for the first time in his life, Dean does something for himself. He takes a step towards chasing his own dreams and moves away from Lawrence to start college, which is both thrilling and scary at the same time. Only catch, in this unknown town, he is stuck with the MOST infuriating female on the planet- the roommate from hell!

A/N: Here we are! Thank you, guys. Your love kept me going <3

This couldn’t have been possible without the incredible @deanssweetheart23. Thank you so much for everything, Athina. You rock, my princess <3

Unconventional Roommates masterlist

"This is a horrible fricking idea!" Dean grumbled, getting out of the car.

Y/N merely smirked, and Dean had to admit that the expression had never looked so alluring on anyone else. "You're just nervous. This is the coolest thing I've ever done."

Dean adjusted his tie. She looked so happy that he would have done anything to keep her smiling like that. This wasn't a big deal as it is. He was only nervous because he had never done this before, and also because he was about to walk in with the best girl he knew.

Incidentally, the reason for Y/N's excitement was same as his nervousness. She had never done this before either.

The building was colored in flashing crimson and purple lights which reflected on Y/N's face. Dean couldn't help but be reminded of the fair, when they were stuck in the Ferris wheel. She had looked beautiful then, and she looked beautiful now. The black wig that she was sporting suited her perfectly, so did the dark lipstick. She looked something else.

Just before they could enter the hall, Dean caught hold of her hand and pulled her back.

"Have I told you that you look absolutely stunning?"

Y/N looked down, smiling shyly. It would still take him time to get used to her reacting like that instead of glare down at him like she was about to pull out a butcher's knife.

"You don't look bad yourself, Romeo!"

"Are you kidding me?" Dean complained, touching his slick black hair. "I look like a clown."

"No you don't," she said, running her hand over the lapels of his coat, fussing over him. "You look hot." She licked her lips. "I'd kiss you, but I don't wanna ruin the look with my lipstick."

"Screw the look," Dean said, reaching out for the small of her back and pulling her close. "I don't give a damn about the look."

He leaned in, but she put a finger to his lips. "If you kiss me now, we'd have to go right back home to finish what we started, and I don't want to miss tonight. It's such a big day for you."

Dean could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. She was so proud of him.

It wasn't a big deal. They were launching the paper today, but they all did it every month. For him, though, this was the first time. They had loved his pictures so much that a couple of them were being used in tonight's Halloween party as a backdrop with some Halloweeny stickers. Y/N had been delighted to know about that. It was right after telling her that, that Dean had asked her out to the party.

She had been excited about it from the get go, especially the dressing up part. Dean found it amusing that she was so excited about dressing up even though she did it for a living. That was until he found out what she was planning to dress up as. Honestly, he shouldn't have expected any less of her. She had somehow convinced him to dress up as Gomez Addams, complete with the temporarily colored black hair. He might have to take a couple of days to wash it off completely, but again, her happiness was so palpable that he didn't want to take it away. She was ravishing as Morticia.

All things considered, it was still better than her idea of dressing up as Ted Bundy and Clementine Barnabet. Dean had to talk her out of it. He loved that she was still wearing the printed socks that he had gifted her. The skull beanie had been a constant up until tonight.

As the day approached though, despite her initial reaction, Y/N seemed to grow a little anxious about it. Not enough to curb her enthusiasm, but definitely enough to not fully enjoy it. They had had fun with putting together the ensembles. For the past week, since their evening on the beach, Dean had woken up at ungodly hours to catch Y/N's closing act of the night. All eyes in the club hungered for one look at her, but her eyes only searched his, and Dean felt like his chest widened a couple of inches each time.

After each show, he'd wait behind the curtains to welcome her when she came back, not believing that the Nymph was his. The other girls were happy for Y/N. They were all around her age, but she had mentored almost all of them. It made him clearly see her for who she was- a giver. She did so much for the girls who could very well end up being her own competition, and she did so much for all those little girls in Mia's school, too. Seeing her interact, he also realized that she was a natural teacher, she loved to share what she knew, selflessly.

They scourged through the fancy costumes at the Elixir, trying to try out funny hats and coats, entertaining the girls who had been exhausted after entertaining people all night long. Y/N's eyes shined when she saw him accepting her life and everyone in it so easily. She kissed him harder that morning in the car.

They did find the perfect costumes for Gomez and Morticia, too, there.

Other girls passing them were dressed as nurses or hot assistants, making the most of the opportunity to wear revealing clothes without it being questioned and more credit to them, but there was something very endearing about Y/N's childish excitement about dressing up in two full length layers.

"C'mon!" He grinned, pulling her by her arm, but she didn't move.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?"

Dean huffed. "Now you're having cold feet about this? After you made me spend 2 hours in the bathroom trying to get the hair right?"

"No… Dean," she said, voice abruptly serious. "It's not that, I mean…"

"Hey," Dean put his hand against her soft cheek. "You alright? You're not feeling sick, are you? I told you not to overdo the shifts. In fact, you can take it easy now. Anyway you're quitting the job next month when all your installments for the apartment are paid."

"Dean. Listen." She put her hand over his… the one she was already holding. "Do you want to be seen here with me?"

"Y/N!"

She was quick to put up her hand. "Look… I'm not doubting you. You're like God's personal blessing who just happened to creepily drop into my apartment, but not everyone is as accepting as you. Someone might recognize me… and I'm used to all sorts of slurs, but you're not. I don't want to put you through that."

Her voice had consistently risen, and her eyes were widening with every said word.

"Shhh… Just stop panicking," he said, pulling her against his chest. "You're missing the whole goddamned point here. You think I'd be ashamed if someone said anything about you? Don't you get it by now that I'm just beyond thrilled to be with a fantastic person like you? The first night when I found you at Elixir, I didn’t leave because I was mad at you, I left because seeing me there was distracting you. I thought you knew that."

She shook her head. "I do know that, and I know you won't be ashamed… I thought you'd be more like… angry."

"If someone called you a bad name?"

She nodded meekly against his silky black lapels.

"We could always make them a customer in our newly furnished torture room," he shrugged. "Bet that will teach them to talk crap about hard working people."

She laughed, breaking completely free of the dismal Morticia façade. "You're crazy."

"Says you!" He said smiled, pecking her cheek. "That's very rich, don't you think?"  

This time she let him take her in.

If it was a rainbow disaster outside, the inside was how the fairy world would look in the scene of an Armageddon. It was insane. Dean didn't know where to put his eyes. Wasn't Halloween supposed to be incredibly gloomy? Why was it so colorful?

"Hold me!" Dean said, grabbing Y/N by the shoulders. "I think my retinas are screaming for a savior."

"Shut up, it's not that bad," she admonished. "Besides, bright flashing lights are supposed to make you bold and all that. People dance without stopping to think what they look like."

"Seems fair." Dean looked at the centre of the floor where couples were trying to dance along the jazz tune.

"You wanna go out there?" She jerked her neck towards the floor.

"What? No!" Dean said, flustered. "I can't dance to save my life."

"It's not that hard… come, I'll show you."

He rolled his eyes. Of course she could.

Y/N pulled him towards the dance floor, but still away from the centre. She guided his hands to her waist and put both of hers on his shoulders. "Now you just sway from one side to another. See? Like this."

"I'm just gonna step on your dress and pull us both down," he warned trying to follow her. It wasn't fair that she was doing it so effortlessly and he was left to struggle.

"OMG, Y/N!" Hannah exclaimed, walking up from behind. "I didn't know Dean was gonna bring you along! You both look great."

Hannah was dressed like a Vampire… at least that's what Dean made out of the fangs and blood crusted lips.

"Cas, Meg!" She called out. "Look, Dean's here and he bought Y/N along."

Soon enough Dean's other two friends were there. Meg was wearing a red and black bodysuit with horns and tail, while Cas was dressed in a white suit with attached feathered wings, a halow perched on top.

"Angel and Demon?" Y/N asked. "That's very original."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea," Cas said, pulling her into a half hug. Dean wasn't really sure Y/N was the hugging type, but Cas just gave the vibe.

"You turned out to be way more badass than we gave you credit for," Meg grinned, nudging Y/N in the shoulder. "And there we were wondering how you could rock that limbo so hard."

It was hard to tell in the flashing lights but Y/N seemed to blush.

The DJ changed the song to a more upbeat one Meg pushed Y/N towards Dean, "C'mon, you guys, move it!"

"You wanna move it?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows, grinding against him. Dean laughed but before he could reply, his eyes fell on Nick who was eyeing them from the sides.

"C'mere!" Dean pulled Y/N tightly against him, one hand sliding down her back to grab her ass, the other fisted in her hair, holding her to him. He brought his lips to her temple, kissing her softly, then deliberately dragged it along her cheek and down to the base of her neck. Sucking a mark exactly where he knew affected her the most. Y/N's moan was both muted and involuntary.

"Dean!" She giggled. It wasn't something she did often, but Dean loved the sound. He didn't stop there…. He let his lips travel along the column of her neck, hands roving all  over her back.

Y/N's fingers gripped his coat tightly, her chest rising and falling against his own. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Nick had disappeared.

"Who are you putting on a show for, Winchester?" She said, reaching up to kiss his lips, not caring about the lipstick anymore apparently.

"No one of importance," Dean shrugged. "You mind putting on a show?"

"Nope… not at all. I do that for a living."

Dean didn't care if he had put Nick in his place, or not. Nick had sure tried to ruin it all for Dean, but ultimately hadn't it worked in his favor after all. For all he cared, Nick could go screw himself. He had Y/N, there would never be a bigger victory than that.

"So about Thanksgiving," Y/N said, "I can't really cook a turkey. I mean we invited all these people, and I can't cook to save the world."

"It's okay, we'll figure something out," Dean replied. "There's like a million cookbooks out there. Besides we can always order, and everyone is getting something or the other. If the turkey sucks, we can eat the mashed potatoes."

"But counting Mia and the girls, Sam and Jess, Cas, Meg and the couple of girls from the club, there's like 12 of us. Our apartment isn't big enough."

"Y/N. Stop panicking!" They had both stopped dancing by now and were just holding each other's hands. "We have almost a month to go. By then you'd have signed the papers for the building and we can do it in the basement."

She still didn't look convinced.

"Hey," Dean lowered his face to look into her beautiful eyes. "Even if they don't like the turkey, the newly minted torture equipment will keep them from saying anything." He winked.

"Seriously, Dean," she said, "I've never done this before. I don't know how to talk to people… what to talk to people about. I just- this feels so normal and I've never had normal before."

His heart broke for her. She wanted this and yet she was so scared of the unknown.

"You know the girls, Y/N. And Meg and Cas are friends. They like you. You know that!"

She nodded absent-mindedly. "What about Sam and his girlfriend?"

Dean scoffed remembering the conversation he'd had with his brother. "Sam thinks you're way out of my league. And Jess? I've met that girl. You don't need to talk, she'll talk enough for everyone in the room."

"Mhmmm…"

He pulled her back against his chest and they started moving in slow circles again.

"You'll have your dream, Y/N. We'll have a studio downstairs and Mia can live here. You can study something else at the University in the day and I'll get a job in a few years down the line. We can eat crappy food, play scrabble on weekends and have long walks on the beach. That is normal, right?"

"That doesn't sound too bad," she mumbled, and her voice was so hopeful, Dean was tempted to take one look at her face to know what she was really thinking.

"Do you want to head home?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "Let's stay a while. This feels normal and I like it."

She put her head back against his shoulder as swayed on the same spot. Dean didn't know what tomorrow held. Hell, all of this was so new to him that he couldn't even estimate what the next minute was going to bring. But as long as he was with Y/N, he knew he could do it. He could do anything. Dean was happier than he had ever expected to be in his life.

He was learning what he loved, his brother was happy and doing good in life and there was an incredible girl in his arms.

To say he was content would be an understatement.

He was fucking ecstatic.

Dean bent down to kiss Y/N's forehead. He could get used to it…. in fact, he would be the luckiest guy in the whole wide world, if this unconventional life became his normal.

*************************

A/N 2: This is it, guys! We are done with one more series. My immense gratitude to everyone who has commented, sent asks, and words of love. It’s meant more to me than I can ever tell you. Thank you so much!! Much love <3

So, did you guys like it???

A/N 3: Please do consider reblogging my work and leaving feedback. Reblogging helps spread it, and also helps against the “best posts first” option tumblr has. The more the notes, the less chance of it getting buried beneath others posts. And the comments are what keep me going. I love you guys and I’ll be in forever grateful <3

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@deanssweetheart23  @captainradicalpassion  @docharleythegeekqueen  @sleepless-sin    @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester  @ohgodwhybloggg  @roxyspearing  @oneshoeshort  @theofficialduke  @wildlandfox  @mrswhozeewhatsis  @emoryhemsworth  @dslocum89  @justacinnamonroll  @fanfreak07  @dustycelt  @serienjunkiegirl   @thinkwritexpress-official  @babykalika2001  @daskleinevolk  @jayankles  @blacktithe7  @pensysto  @iyannamckague  @shamelesslydean  @crystallstaircase  @melonberri  @commander-meghan-shepard  @trenchcoat-angel  @smiling-meerkat  @sprnaturallover  @violinbetty  @fandom-trash-worth-it  @grace-for-sale  @katsanders  @samwinchesterfanfic  @bluestarshining  @torn-and-frayed  @adaliamalfoy  @anathewierdo  @gabavaldman  @brindz30  @heavymetalhauswife  @sdavid09  @hatemeup  @plaidstiel-wormstache  @deannawinchesterpie  @kit-kat-katie99  @jessieray98  @mlovesstories  @thing-you-do-with-that-thing   @directionernullneun  @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou  @theoriginalvicki  @angelessquirrel  @thereisnolumos  @julie121899  @mikid2000  @freekryptonitecloud  @padasteph-nie  @luna-plena-venandi  @tiffy119  @linki-locks11  @mirandaaustin93  @pjofangirl18  @hunterswearingplaid  @cookiechipdough  @superlock-on-pc   @daughterleftbehind  @abumbling-bee  @savanna1899  @imweirdandobsessed  @emilycollins11  @diariesofthebeautyobsessed  @bakabozza  @imascio08  @luvspnandphan  @stormisamystery  @atc74  @aiaranradnay  @bellastellaluna  @deansgirl215  @xristina-gkika  @almostelegantfire @infinity-dreamchaser  @roonyxx  @ericaprice2008  @akshi8278  @leatherandapples @ceisbill  @alwaysdreamingforthebest

[hvndcvffed]

“ let me just –– can you –– uh. ”  grizz clears his throat and raises a finger. because this? oh, boy. stomaching this shit without laughing mandates a breather.  “ hold that thought for a moment while i collect myself. s’been quite the day and i want to give you my undivided attention. ”

or, alternatively :  yo yo yo, party people ! guess who finally made it ?  i’m lev / linc ( she/her/hers ) , comin’ atchu from the ever so lovely est timezone with ya boy, the tru ledge, grizz visser! click on that read more to read some headcanons i’ve got goin’ for west ham’s resident handcuff-owning, intellectual beb !

[   g    r   i   z    z        v    i     s     s     e    r    ––    B O Y   O N   F I R E .

✔ ┊❝ ( nick robinson. 18. he/him &. cismale ) rumor around town is that gareth “grizz” visser was on one of the buses that left for the field trip. they’re the eighteen year old that resides in new ham. over the summer news spread that he purposely botched his chances to win a football scholarship to a local uni because he applied to several ivies behind his parents’ backs, but who knows if that’s true or not? what we do know is that their friends describe them as well-read & piquant, but who knows when they’re known to be elusive & misanthropé from time to time. 

( &&. general information )

full name: gareth visser

nickname(s) or alias: grizz

preferred name: grizz –– call him gareth and he will... not be happy.

current age: eighteen

astrological sign: leo

gender: cismale

preferred pronouns: he/him

sexual preference: homosexual ( but closeted )

romantic preference: demiromantic

home environment: a quaint three-bed / two-bath house with his parents. a positive, almost sickeningly sweet home: family portraits all over the place, cheesy “ home is where the heart is ” décor all around from his mother’s many trips to pier 1 imports.

current occupation: student, student athlete.

language(s) spoken: english, french, a tad of latin. wants to learn more hebrew, but that shit is complicated as heck.

native language: english.

current relationship status: single.

( &&. background )

reason behind name: y’know, he’s asked his parents this countless times. why gareth? why. gareth. and each time he’s just gotten the same vague response: they liked it. it sounded respectable. ack.

birth order: only child.

ethnicity: american. west ham born & raised, baby!

nationality: american.

religion: agnostic. goes to church with his mother as a way to keep the peace, but... the idea of a god out there saying homosexuality’s a sin gives him a bad taste in his mouth. he’d rather discount his whole existence and uphold morality than accept that there’s a bigoted big guy in the sky. sees the bible more as a literary exercise to instill human value. did jesus really walk on water? heck no. but it makes a good fable.

political views: very, very liberal. doesn’t subscribe to labels, but as close to democratic socialist as you can get in this country without causing riots. anti-brexit. anti-trump. anti-bullshit, basically. maybe socialism or communism done right wouldn’t be a terrible idea.

financial status: very, very comfortable. his parents earn well and know how to save / spend frugally. the vissers are modest in living so they can pour more into experience. for grizz’s twelfth birthday, his parents took him hiking through the adirondacks. they’ve gone on some awesome trips together, and most of their vacations include some aspect of super cool nature. unbeknownst to grizz, his parents’ planned grad gift for him was a month-long backpacking tour through new zealand.

hometown: west ham, connecticut. cool beans.

level of education: high school senior. but he’s one of the learned folk: ap literature on lock. he took some college courses at the local community college last summer, because his job as a summer camp counselor wasn’t exactly intellectually stimulating. leading kids on hikes is fun ‘n all, but... not as engaging as college-level philosophy.

( &&. physical appearance )

looks like (or face claim, if applicable): nick robinson. with longer hair. reference [ here ] . 

height: 6′0 ( jack’s shorter, but nick’s my main fc i’m workin’ with so i decide to bump it up. plus, height? football? makes sense. )

weight: 158 lbs

shoe size: 10.5

figure/build: athletic build. muscular. broad shoulders, lean waist.

hair colour: deep, deep brown. almost black. natural.

hair length: about jaw-length. curly. ( REFERENCE. )

eye colour: brown with an overlay of hazel-y jade-green. his campers over the summer compared his eyes to moss a lot. it kinda felt badass. “moss boss” had a ring to it.

glasses?: nope. 20/20 vision. but he’s been known to steal friends’ glasses sometimes, just for funsies.

skin tone: light, but not necessarily pale – spends a lot of time outdoors. no freckles.

tattoos: none, yet. would love to get a quote from walden. or a pine tree, if it wasn’t so cliche.

piercings: none. but getting an ear pierced has always intrigued him.

birthmarks/scars/distinguishing marks: some miscellaneous scars on his hands from whittling incidents growing up. a faint line across his arm from stitches, when he broke it in the peewee football league in fifth grade. 

dominant hand: left-handed, but very recently learned he’s marginally ambidextrous for important tasks.

if painted, what color are their nails?: never painted. he keeps them short.

usual style of clothing: letterman jacket. jeans. tall socks, boots. pants tucked into socks, because why the hell not? flannels, hoodies, utility jackets layered over plain white tees. pendant necklaces, leather bracelets. occasionally he’ll wear a statement button-downs that looks like your grandmother’s upholstery, but somehow it’ll work really well. varsity t-shirts. hats of all varieties. if he could, he’d showcase some edgier styles. but he’s paranoid. he’s got a stanford hoodie buried in his closet. and a yale one, too.

frequently worn jewelry:  leather bracelets. a silver ring strung on a chain, engraved with “ for sylvie, with love ”. he found it on a hike, and... figured he’d be sylvie for a day, or something.

describe their voice, what accent?:  he has a light, gentle voice. a soft autumn breeze. laced with some gravel. strong, resolute. kind.

what is their speaking style (fast, monotone, loquacious)?: often speaks slowly, surely. not always keen to fill silences. but words are some of his favorite devices of deflection. if he’s unsure, he’ll cut himself off, leading to some choppy and hard to follow sentences. he very rarely mumbles. not afraid to speak eloquently, but will certainly match his speaking style to those he’s around, to an extent. rarely seems bothered. he masks it well.

describe their scent: amber, sandalwood, musk. vague hints of cinnamon. 

describe their posture: grizz holds himself proudly. shoulders broad, chin up, chest open. it makes his vulnerable moments very easy to spot.

( &&. legal information )

any speeding tickets?: nope. this kid drives by the book. probably because he very much prefers to walk or bike around town, when he can help it.

have they ever been arrested?: never. he’s only been to the police station once, to drop off some promotional donuts for the homecoming football game.

do they have a criminal record?: nah.

have they committed any violent crimes?: no sir.

property crimes?: no.

traffic crimes?: nope! unless you count accidentally cutting cars off with his bike, because that’s happened a handful of times, when he’s been deep in thought.

other crimes?: just breaking hearts.

( &&. medical information )

blood type: o negative.

date/time of birth: july 26, 1997. 3:23am. during a rainstorm.

place of birth: west ham hospital.

vaginal birth or cesauren section?: vaginal birth.

sex: male

smoker? / drinker? / drug user?: no / yes / marijuana.

addictions: does good lit count?

allergies: sulfur-based antibiotics. bullshit.

ever broken a bone?: his left arm in fifth grade. right foot at the seventh grade dance –– the girl he asked to slow dance tripped and grizz, wanting to show off his cool socks, wound up with a stiletto heel to the talus. ouch. collar bone, freshman year of high school: he climbed a tree to save his neighbor’s cat and slipped.

any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: nope.

any medication regularly taken: allergy meds. sometimes he gets the sniffles.

( &&. personality )

direct quote from them:  UNO.  DOS.  TRES.  QUATRO.

positive traits: charismatic, cunning, introspective, virtuosic.

negative traits: cataclysmic, self-destructive, reckless, careless.

likes: classic literature, trail mix, synth vibes, 60s/70s/80s rock, the beatles, radiohead, faith by george michael. old vinyls. bob ross. vanilla-cinnamon candles and jasmine tea. wind-rustled leaves. fresh fallen rain.

dislikes: bitter coffee. the disappointment just after sunrise. katy perry. cleaning, laundry. the warmer side of the pillow. waking up without a hand to hold. gareth. secrets, but he harbors a few big ones. pretending. hiding. transitively, himself.

strengths: can be quite resolute but sometimes about the wrong things. his ability to analyze and respond to complex literature is… uncanny. intelligence. deduction. survival facts. he’s a postmodern bear grylls trapped in suburbia.

weaknesses: impatience. do-it-yourself attitude.  fear of rejection. fear of acceptance. fear of others. fear of himself. 

insecurities: what if people in west ham discover who he really is? how’s he supposed to postpone that?

fears/phobias:  irrelevancy. book-burning. ignorance. time.

habits:  playing with his fingers. biting his bottom lip and twisting it between his teeth. humming when he thinks no one is listening. going for late-night walks through the emptiest parts of town. staying up ‘til 4am to read and re-read and read again.

quirks: rarely settles his gaze on anything for more than a few seconds, except for other peoples’ eyes. eye contact is probably one of grizz’s biggest conversational strengths. probably why he makes such a good liar, when he needs to. he’ll finish a pint of ice cream and just sit there for over an hour sucking on the spoon, lost in thought. licks his lips when he’s nervous. plays with his hair a lot. you know he’s nervous when he keeps tucking his hair behind his right ear. chuckles to himself, even when things are the pure opposite of funny.

hobbies: jotting notes in book margins. he dabbles in poetry but feels like his shit is too beat-generation to be that cool. wandering through the woods and attempting to generate his own maps, then checking them for accuracy. lighting matches in the cold, mid-evening air just to watch them burn.

guilty pleasure: peanut m&ms. twizzlers. burned marshmallows. apartment tour videos on youtube.

desires: to prove he’s… sometime more than this. something more than a footballer destined to pretend.

wishes: he could come clean about college. wishes he could come clean about himself. wishes he could work up the courage to ask a guy to prom.

secrets: he purposefully botched an interview he had with central connecticut state university’s football recruiter because he doesn’t want to play in college. he wants to go to yale, or stanford, or brown. to study literature. classics. philosophy. his sexuality. but it’s getting harder and harder to keep that locked down.

turn ons: intelligence. genuine, pure intelligence. sharp-witted humor. dimples. dorky laughs. gentle touch. someone who doesn’t bother with worries ‘bout tomorrow.

turn offs:  idiocy. khakis. people with too much pride. line cutters. naggers. people who don’t think the proper way to eat bugles is by fashioning crisp-claws first and pretending to be edward scissorhands. people who overlook adrienne rich’s poetry, or claim dante shouldn’t be taught in school.

lucky number: 0.

pet peeves: hearing people scratch their scalps. sniffly public transit users. people who don’t use earbuds. cold fries. nail-clickers. knuckle-crackers. people who slurp from straws like they’ve never had a drink before in their lives. 

their motto:  “ i’m surrounded by idiots. ”

( &&. favourites )

food: curly fries with cajun seasoning.

drink: half-oreo half-chocolate milkshake. extra whipped cream. two cherries. please.

fast food restaurant: he’s not huge on fast food, but he can fuck with five guys.

flavour: anything chocolate and peanut.

word: fuck !!!  or zephyr: a soft, gentle breeze.

colour:  a nice, deep forest green.

clothing: his letterman jacket. his deep green flannel’s a close second.

accessory: “ for sylvie, with love” . silver ring. he likes pretending he’s sylvie and that someone cared enough to get his name etched into a precious metal forever.

candle scent: the connecticut homesick candle. it smells like cinnamon and nutmeg and vanilla and fireside bliss. and pine trees. yum.

game: monopoly. but only if he wins.

animal: fish. they’re so graceful.

holiday: halloween. boo.

weather: sunset, just after rain. golden rays peering through deep gray clouds. it makes the greens of trees practically scream against the sky. it’s glorious. it’s heartbreaking. grizz loves it.

season: late fall.

book: le petit prince by antoine de saint-exupéry. it was the last book his grandmother ever read to him, on his fifth christmas eve.

artist: edvard munch. or van gogh, simply because he chopped his ear off and mailed it to his lover. now that’s modern romance.

band/group: the divine comedy, radiohead, pink floyd, the beatles, the rolling stones, the kooks. the avett brothers. belle & sebastian.

song: high and dry, radiohead. elephant, tame impala. anything by the beatles.

movie/film:  mr. nobody. eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. the first time little grizz saw alice in wonderland, he wouldn’t shut up about it for two weeks.

tv show: he grew up watching wallace and gromit. he’s still got a soft spot for it.

sport: football.

possession: his dad’s collection of beatles original release vinyls.

number: 0.

person: henry david thoreau.

( &&. skills )

talents: writing, but he won’t admit it. football. wood-whittling. gardening. navigation.

ability to drive a car?: yes.

can they ride a bike?: yes, and will frequently do so with no hands.

do they play any sports?: football.

anything they’re bad at?: juggling. sleeping. pretending to like gross food.

do they have any combat training? why?: grizz once yahoo answered how to punch somebody to the moon, after one of his best friends got made fun of in grade school for accidentally wearing a costume the day before halloween. he’s still waiting for an answer to that post.

( &&. firsts )

childhood memory: waging what was left of his fruit gummies during a game of fireside poker on the first visser camping trip.

crush: matty kerrington, pre-k. his hair smelled like strawberries and his smile reminded grizz of the hot honey that clung to his mum’s spoon after stirring tea. but to this day, he’ll say his first crush was amanda vander-voss, because her hair was pretty in braids and she reminded him of the pretty deer from bambi.

email address: grizzlybear@aol.com

job: camp counselor at a hiking / adventure camp based in west ham.

phone: a nifty samsung with a slide-out keyboard. made him feel like a god.

kiss: jessica winthrop, in a game of third grade truth or dare.

love: tess de luca ( @tessdl )

sexual experience: with jessica winthrop in the woods behind the middle school, three years later. jess got poison ivy in all the wrong places. grizz thought it was hysterical.

( &&. childhood )

best childhood memory?:  honestly? wearing that boa in dance class. his mom was quick to stop that.

worst childhood memory?:  nearly breaking his nose on the neighbor’s front porch, while attempting to ding-dong ditch with his friends. he’s not sure what gave them away more –– his blood staining their pavement, or the fact that he blubbered the whole run home.

what were they like as a child?:  grizz tended to poke his nose into all the wrong matters, landing him in oodles of trouble. he’d steal from the snack cabinet, sketch constellations across the walls… even stole his dad’s old walkman so he could listen to music under his covers past his bedtime. tried to sneak into the library after hours to get his hands on another thoreau novel. but it was all harmless. the vissers weren’t very firm disciplinarians: they just loved that their son was engaged and passionate about knowledge.

any crushes growing up?: oh, loads. more than he’d like to admit.

( &&. this or that )

expensive or inexpensive tastes?: inexpensive, but lasting.

hygienic or unhygienic?: hygenic.

open-minded or close-minded?: open.

introvert or extrovert?: ambivert. thrives in social settings but the mood has to be right.

optimistic or pessimistic?: pessimistic with a weak optimistic veil. pragmatism, is how he’d put it.

daredevil or cautious?: cautious daredevil.

logical or emotional?: a blend of both, but emotions often influence his actions more than he’d like to say.

generous or stingy?: generous.

polite or rude?: polite when it’s socially mandated. but if there’s no threat of repercussions? a bit rude, if he has to be.

book smart or street smart?:  both.

popular or loner?:  popular, by proxy. but grizz vibes with some solid solitude, especially to recharge.

leader or follower?: leader. follower, though, in the high school structure of things. it’s a way to ensure his place and avoid potential fallout. he’ll call his friends out if they’re up to no good, though.

day or night person?: night. definitely night.

cat or dog person?: both! prefers cats just a smidge more.

closet door open or closed while sleeping?: open. maybe his demons wanna cuddle or some shit.

( &&. social media )

do they have a facebook? twitter? instagram? vine? snapchat? tinder/grindr? tumblr? youtube? yes to instagram and (begrudgingly) snapchat.

if so; name on facebook: none.

instagram user: grizzvisser

snapchat user: grizzybear

( &&. musical tastes )

theme song: kimochi warui ( when? when? when? ), car seat headrest. god... get him OUT of this town.

makes them sad: blackbird, the beatles. his grandparents used to sing this when he’d sleep over/ they’d be in the kitchen early in the morning trying to convince him to eat his cereal. they’d change the lyrics and snap slightly off-tempo, all smiles and coaxing gestures. ave maria. he’s not sure why. it inspires melancholia.

makes them dance: hazy miss daisy, kid bloom. anything with a sick beat and erratic synth. take on me, a-ha. good times bad times, led zeppelin. 

loves the most: fool of myself, the band camino. it’s a song he can throw his head back to, close his eyes, and sway in the breeze.

( &&. miscellaneous )

do they have a fake i.d.?: yep, used to, but now that’s not necessary!

are they a virgin?: nope siree!

describe their signature: it’s unapologetic on the page. takes up more room than it should with lateral squiggles and grandiose swirls. G and V are decipherable, but everything else is convoluted by its own physics. a muddled mess. beautiful in its self-collapsing structure.

how long would they survive in a zombie apocalypse?:  he’d outlive everyone. survivalist visser, right here.

do they travel?: yes, but he wants to do more, see more. the grand canyon would be cool. or maybe the alps. he’s always had a dream of hiking yosemite. 

one place they would like to live: anywhere but here.

one place they would like to visit: new zealand. australia. hawaii.

celebrity crush: young johnny depp. emma watson.

what can you find in their pockets/wallet/purse: tic tacs, but never the mint ones. only the odd flavors.

place(s) your character can always be found:  anywhere with trees. rooftops. alleyways. the football field. coffee shops. the local diner. roadside sunflower fields. his parents’ garden.

when does your character like to wake up?:  with the sun.

what’s your character’s morning routine?: blink at the ceiling for about 20 minutes. wash his face, brush his teeth. annotate a few lines of whatever book he’s reading. push-ups, pull-ups, crunches. run a mile or two. rush into the shower. grab his lunch from the fridge and bike to school (and barely make it).

what does your character eat for breakfast/lunch/dinner?:  grizz’s mom loves to cook, so they’re always trying some new paleo trend. some of it’s awful. but he’ll try to eat it and if he can’t, he’ll sneak a granola bar later. if the school’s serving smiley face fries, he’ll have those. he really likes green apples and those little clementines.

how does your character spend their free days?:  hiking. reading. writing. lying in the sun and just... thinking. lately, he’s been daydreaming a lot about an ivy league education. something more engaging than west ham’s high school snoozefest.

what’s your character’s bedtime routine?:  some kind of pre-bed stretching routine. wash his face, brush his teeth, curl up in bed with a book. fall asleep with it still open on his chest.

what does your character wear to bed?: boxers and a t-shirt.

if your character can’t fall asleep, what are they thinking about?: the past. mistakes. time ticking away.

what is their idea of perfect happiness?: he’s still workin’ on that bit.

on what occasions do they lie?:  very rarely, if he can help it.

most marked characteristic: his hair. it’s all russet waves. untamed. some days, his hair truly has a mind of its own. it screams free spirit. it doesn’t let on that, inside, his soul is burning.

what is one thing they’d most like to change about themselves?:  honestly? it’s not so much what he’d want to change about himself as it is about this town. 

how would they like to die?:  well-read.

do they snore? not unless he’s got a head cold. then there may be a few soft snores here and there.

can they curl their tongue?: yes!

can they whistle?: yes indeed!

do they believe in the supernatural?: not really. but it’s fun to indulge on halloween.  did he move your cup, or did the ghouls?!  s p o o k y .

has anyone ever broken their heart?:  no. haven’t had the opportunity to.

have they ever broken anyone’s heart?:  yes. little marsha lapone’s, at summer camp. she was 8, he’s 18. he told her there was no chance, and she cried into her pb&j. tough.

are they squeamish?: no. 

have they ever seen anyone die? what happened?: just in films.

are they a lightweight?: heck no.

that was a very lengthy thing but... yeah! hit me up for plots! i’m gonna get to crafting and replying to starters v shortly!

[beatyoutothepunchline]

On Getting Dressed

Getting dressed in the morning has always been difficult for me. If I can, I will wear the same outfit four times in one week to avoid having to think about it any longer than necessary. My go-to outfit at the moment is my green and black J-Crew plaid button-down, my high-waisted Madewell skinny jeans with the button fly and my Doc Martens. At this point in my life, I do not ask myself, “Do you think somebody will realize you’ve been wearing the same pair of jeans for the last four days?” but, “Do these jeans look and smell clean enough that if someone were to realize you’ve been wearing them for the last four days, they wouldn’t call you out on it?” If the answer is yes, I will throw on the outfit again. I don’t dress to look nice most days. “Nice” meaning my makeup is done, my hair is straight and parts in a way that frames my face in a flattering way, my outfit is coordinated, cleaned and ironed and my shoes match the vibe I’m going for. When I look "nice" there is generally a vibe I am going for and that can vary day to day. A coat of concealer and a flat iron are nice, but it isn’t really necessary. Some days I run around Chicago in an oversized sweatshirt, with bags under my eyes and my naturally wavy hair pulled back in a ponytail. Sometimes I’m more dressed up, others I’m more dressed down. I’m most comfortable in jeans and a tee shirt and because I tend to get more done when I don’t feel like I’m sticking out for looking good or bad. There are certain days where I have to critically think about my wardrobe as I might an essay or an article for class--interviews, dates, holidays--and those days are agonizing. I would argue there is just as much nuance and subtext in the right outfit as there is in a Hemingway short story. Which is why most fashion related things go over my head. But every now and then, I force myself to stand in front of my closet and edit my wardrobe to what I wear. I’m not a person with many clothes, but there are always a few things I find I can get rid of. As I pick up each piece and I asked myself, “Is this still me?” I stopped to wonder, “How did this become my thing? Is it even my thing, or is it someone else’s?” Like most people, from birth till about I was old enough to make my own decision (and for those decisions to be preferably color coordinated, realistic, and weather/event appropriate), my clothing wasn’t my choice. So none of my clothes were my thing, rather what my mom thought would look cute on me. This is why there is a picture of me in an Angelina Ballerina tee shirts and pink capris with a fairy wand and crown on my fourth birthday, and a picture of me in fifth grade wearing a striped, pink white shirt and short sets from Old Navy while on our family trip to Hawaii, and why my first day of school photo from seventh grade I’m wearing a short sleeved and khaki jacket with a lacy pink tank top and black shorts. I can separate my current wardrobe, almost perfectly into black, white, denim, olive green, and varying shades of blue. I have one pink sweater (which my mother bought me) and while I will occasionally throw it on and wear it around my apartment, I end up tearing it off within twenty minutes because of the I cannot stand the color or cut of it. The reason I wear the monochrome is because I am pale and my skin has a naturally pink undertone. If you flip my wrist over, you can see every vein in my arm up to my elbow. You can see the veins in my feet, in my thighs and my stomach. Wearing, black, white, denim, olive and shades of blue makes the pinkish undertone is less noticable and helps the bright blue veins blend in better. Wearing pink, or bright yellow washes me out and makes weird details intense. As for the cut of it, it’s a cropped sweater with side splits up to my ribcage, on top of being wildly ineffective at keeping me warm, it makes my long torso appear even longer than it is, and it just isn’t me. Nothing in my wardrobe is really “me” though. I came to this realization after glancing at the mess of clothes scattered across my bedroom floor while taking a “break” from spring cleaning this last weekend. Everything in my closet I own because of someone else. I own a pair of Gold Cup Sperry Topsiders because my freshman year of high school there was a senior boy with a British accent who browsed the bookshelves of the library before school in a pair of Sperry’s. In the era of Victoria Secret yoga pants tucked into beat to hell Ugg boots and calf-length Nike socks slipped thoughtlessly into pairs of ADIDAS shower slides on the way out the door, his shoes, as well as the pressed khaki pants and button-down shirts, his perfectly gelled hair, and his accent, captured a kind of class that seemed lost on the rest of the students at my high school. Though my own Sperry’s seem to more closely resemble some douchebag college frat guys than the classy look of Boat Shoe Guy’s, when I look of them I think back to being fourteen, working up the guts to sit at his table in the library, not quite brave enough to say anything, and listening to him talk in what I later found out was a fake British accent about things I can’t remember with other, older people and feeling cool. Not in a conventional way. Cool in a nerdy way I didn’t realize I could be until I met him. When I look at the gold hoop earrings I keep in my great grandmother’s teacup with the rest of my small jewelry collection, I realize that my love for them comes from mother, who wore perfect silver hoops earrings frequently throughout my childhood. When I think of them I think of box blonde hair, and regrettable bangs and her capped tooth smile. I’m the opposite. My hair is dirty blonde, I don’t have bangs (never again after my mom cut thick ones so far back on my head that for several months I had Joe Dirt’s mullet). My hoops aren’t perfect circles and they are gold color, not silver.I don’t look or act much like my mother, but occasionally when I put them on I feel like I can fake that same kind of magnetic charm and try to smile with my teeth like she does. I decide I can pull off the hoops, but not the toothy grin and leave it at that. I own a black pea coat because of the movie Giant. Which doesn’t seem like it would make sense give it’s a movie set in Marfa, Texas, but let me explain. My freshman year of high school my grandma bought a copy of Giant for my dad’s birthday and one day a few weeks after she’d given it to him, I found it lying on the buffet in our living room. Being the movie buff I am, and being intregued by the front cover I decided to watch it. The entire time I just kept thinking the blond guy from the front cover was cute (which, in retrospect, is the dumbest take away a person could have after watching that film). After the movie I decided to Google him and came upon a picture of him walking down the rainy street in New York City. Wet cigarette hanging out of his mouth, collar of his iconic black black pea coat poped. And Where I can’t say I’ve ever fallen in love at first sight, I imagine it’s similar to seeing James Dean in that jacket. In an excerpt from ‘Women in Clothes,’ an anthology about how clothes define and shape us, Leanne Shapton, author and artist, writes of a similar love-at-first-sight feeling she with an Isabel Marant dress she saw a woman wearing at a party, “I admired her hair: worn loose, flecked with grey. And her manner: warm, thoughtful, sincere. She wore no makeup, and the dress, which was sack-like, lent her a modesty I liked. We spoke about our children. Then, in a lull in the conversation, I came back to the dress, complimenting it again. She nodded, knowing. Then I did something that surprised me: I leaned down and picked up the edge of her skirt and touched it, marveling aloud at the light, smooth fabric. I have never touched another woman’s dress like that before. A fur sleeve once, but I’ve never had that grasping, clutching impulse.” In her essay, Sharpton wonders if her feelings she had about the dress “also had something to do with admitting I want something. I’ve struggled with admitting what I want most of my life, not admitting until the last possible moment that I wanted a child. Admitting I flat-out wanted this dress was new to me. I was nervous.” Where I can’t say I relate to the wanting a kid portion of that statement, I can relate to the feeling of wanting something. Wanting to be unique and confident, two feelings I don’t feel like I’ve ever fully had but have just been chasing after my whole life. The reason my go-to outfit is what it is is because of directors like Sofia Coppola and Point Break era, Kathryn Bigelow. There is this picture of Kathryn Bigelow standing in front of a monitor next to Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze: white tee shirt, baggy blue jeans, cool boxy shades, and a Reebok baseball hat. When I don’t know what to wear, or when I need to do something I’m not sure I can, I dress up and pretend to be somebody I think can figure it out. Be the woman who can direct a surfer bank heist movie, the woman who can speak French, beautifully while eating a croissant, scarlet lips pouted, Rick Blaine tripping over his shit, the Dude who’s got no idea how the hell things are going to work out, but isn’t too worried about it. Cause maybe things just will in the end. It isn’t an exact copy, it looks similar enough to them that I’m able to capture their attitude, power. . . their magic, but different enough that it’s still me. So I put on my version of that outfit when I don’t know what else to wear because it is comfortable and easy and because I’ve tricked myself into thinking it will inspire some sort of brilliant direction and confidence I don’t feel like I have on my own. Even if it doesn’t do what I think it will and my voice gets caught in my throat and I let someone talk over me, or I get rejected, or I fail and fall flat on my face. When I wear my navy Calvin Klein wrap dress, everyone I know groans and says, “You wear that all the time. Don’t you own another dress?” I do. There is the ombre floor length prom dress that lives back of my closet at my parent's house which I bought because it made me look like Jennifer Aniston, and the crochet white and orange dress that I bought from Urban Outfitter’s because it reminded me of Shasta Fay Hepworth’s orange dress in Paul Thomas Anderson’s Inherent Vice. I don’t usually have the occasion to wear either of these dresses, but the navy wrap dress works for almost any occasion so that’s why I wear it. It creates some shape on my fairly shapeless form, and I like it because it makes me feel like Lauren Bacall. Equal parts sexy, mysterious and classy in a way that I am otherwise not. I’ve never worn it on a date, but I’d be lying if I said if I’d never worn it to a half hour meeting to look “nice” only to walk around downtown Chicago just to see people turn their heads and wonder, “Who is she?” Then, for a fraction of a second, I am the woman I’m not to somebone. When I am at home on Saturday mornings, and my hair is all frizzed out and drooled on and I can’t be bothered to put on actual pants, I walk around in my boxers, oversized and stained Sid’s Liquor tee shirt and a cardigan. I throw on some sunglasses, debate making myself a White Russian and go full-on “The Dude” from The Big Lebowski. Cause it’s hard to relax when you live and work in the same place and I can only seem to do it when I’m someone else. But it is me? Dressing up as someone else might get me through the day, but what if I never take risks as myself? Years from now, will there be some girl who sees a pair of Madewell skinny jeans at the bottom of a pile at a thrift store or finds an old pair of boots that will say, “Oh my god, I love it. It’s so Sidney Thompson.” if I can’t even dress up like her? Am I just a shot for shot remake with nothing new to offer, to contribute, to inspire? Will people see me or will they tease my style apart and say, “Oh, she’s ripping off So-and-So.” I’d like to think I’m more of a Quentin Tarantino homage to all my favorite fashion icons. You can see where I stole, but I’d like to think every now and then there’s someone out there is able to see that part of me poking through one of my costumes and thinks it’s pretty cool.

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

Since you've done all odd numbers.. even numbers?

OH DEAR GOD OKAY THAT’S GREAT!!! Thank you so so much for asking, amazing Anon!!!!! :’D Here we gone, it’s gonna be long again, so it’s below the cut!! Click read more to learn more randomness about me!!! X’D [questions from here]

2.have you ever found a writer who thinks just like you? if so, who?

Not exactly like me, no. That’s the good thing about art; nothing is the same! :D

4.would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?

LMAO NO

6.how many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?

Not many. I tend to distrust men more with physical harm and I distrust women more with emotional harm. I have… trust issues. I trust my frens and some of my family members and that’s about it. oof. ^__^”

8.who would you like to see in concert?

If I’m gonna be risking sensory overlord… Coldplay!

10.would you ever want to swim with sharks?

HELL TO THE YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :DDDDDDD

12.what was the last thing that made you laugh?

My Dad just brushed Ria our German Shepherd and came in COVERED in fur X’D X’D

14.have any pets?

YES!! Three dogs (Ria the German Shepherd, Granger the whippet, and Maude the mutt/Pomeranian-ish), three chickens (Haymitch, Cinna, and Effie) and two ducks (Peeta and Katniss). Don’t worry, we named the poultry after Hunger Games characters to be ironic, since we have no plans to kill them and they’re spoiled AF. X’D

16.do you have piercings? How many?

I don’t! I wanted some, but… eh we’ll see. XD

18.what are you craving right now?

Intimacy. :’)

20.have you ever been cheated on?

No. And if I ever am it will absolutely destroy me. So yeah, if my future partner is reading this, please just… don’t. Break up with me first, at least.

22.do you believe in true love?

Meh. Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know. I hope it exists though!

24.do you like the snow?

I’ve never seen snow!! I WOULD LOVE TO SEE IT AND JUST FACE-PLANT INTO IT!!!!!!! :’D XD

26.is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

Kinda depends on the circumstances??? but it’s usually it is pretty cute! ^-^

28.go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

Six million pounds of space dust settles on the earth every year.

ummmm…. thanks, I hate it? XD

30.what color do you really want to dye your hair?

BRIGHT FUCKIN YELLOW. PIKA PIKA MOTHERFUCKER!!! >:D X’D

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

I have this one bag that’s been with me since I was 8. It’s basically a glorified sack that creases every bit of clothing you put in it to hell and it has straps and rope ties and it’s navy blue and I love it!! :D X’D

34. what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

My own goddamn house. Had to bust a window and everything. X’D

36.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.

Okay so my Mum exclusively buys black socks. Just…. black socks that you can’t even tell apart, but I can’t wait till I can buy the most RIDICULOUSLY CUTE HECKING SOCKS ON THE PLANET. I do like wearing socks, I do not sleep with socks on, but I think they’re great!! :D XD

38.do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

It’s p small and it has lots of art I can actually appreciate on the walls and it’s got a low ceiling and kind of a comforting, dark-but-still-sunny den kind of vibe. The booths are actually comfortable. A lot of wood and smokey colours. There’s a slate fireplace crackling somewhere. It smells strongly of coffee and vaguely of liquorice. There’s a spot at the back that’s mostly hidden from site, the perfect place to curl up and read a book while picking on a muffin that was reasonably cheap but the size of your whole hand. Closest place to heaven on earth.

40.what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

Not being able to breathe. Pretty much, ya.

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

Sam aka myriadimagines. And this song, idk why, it just reminds me of her.

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

ASDFGHJKL ACTUALLY THIS THING THAT SAM HERSELF WROTE IS MY FAVE. I read it like a 2 years ago now and it still stuck with me and it’s so beautifully poignant I want to SCREAM. hello yes why are my friends so talented are they even REAL??????????

46.what are some of your worst habits?

I forget to eat and generally forget to take care of myself, I deny myself things I like for absolutely no reason??? I procrastinate everything, I bite my fingernails super low and also the skin around them bc I’m fuckin constantly anxious and can’t sit still, I overthink everything, I stay up way too late… honestly I could keep going, you get the point. XD

48.tell us about your pets!

OKAY SO. Ria is absolutely OBSESSED with her ball, and I mean OBSESSED to the point where she has no idea what to do with herself if you take it away and gets all anxious and whines and paces till you give it back. She constantly sheds and she does this sUpER CuTe thing where she wraps her front paw around your leg while you’re trying to walk and trips you. :))) Granger is either made of metal or a deflated pool toy and there’s no in between. She eats literally anything, including ants nests bc you know they must taste GREAT. She’s super stubborn. She gets smile wrinkles if you rub her neck. Maudie was rescue we got as a really small puppy. We only knew her mum but her dad must have been a Pomeranian bc she looks almost exactly like one. She has this thing where she bites you when you surprise her but really she’s a sweetheart. She’s mostly blind and deaf and has no idea where she is most of the time, I don’t think. XD The chickens are all idiots, the ducks are scared of me but still eat out of my hand when I offer them grapes. Haymitch likes to jump up on my back, Effie likes falling asleep on my lap, and Cinna pecks me a lot and leaves bruises but she lets me stroke her at night when she’s dozing off. :’)

50.are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

I think they can be funny… in small amounts. :/// Their laughs are pretty infectious, you gotta admit. XD

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

Wariness and weariness and beauty and a fierce want to be loved.

54.are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

YEEEEESSSSSSS. An Ouroboros (either sealed or pulling away idk), a blank line of my arm so I can write how many days I’ve been without a relapse bc I need to be held accountable for my actions, a black square with colours bursting out, I also really love blackout tattoos???? I want a bird on my middle finger. :)))) And maybe a smiley face near my collar bone. The quote “what a marvel life is.” I also want the word “promise” on me somewhere, idk where. Maybe a feather somewhere too??? AHHHH SO MANY MY DUDE!!!!!! :DDDDDDDD maybe even a Southern cross but I don’t want to be one of those wankers y’know XD

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

Star Wars, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Mulan, Into The Spiderverse. Basically just my favourites lmao. XD

58.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?

Neither, eesh. Maybe the past….?? Maybe…? I guess it’d be pretty funny to grab “I’m a girl!!!” Matt and shake some sense into his thick skull. X’D

60.what are some things you do when you can’t sleep?

Oh boy. Throw a ball at the wall and catch it, try to write, have a panic attack bc I should be sleeping, read, play Pokemon, listen to music, pat my dogs, possibly cry… world’s my oyster. XD

62.who is the last person you told a secret to?

My Mum.

64.what’s your favorite food?

🍕 !!!!!!!! :DDDDDD

66.three songs you were recently obsessed with.

this one - this one - this one 

68. three favourite old songs

this - this - this

70.worst possible time to get horny:

lmao when both my parents are home and I have no time to deal with ittttt… occasions like that are the only times I’m sort of grateful I can’t get a boner and give myself away. XD 

72.do you believe in soulmates?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I don’t believe any relationship is “perfect”, though. There’s always gonna be difficulties.

74.who was the last person you cried in front of?

Dad. Oof.

76.is it easier to forgive or forget?

Neither. :))))))) Forget… I guess?? But really. Neither. :)

78.do you have trust issues? 

*inhale*

Y E S

80.would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

Nopeity nope nope. XD

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING, ANON!!!

[mrskandiibaby2269]

Another Round:FckFeelings

Another Round: FuckFeelings

Hmmm ok as I think to myself opening my walk in closet door. I need to wear something sexy. Something that would stop him in his tracks. I just wonder what does he really have in store for me. This I definitely cannot wait to see.

Hmmm maybe.. I should go nude

Hmmm decisions, decision ….

I think this trench coat would be perfect a night like this jamming to some Rihanna feeling sexy and confident

🎶Ooh nana nana five fingers on it Five fingers, hit it like you want it I’mma hit it like I’m on it Straight shots of the Buddha Shots, shots, shots, shots Baby, I’mma pick your poison Ooh-we, oh-yeah (hmm na na na) You gon’ need it I’m off that la-la I’mma get it real like the jacuzzi, (ah yeah) And sex with me, so amazing All this all work, no vacation Stay up off my Instagram with your temptation Sex with me, sex with me, sex with me yeah So amazing, so amazing Hmmmm🎶

Taking a hot steamy shower thinking out loud about what could do go down. I know this is risky as shit but I think I’m starting to like it. Mmm having flashes of the future of what I can do to him and what he can do to me … mmmm dripping wet along the pity patter of the shower head water hitting my nipples getting em hard. Got me feeling myself literally mmm damn I know I know what y'all thinking. “This is wrong. I’m just another thot that got wife’d up.” Hell no. My husband has been cheating on me for years only reason why I’m still with him because i believe we can fix our marriage. But he puts me down, belittles me , makes fun of my weight. I don’t know why – no I'ma save it for the real break through at the therapy session, like I said before as if there will be one for me and him. Scoffs. Yeah right. That nicca … fuck him. Back to tonight… It’s just the way my ex makes me feel like. Wanted, actually… better than… wanted… like I’m needed. I mean damn. It feels … sooo fucking good. Ahhh, the way we have phone sex the way how his voice sounds so serious. How he say he wanna eat me. Got me playing with myself in the shower Maybe I should I send a teaser video to him hmm....yeah let me do that. “Mmmmm ahhhh hope you ready for me baby. Cause I’m so fuckin … ready… mmm… for… you . Muah 💋 😘” *Message Delivered*

*Read* “Oohh hell yea im ready baby girl I’m around the block. 10mins away😘😘😘👅💦.”

Stepping out and quickly drying off putting on my favorite heels. Some clear lip gloss, my silver hoop earrings. A little spritz of Pink Ice perfume. Observing myself one last time. Coaching myself. “Aight girl this is it. No turning back. You’re thick, plump, and sexy. And you gonna turn his ass out tonight.” Hearing the car horn twice. Along with a phone call.

“ I’m here gorgeous.”

“Ok boo, coming right out.”

“Alright baby girl.”

Walking down the stairs feeling like a model in a movie everything moving in slow motion. My favorite song playing in my head. Open the door and there he is in the sexy flesh he is in. I take him in. Black and white Jordan’s . Khaki cargo shorts with just the right amount of sag. White v-neck shirt. Brightest smile I ever seen. All that could leave my mouth was.. “Damn…. you fine as hell daddy.”

“And you look like a beautiful movie star mmm spin around for me baby.” “Mmm mm mm. Even better than I imagined. You ready to go?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Let me get the door for you, mmm can you smack yo ass?” “ ha, no”

“I'ma do it anyway.”

“Ooh mm you so crazy.” “So where we going to?”

“The Umstead Hotel and Spa.”

“Ohh really. Damn…”

“Damn what don’t wanna go there or something?”

“No, no it’s not that. I always wanted to go but my husband would ever take me.”

“Why not?”

“He said he don’t want to spend his money on a fat pig like me. I’m not worth it.”

He just looked at me like he was in disbelief and disgusted. Trying to gather up what I said.

“Are you serious?! He said that ?! Hell Nah. What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“ I don’t even know any more.” I reply rubbing the nerve between my eyebrows. “

"Calm down baby girl alright just breathe in and out for me. Ok? I’m about to take real good care of you.”

“Ok, if you say so.”

Arriving at our destination. I was about to open the door and he beats me to it. Taking my hand and helping me step out. Giving me his arm and assisting to the door once I step inside it’s absolutely breathe taking. I’m lost for words can’t describe how it is. But the decor is beautiful the atmosphere and the vibe is positive and everyone is so nice.“ He checks us in and escorts me to the restaurant in side and we order the same thing The Grilled Lobster and a bottle of their best champagne. Hours past along with a few laughs and conversations.

"I just can’t believe that he would say that about you though. That’s just stupid. Please don’t tell me you believe him please tell me.”

“There are days where I do but then again..I don’t cause I know he still loves me then. I hear her voice and the background… anyways. It’s whatever.”

“You deserve better than that though, babe. I know we weren’t perfect but I can say those words never left my mouth. ”

“I know you didn’t and you’re right.. but we can’t go back those days anymore …”

“Or can we.” We look at each other. Like the flame between us is about to be re kindled, we both feeling sparks and feeling some fire, the infatuation is real and present in this room. He’s undressing me with his eyes and I’m doing the same to him. Biting my lip. Sipping on a last drop of the champagne wiping my lip so much seductively. Low key insinuating that I’m ready to give him some head. But I know he ain’t ready yet.

“You can use some more champagne, waiter refill the goddess glass please?”

“Yes,sir. Here you are miss enjoy!”

“"Are you trying to get me drunk so you can fuck me, lol?”

“No no no. Lol If I wanted to fuck you I would put you on this table in front of everyone and give them a real show.” “But I wanna make love to you. Tonight. Take my hand. This is how you should be treated.”

Ain’t gon lie to y'all this man is swooping me off my feet. I take his hand he pays the waiter for dinner. Leads me to the elevator as soon as the door close. He kisses me softly on my neck and on my lips passionately and deep. With a little French tongue action. The sparks between done turned into fire that we can’t no longer control. We bust in room tripping over furniture but not losing the rhythm not messing up the flow. Then I hear my song on the radio. He tells me he likes this song too ,but wants the instrumental and the song on repeat so he synced his phone to his speaker.

🎶
I probably shouldn’t be around you
'Cause you get wild, wild, wild
You looking like there’s nothing that you won’t do
Ayy, girl that’s when I told you
 When I’m with you, all I get is wild thoughts
Wild, wild, wild
Wild, wild, wild thoughts
Wild, wild, wild
When I’m with you, all I get is wild thoughts
Wild, wild, wild
When I’m with you, all I get is wild thoughts🎶

Now if you’re wondering why we’re listening to music so much. Because we’re music lovers, we listen to music that matches our love mood. It’s perfect for our vibe . Kissing and, touching, and rubbing, going back and forth but , once again. Here we go with them damn second thoughts. I tried to stop him saying I gotta go. I have to call my husband and let him know what’s going on. “I gotta go. .. I .. I can’t do this.”

“No no come on. Where you going?”

I run to the bathroom tried to call my husband. What the fuck that’s the fifth time he declined me. Hell nah. What the fuck is going on…

“Mmmm ahhh fuck daddy…”

“Hello.. what the hell!!! Hello ”

“I’m busy. Leave me the fuck alone!!!.”

“You know what take all the fucking time you need. I’M DONE WITH YOU I WANT A DIVORCE!”“

*call ended*

Tried to hold back my tears and regain my composure and head out. But by the time I open the door, I can tell he heard everything. I tried running away but he softly takes my arm and whispers in my ear. "It’s ok baby. Just give into me.”

So I do finally let loose. He kiss me I kiss him back. I push him down on the couch and straddle him kiss bite his neck. And pull off his shirt. Slide down to unzip his pants and throw them on the other side of the room. Untie his shoes and I take those off along with his socks too.

He tries to take off my coat but I stop him and push his hands away.

“If you want me to let loose and give in to you. Then lay back and relax for me.”

“Yes ma'am. Do your thang baby. ”

“You know I always wanted to give out a lap dance. I guess now is my chance. Turn that song up for me .”

The volume gets higher and higher. 🎶Shawty, this gonna be your favorite song… this is the remix.🎶 Hearing that piano playing smoothly with them fingers snapping and then the hi-hat and the drums make me look deep inside of all the shit that fucking piece of shit putting me through. And I start dancing like a pro stripper. I see him pull some bands out of his pockets and he throw them at me being my motivation.

“Yeah baby, there you go. Mmm shit that’s sexy as fuck. Keep going.”

Body rolling flipping my hair. Doing a spilt in the air. Twerking on him.

🎶Bring that shit back, let you hear somethin’ twice Ask how to keep drama clear from her life Said, “I don’t know, girl, but here’s some advice Stop bein’ friendly to the fuckboys (yeah) Stop bein’ friendly to the fuckboys (yeah) Stop bein’ friendly to the fuckboys Stop bein’ friendly to the fuckboys" (Hold up) Hold up, I’m who you’ve been cravin’ for The one that you save it for Hop in the shower and shave it for Come and watch Power the day before🎶

When Louso repeatedly said “stop being friendly to the fuck boys.” The more I forgot about my future ex husband and I walked slow and sexy back to my ex. And leaned down to his level.

“You ready to see what I got on under this coat?”

“Hell yeah. But take your time baby. ”

“Ok. Here we go.” Untie one bow after the other, taking it off my shoulders nice and slow, and let flow and drop onto the floor. Twirl my phat ass in his face and tease him real good making sure he can’t touch or get it. But I slip up on purpose and let him catch me. He pulls me to him and I look down but he puts his hand under my chin and left my head up. And looks at me deep in my eye. “No longer will you need to look down anymore, that’s over now baby. For now on. You keep your pretty head up. Now look at me.”

He stands up and picks me up off my feet and place me on the bed. Put my legs and feet in the air while my heels are still on. Kisses me from my feet, to my calves, to my legs, to my thighs, to my pussy, to both sides of my hips, to my stomach, to my breasts, to my neck, to my lips, mmmm sending chills to my spine his kisses was amazing setting me on fire, got me going crazy again.

“Mmmm shit. This feels so good. Keep going.”

“Ahhh wet this dick up for me baby.”

“Ok daddy.” “Ummm mmmm ahh mmm slurrp”

“Shhiit, hell yeah. Mmm yea baby suck that dick baby. Fuck.”

“Mmmm ahhh mmmm *chokes on it*”

He picks me up and puts me on his dick and lays me down on my back and he makes love to me.

“Hitting and stroking that pussy nice and slow.. mmm fuck!”

“Ahhhh yesss… this.. feel so.. damn amazing.”

“Yeah baby. I told you. I got you. Mmm shit.”

Ahhh fuck. I never had it like this before. I mean damn. He was deep in my pussy had me creaming and leaking sweet juices all over the bed and his dick. But he was taking his time with it. Every time I tried to look away. He moves my head to him and tells me to look at him.

“Every time you look away I will go harder and deeper. … ok think I’m playing mmm mmm mmm .”

“Oooh fuck you not playing damn. Ok ok ok mmm shit yes yes yes yes fuck I’m squirting already but keep going.”

“You can scratch me up if you want to. It’s all good baby. Ahhhh fuck hell yeah.”

“Ahhh shit yesss don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Baby you’re phone blowing up…‘mmmm fuck why now.”

“It’s prolly work …. ohhh shit.”

“Won’t me to answer it? Hmm won’t big daddy to answer it? Mmmm”

“'Mmmm fuck that phone and focus on this pussy.”

“Ohhh yes, my queen. Ahhhh fuck fuck shit.”

*8 missed calls* *2 voicemails* *1Text Notification* “Husband: baby I’m sorry call let’s talk”

“You’re phone ringing again, baby lemme answer this shit.”

“But baby don’t stop.” I say with a naughty pouty face.

“Don’t worry baby Ima still hit this pussy. And talk at the same time… it’s your husband. Allow me.”

“Hey baby look it’s not what seems....”

“Hey ,sorry, bruh she's really occupied with me right now. ”

“What.. WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!”

“Her ex nigga who’s about to be her new nigga all over again. Don’t believe me? Moan baby!!!”

“Ahhhh fuck yesss yesss yesss don’t stop ooh ohh ohh ohhh yes yes don’t stop.”

“ Well as you can clearly hear the lady is done with you and just getting started with me. Deuces nicca!” *Slide To Power Off* “Mmmm that shit was sexy daddy. Made me wetter.”

“Mmmm lol I can tell. I got you, don’t worry. I told you baby. Now bend over for daddy …. yeah… arch that back mmm yes just like that take this dick.” “Ahhhh yes yes daddy daddy yes damn.”

“Throw that ass back …. ohhhhh hell yea!!! There ya go.”

“Mmmmm shit I’m creaming and cumming again.”

“It’s ok just let it all go on my dick. Making love to this pussy. How feel baby? ”

“ It feels soooo fucking good daddy damn I needed this …. fuccck!!!!!!!”

“I know baby I know Gotdamn!!!! ”

To be continued….

🎶Baby you know who I am and girl I know just who you are We ain’t gotta rush into shit cause being in love is too hard I’m tired of all these flashing lights, girl we should just fuck in the dark Once you let me in it, I'mma get to switching, different positions Have that ass wishing that I was your nigga Wishing that I was your nigga, yeah yeah yeah Wishing that I was your nigga, yeah Once you let me in it, I'mma get to switching, different positions Have that ass wishing that I was your nigga🎶

MrsKandiiBaby💋🍭👅💦😏😘😜

[aj22writes]

Chapter eight...

...Is where the real conflict of this story begins. The rest of this arc will not be consumed by this fight with the villains, who we see interact with the Dueling Hearts here for the first time, but this will be when the Dueling Hearts see just how powerful some of the foes out there in the real world actually are.

We also get a new mystery in this chapter, in the form of the name of the organization that the villains claim to represent. What does it mean? What is this organization? Only time will tell.

Chapter Eight

The Sol Takers

The Dueling Hearts took things easy for the next few days. They kept active, of course, but even Tucker, who thrived on all things to do with fighting, even the pain that it left behind, found it necessary to limit himself in the wake of the exhibition match. During this period, Jen and Tucker told Jo about their meeting with the manager of the Megadojo, and, after some serious thought, Jo went to meet with Eric as well. By the time she left, she had a lot on her mind, enough that she immediately set a time for the Dueling Hearts to all meet up to talk, two nights later, at Wilson’s

They met up just after dark. The dojo was closed. Jo was sitting inside on one of four fold out chair that she had set up for them to use, with only the minimum number of interior lights turned on, when the others arrived, almost at the same time. Despite that Jo had been planning how to start this conversation all evening, it was actually Sara who spoke first, asking, “Okay, what’s with all the melodrama.”

Jo was immediately disarmed, “I am not being melodramatic.”

The other three Dueling Hearts laughed. “Yeah you are, dude,” Tucker told her. “You brought us here, after dark, to a closed dojo, to tell us some big important thing. You do this kind of thing all the time.”

Jo’s left eye twitched. They’d figured her out, but it didn’t matter. “This is important, though,” she told them.”

“I’m sure it is,” Jen replied, sitting down in the folding chair across from Jo. She had her hair up today, except for the colored part of her bangs, which hung down over the left side of her face. She was wearing just enough makeup to make her eyes seem a little sunken, and a similar combination of clothing articles as she had at the match, save for a pair of knee-high black and purple striped socks, and black boots.

“Yeah,” Sara added, sitting down next to Jen, “the only reason any of us still pay attention to you when you pull something like this is because it means you have something important to say.” She was wearing a yellow t-shirt with a white stripe down the left side, and a black 9 on the right breast, matching yellow and white shorts, and black cleats. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and dirt caked her face, reminding Jo that Sara had just come from soccer practice.

“I’d still listen to you, even if it was about something dumb,” Tucker told Jo, taking the seat next to her. He was wearing black shorts, and a black t-shirt under a brown jacket with red stripes down the arms, and the symbol for the Checker Township Fire Department on the left breast. Jo remembered when he’d found that jacket the previous year, at a Goodwill.

Jo frowned at her friends, and then said, “This is all beside the point. I went day before yesterday to talk to the guy at the Megadojo.”

“And he apologized to you?” Sara asked, crossing her arms.

“Yeah,” Jo replied, and continued, “and he asked me something. Something that got me thinking. We have a decision to make. We formed this team to compete in the exhibition match, not so we could start a career as professional fighters. I mean, I’ve thought about that. I know you have too,” she looked over at Tucker, and he nodded, “but I’m not sure we’re ready for something like that.”

“I know I’m not,” said Sara. “I haven’t even graduated middle school yet. I’m pretty sure that most major tournaments wouldn’t even let me enter at my age.”

“What is this all about, Jo?” Jen asked, in the thoughtful way that she often did when she was fairly certain that she’d already worked out the answer.

Jo took a deep breath. What she had to tell the other Dueling Hearts was exciting, but it was also a huge deal, one that could shake up their lives for a long time to come. It wasn’t a question that they could take lightly. “I don’t know exactly why,” Jo told her friends, “if it was because we really impressed someone, or if it’s to make up for what that guy said to me, but Prometheus Corporation has offered to make us the face of the Megadojo. We’ll get free memberships, guaranteed entry into Megadojo events, in our area, and wherever they end up building more Megadojos later on, and financial help if we decide to pursue careers as Sol fighters.”

“That is a pretty big deal,” Jen said, nodding. Jo couldn’t tell from her cousin’s reaction if she had been right about what Jo had brought them together to say, and Jen didn’t confirm either way. Instead, she thought for a second, and then asked, “How official will this be? Will we need to get our parents involved? Will there be contracts? Will we be obligated to do anything?”

“There will be a contract,” Jo answered, “so we will need our parents’ permission. We’ll be expected to compete in major Megadojo events, if we can. And train there every now and then.”

“That’s going to be hard,” Sara told her sister. “I have other extracurriculars, and I’m not ready to give them up.”

“Which is why,” Jo told Sara, and the others, “we don’t just have to decide if we want to keep the team together, and if we want to do this, but also if we want to expand the team. We each know at least one other good Sol fighter. Our cousin Amanda, for one, or Kimi. If we add a few more people to the team, then we’ll have relief in case one or more of us can’t make it to a match.”

“Your cousin Amanda?” Tucker asked. “Isn’t she, like, eight years old?”

The other ignored him, and Jen said, “I wouldn’t be opposed to this, assuming that we can break this off at any time without legal ramifications. I’ve considered a career as a fighter before. Something like this would give me a chance to feel out whether or not it’s for me, without having to give up on school and travel around.”

“If we bring more people in,” Sara announced, “then I’m all for it.”

Jo looked over at Tucker. He frowned, “You know I want to be a pro, but I just don’t know if my dad’ll go for this. Hell, he might say “no” just to spite me, like that field trip two years ago.”

“Then we’ll forge his name,” Jo told her best friend, “like we did on your field trip permission slip. If you want to do this, I’ll make it happen, no matter what.”

Tucker thought about it for a second more, and then finally said, “Yeah, okay, let’s do it. Let’s become pros.”

The four fighters beamed at each other. They were excited, and they were proud. All of that was sapped away, however, when they heard a slow clapping from the direction of the dojo’s main entrance. The Dueling Hearts turned as one toward the noise. They had been so wrapped up in their conversation that they hadn’t heard anyone enter, let alone the three people who now stood before them.

Two of them were male. The tallest of them had light brown hair and hazel eyes that scrutinized the Dueling Hearts harshly. He wore a black t-shirt with a golden dragon decal printed across the chest., torn and faded black jeans, and a chain strapped to his belt loops. The next tallest, the other male of the group, had longer, darker hair that stuck out in random directions, but there was a certain order to that chaos. He wore a pressed button-up shirt under a purple silk vest, and black slacks. The look that he gave the Dueling Hearts was one of indifference.

The third, however, was the one who caught Jo’s eye, and moved her to stand. The only female of this group of interlopers stood in front of her two male companions. She was the shortest of the three, but only by a few inches. Jo guessed her to be an inch or two shorter than herself, and, like the other two, to be about Jo’s age. She was gorgeous, with silky brown hair that flowed down her back, eyes a shade or so lighter than Jo’s that shined like marbles behind square-framed glasses. Pale freckles dotted her nose and cheeks.

She didn’t have the physique of a fighter, instead having a rather womanly figure despite her age. She looked like she could be a model, and yet, just looking at her, Jo felt something strange, as if this young woman were the most imposing presence that she had ever encountered. Jo had to stop herself from staring. It was this young woman who had been clapping. “That’s inspiring,” she told Jo and Tucker, looking upon them, and the other two Dueling Hearts, with amusement.

The others must have also sensed something odd from these three, or they were just following Jo’s lead, because they stood as well and faced the three. After a second to find her voice, Jo said, “Sorry, but if you’re here to inquire about joining Wilson’s Dojo, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. It’s technically closed right now.”

“That’s not why we’re here,” the brown-haired girl replied. “I am Karen,” she announced, “and these are my teammates, Peter Lawrence,” she gestured to the tallest of her group, “and Montgomery Williams,” she gestured to the young man in the silk vest.

“Call us Monty and Lawrence,” Monty interjected.

“We represent an organization called the Sol Takers,” Karen continued, “and we’ve come looking for you four. You were impressive in your recent victory against Team Beatdown.”

Jo relaxed a little bit. These three still gave off a strange vibe, but now she at least had an idea of why they were here. Since beating Team Beatdown, there had been plenty of amateur fighters, and fans of Heart to Hearts, who had approached her and the other Dueling Hearts, randomly, wherever they went. Some wanted to praise them, some wanted to go at them for beating their favorite pro team, and others attempted to challenge them. Jo was getting a little sick of it. She simply wasn’t used to the attention yet, but with that being the reason for these three showing up, it at least gave her an idea of how to get rid of them quickly.

“I’m glad you guys liked the fight,” Jo told them, stepping closer to them, noticing, as she did, how nervous she became as she grew closer to Karen, “but this place is private property. I work here, so I’m allowed here after hours, but you’re technically trespassing.”

Jo smiled nicely at each of them in turn, “But, if you come back tomorrow, I’ll be here, and we can talk about the match.”

She made to guide the interlopers to the door, but stopped when Karen said, “Actually, that’s not why we’re here, either.”

Jo took a couple of uneasy steps back. “Do you want to challenge us?” she asked, starting to get a little concerned. These three weren’t really dressed for a fight, but that didn’t really mean anything. A lot of Sol fighters were practiced in fighting in their regular clothing. If these three did want to fight the Dueling Hearts, and they came here, at this hour, to issue their challenge, then they were likely very serious about it.

Karen smiled, “Yeah, I guess you can say it’s something like that.”

Jo nodded, and suppressed a frown, saying, “Well, the same point still stands. The dojo is closed until tomorrow. Come by then, and I’ll spar with you guys a little.”

“We don’t want to spar with you,” Karen countered. “We want a Heart to Heart, and we aren’t asking.”

She smiled again, “Isn’t it true that the old man who runs this place sleeps in a room behind the offices?”

She glanced in the direction of the wall separating the main section of the dojo from Wilson’s apartment. Standing by the door, the three interlopers were relatively close to it. Before Jo had a chance to realize what it was that Karen was saying, Karen nodded to Lawrence, and he reached toward the wall. As he flexed his arm, without any warning at all, that arm became surrounded by a huge avatar of an arm, even longer than Lawrence’s entire body. It was a similar golden color to the animal avatars that Jason had created with his Sol during the exhibition match, but where the color of Jason’s avatars had been a pale yellow-gold, this avatar shone a proud bright gold that lit up the room.

The huge arm didn’t have the proportions of a human arm. There was a texture to it, like scales, and it ended in four long, clawed fingers. It’s claws were less than an inch from the wall, and the arm was not fully outstretched. If Lawrence so chose, he could extend the huge arms even further, and knock the wall over onto the sleeping Wilson. He might even be able to reach inside and attack Wilson with it.

“What is this?” Jo asked, stunned.

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Karen answered. “If you don’t agree to fight us, we’ll kill the old man. And if you’re standing there thinking that, whatever we try, you four will be able to stop it, I promise you, Lawrence is just trying to be visually impressive. If we want to old man dead, we won’t have to rely on Lawrence’s power. Any one of us can do it in seconds, and we’re closer to him. Really think about it, are you sure that you can stop all three of us, when you don’t even know what we’re capable of?”

Jo looked to the others. Jen was considering the Sol Takers carefully. Tucker looked like he was ready to attack them. Sara looked somewhere between nervous and angry. Jo didn’t know if her friends would back her, she didn’t even know if she wanted them to, as serious as these three were, but she was not going to let them hurt Wilson.

“Fine,” Jo said, “there’s a lot out back. I’ll fight the three of you there.”

Karen smiled again, and shook her head, “Sorry, no, it’s all of you, or none of you.”

Jo was about to protest, but she didn’t have a chance. Tucker stepped up next to her, “If you guys want a fight, we’ll give you one.”

“You don’t get to go around making threats like that,” said Sara, ignoring the sweat running down her face.

“There’s only three of you,” said Jen logically, “and four of us. Our chances are good. But in exchange for this, you have to leave once the fight is over.”

Karen nodded. As she did, Lawrence lowered his arms to his side, and the avatar around it faded away. “Shall we?” Karen asked, and she and her companions led the way to the back lot of Wilson’s dojo, with Jo and the Dueling Hearts following close behind.

The back of the building was fairly well lit. A couple of nearby street lights, as well as a security light positioned above the back door of the building, made sure of that. Fighting here wouldn’t be a problem, and Jo was personality at a pretty large advantage, seeing how the three lights cast deep shadows that crossed each other at multiple points. If Jo was careful, she could use Shadow Step almost anywhere on the lot without having to stop even once. Even if these guys did see the fight with Christopher, they wouldn’t be ready for that.

The two groups reached the stage of their battle, and took up positions at opposite ends of the lot. It was the tallest one, Lawrence, who stepped onto the rubbery ground first, cracking his knuckles. “I get the first fight,” he said, his voice dripping with eager confidence. Listening to him, Jo was almost reminded of Tucker.

“How are we going to handle this?” Jo asked Karen. It was clear that she was the decision-maker of the group, after all. “We can’t have a proper teams match with an uneven number.”

Karen thought for a second, “How about this? We’ll have three separate Heart to Hearts. Monty and I will each fight one member of your team. Lawrence, since he’s so eager, will fight the remaining two. If your team wins even one victory, the three of us will leave.”

Jo was surprised. Karen sounded completely serious, and yet what she’d said didn’t make any sense. Lawrence was fighting first. If they only fought three Heart to Hearts, then that would mean that Karen intended for Lawrence to fight two people at the same time. There was no way he could win something like that. He’d lose, and Monty and Karen wouldn’t get a chance to fight at all. Still, it was the fastest way to get rid of these guys, so why not?”

“Okay,” Jo agreed. She was about to offer to be one of the fighters to take on Lawrence when Tucker cut her off.

“I’ll fight you,” Tucker announced, stepping forward and facing Lawrence. They glared at each other, and static leaped between them as their competitive energies mixed.

“Me too,” declared Jen, stepping forward as well. Jo moved to stop her, but Jen cut her off, saying, in a voice too quiet for Karen and her group to hear, “these guys are too confident. If they think that this Lawrence guy is tough enough to take on two of us at once, and he’s not even the one in charge, then the others could be even stronger. We need to save our best for last.”

She looked to Jo and Sara in turn, “And our best is you two, hands down. Besides, we all saw how big the arm of Lawrence’s avatar is. My gravity powers will have a huge affect on something that size. I’m the best choice to fight him. The choice is obvious.”

Jo couldn’t find any fault in Jen’s reasoning. That was pretty common. None of the Dueling Hearts were stupid, and Jo liked to think of herself as being uncommonly clever about fighting, but Jen was on a whole other level. She could come up with incredible strategies on the fly, and her creativity with Sol went far beyond Jo’s. It was never about pride or thrills with Jen. She felt those things, sure, but she approached each fight logically. If she was volunteering to fight someone, it was because she had thought it through and determined that she was the most likely to beat them. So Jo nodded, and Jen stepped up beside Tucker. The amount of energy filling the air between them increased even more, and yet Jo found her eyes once again wandering to Karen. She had to fight to peel them away, and focus on the impending action.

In the makeshift ring of rubberized turf, Jen took up her usual tight stance, while Tucker stood with his arms up, but his stance loose and open. Meanwhile, Lawrence paid the two of them little mind, not even bothering to guard. Jo found his behavior insulting, even though it was the same kind of thing that she did often when faced with fighters who she didn’t expect could beat her. Was this Lawrence’s attitude as well? Was he so convinced that he was stronger than two of the Dueling Hearts at once? Even if he was convinced, he was wrong. No one was that powerful.

Yet Karen didn’t seem concerned. The way she stood so nonchalantly on her team’s side of the makeshift arena, you would never know that she had started this match by threatening a man’s life. You would never know that her teammate was in a bad situation where he could easily find himself seriously hurt. Either she was just as unconcerned as Lawrence himself, or she just didn’t care. In fact, she seemed almost impatient to get things started. She looked from Jen, Tucker and Lawrence, to Jo, and said with a grin, “Let’s make this official, shall we? Team Dueling Hearts versus the Sol Takers, round one, let the Heart to Heart begin.”

Onward to Chapter Nine

[mctheshawol]

Get To Know Me Tag

Get to know Me Tag Rules: Complete the survey and say who tagged you in the beginning. When you are finished tag people to do this survey.

Thanks for the tag @bling-bling-is-jonghyun

1. Are you named after someone? um...no. 2. When is the last time you cried? I don’t really remember, but probably like 2 months ago??? (school related issues) 3. Do you like your handwriting? Meh not really 4. What is your favorite lunch meat? (dafuq?) Um probably smoke turkey 5. Do you have kids? Hell Nah 6. If you were another person, would you be friends with you? Of fucking course (I’m too nice T__T) 7. Do you use sarcasm? *snorts* “When do I not?” should be the question lol 8. Do you still have your tonsils? yes (what kind of question...?) 9. Would you bungee jump? Hell to the nah (I’m too scared) 10. What is your favorite kind of cereal? Reese Puffs ftw 11. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Not anymore, I just pull them off (literally just slip them on and off ^_^;;) 12. Do you think you’re a strong person? *snorts* I must be in order to put up with the ongoing B.S. in my life :/ 13. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Vanilla and sometimes if I’m feeling daring/extra I get peanut butter rumble (its like peanut butter mixed with tiny bits of chocolate and 90% vanilla) 14. What is the first thing you notice about people? Um...face obviously?? lol no but seriously I for some reason can feel the vibes from people and that will usually let me know if said person is cool or not to me (I know I sound crazy, but on god it be working lmao) 15. Red or Pink? Why not both??? 16.What is the least favorite physical thing you like about yourself? How my skin breaks out so easily over the simplest of things (*takes two sips of soda and instantly gets three pimples resurfacing* *Sprays a hint of perfume by the collar of my shirt, and my neck gets red and itchy* o.e) 17. What color of pants and shoes are you wearing now? Blue and I’m not wearing shoes rn, just basic white socks. 18. What was the last thing you ate? Um I haven’t eaten anything yet ^_^;; (currently making noodles as we speak) 19. What are you listening to right now? Uhhh, its a Super Mario World Remix (basically I instantly love any songs with a catchy beat) 20. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Probably dark purple 21. Favorite Smell? Oh~ I instantly gravitate towards all vanilla scented things and recently I love the smell of pure cocoa butter too. <3 22. Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? *ponders* Either my mom or dad. 23. Favorite sport to watch? None (but I use to watch Wrestling/WWE but I grew tired of it) 24. Hair Color? Extremely Dark brown/Black hair (its two-toned??) 25. Eye Color? Brown af. 26. Do you wear contacts? No. 27. Favorite food to eat? Noodles (there’s a lot more but its mainly noodles lol) 28. Scary movies or comedy? Again why not both? 29. Last movie you watched? The Titanic (my feels ;_;) 30. What color of your shirt are you wearing? Dark Gray with a panda on it <3 31. Summer or Winter? Winter 32. Hugs or kisses? Both is good. 33. What books are you currently reading? None 34. Who do you miss right now? My BFF 35. What is on your mouse pad? (again dafuq?) Nothing but scratch marks? 36. What is the last TV program you watched? The Power Puff Girls (even though I prefer the original/old school version :/) 37. What is the best sound? There’s too many for me to name ^_^;; 38. Rolling Stones or The Beatles? Uh...Neither? 39. What is the furthest you have ever traveled? West Virginia?? (I’m too poor lol) 40. Do you have any special talent? *ponders* Uh......I like to believe that I have a mass knowledge of presidential facts??? (I’m a history nerd ^_^;;;;) 41. Where were you born? USA 42. People you expect to participate in this survey? @xingdaddycentral if you don’t mind/if you haven’t done it already? ^__^;;;

[womenofcolor15]

2020 GRAMMYS CARPET: Chris Brown On Dad Duty, Cardi Floated & Dripped, Tyler Drips Doorman Swag, Lauren London, Big Freedia, Chyna

Although everyone was hurting after hearing the news of Kobe Bryant’s death, celebs hit the red carpet for the 62nd Annual Grammy Awards inside the Staples Center. Peep the red carpet flicks inside…

The vibes for the 62nd Annual Grammy Awards were a bit somber and subdued as hours before news broke that NBA legend Kobe Bryant and his 13-year-old daughter Gianna Bryant died in a helicopter crash. Kobe spent his entire 20-season career with the Los Angeles Lakers inside the Staples Center. With fans gathered outside of the multi-purpose arena, celebs trekked inside to celebrate music and remember an icon.

Several celebs declined to speak with the press after learning about Kobe’s death, which is totally understandable as we all were stunned and shocked by the tragic news.

        View this post on Instagram

                  @muglerofficial on me @chromeheartsofficial on Daddy @offsetyrn

A post shared by Cardib (@iamcardib) on Jan 26, 2020 at 7:26pm PST

        View this post on Instagram

                  @muglerofficial

A post shared by Cardib (@iamcardib) on Jan 26, 2020 at 7:25pm PST

  Cardi B and Offset dripped hard on the carpet in Mugler and Chrome Hearts.

  R&B crooner Chris Brown – who was nominated for Best R&B Song for his track “No Guidance” – brought his 5-year-old daughter Royalty Brown as his date for the evening. The mini fashionista rocked a cream sweater over a white blouse with a matching cream skirt, black boots and white ruffled socks. Her famous dad debuted colorful hair – half pink, half blue. He wore a yellow and cream Prada sweater paired with black trousers for the ceremony.

Big sister Royalty - who welcomed her baby brother Aeko Catori Brown last month - is already learning how to snap a quick selfie with fans from her dad. Check it:

  Chris Brown e sua filha Royalty chegando no #GRAMMYs #Grammys2020!pic.twitter.com/dCHD8BXl7C

— Portal Chris Brown Brasil |(@portalbreezy) January 27, 2020

  Too cute.

This year’s Grammy Awards paid tribute to late rapper Nipsey Hussle, so his entire family was there to see it, including his soul mate/son’s mother Lauren London (rocking Pamella Roland), his daughter Emani Asghedom (who attended the Grammys with her dad last year), Nipsey’s sister Samantha Smith, and Nispey’s grandmother.

The tribute included performances by Meek Mill, John Legend, DJ Khaled, YG, Roddy Ricch and Kirk Franklin, which went down after winning his first Grammy posthumously.

Watch the family accept his Grammy below:

  Nipsey just won a Grammy. His family came to the stage to accept the award.

The Marathon Continues pic.twitter.com/IhUlRvYbDh

— Andrew Barber (@fakeshoredrive) January 26, 2020

  After the tribute, Nip copped another Grammy for Best Rap/Sung Performance for his feature on DJ Khaled’s “Higher” with John Legend.

Before hitting the stage, John Legend rocked a gray pleated Alexander McQueen suit.

His wife/model Chrissy Teigen (and our fave meme-able face during awards shows) joined him on the carpet in an orange ruffled Yanina Couture dress.

Can't say this is our fave.

New dad again DJ Khaled rocked a black suit with red and black Nike sneakers on the carpet.

Grammy & Oscar winning artist Common remembered Kobe Bryant when he stopped to talk to the media.

“We all feel it in our own way but his family, his loved ones feel it in another way,” he said. I’m just giving it to God and hopefully, today we can celebrate through music and different things, but there’s nothing that can take away from what life is.”

“I just want to say, God bless his soul and his daughter, and everyone who was on that helicopter,” he continued. “Man, it just makes you think about people in the world. And we love him.”

"The Chi" actor later performed for a tribute to Trustee Award winner and longtime Grammy Awards executive producer Ken Ehrlich. He hit the stage for a performance with Misty Copeland Camila Cabello, Ben Platt, The War and Treaty for "I Sing The Body Electric" from the musical "Fame."

Oh yeah, and Common was looking GOODT in his maroon Dolce & Gabbana suit.

Before hitting the stage with FKA Twigs and Shelia E to pay tribute to Prince, Usher rocked Balmain on the carpet. It's not horribly bad, but we would have liked to see something more polished.

Before FKA worked that pole on stage, the singer posed it up in this pink and black Ed Marler concoction. Are we feeling it?

Before winning Best Rap Album (his first Grammy ever) and performing at the Grammys, Tyler the Creator served up doorman swag in a pink and red Golf Le Fleur outfit.

After the show, he reacted to Kobe's death:

  Tyler, the Creator reacts to Kobe Bryant’s death: “That news was heavy, especially just being in LA and just being here at the Staples Center” https://t.co/25sWs8vInB #Grammys pic.twitter.com/DDSojKYhkx

— Variety (@Variety) January 27, 2020

  Peep his acceptance speech (and his super happy mother) below:

Rap couple Quavo and Saweetie have been all over LA during Grammy weekend, so it was no surprise when they popped up on the carpet together.

The Migos rapper rocked a custom red and black Prada suit.

Meanwhile, his "ICY" girlfriend dazzled in Moschino.

And look who else came out...

We don't seem him often, but Migos rapper Takeoff was in the Grammy mix.

Gucci Mane (who rocked a Gucci suit) and his wife Keyshia Ka'oir Davis rolled up on the scene in matching 'fits.

On the red carpet, Mrs. Davis said it took her five hours to get dress because she ended up breaking a zipper on her dress. So, they had to sew her in it. By the way, Gucci Mane revealed he has pieces coming out with Italian luxury brand, Gucci. The rapper also talked about his Grammy nomination with Lizzo and more. Check it:

Singer Khalid was nominated for Record of the Year for his track "Talk." Unfortunately, Billie Eilish won for "Bad Boy." This is his 6th Grammy nomination.

Rapper YBN Cordae landed his first two nominations for Best Rap Song ("Bad Idea") and Best Rap Album (The Lost Boy). He didn't win, but he was SUPER ecstatic to even be nominated.

Lil Nas X had one hell of a night in his bright pink cowboy inspired Versace suit.

The 6-time nominee won his first two Grammy Awards ever - one for Best Pop Duo/Group Performance and one for Best Music Video, both for "Old Town Road (Remix)." Congrats!

He also hit the stage to perform "Old Town Road" and "Panini" where he brought out rapper Nas, Young Thug, BTS and Billy Ray Cyrus. Peep his performance HERE.

Young Thug also hit the carpet in this outfit before the stage.

"POSE" actor Billy Porter went full glam cowboy in a sparkly teal Baja East 'fit topped with a custom wide brimmed Sarah Sokol Millinery hat.

Bounce queen Big Freedia - who was featured in a Facebook commercial during the show - also served up cowboy vibes.

          View this post on Instagram

                      A post shared by Big Freedia (@bigfreedia) on Jan 26, 2020 at 5:11pm PST

  Rapper Swae Lee was asked what he was wearing on the red carpet and he said "Peter Dunbar." He meant a custom 'fit by Peter Dundas.  He was nominated for Record of the Year and Best Pop Duo/Group Performance for "Sunflower" with Post Malone.

Lady in red!

Since Blac Chyna has been trying to get her feet wet in the rap game, she made her way to the Grammys to celebrate the biggest night in music.

        View this post on Instagram

                  Beauty at its finest... Grammys

A post shared by Blac Chyna (@blacchyna) on Jan 26, 2020 at 9:33pm PST

  Anderson Paak ended the night as a two-time Grammy winner, nabbing the Best R&B Album Award for Ventura and R&B Performance for "Come Home" with André 3000. Congrats!

Before she hit the stage to perform alongside host Alicia Keys, 11-time Grammy nominated and 4-time winning artist Brittany Howard hit the carpet in this green, black with a touch of gold ensemble. She was nominated for two awards, Best Rock Performance & Best Rock Song for "History Repeats."

"The Daily Show" host Trevor Noah was nominated for his first Grammy ever in the Best Comedy Album category for his Netflix stand up "Trevor Noah: Son of Patricia." Comedian Dave Chappelle ended up winning the award. On the carpet, he jokingly said he already knew Dave was going to take home the award.

When asked about Kobe Bryant's death on the carpet, he said “I don’t think I’ve processed anything yet.”

He said it felt strange in the Staples Center where Kobe played his entire career.

"It's one of those experiences where you can feel it. Today is all about being present," he said.

Rapper Rick Ross - who was nominated for Best Rap Song for "Gold Roses" featuring Drake - opened up about how late rapper Nipsey Hussle inspired his track "Gold Roses"

The MMG honcho also remembered NBA legend Kobe Bryant:

By the way Rozay was wearing Hideoki Bespoke, which was founded by Dedrick Hideoki Hagiwara Thomas.

Rappers Yo Gotti and 21 Savage made their way on the carpet. Singer Ty Dolla Sign was also in the mix:

21 Savage (above alongside his mom) was nominated for two Grammys and won one for Best Rap Song for "A Lot." Congrats!

Ty Dolla Sign (above next to his girlfriend Lauren Jauregui) was nominated for Best Dance Recording for "Midnight Hour" with Boys Noize, Skrillex.

Rap legend LL Cool J was in the mix.

Producer DJ Mustard - who was nominated for Best Rap/Sung Performance for "Ballin" with Roddy Ricch - reacted to Kobe and his daughter's death on the carpet while making his way down the carpet with his fiancee Chanel Thierry.

"This doesn't seem real right now," he said. "Love and respect and blessings to his family. I pray that we pray for them [and] everybody shows love to the family."

Singer Dreezy looked gorge in a black high-low dress that she said was her 2nd pick since she couldn't fit her custom first pick for her first Grammy ceremony.

  If my fat ass gain one more pound...

— BIG OG DREEZ (@dreezydreezy) January 26, 2020

    We had a custom dress made that I was gonna wear that I LOVED but I couldn't fit it. But good thing we had the black dress for back up lol.

— BIG OG DREEZ (@dreezydreezy) January 27, 2020

  She also sent love to Kobe's family on the carpet:

  .@dreezydreezy gives her love to Kobe Bryant and his family! #KobeBryant #BETRemembers #GRAMMYs pic.twitter.com/xAExooWZ6L

— BET Music (@BETMusic) January 26, 2020

  Uncle Charlie Wilson hit the carpet before hitting the stage with Boyz II Men for Tyler the Creator's Grammy performance.

Yeah Boy! Flavor Flav was in the mix as his rap group Public Enemy was awarded the Lifetime Achievement Award:

Ballerina Misty Copeland hit the carpet before she performed a beautiful routine with dancers from the Debbie Allen Dance Academy.

Beyonce's stylist Ty Hunter looked bomb in his futuristic 'fit.

Wyclef Jean made it a date night with his wife Claudinette Jean.

"Growing Up Hip Hop" stars JoJo & Angela Simmons brought their little sister Miley Simmons for the Grammy event. She's growing up!

Grammy winning artist Questlove stepped for the Grammys.

Esperanza Spalding won the Grammy Award for Best Jazz Vocal Album for 12 Little Spells. Congrats!

TV host Nina Parker showed off her curves in this brown Lynne Carter Ateliermidi dress. On social media, she talked about how hard the night was for her after learning about Kobe's death:

          View this post on Instagram

                  Today was HARD. I can’t lie, it was difficult to report on something fun when so much tragedy hit so quickly. But I do want to take a second to take in this moment, feel absolutely BLESSED, and thank all the people who worked hard to get me on this red carpet tonight. I appreciate every single moment. Gown: Custom collaboration w @lynne_carter_atelier MUA: @beautybybeyina Hair: @kymmscreations Wardrobe stylist: @ashleyloewen Wardrobe stylist asst: @khai_st_lawrence

A post shared by Nina Parker (@mzgossipgirl) on Jan 26, 2020 at 8:35pm PST

  Def a hard night for everyone.

Congrats to this year's winners.

Photos: Getty/MEGA

[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2020/01/27/2020-grammys-carpet-chris-brown-on-dad-duty-lauren-london-holds-it-down-for-nipsey-tyler-

[sustainhealthmagazine]

International supermodel Adriana Lima introduces boxing-inspired performance pieces with strong streetwear influence

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By CELEBRITY EDITOR FOR SUSTAIN HEALTH 

PUBLISHED: 07:12, 25 November 2019 | UPDATED: 07:42, 25 November 2019

Welcome to Club Lima

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Club Lima opened for business. PUMA and Adriana Lima launched their first collection together; the classic performance pieces have a streetwear and boxing influence that complement any wardrobe. Retro graphics elevate understated blacks and greys, functional materials, and flawless fits. The performance footwear is not only great for the gym, but it can easily translate to the street when needed. With ready training features and overall gritty vibe, everyone will be a champ of Club Lima.

Boxing is important in Adriana’s life; she’s been doing it for more than 18 years. That’s where she got the inspiration and partnered with PUMA to create a collection that would not only make her perform to her fullest but also look great while doing so. The collection has her touch, her life, and her heart – she’s been working long and hard with PUMA’s design team to make sure everything is perfect and up to her standards.

“Being able to have my own collection has been a dream come true. My partnership with PUMA has been extremely collaborative, not only being able to be the face of several of their campaigns, but now launching my very own,” said Adriana Lima. “I took inspiration from retro boxing, as this sport has been my passion, and chose four of my favorite colors to bring this collection to life: gray, red, black, and white. I’ve been working tirelessly with PUMA’s design teams to make sure everything was perfect, every stitch, every detail, every material. I hope everyone likes what we’ve come up with, as it’s made with so much love and care.”

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With threads tied to boxing culture, the PUMA x Adriana Lima collection is made for tough-as-hell females who lead with their heart and jab with a purpose. All of the collection pieces were created thinking of performance first, but with an urban flair, so, they are perfect for moving from the ring to the streets.

This brand-new collection includes some people’s favorites, reinvented by Adriana. The LQD CELL Shatter XT AL goes head-to-head with expectations and breaks right through them, this trainer features provocative geometric design, its engineered for breathability, and has a LQD CELL stable-cushioned midsole featuring a shattered glass effect. This reinvented LQD CELL Shatter bootie comes with two different upper options, one done with engineered mesh, and the other with a mix of leather and suede overlays; choose whichever you feel compliment your style the best.

Built for people who wear grit as their only accessory, but still like to show some shine under a low-cut tank is the AL Always Ready Bra. With great support for training and mesh ventilation for breathability, you’re always ready to push it. Adriana’s favorite piece is the AL Hoodie; this oversized piece features a deep hood, cropped fit, and AL label for added graphic detail. Consider it your champion tag-team partner.

The AL Tight is a training staple. The high-waisted tights are designed with targeted compression where you need it, while the coated fabric features a mesh panel for breathability and back pocket for storage.

And, a lot of accessories will highlight any look. The knee-high socks add a bold statement to any training look. The training gloves feature laser-cut detailing, shiny binding, and a silk-woven label for your toughest workouts. And the performance beanie that goes way beyond the gym, featuring a silk-woven label and slouchy fit, wear it wherever.

The PUMA x Adriana Lima Collection is the perfect companion for the season, it became available globally on November 1st at PUMA.com and selected retailers worldwide.

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[69annebowlin69]

5-6/8/19 Watching True Detective Episode Eight Finale

5/8/19

16.53

I can’t work on anything else so i’m writing this up now to salvage this afternoon. Not up for cops and pseudo-philosophy.

One night the summer we all started taking pills, we were at my dad’s house after a party, i can’t remember where my dad was, but Adam said something about how with the Picasso and Kandinsky prints on the wall, it was like a pseudo-intellectual’s house, and because i didn’t know properly what pseudo meant or had such low opinion of my family and i, i took it as a compliment, that at least we were grasping to look like something more than we were. I hate this memory. Why couldn’t i defend myself. I would defend it now. Adam’s family had a fucking New Yorker cover print framed on their wall.

16.58

Hays’ jeans are too tight; his dialogue with Hoyt is a Previously On with the eery music. It hasn’t started raining outside yet.

16.59

This mf Hoyt literally dragged Hays from his house to walk through the Ozarks swigging bourbon and sobbing about the myth of the ideal family. I hate this show. Masculine posturing bullshit, but like a parody of the machismo that people mock online. As previously mentioned, i’m not one to shy away from the Big Opinion. This season more trash than season 2.

17.07

Damn dude sometimes you gotta burn your suit at 3 in the morning, give him a break.

17.18

I had to get the torch out myself the other night. One of the giant snails disappeared. Best friend and i looked high and

17.36

Sorry, the last entry wasn’t even worth finishing, and i had to go to the toilet to scroll the 40 pictures i took of passages from books over the past year. Some of them i couldn't even remember what they were, too much Tao Lin from before i read Richard Yates and saw how problematic he was; a lot of Liveblog, maybe my fav book ever.

17.38

What i look like, a snapshot:

the cheap sports direct adidas striped sliders with nike tube socks (white)

Black chino shorts (dirty, the only proper pair of shorts i own)

T-shirt of the keith haring statue of liberty print (too hack to wear in NYC; Eve’s mum got me it)

Hair “half-up” like Eve’s

Monobrow stubble at the top of my nose that i haven’t excised in a couple of days

Beard just about too long

jaw clenched

stomach gross

My legs are so bulbous, like why was i born with such ridiculous protruding legs. Not muscly, hefty. Very gross. Gross.

17.43

All i’ll eat tonight is a peanut butter and banana sandwich and an apple. Sorry, i have to try again with other Personal Projects. I don’t want to watch this show. i can’t watch this show right now. I’m no insider but there is maybe six per cent of a chance that HBO run it back for a fourth.

***

6/8/19

20.25

Emmy said she wouldn’t be impressed if i were to get in to a fight. I laid out a whole hypothetical where someone gets thrown out the bar where we work and is needling me the whole time. I take off outside after him and we get in to it, but it’s outside work premises. Asked her A) if she thought i was meek, B) would she understand if i threw fists in that instance and C) would i get fired. She wouldn’t be impressed and thought it was the bigger thing to do to let it slide. Also the police would get involved which would effect the work thing.

Pete’s been in fights. People are always getting in fights in the past. I’ve never seen anyone i know who’s been in a fight when they were actually fighting. The fights in True Detective are all in the past. Emmy said she doesn’t think i’m meek.

20.28

Mr Scotland (Peter Mullan) also does a show set in the Ozarks and what i think is that his southern accent was so bad that it had to be edited in post production. During his dialogue, the camera cuts to a reaction shot from his equally sociopathic wife or the Arrested Development guy, which is wildly disrespectful to a man who was trying to play an abusive maniacal southern drug kingpin instead of the usual abusive maniacal alcoholic Scottish criminal. This is what happens when someone tries to branch out and why so many people are scared of failure. Anyway, we’re not here to talk about rival crime shows set in the Ozarks. We’ve got a child sex ring to uncover and Dorff heat to savour.

20.30

Would be nice to have the honesty in a relationship where you can tell one another you should probably give up on a central arterial line of your life and move elsewhere. Emmy and i tell one another something like ‘you should quit’ all the time but neither of us really believe the other when they say they will. I don’t believe her when she says I love you during sex. It feels like a placeholder for real-life emotions or intensity that she’s still waiting to feel.

20.32

Quality of office lighting: strip lights, squares placed amongst the cardboard tiles, headache grain, staticky, unnervingly silent, revealing, bags under eyes, shadowy somehow, depersonalising, unaltering.

Quality of school lights from Euphoria: suplhate glare, neon, alienating and spooky but in a fun way?, fireworks! makes you say ‘it’s like a club in here,’ glitchy, Fireworks!, transformative.

20.36

Roland in the afterglow of starting a mass bar brawl then getting emotional over a mongrel, sipping straight Jack. Damn, to have memories like that. Roland didn’t have a gf telling him it wouldn’t be impressive or cool getting into brawls.

20.38

Like how they announce Man of the Match before the Match is even over (seems presumptive), i’ll be announcing my top crushes from this season VERY shortly.

20.39

Yup, not long to go until my number one crush from this True Detective Season is announced, as well as numbers two, three and probably four and five. It’s been markedly less horny than previous seasons, so we’re including different iterations of the same characters. It’s dry out here in the 80s.

22.02

There are noises in our living room, not like threatening banging or whatever, but people. There are friends in our living room. Not that we’re here to talk about popular 90s NBC sitcoms.

23.35

Everyone is here in our flat again tonight these snails have made us so popular.

Lucy put Mr Rightside on her arm.

Mil cast Bad Medicine to the TV and Jane suggested Van Halen.

Damon put on Carlyle Williams and Mil decided he couldn't apply for a Montreal visa until he found out what Sarah wanted.

Best friend and Jane cast Cold in my Veins. Mil got sad and started rallying for the TV to be turned off.

Best friend and Jane cast a Big Train sketch where Chairman Mao is dying and then the flatlining heart monitor turns into the opening riff of Virginia Plain and Chairman Mao recovers to sing.

Best friend cast the shooting stars where Vic and Bob do Virginia Plain and we listed the most recent instances we could remember of celebrity blackface.

I text Emmy if she wanted to work together tomorrow instead of taking the mushroom pills.

I feigned interest in a story about a kayak Jane told because i think she’s cool and want her to like me.

Lucy and Damon were lame when they left. Lameon lol.

Best friend turned off the tv and he and Jane went for a tab. Mil talked about Sarah.

Jane said she could get acid for Lucy but not this weekend and left.

Steve came in to ask if he could shut the door and I left to watch this episode.

00.07

This one-eyed mf talking like it’s Wuthering Heights and he’s [whoever the Irish housekeeper is who does most of the first half’s narration]. Recalling some vague terrible accident that blighted a rich-ass family, that should have zero impact on his one-eyed ass.

00.10

His story is very Woman in Black. Would love a Pizzolato reading list from this season. Friend of the blog Nick Pizzolato, please send me your reading list and influences.

00.12

It’s always too late. No matter what we do. Damn. That’s some extremely defeatist shit. Old people, you think they all feel this way. A cop out. These detective shows, i want meaning from them. Structure. Some kind of organisation that i can understand and trace, not this.

00.21

Roland and Hays hanging out, staying over at one another’s house. Can’t wait to be old, hanging out just me and the boys. Like how homes have a similar vibe to halls, just at the point on the back end of your life, symmetrical to the front. Just playing old Final Fantasies, absolutely on pills. Distracted during family visits because i have more gaming to do and a year left at most. Sounds reassuring. The long term doesn’t matter, so you do only the things that produce instant gratification.

00.32

Googled “what’s the word for when one thing is the same on one side as it is on the other’ lol then i cried at this stupid show. Mahershala Ali transcends this dumbass show and it’s writing and is  doing something complex and satisfying and sad. Pulling together what he can of this jumble that sometimes makes sense and most of the time is not worthy of us trying to make sense of it.

00.42

Ok, here it is. True Detective season three Crush List:

5. Me all the days i wrote this and didn’t throw up whatever i’d just eaten. Very proud and horny for u, my boy

4. 1990 Roland with the rockabilly blazer

3. Hays in the tight acid wash jeans

2. Amelia’s dulcet monotone transcends being annoying around the middle of the season and turns alluring, like i need to hear it for thirty per cent each episode. It’s pretentious but in a way that makes you wish you were pretentious

1a. Hays burning his clothes in the dead of night. Mysterious. Jacked. Sweating as hell. Haunted.

1b. Everyone who checked out during the front end of this season - intelligence is a quality that personally makes me very horny and they displayed plenty of it by forseeing that this season would be a less exciting mess than last. Would love for them to contact me to just like hang out and watch a different show, if they want.