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saltandburnsis · 4 years ago

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dead in the water, pt. 2

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam

Age: 20

Warnings: Drowning mention

Word Count: 2,993

Summary: The investigation brings on new connections, revelations and deaths around every corner as you and your brothers get closer to finding the real monster of Lake Manitoc.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent messages while I was away. I appreciate every one of you so, so much. Thankfully (and miraculously) both of my grandparents have made full recoveries. (Still positive for COVID but symptom-free.) As usual, all dialogue taken directly from the episode will be in italics.

~ ~ ~ ~

“So, there’s the three drowning victims from this year,” Sam said, his eyes never leaving the computer screen in front of him. You were going through the clothes with Dean, silently planning a trip to the local laundromat as the “too used to wear again” pile grew larger and larger by the second.

“And before that?” Dean asked, lifting a shirt to his nose before setting it down on the bed beside him—the first of few wearable clothes.

“Uh, yeah. Six more, spread out over the past 35 years. Those bodies were never recovered, either. If there is something out there, it’s picking up its pace,” Sam replied.

“So, what? We got a lake monster on a binge?” Dean threw a pair of jeans to the large pile behind you.

“This whole lake monster theory—it just bugs me,” you cut in, mimicking your eldest brother’s actions. At this rate, you’d spend more time at the laundromat than working on the case.

“Why?” Dean asked. Sam continued to click through the articles on his screen.

“Loch Ness, Lake Champlain—there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, there’s almost nothing. Whatever is out there, no one’s living to talk about it,” you explained. Dean walked over to Sam, standing behind him and reading over his shoulder. He pointed at one of the articles.

“Bar. Christopher Bar. Where have I heard that name before?” he asked.

“Christopher Bar, the victim in May,” Sam mused, clicking around a bit to find the article he was looking for.

“Isn’t that Andrea’s last name?” you asked as he searched, making your way over to the table and leaning over Sam’s right shoulder. He pulled up the article he was looking for, and the three of you were met with a picture of Lucas. He was wrapped in a towel, and you could only assume it was his grandfather standing beside him.

“Huh. Christopher Bar was Andrea’s husband. Lucas’s father. Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued,” Sam summarized. He clicked on the picture so it filled the screen, Lucas’s terrified face staring back at you.

“Maybe we have an eyewitness after all,” you said, moving away from the table and looking anywhere but the picture. Dean did the same, though his eyes were locked on the computer screen.

“No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn’t something you just get over.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Dean pulled up to the playground, and parked. He didn’t shut the car off, however, until he’d surveyed the area and spotted Andrea.

“Let’s go” was all he said before getting out of the car. He waited for you and Sam to get out before starting the walk over to where Andrea sat.

“Can we join you?” Sam asked once the three of you were in close proximity to her. Andrea looked up at the three of you and smiled.

“I’m here with my son,” she replied, glancing over at Lucas before turning back to you.

“Oh. Mind if I say ‘hi’?” Dean asked. Without waiting for a response, he turned away and walked towards Lucas. Andrea scoffed, smiling, and looked back at you and Sam.

“Tell your friend this whole “Jerry McGuire” thing’s not going to work on me,” she said.

“I don’t think that’s what this is about,” you answered, giving her a small, reassuring smile before looking back at Dean. Andrea mimicked your smile before turning her attention to Dean and her son. She rose from her seat and stood beside you on your left, Sam to your right. The three of you watched in an awkward silence for a moment, like parents only congregated to ensure their children’s safety. You decided to break the tense stillness.

“So, has Lucas always been so…reserved?” You asked, watching as Lucas almost refused to acknowledge Dean’s presence. A humorless laugh escaped Andrea’s lips, and she turned to face you.

“No, no. He used to be so talkative when he was younger. He shut down when his dad passed.”

“We’re sorry to hear that,” Sam interjected when Andrea paused. She sighed, crossing her arms. “I’ve taken him to therapists…done everything under the sun that I could, but still, Lucas hasn’t said a word. Not even to me. Not since his dad’s accident.”

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” said Dean as he went to stand beside her.

“What are the doctors saying?” Sam asked. Andrea sighed again, a sort of exasperated sigh that usually accompanied information relayed countless times.

“Oh, that it’s a kind of post-traumatic stress,” she replied. Something about her tone led you to believe she didn’t believe that herself.

“That can’t be easy for either of you,” you sympathized.

“We moved in with my dad. That helps a lot. It’s just…when I think about what Lucas went through—what he saw…” Andrea trailed off, focusing her gaze back on her son.

“Kids are strong. You’d be surprised what they can deal with,” Dean assured her.

“You know, he used to have such life. He was so hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth.” Her nostalgic smile was short-lived as her thoughts settled back in the present. “Now, he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—” She cut herself off when Lucas approached, bending slightly to greet the boy. “Hey, sweetie.” Lucas kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, but went to Dean’s side and held out a picture.

“Thanks.” Dean took the picture and looked down at it. “Thanks, Lucas.” He turned his head to look back at the younger boy, but he’d already set back toward the bench. Andrea watched him for a moment then looked back at Dean, mouth slightly agape.

~ ~ ~ ~

The door of your motel room swung open and Sam walked in, letting it shut itself.

“So, I think it’s safe to say we can rule out Nessie,” he announced. He looked to Dean, who sat at the end of the bed currently covered in clothes—clean clothes you’d just brought back from the laundromat.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked as Sam sat at the edge of the second bed.

“I just drove by the Carlton’s house,” he explained. “There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.”

“He drowned?” Dean asked in disbelief.

“Yep, in the sink.”

“What the hell? So, Y/N is right; this isn’t a creature. We’re dealing with something else,” said Dean.

“Yeah, but what?” you asked, dropping the shirt in your hands. Sam shook his head.

“I don’t know. A water wraith maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water…” Dean trailed off, and the three of you looked at each other, eyes widening with the revelation you seemed to come to simultaneously. “Water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake,” you continued your brother’s thoughts. “Which would explain why it’s upping the body count. The lake is draining. It’ll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it’s running out of time.”

“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone almost anywhere,” Sam added.

“This is going to happen again soon.” Dean moved to sit at the table and began putting his shoes back on, ready to go after this thing. You grabbed your boots from their spot beside the bed.

“And we do know one other thing for sure,” Sam continued. “We know that this has got something to do with Bill Carlton.”

“Yeah. It took both his kids,” you said, pointing out the obvious in Sam’s statement as you tied your laces.

“And I’ve been asking around. Lucas’s dad, Chris—Bill Carlton’s godson,” Sam revealed.

“Let’s go pay Mr. Carlton a visit,” Dean decided, rising from his seat.

~ ~ ~ ~

As if he’d never moved from the last time the three of you visited his home, Bill Carlton sat on his dock, looking out at the water. His back was to the house, and he made no move to acknowledge your arrival at any point as the three of you walked over. His grief was obvious in his movements—or lack of, that is—but it was a whole other thing to see the despair on his face, the sorrow in his eyes when you approached the man.

“Mr. Carlton?” Sam asked. “We’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“We’re from the Department of-”

“I don’t care who you’re with,” Bill cut Dean off. “I’ve answered enough questions today.” His voice quivered as he spoke, always on the verge of tears. You stepped forward to speak with him.

“Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there?” Your voice was empathetic, but professional—you’d found it was enough to give you an air of authority, but comforting enough to allow you to gain the trust of your witness. Bill, however, remained silent, refusing to meet your gaze. “Mr. Carlton, Sophie’s drowning and Will’s death—we think there might be a connection. To you or your family.”

“My children are gone. It’s…it’s worse than dying.” Bill blinked away tears and finally turned to look up at you. The air fell still for a moment, punctuating his words. He turned away before he spoke again. “Go away…please.” Dean nudged you before nodding his head in the direction of the car. You wouldn’t get anywhere badgering him any further. Sam and Dean left the dock, but you stayed planted in your spot, pursing your lips.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. Bill only looked down at the ground and shut his eyes. With that, you finally turned and followed your brothers back to the car.

“What do you think?” Sam asked once you were back at the car and out of Bill’s earshot.

“I think the poor guy’s been through hell. I also think he’s not telling us something.” Dean answered.

“So now what?” Sam asked, resting his arms on the hood of the car. You went to stand beside him, ready to get in, but Dean had stopped and was now looking up at the house.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Huh. Maybe Bill’s not the only one who knows something.” He pulled Lucas’s picture out of his jacket pocket and held it out in front of him. The drawing was identical to the house standing before you.

~ ~ ~ ~

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Andrea said, putting her hands on her hips.

“I just need to talk to him, just for a few minutes,” Dean pleaded.

“He won’t say anything. What good’s it gonna do?” Andrea asked him. Sam was the one to answer her.

“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something’s happening out there.”

“My husband, the others—they just drowned. That’s all.” Andrea shook her head, adamant in her beliefs. You sighed.

“If that’s what you really believe, then we’ll go,” you said. “But if you think there’s even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let Dean talk to your son.” Andrea didn’t reply, and she cast her gaze downward. You could practically see the gears turning as she weighed the pros and cons of letting the three of you upstairs. Moments later, she looked back at the three of you and nodded.

“Alright.” She moved past you and walked up the stairs, motioning for the three of you to follow. You stood against the wall once you’d all reached Lucas’s room, standing close enough to see what was going on, but far enough back to give Dean space to do his thing without an audience. He stepped into the room and knelt down on the floor beside Lucas.

“Hey, Lucas. Remember me?” It was silent for a moment as he looked down at two of Lucas’s pictures. “You know, I, uh…I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again.” Dean pulled the picture of the Carlton house out of his pocket and set it down in front of Lucas. “How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me. You’re scared.” Dean nodded. “It’s okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn’t feel like talking, just like you. But, see, my mom, I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that everyday. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe your dad wants you to be brave, too.” You quickly wiped a tear from your eye. The three of you had always had a bond, having lost your mothers to demons at such young ages, but Dean was the only one with real, concrete memories of Mary. Having been two when your own mother passed, you had a vague recollection of her, but nothing as real as what Dean had.

Suddenly, Angela’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open again. You looked back into the room to see what you had missed. Lucas was looking up at Dean, meeting his eyes. He grabbed another picture and held it out to your brother. Dean looked down at it then smiled at the boy. “Thanks, Lucas.”

~ ~ ~ ~

You sat in the back of the car, leaning forward and looking over Sam’s shoulder at the picture he held in his hands. Dean sped down the street, headed back towards the motel.

“Andrea said the kid never drew like that ’til his dad died,” Dean said.

“There are cases. Going through a traumatic experience could make certain people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies—” Sam relayed some Supernatural Psychology 101, but was cut off by Dean.

“Whatever’s out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?” He asked. Sam started to respond, but Dean continued his thought. “I mean, it’s only a matter of time before somebody else drowns. So if you got a better lead, please.”

“Alright,” Sam relented. “We got another house to find.”

“The only problem is, there’s about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone,” Dean complained. You reached forward and took the picture from Sam, moving it so Dean could better see it.

“See this church?” You asked, pointing to the building in the foreground. “Bet there’s less than a thousand of those around here.”

“Oh, kid thinks she’s so smart,” Dean mocked. You smirked.

“Only ‘cause I am,” you responded triumphantly, sitting back in your seat and setting the picture down next to you. Sam chuckled at the two of you before looking at Dean, shifting the mood of the car when he began to speak.

“You know, uh, what you said about mom—you never told me that before.” Dean kept his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s no big deal,” he replied, voice monotone. He looked over at Sam when the younger brother refused to look away and grimaced. “Oh, god, we’re not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?” Sam smiled but shook his head, finally turning away from Dean. The two of them remained silent, though, and you decided to break the tension.

“Aw, look at college boy, all in touch with his feelings,” you teased, reaching forward to push on Sam’s shoulder. “You’re turning it into a real chick-flick in here.” You sat back and smiled when your brothers started laughing; your job was done.

~ ~ ~ ~

It had taken a little over half an hour to find the location from Lucas’s drawing, but your assertion had been correct and the three of you had found the white church and, subsequently, the yellow house with relative ease. You had opted to stay in the car this time, letting Sam and Dean go investigate this part of the puzzle. You didn’t have a good feeling about what they were going to find, and after your encounter with Bill, you thought it best to stay back, lest you start getting emotional. Sam and Dean were back in the car within twenty minutes and as always, were quick to fill you in on their discoveries.

“Okay, this little boy, Peter Sweeney, vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow,” you summarized, looking between the two of them.

“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean nodded, eyes on the road in front of him as he drove down the street, on his way back to the Carlton house.

“And Bill—the people he loves—they’re all getting punished,” Sam continued.

“So what if Bill did something to Peter?” Dean asked, connecting the dots in front of you.

“What if Bill killed him?” Sam specified.

“Peter’s spirit would be furious,” you said. “It’d want revenge. I mean, it’s possible.”

You were back at Bill’s house minutes later. The three of you got out and looked to the dock, only to find it empty.

“Mr. Carlton!” Sam called, looking around. Dean looked back to the water and spotted Bill in the boat, going out into the water.

“Hey, check it out,” he said, getting you and Sam to follow his gaze. The three of you ran down the beach and onto the dock, calling after Bill.

“Turn the boat around! Come back here!” you yelled, your brothers calling out similarly. Bill only looked back at you before turning his head and speeding up. Seconds later the boat shot out of the water, flying back towards the dock. You jumped back at the sudden explosion of water. The boat landed upside down on top of Bill and, almost instantly, both disappeared under the water.

~ ~ ~ ~

SPN rewrite taglist: @mrsfortune1306 @marvelous-glims @headsup-i-am-very-bad-at-writing

forever taglist: @griff1ndor @gothsatanicrapunzel @choosemyname @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @not-astounding @vicmc624 @idksupernatural

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lifeisbooksandcats · 4 years ago

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Just lil autistic things from when I was a child.

As an autistic adult (29 years old) (not professionally diagnosed, but something I’ve thought about myself for the past 12 years and just recently something I’ve spent far too much of my free time researching and I honestly do think that I am), I look back at my childhood with the thought of “WHY didn’t ANY adult in my life see any of this as ‘not normal’ and try to HELP me??”

- I was very advanced in some areas, mostly reading and writing; I was reading independently by the age of about 2 and a half/3. From the time I started kindergarten, I was always reading “far above grade level”. The first Harry Potter book came out when I was in second grade and I was just one of 3 kids between the two second grade classes at my school who had a high enough reading level for that to be independent reading. For writing, I have always always always, my entire life, been able to express my thoughts better on paper than verbally. I’ve always enjoyed writing. I would write essays upon essays about things I liked for no other reason than I just wanted to. Being alone with a book or something to write with was my happy place.

- My first real total and complete meltdown (that I can remember at least) (which my mom says was the start of my ‘very real anxiety problem’ (which she apparently noticed but literally never did anything to help me??? But that’s for another post another time.)) was when I was about 5(ish). We lived with my grandparents at the time, and my grandparents and I went to Florida to visit my aunt and uncle. My sister and mom stayed home. While we were gone, there was a fire that destroyed my grandparents’ house. My mom and sister and our dogs got out, but our cats died in the fire. So we get home from vacation, our house is gone, our cats are gone, we have to stay with a neighbor (who smoked and her house always smelled like cigarettes and I just remember the smell making me so sick to my stomach constantly) while the house is being fixed/rebuilt, our dogs are boarded at the vets office because we can’t have them in the neighbor’s apartment...we left for vacation and everything was normal, we get back and EVERYTHING is different, so obviously I’m already on edge.. we went to go visit our dogs and take them on a walk, and I kept turning around to make sure our car was still there..we went around a corner, so the next time I turned around I couldn’t see our car anymore and I had a full on MELTDOWN. I threw myself to the ground, I cried hysterically, and my family just chuckled and said I was dramatic and overreacting and the car was just around the corner. Did I overreact? I mean absolutely. Looking back, I can see how my reaction to not being able to see the car anymore was...a lot. Given the exact same circumstances, would a neurotypical child have reacted the exact same way? I don’t know. I don’t think so.

- I HATED the feel of paper. Oh my god I hated it. Even now as an adult, if I’ve had an incredibly long day or if I’m tired, I still sometimes can’t bring myself to touch it. I used to wear long sleeves constantly (or keep a sweatshirt nearby if I had short sleeves on) so I could pull my sleeves over my hand when I had to write so I wouldn’t feel the paper. I don’t know how to explain it, but the feel of paper would make my skin crawl. Even the tiniest bit of my skin touching it would send a chill down my back and I felt like I could “hear” the way it felt and the “sound” hurt my ears. In high school, I HATED going to history or science class not because I didn’t like the subject (I didn’t enjoy history, but I loved my science classes), but because the thought of having to touch the pages in the textbook made me nauseous.

- While *most* of the time I could handle listening to the car radio, there were times especially if I had had a long day, or was stressed or overwhelmed that I literally could NOT listen to the radio because I didn’t know what order the songs were going to play in. We spent a lot of time in the car listening to the same 3 cassette tapes again and again. I had a blue SanDisk MP3 player that idk if it was defective or what, but the songs ALWAYS played in the same order. If you hit shuffle, the first song to play would be a random one, but it would always play the same song after that one. I found comfort in knowing if X is playing, I know Y is next and Z is after that.

- My sister and I shared a bedroom (we had bunk beds) and she had a fan the clipped onto the rungs of the ladder of the bunk bed and the sound of the fan...the vibration of it against the wooden ladder... it HURT my ears. There would be nights I would cry and cry because I couldn’t sleep because my ears were hurting so bad because of the fan. Any time I would turn it off, my mom would get so mad at me. I remember her telling me “your sister needs the fan in order to sleep!” I would respond that I couldn’t sleep because of the sound, and she would tell me to grow up and get over it because I was the older one. And my sister would snore just a little bit, not super loudly, but loud enough that it distracted me from falling asleep. I would be so tired and frustrated, all I wanted was for her to “stop breathing so loudly”..

- I was annoying/bossy about playing games. I needed to know the rules and needed everyone to follow the rules. And if someone broke the rules, I remember sternly telling my friends “that’s NOT how you play”, if they broke the rules again, I didn’t want to play that game with them anymore. Way too often, I would tell my friends they were playing wrong. Even games we would make up, I had to know the rules and everyone HAD TO play CORRECTLY.

- I’ve always kept some sort of music player with me at basically all times - from a cassette player, to a CD player, to an MP3 player, to an iPod, to an iPod video, to my phone... and when the world was too loud (ESPECIALLY on the school bus or in the cafeteria) I could just put headphones in and listen to music and escape from the world being too much.

- My parents got my ears pierced when I was a baby; even as a toddler I remember HATING them being pierced. I hated the way they felt, I hated how they felt too tight on my ears, I hated the weight of them, even just little studs, I could FEEL them, I was constantly aware of them and I didn’t like it.. and I couldn’t take them out. I remember being told “but you’re a GIRL and the earrings are PRETTY!” I remember the relief I felt when I learned that if you played a sport at school you weren’t allowed to have earrings in. I remember signing up for soccer in third grade JUST BECAUSE I would get to take my earrings out, and just the joy/relief I felt not having to wear them. And I haven’t worn them again since third grade.

- I used to organize my and my sister’s CDs and cassettes obsessively. Alphabetical order by artist or band name, and in order by the year they came out. At least once a week I would have to check to make sure everything was still in order. I did the same with my books on my bookshelf. They had to be organized. And they had to be organized CORRECTLY.

- I HATED the feeling of my toes touching each other. Oh my god I hated it so much. Any time I had shoes on, I HAD TO wear toe socks so they wouldn’t be directly touching. It made me feel physically ill, anxious, uncomfortable. I cannot even put into words how much I absolutely hate hate HATED the feeling of my toes touching each other. Which I know is the weirdest thing to have that kind of a reaction to, but..possibly a sign that something was up in my lil childhood neurodivergent af brain.

#me #personal #actually autistic #I’m SURE there are more things #but these are what I could remember today #I may come back to this and add more things as I think about them or remember them #our systems are still down at work so I’ve just spent all morning writing this

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years ago

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survey by n0b0dysp3rf3ct

—:: Who ::—

… was the last person you saw face to face?

My mom.

… was the last person you texted or messaged online? My aunt.

… was the last person who asked you for a favour? My mom earlier.

… was the last person you lent something to? I don’t recall.

… was the last person who told you a secret/confided in you? Probably my aunt.

… is the tallest person you know? My brother.

… the shortest person you know? Me, ha.

… your oldest (in years) friend? I don’t have any friends.

… is the oldest (in length of time) friend? --

… is your youngest friend? --

… is your newest friend? --

… is your closest relative? My mom and brother.

… was your favourite teacher? My 4th, who also ended up being my 8th, grade teacher.

… was your least favourite teacher? These two math professors I had at community college. They were really rude.

… did you spend the most time with when growing up? My parents, cousins, and grandparents.

… knows you the best? My mom. And ya’ll, ha.

… always beats you in games or sports? I don’t do a lot of competitive stuff, but let’s be real everyone would probably beat me cause I suck at everything.

… who is the most creative of the people you know? I have a few artistic and creative family members. I sadly did not get the gene.

… is the funniest person you know? My brother.

… is the most organised that you know? One of my aunts.

… that you know has travelled the most? My paternal grandparents and one of my uncles.

… has always been there for you? My family, especially my mom.

… has given you the most personal gift? What’s a personal gift, exactly?

… has an annoying laugh? *shrug*

… never forgets a birthday? I think I’m pretty good about that.

… do you live with? My parents, brother, and doggo.

…,do you have the most in common with? My mom and brother.

…is the sportiest person you know? My dad.

…was your last missed call? A spam call.

…did you last open your door for? Delivery person.

… has your heart? Me.

…do you share a special song with? No one.

…do you miss right now? I’ll always miss my loved ones who have passed away.

…last made you angry? Not sure about a who, but situations and circumstances lately have.

…did you last buy a gift for? My dad for Father’s Day.

…did you celebrate your last birthday with? My parents and brother.

…have you gone to a concert with? A former friend.

…can make you laugh? My family.

…has taught you how to do something? Teachers.

…has lost something of yours? Hmm.

…has broke your heart? A couple of people.

…has stood you up? Joseph.

:: What ::

...I

s your favourite colour?

...Pastels, rose gold, sea foam green, coral, yellow.

...Can you do that most your friends can’t? ---

...Is your birthday? July 28th, mark your calendars.

...Colour eyes do you have? Brown.

...Form of transport do you take to work/school? I don’t work/done with school.

...Music do you like to listen to in the car? My parents and brother each play their Spotify playlists in their cars, so I hear whoever’s playlist of the car I’m in.

...Languages can you speak? I’m only fluent in English, but I know a little Spanish. ...Was the last thing you drank? Water.

...Was the last thing you ate? 4 over-easy eggs, loaded hash browns (shredded cheese, country gravy, and onions), and toast with strawberry jam from Denny’s.

...Time did you wake up this morning? Around 8.

...Colour are your bedroom walls? White.

...Drink do you usually order when eating out? Coffee.

..Food can you cook well? Just ramen.

...Animals have you had for a pet? Doggos, fish, and a couple of hamsters.

...Are your initials? ---

...Kind of activities do you like to do on the weekends? I don’t do anything different.

...Movie do you know line by line? There’s a few.

...Band(s) have you seen in concert? I’ve seen several.

...Do you buy/get to treat yourself? Depends what I want.

...Colours your phone cover? It’s a clear one.

...Part of the world would you love to visit? I’d love to be able to travel all over.

...Subject were you good at in school? English.

...Careers do your parents have? My mom works at Walgreens and my dad works at a car repair shop.

...Brand of clothing do you buy most often? Most of my clothes are from Boxlunch, Hot Topic, and Kohl’s.

...Chocolate bar is your favourite? White chocolate.

...TV show have you watched every series of? There’s a ton.

...Radio station do you listen to the most? I haven’t listened to the radio for like 4-5 years now.

...Podcasts are you subscribed to? None.

...Is your favourite dessert? Milkshakes, ice cream, brownies, cheesecake, cookies, cupcakes, donuts, muffins.

...Can’t you do that most around you seem to? >> Function. <<<

...Are 5 qualities you value in a friend? Someone I can confide in, someone that’s easy to be around, good listener, loyal, understanding.

...Are 5 qualities you value in a partner? Patient, understanding, caring, good sense of humor, loyal.

...Size pizza do you usually order? It depends. If my family and I are all getting pizza, we usually get 2 mediums ad one of those are the toppings of my choosing and they’ll have some of that as well as the pizza of their choosing (I’m the picky one that’s why we get two, ha). If I’m just getting pizza then I’ll get a personal.

...Cuisine do you like to order or cook? I love Italian, Mexican, and Chinese food. I’m not a cook except for ramen.

...Colour(s) dominate your wardrobe? Black.

...Toothpaste brand do you use? Sensodyne.

...Sounds can you hear right now? ASMR video, my fans, and the TV.

...Is the weather like today? It’s currently 90F.

...Are your plans for tomorrow? Just another day.

:: Where ::

...

Do you keep your phone when not using it?

It’s usually always near me somewhere.

...Were you born? California.

...Do you go to unwind? My bed. And the beach when I’m able, which isn’t often. :( I wish I lived near one cause I’d be there a lot.

...Is your best friend right now? Work.

...Can you go nearby to have a good time? My city is lame.

...Is the nearest restaurant? Not even a 5 minute drive from my house.

...Is the nearest beach? About 2 1/2 hours away.

...Did you meet your closest friend? --

...Did you go for your last vacation? I went to Disneyland last year and it ended up being right before the pandemic and lockdown stuff happened. Like literally two weeks before.

...Is the nearest mall or superstore? About a 10 minute drive.

...Did you last get an injury? I don’t remember.

...Is the most extravagant place you’ve stayed at? I’ve stayed at nice hotels.

...Do most the local kids play? *shrug*

...Have you been with your family? Uhh, lots of places?

...Did you spend Christmas last year? At home.

...Did your parents grow up? My mom has lived here all her life and my dad moved around a bit coast to coast.

...Did you buy the shoes you’re wearing? I'm not wearing shoes, but no I didn’t buy the pair I last wore.

...Would you like to go right now if you could? Somewhere with cool weather and a beach.

...Do you miss the most from your childhood? Being a kid.

...Is the best restaurant you know? Wingstop.

...Will you never go again as it was so bad? I haven’t had that bad of a restaurant experience.

:: When ::

was your last vacation? ...February of last year.

…did you graduate? I graduated UC in 2015.

…did you decide what career you wanted? My freshman year of high school.

…did you have your first kiss? I was 16.

…did you learn how to swim? I haven’t.

…did you have your first relationship? 2005.

…did you meet your best friend? She’s my mo.

…do you feel the most at peace? At the beach is the closest I get to that.

…do you usually fall asleep? When the sun is almost rising or already has.

…do you usually wake up? Between like 9 and 12.

…did you last watch a movie? I saw A Quiet Place 2 a few weeks ago.

…did you last go to a party? A few weekends ago to my bro’s grad party.

…did you last cry? Yesterday. It’s a daily thing nowadays, at least once. Usually more.

…did you laugh really hard? I don’t remember.

…did you buy something pricey last? For Mother’s Day.

…did you have an argument last? Recently.

…did you last have a sick day? All the time?

…did you last recieve a hug? The other day.

…when is your best friend’s birthday? September.

…did you learn how to drive? I haven’t.

…did you last receive a surprise? I received a bad, unexpected one recently.

:: How ::

Many pets do you have?

One.

Many houses have you lived in? A few.

Often do you shower? About every 2-3 days.

Well can you cook? I only cook ramen.

Many close friends do you have? None.

Many Brothers or sisters do you have? I have two brothers.

Often do you go swimming? I don't.

Many times have you texted today? Zero.

Do you like your toast (colour, topping)? A light brown with butter or jelly.

Do you like your tea and/or coffee? I like a packet or two of sweetener with my tea and flavored cream or cream and sugar with my coffee.

Do you like to celebrate your birthdays? Just chill and lowkey.

Are you feeling today? Hot and tired and meh.

Serious are you about your career goals? I’m not even doing anything in regards to that as of now. I have no idea what I want to do and I can’t put the time, energy, focus, or effort to figure it out at this time. I’m dealing with and focusing on my health and can’t work right now anyway.

Many bedrooms in your house? 2 bedrooms.

Did you do in your school exams? I did well.

Close do you live to your parents? I live with my parents.

Close do you live to your siblings? I live with my younger brother and my older brother doesn’t live far away.

Sensitive to criticism are you? I’m sensitive, but it’s definitely gotten worse in recent years.

Motivated to make changes are you? That’s something I’ve been struggling with and it’s certainly doing me no favors. :/

Creative are you (1-10): I missed the creative gene.

Hard working are you (1-10): Not very much at all anymore. :/

Sporty are you (1-10): Not at all.

Musical are you (1-10): I don’t play any instruments. Do you prefer your eggs? Over-easy, scrambled, deviled, hard boiled.

Often do you go out to eat? I get takeout a lot. I just started going out to eat again recently, having been to Denny’s twice now in the past week. It’s a new tradition my mom and I are starting couple or so times a week when we go for a morning walk.

Would your best friend describe you? Meh.

Can someone cheer you up if you’re sad? It’s honestly better to just leave me alone.

Often do you meet up with your friends? ---

Important is religion to you? My faith is very important to me.

Old were you when you first stayed overnight from home? *shrug* I was a kid.

Old were you when you got your first pet? Like 3.

Tech savvy are you? Eh, I know some stuff.

Often do you cut your hair? It’s been over a year since the last time.

Often do you paint your nails? It’s been a few years since the last time.

Many countries have you visited? Just one apart from my own.

Boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? Two.

:: Why ::

… did you choose your username?

Cause I love me some surveys. ‘Nuff said.

… did you take this survey? I wanted to.

… did you choose the career you did? I don’t have one.

…did you last leave the house? My mom and I took our walk this morning and stopped to have breakfast along the way.

…did you last give up on something? I gave up on myself in a lot of ways the past few years and I’ve paying for it.

…did you search the last thing you searched? I was looking up how many miles away something was for one of the questions.

…would you give up on someone completely? I did that easily with myself, but it would take a lot to do that with someone else.

:: If…::

You could live in any country which would you choose?

I’ll just stay here.

You could choose any animal as a pet which one? I like having doggos.

You could be famous for something what would you like? >> I don't want to be famous. <<<

You are sad, how do you combat it? >> I am sad almost all the time lately, and there's nothing I can do about it. It's not something to "combat", I'm not trying to be in a fucking battle with myself and I'm tired of that rhetoric. I just wish I was less sad. I can't be less sad. But I wish I could. <<<

You can drive when did you learn? --

You could have any job what would it be? I don’t knowwww.

You could go anywhere for a vacation where would you go? Somewhere far away with a nice beach.

You could eat anything right now what would it be? I just put in my Doordash order for Wingstop.

You wrote a book what genre/topic would it be? Murder mystery/psychological thriller.

You had a theme song what would it be? *shrug*

You could meet any band/singer in person which one? Hmm.

You could act in any movie which would it be? No thanks.

You get married what venue would you like? I don’t want to get married.

If you have kids do you have names picked out? I don’t want kids.

Could describe your dream home what would it be like? Spacious enough for 4 adults and a doggo, near a beach, hardwood floor, big backyard with patio deck, pizza oven, grill, deck, nice sitting and eating area, pool, and a balcony.

You could go back in time what would you change? I’d take better care of myself.

Could use 3 words to describe your childhood which ones? Good, fun, memorable.

Could get the answer to any question which question would you choose? I don’t know cause if it’s bad I don’t wanna know.

You could have an endless supply of something what would it be? Money.

Meet anyone who no longer lives who’d you choose? Chester Bennington.

:: Can ::

… you ride a bike?

No.

… you ski? No.

… you bake a cake? >> I'm sure I could wing a box cake. <<< Yeah, that’s all I do. I’m not in there whipping stuff up from scratch.

… you sing well? Nope.

… you do your own taxes? >> I don't do taxes, I don't earn a taxable income. <<<

… you remain calm in a crisis? I tend to freak out.

… you do first aid? No.

… remember your best friend’s family members’ names? They’re my family, too.

… you fire a gun? I’ve only done it once when I went to a shooting range with some friends a few years ago. I didn’t want to do more than that.

… your parents drive? Yes.

…your best friend dance well? She doesn’t like to dance.

…you make people laugh easily? I don’t think I’m funny. I’ll have my moments now and then and I own that shit when it happens haha but it’s at random.

…stand up for yourself? I’m not great a that. I’m too shy, too awkward, suck at expressing myself, and don’t like confrontation.

…you do a martial art? No.

:: Would ::

You like to learn a new language?

I’d like to be fluent in Spanish. I only know some.

Save the life of a stray animal? If I could help in some way.

Know what to do if there was a hurricane? >> Not entirely, because I've never lived in a hurricane-prone area. <<< Me either, thankfully.

Try a new cuisine? If it sounded good to me. I’m very picky and particular with food.

Risk your life for anyone? My loved ones.

You like to get back in touch with someone? Ideally, but it’s not ideal right now.

You drive in the middle of the night to get a stuck friend? I don’t drive so I wouldn’t be any help. I could call them an Uber, though.

You Know how to perform CPR? No.

You likely win in a game of chess? Nope, I don’t even know how to play.

You stop talking for a day for $100? Yeah.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #categories #long survey

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highkey-lowkey-as-hell · 4 years ago

Note

if you want to write it, a meet the parents fic but it’s kateva and angst to hurt comfort because i like my heart broken -cotmlc

THANK YOU, CO-PRESIDENT, FOR RELIEVING MY HORRIBLE, TERRIBLE, SOUL-CRUSHING BOREDOM

Also, seeing as this is angst, I’m switching the prompt up just a little. My headcanon is that Eva’s mom is the Best Mom and Kate’s parents are Trying (And Failing A Little But Overall Doing Their Best), so we’re getting Kate’s more-homophobic-grandparents instead for the Angst Factor.

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

Okay, yes, Kate was nervous.

Like, super nervous.

Eva had sworn up and down that she loved Kate no matter what, and while that did help her fear of losing her, she was still scared this afternoon was going to make Eva run away. Even if she didn’t, though, Kate was still expecting hell.

Her maternal grandparents were thoroughly convinced that Kate’s sarcastic, cynical, girls-and-flannel-loving personality was Just A Phase and she’d grow out of it and start wearing pink and giggling and liking guys any moment now. Obviously, that wasn’t happening. When she’d joined the cheer squad, they’d been so excited, Kate almost felt bad about disappointing them.

Almost. She didn’t actually feel bad about it.

Actually, her grandparents were one of the only things that told Kate her mom really and truly supported her sexuality. Sure, she was insecure about it, and had once asked her if she thought it was “just a phase,” but she always defended Kate whenever her grandparents asked if she was interested in anyone and she answered with “Bridget” or “Emily” or “Jennifer.”

Her mom’s mediocre support aside, Kate had been postponing this meeting for as long as she could. She and Eva had officially been together since February, and now it was July. She’d met Eva’s mother, uncle, and siblings, and Eva had met her parents and brothers. She knew for a fact that Eva had Chess’s letter tucked safely in a dresser drawer and that she reread it often. They even regularly said “I love you” now. And yet, her grandparents had only recently even learned Eva existed.

Just like always, Kate and her parents were hosting the Dalton family’s annual 4th of July party. Typically, Kate would be forced to greet everyone and then would run up to her room to read or play on her phone, or - before Derrick and Jack had left for college and gotten so distant - she and her brothers would be in the basement, playing video games Kate probably shouldn’t have been playing when she was ten. Today, though, was going to be a bit different.

Kate’s grandmother had recently joined Facebook without her knowledge, which proved to be problematic at the end of the year. Kate’s mom had made her usual post, congratulating Derrick on finishing his first year of grad school, Jack on his sophomore year of college, and Kate on her junior year of high school. The picture of Kate she had chosen to post was one Eva had posted to Instagram (and one she’d asked permission to use, which Kate and Eva both appreciated) (the caption was very sweet, irrelevant to this story, and was “GCHS cheer fucking sucks but at least I’ve got you, I love you so much”), which was a photo of the two of them after their last cheer competition. In the photo, Eva had her arm around Kate and was kissing her cheek, and it was very obvious that they were a couple.

Kate’s grandmother saw the photo.

Kate’s first reaction when her mom told her was to freeze and think fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck SHIT fuck fuck fuck - which she thought was a very logical first reaction. Her second reaction was freak the fuck out.

One thing had led to another, and now Eva had been invited to join the Dalton family Independence Day celebrations.

She showed up a little bit before everyone else, just because that’s how Eva was, and Kate dragged her down into the basement so she could rant about how scared she was.

“My cousins are just like Lily and they’ll love you and my aunts and uncles are great and Dad’s parents are pretty cool but Mom’s parents are going to hate you,” she ranted, pacing back and forth while Eva watched from the couch. “This might have been a really bad idea.”

“It’ll be fine, Katie,” Eva tried to sooth. “You’ve literally survived a stab wound, they can’t be much worse.”

“My grandparents meeting my girlfriend? Yeah, I think I’d rather get stabbed again.”

“I think you’re overreacting.”

“You won’t think that when they show up.” Kate stopped pacing and hugged herself, trying to calm her anxiety. “Promise you’ll stay?”

“I promise.” Eva stood up and hugged her, and Kate finally managed to breathe. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Kate wanted Eva to hold her like that for the rest of the day, but the doorbell rang and Jack shouted for them to come upstairs and it was time to face the music.

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

Her paternal grandparents showed up first and, like Kate predicted, immediately adored Eva. They’d asked her at least four dozen questions before Kate’s aunt showed up a few minutes later, and as her relatives trickled in, Kate began to suspect that this was turning into less of a “family Independence Day!” party and more of a “Kate’s actually gay and has a girlfriend now, wow, time to overwhelm her” party. She’d made a deal with Jack and Derrick beforehand, having predicted what would happen, and invoked it now, leaving them to entertain their relatives while Kate pulled Eva into the backyard and onto the porch swing, where it would take several minutes for questions to reach them and they had an excuse to be as close as possible.

Kate was hoping her mom’s parents might not show up when her grandfather appeared in the doorway and her stomach sank into her beat-up shoes. He zeroed in on Kate and Eva right away and walked toward them, taking up way more space than he needed to like always.

“Kate, it’s been a while,” he boomed, and Kate winced.

“Hey, Grandpa,” she said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. “This is Eva.” Eva awkwardly waved, then put her hand down.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, and Kate felt really bad about dragging her into this.

“You must be Kate’s friend,” he nearly yelled (why the fuck did he have to be so loud?) and Kate nearly straight-up attacked him.

I’m basically in her lap right now! What the fuck do you mean, my “friend”?

Jack caught her eye from across the porch and gave her a sympathetic look before looking back at their elderly great-grandmother.

“Girlfriend, actually,” Kate corrected. “We’re dating. We’re a couple. Definitely not friends.”

“Right, of course.” Her grandfather winked at her, and she nearly screamed.

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

The day did not get much better.

When her grandmother came out, she was about as subtle as her husband had been about how she didn’t actually believe Kate and Eva were in love (maybe? In love felt a little bit strong, but it also seemed to be the best term for it and Kate didn’t have time to think of a better way to put it) and thought they were just good friends. Then, when she stood up to go and get her phone so she could show her aunt a picture of their cheer squad and Eva’s hand wasn’t covering her scar anymore, her aunt screamed and brought three people running, pinning all the attention on Kate in a really bad way.

After a few hours, Kate whispered something in Eva’s ear and stepped away, into the garage, trying to catch her breath and calm down. The door opened, and rather than being Eva or one of her brothers like she’d hoped, she opened her eyes to see her grandmother.

“I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were okay, honey.”

“I’m fine, Grandma. Just needed a moment.” She clenched her teeth and prayed her grandmother would leave. She didn’t.

“Eva seems nice,” she continued.

“She is.” Kate almost started to hope that maybe, maybe, her grandmother would start to take her relationship seriously. “I’m lucky to have her.”

“You seem like really good friends.” Fuck, there it was.

“Okay, you know what? Knock it off!” Kate didn’t mean to blow up, but she couldn’t help it now. “It doesn’t matter how much you deny it, it’s not going to change the fact that I’m not the granddaughter you have in your head! I love Eva, okay? I love someone who’s name is Eva and not Evan. I love her and I’m a lesbian and I’m so tired of you not taking me and my relationships seriously like you do Jack and Derrick!” Then she stormed past her and up to her room, her eyes stinging with tears.

After about twenty minutes, there was a gentle knock on the door.

“Go away,” she mumbled.

“Katie?”

“Oh. You can come in.”

Eva opened the door and then closed it behind herself. “Are you okay? Your grandmother says you totally lost your shit at her.”

“I kinda did.”

“I’m not surprised.” Eva sat next to her, and Kate sat up and crawled into her arms. “They’ve been assholes to us all day.”

“I just really love you, Eva, and I want them to understand that.” Kate’s voice was muffled by Eva’s shirt. “I want them to take you seriously as my girlfriend and stop trying to deny it. I-I want them to accept that I’m not the perfect granddaughter they wanted. I’m not perfect.”

“And thank God. If you were perfect, how would I make fun of you for how atrocious you are at skateboarding? How would I keep you from fighting some people and watch you fight others?” Eva pulled her a little bit tighter and laid down, Kate still curled up in her arms. “I hate your grandparents, but I love you more.”

“Promise you’ll stay?”

“Promise.”

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

Everyone has that one relative who denies your sexuality, right? I’m not out to my family as lesbian, just as ace, and I still think they don’t quite get it. But hey, everyone’s got someone who has their back, right? I hope this was angsty enough!!!!!!

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 5 years ago

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Not Alone - Gerard Way x Reader

Request: Hello! I was wondering if you could do a Gerard x fem!Reader where she was bullied in the past and years later she encounters with the bullies and they start bothering her again and Gerard saves her? Tysm💜 Warnings: bullying, violence (shoving) Word count: 1 746

If you were being honest, being back in your hometown was not nearly as traumatizing as you had assumed it would be. Christmas had pulled you back into this tiny town in which your family still lived. For years you had managed to avoid it, always finding an excuse for your parents to come visit you instead, but this year you had finally decided to face the demons of your past.

The resentment about your hometown was not, as for many other people, grounded in a bad relationship with your family, but rather the unpleasant time of high school. Everyone, literally everyone in the whole town, had always known that you were the involuntary social outcast, the favourite victim of the bullies at school, and too weak (you preferred the word gentle) to save yourself. Even though everyone had known, nobody had ever made a move to help you, and your parents had been shut down by the school’s director, saying you had no prove for what you claimed the other students to have done. And since there was no other school in town and your parents could not afford to home school you, you somehow had learned to survive.

So there was a very good reason indeed why you had never been keen on returning here. As mentioned, the town was small, and chances were that you would stumble into some of your former bullies, or at least a cheering bystander as soon as you left the house. But when you had come home for Christmas, you had not come alone.

During your time away, you had started working for the cartoon network in New York, where you had gotten to know your adorable co-worker Gerard, who you now dated. That he wanted to stay in the relationship, even after he and the band, which he had founded a couple of years back, had made it big, was still a miracle to you, but you definitely did not complain; you loved him.

Now, against all better judgement, you had agreed to do the grocery shopping for your mother. She was already busy decorating, and sending out last minute cards, while simultaneously stressing out over getting the house clean before your grandparents arrived tomorrow morning. So you had figured taking that burden off her shoulders would be the least you could do, especially since the main Christmas grocery shopping was already done, and you only needed to get food for the following days, making sure you would not have to bother with going to the supermarket while you would rather have a peaceful time together.

Of course you had immediately told Gerard he would have to accompany you, which he enthusiastically did. Right now he had disappeared to the section of cereal, eager to choose something for your whole family, while you had continued to the snacks.

Slowly walking along the shelves, you once again wondered why one company produced three different kinds of crisps all with the same flavour. Rummaging through your memories you tried to recall the brand name your brother had mentioned as his favourite yesterday evening, when suddenly you heard someone walk up to you. Assuming it was just a person looking for a specific kind of food, like people do in supermarkets, you took a small step to the side to let them pass, but did not look up.

From the corner of your eye you saw the person had stopped right next to you, leaving not even a dozen inches between you. Normally you would have felt a little uncomfortable due to a lack of personal space, and continued your day, but now the person did not turn to the shelf, the tips of their shoes pointing straight at you. And these were not Gerard’s shoes.

A feeling, which you had not felt in years, overcame you, your instincts telling you to run as fast as possible, but instead you slowly looked up.

“That’s not the way to greet your old friends, (y/n).”

The voice had gotten deeper, but the snarling and dripping venom were the same as back in school. Looking up completely, you found a group of four men blocking the aisle. Their faces looked older, more grown up, more dangerous than what they had looked a couple of years back when you had last seen them. But there was no doubt; these were the same people who had made your life hell.

“You just left without saying goodbye,” said the one standing directly behind Hunter, who was their leader.

“We thought we could give you a proper send off on prom night, but you never showed up,” Hunter added, making the men behind him laugh.

Truth be told, you did not want to know what they had had in mind for you back then.

“But there’s plenty of time for that now, right?”

As if they were remote controlled, they all took a step towards you at the same time, but you did not step back. Never mind Hunter was almost standing chest to chest with you now, you were sick of their stupid games, terribly scared too, but most of all pissed off.

“Leave me alone,” you hissed at them, surprised by how confident you sounded.

“Oh, what’s this, little (y/n) got feisty while away,” Rick, who stood further in the back, laughed, “you should learn to shut your mouth.”

“Fuck off,” you just mumbled, and turned your back to them, trying to walk away from them.

But of course that did not work. It might have worked with normal people, but not with guys as fucked up as these four.

You had not even taken three steps, when a hand landed on your shoulder, and pulled you pack, forcefully slamming you into the packed shelf, causing several bags of snacks to tumble to the floor. Instinctively you curled into a small ball, immediately protecting face and stomach, as years of their torment had taught you; but before the first painful kick, which you expected to hit, found you, a voice sounded through the aisle, and your heart immediately jumped to your throat.

“Touch them, and you’ll regret it.”

Gerard’s voice usually was not very impressive, but years of screaming around on stage had given him the skill to sound dangerous, and luckily only you and him knew that he was bluffing.

On the one hand you were incredibly happy that he was there, by your side to help and protect you, but on the other hand you were scared what these men would do to him. He was great with words and all, but if he would have to defend himself he would probably be even worse off than you; he was just a gigantic teddy bear, and today he even almost looked like one, wearing the hand knitted sweater his grandma had made for him.

“What d’you want?”

“I want you to fuck off, unless you want the police to pick you up here. They’re on their way.”

Gerard sounded calm, as his steps approached you, making your bullies move away from you simultaneously.

“Seriously dude?”

“You heard me, they’re on their way.”

Calmly he knelt down next to you, carefully placing his hand on your back, and only then you felt that he was shaking.

“Why’d you call them, what’d you tell them?”

Hunter was almost shouting, not out of anger, but out of what sounded like fear, and made you even take a careful glance at them.

“That my partner is being violently attacked by four men in the supermarket…”

The only sounds that followed Gerard’s pretty relaxed statement were those of shoes rapidly clacking against the tiles of the floor as the men ran away.

“Did you really call the police,” you wondered, slowly allowing yourself to relax.

“I tried, but the line is occupied,” Gerard admitted, grinning gently at you. “Did they hurt you?”

Helping you up, he worriedly glanced up, and down your body.

“I’m fine I think,” you answered. Your back hurt a little from where you had been slammed into the shelf, but your thick winter jacket had blocked the worst. “They gave me a good scare though.”

“Me too,” Gerard agreed, “I always thought you were being a bit overdramatic with all the bullying, you know, distorted perception due to trauma or something, but hell, this is worse than what you ever told me!”

“Everything alright lovelies?”

An elderly lady, dressed in the uniform of the supermarket, peeked around the corner into the aisle.

“Yeah, we just-“

“Oh, don’t think I don’t know. These boys have been terrorizing the town for years.” Quickly she hurried over, and Gerard and you helped her collect the bags with crisps, which had fallen out of the shelf, off the floor. “They are well known to the sheriff, and that Hunter is on probation, so if he gets into trouble again, he’s going to jail for a while.”

Gerard and you exchanged glances, obvious that neither of you minded if Hunter would be locked away.

After the lady had helped you find the brand of snacks your brother liked so much, and had recommended some of her favourite post-Christmas crisps, you headed back to your shopping cart, and soon made your way over to the register, where the lady, who had introduced herself as Maggie, helped you check out.

“Here, for you,” you handed her a five dollar bill after you had paid, “Merry Christmas.”

Not waiting for her to break in a huge smile you turned, and started walking away, only seeing Gerard smile widely, and wave good bye at the lady.

“She sometimes gave us lollies for free,” you explained, once you had walked up to your car, “I don’t think she remembers me, but I sure remember her. Also five dollars probably won’t make up for all the lollies she gave me.”

Gerard chuckled, and helped you load the groceries into the car.

“People like that are the backbone of our nation,” he agreed, and both of you laughed.

After everything was stored away, you got into the car, and turned on radio and heating. Slowly you drove off the parking lot, careful not to slip in the snow that had started falling. Maybe the incident in the store had not been necessary, but at least you were not afraid of coming back home now, knowing that Gerard would always be by your side to help you.

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):

General: @robinruns @justawriterinprogress @lookalivefrosty @jayloverthe3rd @butterfly-writes @angelevansfalls @rene-royale @500240

MCR: @deadlovers

#gerard way x reader #gerard way x reader fluff #gerard way imagine #gerard way fluff #gerard way fanfiction #my chemical romance #my chemical romance imagines #my chemical romance imagine #my chemical romance fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #bullies #tw: bullying

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mackenzieparker · 4 years ago

Text

ok lets do this one more time, yeah? for real this time. this is it. my name is nika (she/hers, est). i like to write and hang out cool communities like this and for the last first time, i have brought a brand new muse to y’all. below you’ll find all the details on a ms. mackenzie “mack” rae parker, plucky country gal and badass babe. please love me and her and smash that like button or send me a dm (discord ichoosenikachu#4859 ) to plot.

( tw: drunk driver, death, sexism )

B A C K S T O R Y →

meet mackenzie rae parker, born august 17, 1989 in grove, oklahoma. mack (as she’s gone by since she was a kid and it won’t be changing anytime soon) was born to two loving parents Steven and Margaret Parker, the youngest daughter of three boys: morgan, matthew, and merritt. yes, her parents did have a thing for m names--and no, it didn’t help her momma remember her name any better, like they told their kids growing up.

Maggie and Steve loved their daughter--their whole family, really--to bits and pieces. It had been Maggie’s dream to have a little girl when the couple first got together and when they had first received the ultrasound, well, they were overjoyed. When Mackenzie came into the world, there was cause for joyous celebration and laughter. Everyone was happy the Parker’s finally had a little pink bundle of joy.

Little Mackenzie’s personality was--well, let’s just say she had never been one to shy away from an exciting situation. Her brothers’ had taught her early on that life wouldn’t always be easy so she had to be tough enough to take it head on. In fact, they made it a point to remind her whenever they had a chance. Buts she was also their little sister, and fiercely protective of her. And while it annoyed Mack to no end, she adored her brothers endlessly.

Mack may not have been the strongest Parker in the household, but next to her Momma she was the wittiest. Her comebacks were always sharp and as she grew up, she honed her sarcastic, dry wit in addition to her own athletic talent.

Mack loved her Momma. In fact, if she had to pick favorites her Momma would have won every time. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her father. Her father was a good man--he was a local mechanic at Grove Automotive, always greeted everyone with a smile and cared deeply for his family. But Mack and him were never as close as she was with her momma. Maggie understood her daughter’s firey nature but compassionate heart and saw the way it warred within her--especially after she’d gotten into a fight with one of her brothers.

( tw: drunk driving & death ) When Mack was twelve, though--tragedy struck. Maggie was on her back from work after parent teacher conferences; she was the local kindergarten teacher at Grove Elementary, when a drunk drive t-boned her car and Maggie was killed on impact. thankfully (if one can say that in this situation) no one else was in the car. but suddenly the Parker family had lost its matriarch and Mack, the one person who might have been able to understand her.

She had always grown up as a tomboy--a fact that even her momma, a woman who had been raised in South Carolina to rather traditional parents couldn’t stamp out of her. But even so, after Maggie Parker passed on, Mack became even more of one, almost shunning all that was feminine away from her, as if any reminder of her mother would be the end of her as she knew it. And, for her, it might have been. It was no secret she had been the closest to Maggie--and her death hit her the hardest. Mack got rid of all her dresses, all her skirts, anything that reminded her of her mother--save for the small box of photos and momentos she kept heavily hidden under her bed. On her worst days, she’d pull the box out and talk to the photo of her Momma--it was the only time the blonde ever outwardly expressed emotions, specifically crying.

To distract herself from the grief, Mack threw herself into everything she could in high school--archery, debate, robotics club, anything to keep her mind off of the encroaching cloud that now lived around her heart. It was in Robotics club, though, she learned she had a real knack for using her hands. She had learned early on about cars and the like--her father’s occupation and brothers’ fascination with the thing gave her unparalleled access to a number of cars being torn apart and rebuilt from the ground up. But Mack--Mack was always more excited about what flew above their heads than right next to them. A junior in high school, she had made the choice that she wanted to be an engineer--one who would eventually design an entire new fleet of Boeing Jets for commercial use. She had only ever flown on a jet once--to see her grandparents after her momma’s passing--but it had been the only thing to give her relief from her sadness that day. It’s where her love affair with aviation began.

Mack graduated top of her class (nerd, her brothers would always joke) and soon found herself enrolled in the University of Oklahoma’s prized engineering program (boomer sooner!). Of course, she wanted to stay close to home--one, to keep the costs down but two, leaving her family felt wrong, even six years later. And for the most part, Mack loved it. She got involved in all sorts of things--engineering clubs, intramural sports, and even, yes, a sorority. It went against all the things she hated in relation to femininity, but her mother had spoken so highly of her experiences in the organization, and Mack felt a pull to join her. To her surprise, she didn’t hate it--and it was with those women she really started to learn about feminism.

You see, when Mack would go home, all the women in town would ask her about if she was seeing a boy. Mack had never understood why it mattered so much if she had a boyfriend or not--she was getting her degree in mechanical engineering, wasn’t that a tad bit more impressive than whatever guy she might be seeing? But soon, it occurred to her that the women in town would never understand anything other than her finding her future husband at school. The fact shocked her, considering it had never occurred to her in the slightest that she’d ever go to school to get a husband in the first place. After the shock worn down, it enraged her and made her work harder. Because now, she was getting disparaging comments from the folks back home and the men in her internships and co-ops. Women can’t build things--they’ll break a nail. Why are you in pants? Your legs would look better in a skirt. Mack had never been one to bit her tongue, and on more than one occasion was able to test out what her brothers’ had taught her growing up. No one was going to tell Mack what she could or could not do. And certainly not because of her gender.

Mack eventually graduated college--though deeply in debt thanks to all those added fees for science labs #thanksUofOklahoma--but realized that going back home would never be realistic for her. So, she packed up her truck, Betsy, and headed west. Originally, she had meant to go to Seattle or Portland--that’s where Boeing was, that’s where her dream landed. But something about Charming, CA caught her eye--and she found herself intrigued. Plus, it sure didn’t hurt that no one seemed to care when she applied to work as a mechanic in their autoshop. Now she’s been here about 8 years and she hasn’t grown sick of it yet. She still has dreams of working for Boeing, but as she grows more comfortable in Charming, they seem to be slipping to the wayside.

Mack’s vibe is...well, she’s a loyal friend, a good listener and kind, though not sunshine and rainbows. Growing up without her mom really changed her--she still had a compassionate heart but it’s not as obvious as it once was. She’s still sassy, sarcastic and witty, but she is friendly as well. Smart too--and a bit of a nerd, loves herself some comics and documentaries. all around, she’s genuinely a good egg, just a little...rough around the edges at times.

H E A D C A N O N S →

Mack never, ever goes by Mackenzie. In fact, you’ll never know its her full name unless she drops her ID. The only person you’ll ever hear call her that is her father--or brothers--when something is wrong.

Her favorite food is chicken cordon bleu. She knows it sounds fancy but literally, her favorite is the one where you buy it frozen and pop it in the oven. She is a simple gal, truly.

Her favorite shoes are her various pairs of converse, although for work she can be seen wearing docs so she doesn’t get oil all over her shoes.

Betsy, her truck, is very special to her--she takes extra good care of it. She’s a 1967 Chevy C10 Pickup in a robin’s egg blue color--and her pride and joy.

Even though she loves her truck no matter what, the woman has worked on enough bikes for the various motorcycle clubs around town to know that if she had even gotten enough money--she’d get herself a nice bike. Flying down the road on open asphalt? Doesn’t get better than that.

Mack loves classic rock. Like love loves it--but also the women of the 90′s like Alanis Morisette, Liz Phair, The Cranberries--she loves a good women rock group.

P L O T S →

friends

exes

situationships/flirtationships

fwb

slowburn

coworkers

any connections to the motorcycle gang

literally i suck at listing plots out, just hit me up and i’ll be EXCITED TO PLOT!

#[[intro; mackenzie rae parker]]#please...love us?#shes a good sweet egg i promise #well sweet maybe not

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camillesfm · 4 years ago

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。· . ˙ ⌈ alva bratt + cis female + she / her + the intangible concept ⌋ yo , have you meet that KOOK , camille 'cj' petersen , yet ? — no ? well , to give you a little heads up before you do , they’re a TWENTY year old , PRE-LAW STUDENT , and have been living in coston for TWENTY . since i’ve known them , they’ve reminded me of PALE PINK POINTE SHOES , CHAINS MADE OF WHITE CLOVERS , A PURPLE SKY JUST BEFORE SUNRISE , STEADY WAVES CRASHING AT LOW TIDE , AND SHATTERED & SCATTERED GLASS . usually they’re quite LEVELHEADED & THOUGHTFUL but just make sure you keep an eye out for them around town because i heard can be quite RETICENT & ALOOF as well so here’s hoping they aren’t the ones to undo this whole peace pact they have going on this summer . but just between you & me , i kinda hope it all falls apart . the rivalry keeps this whole boring town interesting . –– this is cj . . . let’s just . . . dive into this mess !

𝐁 𝐀 𝐂 𝐊 𝐆 𝐑 𝐎 𝐔 𝐍 𝐃 .

scarlett petersen is a name known statewide, as she’s the best corporate lawyer on the east coast, clever as the devil and twice as pretty with long blonde hair often pinned into a sleek ponytail. david petersen got his degree at vanderbilt university, moving on to get his phd at unc chapel hill where he could never quite shake that carolina blue. he’s been sitting chancellor for the past six years in tandem with a long term sports-medicine, neuroscience research project that studies the long term affects of brain damage in athletes in contact sports. they both hail from old money families, and long lines of success are continued in two people who hold appearance and accomplishment far above humility or even . . . . humanity lol. they’re good people, really . . . just not really the parenting type.

which is unfortunate! as. well into their marriage, they had twins, caleb, first, and camille, ten minutes later. bright eyed and blonde haired, the perfect petersen babies were angels in their infancy, and it was easy to parent them . . . especially when they were paying someone else to do it.

caleb and camille grew up under the watchful eye of a rosy-cheeked nanny. think julie andrews as nanny in eloise. they were happy, but lonely, though you’d never guess it by their wide smiles in cuddled family portrait christmas cards. for all anyone else knew, scarlett and david were perfect parents, raising two beautiful children who they loved more than anything . . . but behind that iron gated entryway to a house on the coast was another story.

they liked their kids, sure, but whether or not they loved them was another question entirely. camille, growing up to be the spitting image of scarlett, was liked in the way a rare porcelain artifact was. she was a beautiful thing to behold; seen, not spoken to. shown off, not interacted with in anyway. held with delicate hands and passed around as a humble brag: look at this precious thing i’ve brought into the world. i bet mine’s better than yours.

but as time passed, the novelty of having children seemed to wear off, and they were moving to the next big thing, the next big step in their careers. they weren’t around when camille began going by cj because it was easier for little voices to say. they weren’t around when blonde ringlets relaxed and grew darker. they weren’t around when she started to develop a personality of her own, interests of her own, talents of her own. christmas cards would go out, but rarely were they all together on christmas morning. thanksgivings were often spent with grandparents, as their parents worked through the holiday. they spent more and more time away from coston, leaving cj and caleb in nanny’s capable hands.

but life goes on, and sometimes it was easy to forget that it was abnormal not to have your parents around. as a youngin, cj was interested in everything. she took a liking to soccer and lacrosse, painting and drawing, piano and guitar . . . but somewhere in between a blue mat and pale pink pointe shoes, she found her thing.

it was obvious, from an early age, that cj was one hell of a dancer. disciplined and precise when she needed to be. creative and passionate when it called for it. gymnastics trained her strength, ballet trained her patience, contemporary pushed her limits with creativity, partner work taught her teamwork. dance was very clearly her best thing and her favorite thing.

her parents only ever attended recitals when it didn’t conflict with anything else on their schedules and when it was classical ballet. dance was a frivolous thing for them, but for cj it was everything. being a naturally shy kid, naturally timid in the shadow of her last name, she became a completely different person on stage who dominated a spotlight . . . without even needed a literal spotlight. ultimately, this is what she spent her life doing. monday through thursday evenings, dance. competitions and performances on the weekends. if neither were happening, you’d catch her teaching classes at coston’s local studio.

it’s what truly made her happy, but that wasn’t something her parents understood. caleb and nanny did, sure, but her parents? not one bit. someone would ask what she wanted to be when she grew up, and if dance was mentioned, she’d be cut off mid-sentence. they didn’t want to hear about it because it wasn’t logical. you can’t make a career out of it. it didn’t help much that her brother was the ideal child in that realm, charming and on a path to success in the medical field. they still had questionable motives, but they favored nonetheless.

sometimes it was a blessing; sometimes it was a curse. when she could slip under the radar, she was grateful, but it seemed that her parents had a keen eye for her screwups. any chance they had, they’d use to scold her or nudge her away from the pointe shoes.

so cj spent a lot of time being pristine in the way that was expected of her, never letting anyone know too much about her, only keeping a few friends close enough to really know her. she stayed out of trouble, kept up exceptional grades, smiled and nodded when necessary, and began catering to the idea that she’d go to law school, a fate pre-determined by her mother no doubt.

nowadays, she attends brown university, pre-law. she’s a picturesque ivy league gal with a dark academia aesthetic when at school, but there’s a restlessness lingering under the surface. even she’s doing what her parents require of her, she never seems to live up to their unrealistic expectations. we rly do be . . . . waiting for her to have a complete breakdown . . . . aklsdfjha

𝐏 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 𝐎 𝐍 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 .

miss camille . . . better known around town as cj . . . is, above all else, the picture of serenity. she’s levelheaded and calm, and patient as all get out which is probably why she’s so damned accustomed to just going with what her parents thought of her. she’s really great to have in a crisis because very few things cause that steady nature of hers to crumble, and because she’s honestly. . . quietly very maternal. putting the needs of others before her own comes naturally.

she’s quiet and shy, yes, but just because she doesn’t speak doesn’t mean she doesn’t listen. she listens and sees and is . . . quite observant. there’s a way about her that notices the little things, which makes her quite thoughtful when it comes to the people she loves. if you’re lucky enough to be close to her, you can bet she quietly takes notes of little habits and favorites and carefully uses them to idk love ya better ya feel??

reticent comes from the fact that she doesn’t often let people get close to her. the way her parents treated her and caleb growing up has taken. .. . a toll for sure because honestly she’s terrified of disappointing people by shattering the mirror of perfection and revealing too much about herself that’s unexpected

aloof comes from the way she’s calm and quiet . . . and how that sometimes translates as apathy . . . on top of that she’s very daydreamy like she is That Bitch who is staring out of the window producing a whole move in her head which sometimes causes her to not hear when people are talking to her . . . cue the ‘hm? what?’ tuning back in

when i say cj is a different person when she’s dancing . . . . i mean it. like i REALLY mean it. she’s confident and expressive. her choreography tests the limits of tradition. she pushes boundaries when it comes to the physicality of performances. like u rly look at her being quiet and to herself in the corner at a country club event and then see her performing like she invented contemporary and ur like . .. . are u SURE that’s the same girl

people who know her most know her as warm. when she opens up, getting past the shy, she can be a little goofy, definitely has avery creative way about her, wants to know that you’re okay and if you’re not, how can she help ya know!!

has a black cat named lucky because ya know . . . black cats are bad luck . . . ha ha ha ha . . . get it

the ‘j’ in cj is for her middle name . . . but no one really knows what her middle name is . . . except family and close, close friends

absolutely hates the energy of the pogue/kook rivalry and thinks violence is most cERTAINLY not the way to go

often times found by the shoreline at night, just a little ways off from the petersen estate because she likes the way the waves sound as they roll in. it helps her think

is trying to make the best of law school by studying to become a defense attorney and she likes it! sort of! really, she just wants to dance for as long as she can and ultimately open up her own studio

definitely believes in wishing stars

bad case of insomnia

has a finsta dedicated to lucky

has a dance insta too . . . . but that’s lowkey bc her parents can’t know about it

please for the love of god watch this because charity and cj have the same energy

this also has cj energy

so does this . . . classical is fun when it’s telling a story and she loves a good pas de deaux but otherwise meh

my girl is physically . .. QUITE strong

says sorry WAY too often

incessant need to prove herself, prove her worth, since her parents never seem to find it

loves caleb sfm but will thump him in the forehead for mentioning he’s older

overachiever . . . . yikes

ABSOLUTELY burns the candle at both ends

idk if y’all watched high school musical the musical the series but gina . . . . . .. minus the ‘mean girl’ plot they tried . . .. is v cj and bitch i hate to say it but neville longbottom??? also a cj mood LMAO

OK THAT’S IT THAT’S ALL THERE WE GO IT’S DONE I’M DONE GBYYYYYE BABIIIIE

#coston.intro #what the f kinda NONSENSE did i just write lmao

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bentenharuki · 5 years ago

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I generally don’t do these but...

I will do this because it’s a badge of honor and a thank you for @todayintokyo who gives me a daily vibe out of my second fav Country in the world (first one is my own, of course. My messy, chaotic, genius Italy).

So for everyone interested (I won’t tag people either... if you are among my 250+ readers, do it as freely as you like to share this unexpected hard time along others. Sharing makes us all feel less stranded I guess :))

1. Are you staying home from work/school? Yep. My University (Milano Bicocca) holds in-house lessons and curses and also exams and testing are/will be online. What I miss most are the lab works and the exchanges with foreign schools. I took one a few months ago in London and I was supposed to have another in May but... NOPE, of course.

2. If you’re staying home, who’s there with you? I am alone in my apartment. At first it was supposed to be shared rent with somebody else but then my parents just bought this out and lent it to me. I know. I am spoiled. But very grateful for what I have. I always try to give back the best I can because no one has merits in being born in a family instead of another. (pieces of second-rate philosophy in all my LONG answers courtesy of my mum and her influence on me. She’s a University Professor and her field is.. guess what.. ETHICS PHILOSOPHY)

3. Do you have pets to keep you company? Nope. Not allowed. But I like cats. Cats. CATS. They are elegant, refined, very clean, and they give you consideration and affection ONLY if they like you. I prefer to conquer somebody’s love instead than to have it by default. Then I am naturally a cat person instead of a dog’s. But I like all animals (I like snakes as well, so my range is pretty wide ;)), even though I don’t feel missing any in house. Generally I would be out of home most of the day and no pet would be happy in staying that much alone. I miss my grandparents’ kitty tho :)

4. Who do you miss the most? Family. Friends. Meeting new people when out. And... (is it fine to say it?) Well... in these lockdown times I miss... human touch. (You get what kind). I was seeing a guy when this all started and my old boyf also came back into the picture somehow. All on hold. And I avoid to think how that makes me feel because even in case I’d figure it out, what comes if one can’t act on the awareness? Exactly. So I put it all in a LONG pause. But yeah... I miss contacts. A LOT.

5. When was the last time you left your home? I go out every Thursday to buy all my grocery stuff. I am very methodic. My supermarket is pretty near and it’s BIG and I get there right before it opens (well... one hour almost before it opens, so I can be among the firsts in line). I look like a ninja: very sporty and technically dressed (like for a running competition!) with clothes and shoes which are easy washable, tech mask (it is for cycling competition, with filters specifically medical: the mask is washable as well after you’ve used it, while the filter is obviously not), cotton fit gloves and over them medical gloves (I can’t wear directly medical gloves because my skin is very sensitive and I suffer from nickel allergia, which makes latex gloves a NO NO directly on skin), teck googles which cover also the side of my face (those are from cycling items too) and of course PODS in my ear because I can’t live without music :)

6. What was the last thing you bought? I bought online a few garden tools for my biggest balcony. I have ZERO skill with plants (and I am supposed to become a biologist... the nerve! LOL) but I am keen at making grow at least rosemery for my recipes. I have a little peach tree and it is all fine so far. I have hope I can do better and anyway I have time now ;)

7. Is quarantine driving you insane or are you finally relaxed? I try to keep my routine as it was before. I wake up and perform all my tasks exactly as I was doing before this all started. I am VERY organized and to lax on that would ruin me, so I carefully focus on what I can control the best I can. It feels strange to say it maybe but... this way my mood isn’t particularly affected by this heavy revolution in my (and everyone elses’s) life.

8. Are you a homebody? NOPE. I love people, I love my Milan and its being always full of people everywhere. I love living in my town a TON, I love meeting friends anywhere, go dancing, I love to live my University life in this beautiful and renewed part of Milan; I like being surrounded by my people and meeting new ones. So being stuck at home would seem insufferable for me. But I learnt from this (there’s always something to learn in any experience) that I can be surprisingly ok with staying home too. I came to know better my neighbors. I feel a sense of community with everyone living nearby and I have come to love my domesticity too. It was a surprise for me first ^.^

9. What movies have you watched recently? In Italy, Italia 1 channel has had the WONDERFUL idea to rebroadcast all Harry Potter saga every Monday and Thursday. Today and tomorrow there are the last two installments, so I can say that is what I looked out the most for as in movie things these past weeks (funny how I never particularly adored the books of HP, I mean, I liked them but... being a Tolkien’s devotee Rowlings’ literary efforts always seemed lackluster to me.. and still I have always liked the movies. It’s incoherent I know ;)). But I have Sky at home so I can watch whatever movie I like to whenever I want to. And that leads to VERY little watch actually. I am reading a ton though. I watch what passes on in the National channels actually, out of digital and cable and decide to watch it or not. For instance last Friday Rai 1 (main Italian Channel) broadcasted one of my fav movies from the past three years, GIFTED (with Chris Evans and Octavia Spencer) and I rewatched it with immense pleasure.

10. An event that you were looking forward to that got cancelled? OLYMPICS. I was supposed to be back in Japan with a a couple of friends and my bro for experience the Olympics (especially the volleyball tournaments) between July and August and that got (of course) cancelled. We plan to move it all to next year of course. But it hurts SO MUCH because it was easily what I was looking forward to BEST for all 2020. Hands down.

11. What’s the best and worst thing you’ve had to cancel? Look up. For the other question, I never plan things I don’t like (or at least I try my best not to) and I almost never find myself in the position of being happy for something I had going on which I had to pass due to circumstances. I am a very honest (sometimes to the point of bluntness, though with age I got trained in the fine art of diplomacy, which for me is declined especially in the “IGNORE WHAT IS NOT WORTHY degree) person and if there is something I don’t like I tend to not get involved with it in the first place.

12. Do you have any new hobbies? Eh... the longest list... I love so many things. Sport don’t count as hobbies to me because I treat them as part of my daily life constantly. So take them off. I like to write, to draw, to paint... I like reading, I like learning... I am a tech geek; I like gaming (but that I have to cut it or it would absorb me too much)... I like TRAVELING (that is cut off too of course nowadays), and many other things so I guess I don’t literally have SPACE for new hobbies. My many ones makes it impossible to fall for new things though lately I am becoming a better cook out of needs ;)

13. What are you out of? My lists are made as soon my things become “two items in from having 0″. This way I can’t run out of anything. Did I say already I am a HUGE control freak? THAT ;)

14. What music are you listening to? My itunes collections lists so far 12376 ALBUMS. Then I have the random songs. Latest one I bought (because I buy them all) is Achille Lauro’s latest 16 Marzo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yb-9RESbeWA

I am also listening a lot to one of my bro’s fav bands Radiohead and as usual a lot to my beloved Imagine Dragons. My mum and dad are also telling me to listen to Bill Withers (who recently passed away) whole discography because he was amazing. I love many music genres. I love ALL which makes the spirit soar and rage and evolve and love and cry and hope.

15. What are you reading? So far in quarantine I read 5 books. I have now to start ORIGINS by Dan Brown. I pick the books I have left unread randomly and that was the pick this time (people gift me with books constantly because they know I am a bookworm when I have spare time).

16. What are you doing for self-care? Keep loving myself and life and the world exactly the way I used to before this all started.

17. Are you exercising? Yup. Tapis roulant, golf training, stepper (all in my house lucky me) and mat and weight training. I have a routine for which I have to train at least one hour a day. NO EXCEPTION. I miss swimming but I will do. I am also in recovery after January’s knee meniscus intervention so my schedules are also taking that into consideration.

18. How’s your toilet paper supply? I'm OK. :)

19. Have you made any changes to your hair during quarantine? Nope. I love to stylize my hair but I don’t have specific cuts. It grows long and then I play with them hairstyles: braids, buns, ponytails, partitions and the likes.. But I have bleached hair and I had to follow my hairdresser advice because I can’t allow ugly roots to take dominance of me ^.^ So I bought the necessary to self bleach them. No need to say as soon as I will be able to, Hairdressers and Massages and SPA will be my first destination ^.^ (beside visiting family and friends of course).

I am fairly sure I put lots of typos and mistakes in this but I have my online lesson just starting in 8 minutes and I can’t review this (I generally never do it anyway). So forgive me and have a beautiful day ;)

STAY SAFE OUT THERE!!! Hugs K.

#ask list #wow my first one #and probably my last #covid19 #quarantine #lockdown #italy #milan #tag your friends #coronavirus

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eldritchsurveys · 5 years ago

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761.

Does anyone know your bank pin number other than you? Who? >> Yeah, Sparrow does.

Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend who was depressed? >> Sure.

Would you be able to climb out your bedroom window to sneak out? >> Absolutely not, I live on the third floor. --Well, I could climb out, and I might even survive, but... let’s just say it’s pretty goddamn risky. Anyway, I’m an adult and I don’t have to sneak out of my own apartment, so it’s irrelevant.

What would you do if you found out the last person you called was pregnant/got someone pregnant? >> ---

Can you taste the difference between brand name food and store brand food? >> Depends on the food. Some foods are pretty easy to dupe and it’s not a problem, but not all of them.

Would you be embarrassed to buy pads/tampons/condoms? Which one more? >> No, dude.

If a stranger went in your bedroom, would they be able to tell what gender you are from just looking at it? >> I don’t know what someone would guess, it depends on what people use as markers for gender. Besides, I don’t subscribe to a specific gender, so whatever they’d guess would be wrong regardless.

Are your parents gullible? >> ---

Do you still own a VCR? >> I’ve never owned a VCR. By the time I left home, DVDs had won the battle.

About how much money have you spent on food in the past two weeks? >> I haven’t spent any money on food. Sparrow’s unemployment checks have paid for the groceries, because just one of those was still more than I get in a month.

If you were in a car accident would the last person you kissed care? >> I mean, of course the Inworlders would care.

If you were looking for a new pair of shoes where would you go? >> I wouldn’t go anywhere, right now. But in general, I still have no idea where I would go. I’ve always hated shoe shopping, almost more than I hate other clothes shopping.

How much was the last pair of shoes you bought? >> The last pair of shoes I got were about $70 or $80. I didn’t buy them, Sparrow did.

What color is the computer/laptop you’re on? Did you buy it yourself? >> Silver. No, Sparrow’s Best Buy card bought it.

Do you have a second home? >> No.

Would you be surprised if you saw the last person you texted smoking? >> A little, yeah, because the last time I saw her smoke anything was back when I first got here and was still a smoker myself.

Does the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer repulse you? >> The smell of cigarettes can be repulsive to me, which I’ve heard is pretty common amongst ex-smokers. Also, my sensory defensiveness is higher than it used to be, so. The smell of beer doesn’t usually repulse me, but that can vary depending on what kind of day I’m having. The smell of weed is often too strong for my liking, but I don’t necessarily hate it. I just can’t be around it for too long because of, I repeat, sensory defensiveness.

Was the last person you kissed younger or older than you? >> ---

Do you think people have any misconceptions about you? >> Well, duh. Just like I probably have plenty of misconceptions about other people.

Have you ever purchased Girl Scout cookies? >> Yeah.

Do you like waffles? >> Yeah.

Do you watch birthing videos on a day-to-day basis? >> That... seems like one hell of a hobby.

Do you find piercings/tattoos attractive? >> I find them fun and interesting and cool to look at and talk about and learn about. I guess that can be summed up under “attractive”.

Would you talk to someone you don’t know on the internet? >> I always talk to people I don’t know on the internet, it’s kind of part of the experience (unless you just never use the social aspect of the internet).

How often do you drink Monster? >> Never, I hate Monster.

Have you ever made totally pointless videos with your friends? >> Maybe. I don’t really remember doing so, but it’s a possibility.

Do you like to buy those Warped Tour compilations? >> No, but I vaguely remember them.

Do you like sitting on the inside or outside of a restaurant booth? >> I don’t think I prefer one or the other by itself -- it’s usually a combination of different elements that determines whether I’ll sit on the inside or the outside of a booth.

Do you own a nightgown? >> No.

Have you ever made a house out of a giant cardboard box? >> No.

Have you ever made a tent out of sheets in your bedroom? >> No.

Do your grandparents know how to operate a cell phone? >> ---

Have you ever had sex or something like it? >> Yes to... both?

Have you ever read a George Orwell book? >> No, because though I started it, I never finished 1984.

Have you ever worn fishnets? >> Yeah, many times.

How many piercings and tattoos do you have? >> Two [sets of] piercings and three tattoos.

Is someone in your family affected by Asperger’s? >> ---

In a hotel do you always nose through all the drawers and cupboards? >> No.

Would you rather go out to eat or be eaten out? >> I’d definitely rather go out to eat, thanks.

Do you always wear your seat belt? >> Yeah. What’s funny is I was never made to wear one as a child. I had to get used to seatbelts in adulthood. I... have no idea why that is. Not a good look, though.

Have you ever liked someone much older than you? >> Sure.

Have you ever been in a play? >> Yeah, once.

Do you have any secrets that nobody knows about? >> I mean, I wouldn’t call them “secrets” because it’s not that deep, but yeah, there are plenty of things the average acquaintance doesn’t know about me.

Is there ice cream in your freezer? >> Yeah.

Have you ever started to laugh but played it off as a cough successfully? >> Probably.

Have you ever liked the lyrics of a band but hated the music? >> Yeah, that’s kind of how I feel about The Mountain Goats. The lyrics always seem interesting, but then I listen to the song itself and I’m like “bleh...”

Does your bathroom have a window? >> No, and god, I’d give an organ for a bathroom with a fucking window.

Do you go somewhere to get your eyebrows done? >> No.

When you were younger did you read the A Series Of Unfortunate Events books? >> No.

Who was the last band you saw live? >> Hozier and crew.

Do you believe prayer really works? >> It depends on what you expect prayer to do. I think it works greatly for focusing one’s mind and will, for feeling connected to whatever numinous force you’re into, and for the meditative effect. I also think it works to calm one down, to relieve stress, that sort of thing -- which can be helpful when you’re trying to heal from an illness or something, when you think about the body holistically. Now, if you want to claim that prayer literally causes divine power to come out of the universe and, say, completely eradicate a person’s cancer... well, I mean, I just don’t know about that, is all.

Are you a fan of the band Gym Class Heroes? >> No.

Frosted flakes or frosted mini wheats? >> I used to love frosted mini-wheats... it’s been forever since I had those.

Have you been on a date in the park? >> Something like that.

Ever dated someone you were best friends with first? >> Something like that.

Are there any diseases/health problems that run in your family? >> ---

Do you have asthma? >> Nope. I should have, almost everyone else born in my area at that time period was riddled with respiratory ailments. Bad air up in Elizabethport.

Are tongue piercings slutty? >> Sigh.

Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? >> That’s basically a foundational criterion for me to consider someone attractive, lmfao.

Last person to take off your pants, besides you? >> No one takes off my pants except me.

Do you remember those cool highlighters that smelled like popcorn? >> No.

Might you enjoy hanging out in the woods for day or two? >> Absolutely.

Have you ever written something on a bathroom stall? >> No.

Least favorite alcoholic drink? >> Hmm... I guess gin. Rarely will I drink a gin-based cocktail.

Have you ever kissed someone named Paul or Luke? >> Maybe? I don’t know.

How did you meet the last male you texted? >> ---

Have you ever had an embarrassing email address? >> No.

Do you put shampoo in your left or right hand? Left. I had to mime that. <-- lol yeah, same.

Do you have a bull ring through your nose? >> I mean, yeah, more or less.

Do you and your dad get along? >> :|

Can you see your purse right now? >> ---

Are you wearing any perfume? What kind? >> No.

Are there products in your hair? >> No.

When you get colds, do you use nasal spray to help get your nose unstuffy? >> Sometimes, when I get aggravated enough.

Do you actually like sneezing? >> No.

Have you taken a shower yet today? >> No.

Do you have one best friend who is always there for you? >> ---

Do you wear skirts a lot? >> No.

Do you wear sweatpants a lot? >> I don’t have enough pairs to wear them a lot, but let me tell you, if I had more they’re pretty much all I would wear as far as outside clothing goes.

How many pairs of jeans do you think you have? >> I have three pairs, I don’t have to guess.

Do you like hoodies? >> I love hoodies.

Big ones or the form fitting kind? >> Big ones.

Do you wear polo shirts a lot? >> I never wear polo shirts.

Did you ever actually have a rubber duck? >> No.

Are you one of those people who claim to live with no regrets? >> I mean, I don’t necessarily feel great about everything I’ve done, but I’m not going to obsess about it either. All I can do is try to learn from my mistakes moving forward, and hope my brain doesn’t turn on me and make me do more things I’ll have to learn from. I don’t know, man, “regret” just doesn’t feel like a thing I fully comprehend.

Do you love your computer? >> I sure do. Both of them.

Do you drink coffee? >> No.

Do you basically like all of your clothes? >> Sure. When I stop liking them, I get rid of them.

Do you shop mostly with your parents, your friends, or by yourself? >> Either by myself or with Sparrow.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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fandima-moved-read-pinned · 5 years ago

Note

Would it be awesome to see you do all 100 asks? Yes. Will you do them? We shall see.

Wanna bet

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

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?- No, actually. I hate the cold ^^' And if there's cold air on my cheeks then it's on my nose and that's no good

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? - Usually a post it note! Not very random, but it's normally what I have on hand.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? - Depends on my mood! Sometimes I'll take my coffee black, other times ill add a fricc ton of creamer, whipped cream, and sugar. Also sometimes I mix coffee with hot chocolate and it's amazing.

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? - Very.

6: do you keep plants? - Always. I still have the carnations from Valentines Day (which surprisingly haven't died yet)

7: do you name your plants? - Nope.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? - just a mechanical pencil or a graphite pencil. They usually end up being sketches. But if I like how it looks I'll go over them in pen.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? - Yes and no? I'd do it more often but I don't want anyone to hear me. Especially my mom.

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? - Side, always facing the wall.

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? - The only one I can think of off the top of my head is *slap slap slap* *jumps out window*. No I will not explain.

12: what’s your favorite planet? - Pluto! Or Make Make. Make Make used to be my favorite because me and my brother would pronounce it wrong on purpose. But Pluto is ver pretty.

13: what’s something that made you smile today? - seeing my brother's reaction to his birthday present from me! I made a little felt monkey with bushy eyebrows (I needle felted it)

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? - Probably very messy. But also it would constantly smell like food!

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! - Mars is shrinking. It is Smol.

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? - Fettuccine Alfredo with Shrimp! It's what I usually ordered at Olive Garden until I found out that it was expensive and was probably stressing out my parents.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? - Don't laugh okay but pink! I want to dye the bottom half of my hair bright freaking pink. Like hot pink.

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. - That time I slapped a guy twice for picking me up. That guy was my best friend. He picked me up from behind and I sorta whipped around and slapped him. The first time he didn't put me down, he just laughed. So I slapped him again. He got the hint.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?- I don't. I tried a while back, but I figured it would be easier just to talk to people about my issues instead of writing them down.

20: what’s your favorite eye color? - Green. Or dark brown.

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. - Not sure what this means, sorry. I've got this pencil pouch that has a tree print on it that I've used for a few years now even though it has a hole it it. Does that count?

22: are you a morning person? - No. I wake up at 5:30 am on weekdays and usually don't get out of bed until I have ten minutes to get ready and leave.

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? - Stay in my room and draw! Although I don't have lazy days. Every time my mom comes upstairs I immediately start cleaning because if I don't she'll yell at me for being lazy.

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? - Yes. Take a look at who sent this ask. Also my other two online friends! One of them I spam with worms on a string and the other I just know I can trust and I don't know why.

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? - the only place I've broken into is my own house. I had to climb the backyard fence to go through the back door because me and my brother forgot our keys.

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? - My plain black tennis shoes. I need to get new ones because these ones are old and barely fit but every time I mention it, it's like I never said a word.

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? - Candy Cane!

28: sunrise or sunset? - Sunset! I get to see the sun setting behind the Rocky Mountains and it's really pretty.

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

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? - Yes. I'd rather not talk about it.

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. - socks can burn in hell for all I care. I hate socks. I only wear them if I have to (like while wearing shoes)

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. - I remember being at a sleepover a few days before I moved (this was in South Korea) and I woke up at 3:34 am (yes I remember the time don't ask why) because one of my friends was playing Megalovania on the keyboard. Then she turned around and asked who the hell took her pretzels. They were under her pillow.

33: what’s your fave pastry? - c w a s o a n t (with jelly inside!)

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? - I still have this stuffed animal now (I have all of my stuffed animals. I haven't brought myself to get rid of them). It's a little pink blanket with a bunny head named Squeek. Not Squeak. I didn't know how to spell that.

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? - No. I don't have any.

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? - https://youtu.be/7TqLXIBG-6g not a band but still

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? - Messy! It may sound strange, but I can't find anything when it's clean. It also feels empty unless I've got stuff all over the floor.

38: tell us about your pet peeves! - When I tell remind someone of the rules and they say "okay" and continue breaking them. Like we aren't supposed to put pans in the dishwasher because it ruins the pans. Yet my brother always puts them in there. I remind him and take it out, and he says "okay" and puts it back. I also hate it when I ask someone to stop doing something (usually when it's making me nervous or upset) and they ask "WhY?" in a really annoying tone and keep doing it. I ALSO hate it when I'm in charge and yet no one listens to me.

I also don't like it when no one says thank you. It makes it seem like they don't appreciate me.

39: what color do you wear the most? - Grey. I want to wear colorful clothes but the last time we went clothes shopping and I asked for pastel colors, I walked out of the store with grey, light grey, brown, and dark blue clothes.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? - I have a locket that I made for my seventh birthday. It has little charms in it (a rose, my first initial, a heart key, and a birthday cake) and it's gold. I love it and I don't know why.

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? - There's a book series that I don't remember the name of but it's about a girl who is forcibly turned into a siren by three other sirens. She has to eat human hearts to live. It's kinda gorey, kinda romantic, lots of action. I love it.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! - Unfortunately no, I usually get coffee at a gas station ^^'

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? - My dog Freyja! Whenever I take out trash, she comes with, and when the sky is clear I like to point out the starts with her before we go back inside. She's very sweet. But I can't stargaze for more than a minute.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? - Last year I went on a trip to Florida to stay with my grandparents for a week. I remember waking up one morning with a beautiful view of the ocean and the sound of waves crashing onto the shore. My grandparents have an apartment of sorts that faces the Atlantic and you can literally go down the stairs and go swim in the ocean if you want to, it's like a two minute walk, not even. I love the ocean and the sound of waves and seagulls is always calming to me. But my house is very loud and there's no peace here.

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? - Yes. When I have a bad feeling about something, I address it. It's not always true, but I don't want to risk anything.

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. - Sorry, I don't know many puns. I guess I'm just not a pun-ny person.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? - fucking macaroni with bread crumsb that shit is nasty af

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? - Storms, especially tornados. Now my biggest fear is death. Whether I'm the one dying or its someone I care about.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? - Not really, I don't have money to buy anything ^^' Even when I do have money, I spend it on art stuff. That reminds me that I need to fix my radio.

50: what’s an odd thing you collect? - Fabric. I have so much and I don't even use it. But when I see a nice fabric, I get it (if I have money).

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? - 'Old Timer Rock and Roll' (probably not the name of it) always reminds me of my dad. One day we were driving in his Jeep, just us two, and I mentioned that I wasn't a fan of the music on the radio. We ended up compromising and that song was the first one on the radio station that we switched to.

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? - I am unfortunately not up to date with the memes. Although the ones where it's like "you've mc-ed your last Donald" or "you've ratted your last tatouille" always make me exhale aggressively.

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? - None of the above! I've been wanting to watch Heather's though. I just never get around to doing it.

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? - My brother. Not the same one from before.

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? - nothing, sorry. I'm not very dramatic.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? - when they pour their heart out about a certain subject that they love. I know a lot of people tend to bottle up their opinions but when someone trusts me aniugh to tell me all about it, it's just sorta nice.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? - I just sorta spaced out for the first have then did a little dance for the rest of it. I love the line "I see a little silhouetto of a man" and it's more upbeat and the music just makes me dance a little

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? - bold of you to assume I have a group of friends

59: what’s your favorite myth? - There's this one I heard as a kid that involves a faceless girl on the side of a highway who tries to steal faces.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? - I can't think of any off the top of my head, but poetry is nice!

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? - I don't really remember. I try to only give gifts that are meaningful.

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? - nope! I usually drink milk!

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? - I usually leave my music to its own devices, but all the books are organized by series and genre.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? - Blue! Just any other afternoon sky.

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? - My older brother. We don't get to talk much.

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? - Colorful, with a few white flowers!

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? - Those are usually the days that I don't feel anything.

68: what’s winter like where you live? - The weather is all over the place. A little snow, then the next day, it's like 60°F. Not even joking. It snowed Friday and Saturday was warm.

69: what are your favorite board games? - Monopoly and Battleship!

70: have you ever used a ouija board? - No, but I really want to. But my dad won't let me.

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? - I don't really drink tea, sorry!

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? - Nope. I'll forget it anyway. I usually set alarms for certain things but then I don't do it.

73: what are some of your worst habits? - Biting the inside of my cheek and scratching/pinching my arm when I'm nervous.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. - kind, a good listener, talented, and understanding

75: tell us about your pets! - We have four dogs. There's Emrys (the dog I've posted pictures of before), Cirilla (a husky German Shepard mix, very sweet), Cayde-6 (a Rottweiler mix I think, super energetic, loud, and steals food off the counter even when someone is watching), and Freyja (a German Shepard mix, puppy, also very sweet! She knows the phrase 'give hugs' and she always comes with me to take out the trash for whatever reason). I also have a Guinea Pig (who I want to get a friend for because she's lonely, but my parents keep saying no) names Neo.

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? - Working on my Someconsious series, cleaning, and probably checking in with some friends.

77: pink or yellow lemonade? - Pink

78: are you in the minion hateclub or Fan club? - Hate club. I don't like them. They're just annoying and bright and their language is stupid to me.

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? - One of my exes surprised me with a cars and roses out of nowhere. It wasn't Valentines Day, it wasn't my birthday, he just went out of his way to do something nice for me when I was having a rough week.

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? - They're a sort of off white. I want to paint them light lavender or pale blue but my parents have only painted the living room and refuse to paint anywhere else for whatever reason. I know we can afford paint, I know we have time. They just stopped caring.

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. - Not sure what it means by abstract, but I'll try. Her eyes are similar to the bottom of a small river. The brown in the middle with green rings on the edges remind me of a river I used to go fishing in back in Oklahoma.

82: are/were you good in school? - I'm okay. I have all A's and B's, but I have easy subjects that aren't very hard.

83: what’s some of your favorite album art? - I don't really listen to albums, my music taste is mostly individual songs. Even then I don't really pay attention to the art.

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? - I want to get a quote of sort on my ankle. Something in another language so I can tell them it means something mysterious and deep when in reality it's the description of a toaster oven that hasn't been cleaned since 1995.

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? - I read a few webcomics if that counts! I like Castle Swimmer a lot! Gay fish bapeys are best fish bapeys.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? - I don't know what those are, sorry

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? - The Princess Bride and the Last Unicorn. But I'm biased because they're both a part of my childhood.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? - not in particular!

89: are you close to your parents? - I'm only close with my dad. My stepmom can go fuck herself. She just told us that's she'll be making a schedule for the next two weeks because there won't be school. One of the weeks was spring break anyway! We aren't missing much!

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. - I like Palm Beach in Florida! It's fairly quiet, right next to the ocean, and filled with retired people who are all really nice.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? - Nowhere, we don't travel much. I really want to go to Florida again though.

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? - I don't add cheese at all! It sort of ruins the texture for me. Especially the grated sprinkle cheese stuff l. I hate now it feels.

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? - I just keep my hair down. I don't like it in any other way.

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? - My brother. His birthday is today!

95: what are your plans for this weekend? - cry a lot cry some more lose feelings for a few hours draw watch YouTube art videos then try not to yell at my mom like I did last week

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? - I just get it over with so I can do whatever needs to be done. Or I schedule it for when I'm not going to be using it.

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? - INFP-T/Mediator, Scorpio, and Hufflepuff

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?- A few weeks ago. And no, I did not enjoy it considering I was supposed to be working on an important project that day.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. - Where We Started, If You're Going Through Hell, and We Like to Numb (a mix of We Like to Party and Numb)

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? - Future. In five years I plan on being in college and I want to see what I should be prepared for and if my interests have changed.

This took me at least an hour and a half. Thank you though! I

#Long Post #Aven Answers #tw cursing

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crazedlunatic · 5 years ago

Text

Blaine Meets the Colloway’s

“Oh no. Someone fucked up because Charlie’s here and Dad just let someone in.”

“Sammy, please.”

“That’s his friend who he likes. I met him. Daddy lets him steal his stuff off his desk.”

“Emily, honey, there is a difference in borrowing and stealing. How many times do I have to tell you this?”

“Let the girl use her imagination. Honestly, if someone would steal stuff off of his desk he probably would be a lot happier.”

“Grandma, I don’t think it works that way.”

“Oh no, what did Brady do? This is definitely a Brady.”

“Told you it’s chaos.” Bob said as Blaine listened to several different people talking over each other in the other room. “Don’t have four kids… or let Kurt’s parents move in.”

Blaine, who was looking around the very nicely decorated house, turned his attention to Bob.

“Just so you know, I have a literal mini me… sometimes when we don’t warn people they react like we’re the twins from The Shining which is really annoying so please don’t.” Bob added.

“Mini me?”

As if on cue, a young guy who looked exactly like Bob but twenty years younger came into the hallway.

“Hey, Dad.” The guy waved, a baby in his arms.

“Hey, Charlie. This is my intern, Blaine.” Bob said, gesturing at Blaine.

“Hey. I’d shake your hand but she just fell asleep… with all of that talking. I wish I could do that.” Charlie yawned.

Bob took the baby. “Go nap before Emma realizes you’ve been gone too long.”

“You’re the real MVP, Dad.” The guy, Charlie, left the room.

“He is actually a clone. Not a mini me. Because you two are the same height and look exactly alike.” Blaine looked at Bob.

“Yeah and my youngest son doesn’t look like me at all but acts and talks exactly like I do.” Bob shrugged one shoulder and smiled, looking at the baby. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Uhm, no thank you.” Blaine’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t want to give her up anyway.” Bob shrugged and walked into the kitchen with Blaine.

Blaine looked around, seeing an older couple at the table with Emily. His wife Sarah was at the stove saying something to… herself, maybe, since nobody was next to her? A woman that was probably just under Blaine’s age, that he assumed was Charlie’s wife was sitting at the island, also looking half asleep. A preteen boy was scrolling on his phone at the island next to her, looking very bored.

“Oh no. He’s brought an intern. Who did what?” The oldest man looked amused.

“Did you already forget about my car?” Bob deadpanned, handing the baby off to the young woman who came to take over.

“What happened to your car?” The man asked, looking confused.

Bob let out a sigh and the man grinned as the older woman hit his shoulder and sent him a look that clearly said ‘stop.’

“These are my parents. My dad is a comedian.” Bob sighed. “Everyone, this is Blaine.”

“Oh my God. He has curls.” Sarah gasped. “I did not see those last time.”

“I spilled something on myself and had to shower… and didn’t have enough time to, uhm, deal with them.” Blaine admitted.

“Don’t be too hard on Brady.” Bob’s mother said, giving Bob a look.

“He got drunk and totaled my car!” Bob exclaimed.

“Well at least he didn’t bring an alpaca home.” Bob’s dad gave an over-exaggerated shrug, causing the youngest son to laugh loudly.

“Please let’s not talk about that. It’s stressful.” Sarah sighed, coming over and hugging Blaine as though she’d met him several times. “How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m good. How are you?” Blaine asked.

“Well I’ve been better.” Sarah smiled and looked at Robbie. “You know he’s still pretty pissed. What if he’s mean to Blaine?”

“Then I’ll be mean right back to him once Blaine leaves.” Bob said very seriously.

“Oh, why bother waiting to let him see how you really are?” The preteen asked. “You know, mean and an asshole?”

“Quit cursing!” Sarah exclaimed. “You are not your father.”

“He pretty much is.” Bob’s dad interrupted. “If he and Charlie swapped looks, they would pretty much be the same.”

“It’s true.” Bob’s mom added, smiling at Blaine.

Sarah sighed as the back door opened and a boy who looked right in-between the age of Charlie and Sam (Sammy?) walked in. He had Sarah’s hair and skin tone but Bob’s eyes—he was also taller like Bob. So far, he was the kid that looked the most like both Sarah and Bob.

“Dead man walking.” Sam sang, not even glancing up.

“Dad, no.” The boy glared.

“Oh, yes. You totaled my car and I haven’t killed you yet so you should actually be begging for your life.” Bob said, sounding irritated.

“Also,” Sarah said from across the kitchen. “You were supposed to come home right after school.”

“I had practice.”

“Wrong. I called the school.” Sarah gave him a look.

“I’m going to my room.”

“Great. This is Blaine and you’re going to talk to him. Actually, you don’t even have to talk back but you will listen to him.” Bob said sternly.

“Seriously?” Brady scoffed.

“You want to play soccer, right? Your coach already called me today about whether he should allow you to play. If you don’t seriously talk to him, I’m telling him to not let you.” Bob blinked at him.

“Fine.” He snapped and then said, in a much nicer tone, “I’m the horrible middle child in the family. Nice to meet you. Come to my room in a cupboard under the stairs.”

Blaine followed Brady out—first, thinking that he was actually super happy to hear a Harry Potter reference. And second, finding it hilarious that Bob’s dad let out a very loud laugh at that.

“So, how did you get him to like you?” Brady asked after going into his room and closing the door behind them. “He basically hates everyone.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Blaine said, sitting at Brady’s desk chair since Brady had sat on his bed.

“Have you actually met him?” Brady tilted his head. “He’s an asshole.”

“You’re kind of being one right now too.” Blaine shrugged.

“Do you even like him? Because honestly he runs most of the interns off.” Brady said.

“I’m actually here to talk about you and not your dad.” Blaine said slowly. “But, yes. I do like him. I think he’s a great person.”

“Try living with him.” Brady sighed. “You probably wouldn’t say the same thing.”

“They’re just worried about you.”

“Why would they be worried about me?”

“Because you totaled a car after driving drunk last night?” Blaine tilted his head.

Brady made eye contact but didn’t say anything.

“He mostly wanted me to talk to you because I, uhm… did the same thing when I was your age. Actually, when I was 16 and had only had my learner’s permit for two days… so it was a bit worse…” Blaine admitted, feeling weird.

He hadn’t even talked to Kurt about this really.

Yet here he was, for the second time in one day, telling someone that wasn’t Kurt.

“So, we’re both stupid.” Brady sighed.

“Yeah.” Blaine nodded.

“Why’d you do it?”

“I was drunk and someone said something that pissed me off… and I wanted to do something stupid because of it. Literally. That was my thought process. I’m pissed and drunk, so I’m going to do something stupid. So I stole my best friend’s brand new car and was caught going, like, 35 miles over the speed limit or something… I even went to jail. I mean, they held me in a separate place but… yeah, I did all that stuff. Picture, thumb prints…”

Brady nodded.

“And my parents did the same thing. Got me out and had it taken off my record… which is why I work for Bob—well, for your dad, now. Why did you do it?”

“I’m having a hard time I guess.” Brady shrugged, glancing to make sure the door was still closed.

“Want to talk about it?”

“You’re gay, right? I mean… no offense. But I don’t think you’d wear those shoes if you were straight.”

Blaine frowned, unable to tell if he was about to be rude or not. “Yes, I am.”

“If I ask you something will you not tell my dad?”

“Are you in trouble?” Blaine asked slowly.

“So next year I start at NYU… I have already signed a lease with my girlfriend… she might be pregnant for the second time… and I am 100% sure that I might be gay. Well, that I am. Gay.” Brady said, looking at the ceiling.

“Oh.” Blaine’s eyes widened.

Because, sure, he didn’t have the best gaydar in the world… Brady, however, hadn’t even given off a blip.

“And she also said if she is pregnant, she’s keeping it this time.” Brady added, looking back down finally. “So, yeah. I’m not even eighteen and I’ve probably already fucked up my life. Meanwhile Mom and Dad are busy taking care of my really sick grandfather, my older brother doesn’t have time for me anymore, my godfather lives all the way in New York and can’t make a trip down for three weeks even though my life is spiraling out of control, and my best friend isn’t talking to me because I’m acting like… well, like my dad. So, life is going great.”

“I’m sorry.” Blaine said, watching him carefully. “If you told your godfather how much was going on, I’m sure he’d come down.”

“No. He can’t. He’s a lawyer like Dad and takes on eve bigger cases.” Brady frowned. “And it’s not like I can even come out. There’s already so much going on and, honestly, I don’t even want Dad to know.”

“Why not?” Blaine asked, shocked.

“Because he’s been saying something was wrong and making me go to counselors and stuff… I really don’t want to prove him right.” Brady let out a sarcastic laugh. “So, I guess I just play straight dad until the kid is 18 if she is pregnant again?”

“First of all…” Blaine said. “What you have going on matters just as much as the other stuff going on with your grandparents and everything… I don’t know anyone else in your family but Bob is really… I mean, he’s always been really understanding and supportive with me and I’ve had a difficult upbringing.”

“You’re not his kid, though.”

“He’s not supportive?” Blaine asked, shocked.

Then again… Brady did seem to be upset and when Blaine was upset, he wasn’t very rational himself. Hence the drunk driving and arrest.

“Let’s just say we aren’t exactly getting along right now and haven’t been for a while… really, probably since I figured it out.”

“Because you’re scared of coming out and pushing him away?” Blaine asked.

“You really are going to be a lawyer, aren’t you?” Brady laughed a bit. “Fine. How’d your dad take it then?”

“Horribly. Conversion camps and I ended up basically running away and living with my friends and their parents until college… that’s the long story short.” Blaine bit his lip.

Brady’s eyes widened and he waited several seconds before saying, “Okay. You win.”

Blaine smiled a bit. “It will be okay. You should tell him.”

“I’m not ready yet. To tell anyone really… but you’re gay and I don’t know where Ryan lives.” Brady bit his own lip.

“That’s okay. I won’t say anything.” Blaine promised. “But if you ever need to talk… I mean, don’t you all even know the Caldwell family? Would you feel comfortable talking to Matt?”

“Oh, I can’t even look him in the eye.” Brady shrugged. “That should have been the tip off when I was ten. I just blush.”

“I can see that.” Blaine laughed again. “He’s dating one of my best friends. He’s really nice but kind of overwhelmingly attractive until you get used to him.”

“I’m sure he is nice. All the Caldwell’s are known for it… thanks for the suggestion, though.”

“What about Charlie?”

“I love Charlie but he’s a worry wart and will tell Dad anything ‘serious’ that’s bothering me. That’s why I don’t really talk to him about it anymore.” Brady said. “Not the serious stuff… and not about thinking I’m gay. Uhm, knowing I’m gay. He doesn’t know that.”

“Do you want my number? In case you ever want to talk and your dad not know about it?” Blaine asked. “If I can’t answer right away, I will as soon as I can.”

“I can take it but I probably won’t use it.” Brady admitted, holding his phone out for Blaine.

“Just a tip. May want to change your wallpaper if you don’t want them to figure it out.” Blaine joked, seeing a picture of Brendon Urie on it. He then typed in his number and held the phone back out. “Just text me if you want to… or call too, I guess, but nobody really talks on the phone anymore.”

“Thanks.”

“And if you need a DD, you can text or call too.” Blaine added.

“I actually don’t usually drink but thanks.” Brady said, standing. Which was funny because when Bob wanted to end a conversation and they were in his office, he’d always stand as a signal too. “What?”

“Your dad does that too. Stands when he’s ready to end the conversation.” Blaine pointed out.

Brady groaned like he’d just been told he was losing an arm and led his way out of the bedroom saying, “That was very rude.”

….

“So… what do you think?”

Blaine, who was standing on Bob’s front porch with him about to leave, shrugged.

Bob gave him a look.

“I think that you may want to calm down and talk to him in a few days. He seems like he feels bad for what happened…”

Bob raised his eyebrow. “And?”

“And I think he has a lot going on so maybe… be a little less angry than you want to be.” Blaine said.

“He told you something.”

“He did.” Blaine nodded. “However, I told you to not listen so I’m not going to tell you what he said. Just… try to be open to anything he might say?”

“Wait. What?” Bob asked.

“I know you’re worried but he’ll be okay. Just be there and open when he’s ready to talk to you.” Blaine said. “I really do need to go. I know you gave me extra days for that paper but I’ve got other stuff due to so I need to go home and do your paper…”

Bob gave him a suspicious look.

“Your family is great. Your mom is so sweet and your dad is hilarious.” Blaine smiled. “And your wife and kids are great too, so… thanks for letting me eat with you all tonight.”

Bob’s facial expression softened and he nodded. “Any time. Really.”

“Well I’m not coming into the office tomorrow so I’ll kind of see you in class but really see you on Wednesday?” Blaine asked, feeling somewhat awkward.

Was it weird to say that?

Then again, was Blaine just weird all together?

“I’ll see you Wednesday. Be careful getting home, okay?” Bob asked.

“You too. I mean, have a good night.” Blaine looked confused.

“Do you need an extra day on that paper?” Bob asked.

“No.” Blaine shook his head. “I’ll be careful and sort of see you tomorrow. Good night, Bob.”

“G’night, Blaine.” Bob said, waiting for Blaine to back out of the driveway before going inside and locking the door.

“Well, he was nice.” Bob’s dad said from the couch.

“Yeah.” Bob said, sitting on the couch with him.

“That’s the one, then? With the crappy homelife that’s had the panic attacks?” He asked him.

“Yeah.”

“Do both of yourselves a favor and don’t let him leave your practice. You already look and talk to him like you do your kids.” Bob’s dad gave him a pointed look.

“No, I don’t.” Bob made a face.

“Fine. Then you don’t.” His dad shrugged. “You didn’t like Sarah either, though, and here we are. You also didn’t want more than two kids… or to be a high profile lawyer… or to—”

“Okay. I get it.” Bob sighed.

“Sometimes you end up right where you’re supposed to be, Robbie. Kinda like with Sarah.”

“That’s different, Dad.”

“Is it really, though?” Bob’s mom asked, coming in. “You got yourself in a pickle looking over that will stuff, didn’t you?”

“I may have.” Bob took a deep breath.

“There is nothing wrong with caring about someone.” Bob’s dad gave him a look. “It sounds like he might need it honestly.”

“He was so sweet too.” Bob’s mom said. “I think he and Charlie could be very good friends. Plus, Sarah loves him.”

“Well there might something wrong caring about someone when it’s your intern who has already been offered a job.” Bob said. “It looks inappropriate.”

“Since when have you cared about what people thought?”

Bob didn’t say anything.

“And if what you’ve said about his homelife is true, he needs someone. He obviously cares about you if he came to your house to talk to a pissed off stranger who I can guarantee probably wasn’t all that nice to him.” Bob’s mom said.

“You walked into that boy’s life for a reason just like you walked into Sarah’s.” Bob’s dad said. “Don’t give two flying fucks what anyone else thinks. You’ve already bonded with the kid. He’s clearly already bonded with you. He needs someone in his corner and that someone is you.”

Bob nodded, still not speaking.

“We’re going to head to bed.” His mom stood and helped up his father. “Can you help us up the stairs?”

Bob nodded and headed to the stairs, patiently waiting for his parents to make it over—only because his father got annoyed when he hovered or walked slowly behind them.

“Still not happy we’re moving before I got my elevator.” His dad huffed when Bob helped him up the stairs.

“You can thank Brady for following Charlie to New York for that one, Dad.”

“That kid’s going to New York too, right? Blaine?” His dad asked.

“Yes.” Bob said, voice even.

“Good.” Bob’s mom smiled, following behind them. “Because we like him.”

“Yeah. I do too.”

#dunno I've just always pictured Bob's dad being the one to give Bob the push to REALLY connect with Blaine #like bob wants too but feels weird about it #and his dad's like 'no sorry he's our new grandchild bye'#wbuct drabble #bob bob bob #i also like brady confiding in him too #i just have colloway feels guys

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cfdobrev · 5 years ago

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—[ alexa demie. cisfemale. pansexual.] lace lingerieand drunken calls at 3am always remind me of catherine ramirez, who happens to be a twenty year old dance student. they are known for being flirty and manipulative which probably explains why they are into hardcore sex and forced orgasms. [effy/22/gmt+3/she/her]

hello, guys! it’s me. effy. hello. i’m here with this trash child by the name of catherine ramirez. she’s literal golden trash but all my muses are my trash children, so you know? i love her to the moon and back, because i’ve been playing this muse for about a few years now and this version of it is HEAVILY inspired by euphoria’s maddy perez. you can read about her down below. please, contact me if you’d like to plot.

she was born and raised in london, catherine was your typical it-girl. she used to study in one of the most prestigious middle school not only in the uk but in the world - westminster mixed school. she’s always known all the cool places and has had that air around her that just screams british glam. a smile is always gracing her face, long chocolate curls sliding down her back. beautiful emerald-green eyes looking around through dark lashes.

she used to live with her grandmother, the woman having a fortune and making it clear that catherine would be studying in the best private school, that she’d be dressed in the best possible clothes and that she’d get everything good in life. given her life, one would think she’s a total crybaby, an heiress, a mean girl…and one would turn absolutely right. as time passed she grew more and more spoiled. on the other hand, her sister was a totally different story. she was nothing like catherine, the two of them barely able to tolerate each other. her parents had passed away when she was only six years old, her mother a sister to bodley manor’s dean and her father a spanish businessman. when they passed, they left cat and her sister separate huge trust funds for them to operate when they turned 18. when she turned 15, she was sent to a boarding school, just like her mother before and her mother before and so on. she’s obviously a legacy and every little thing about her is showing it. from her clothes and shoes, to the jewellery she wears. her sister, however, was sent to live with her grandparents in spain.

she was the main bitch, the queen b, whatever you want to call her at the boarding school she went to and EVERYONE knew it. no one fucks with catherine ramirez and whoever tries gets destroyed. however, catherine is not all bad. she gives everything for the people she loves. the way she is, is because even though her grandmother was an amazing guardian - she could never replace cat’s mom. and cat had to leave with that hole in herself, without the love of her parents. she tried to fill that void with partying, sex and drugs and…it just never happened to be filled.

her last year of schooling there, catherine fell for the ‘bad boy’. he was everything her grandma had warned her about. he was self-destructive and he only knew how to use and manipulate those around him. and while their relationship was passionate and exciting, everything else in her life was suffering. her friends couldn’t recognize her, her grandmother didn’t know what to do,but she didn’t care. she absolutely and madly in love with him and the more time went by, the more she fell for him. they were toxic for each other but they couldn’t see it and even if they did, they couldn’t care less about it. that’s why her grandmother decided to send her to a university far away from england, all the way to texas. her grandma knew that the boy was no good and he would absolutely destroy catherine’s chances at any future.

the thing catherine doesn’t know is that her trust fund is almost empty and so is her grandmother’s fortune. you see, cat has a grandfather with a passion for gambling and he has been spending the family’s money like crazy. her trustfund has only 15% of what was left in it and the brunette is on her way of finding out that soon she could be completely broke.

#ulysseshq.intro

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islareeveswriting · 6 years ago

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INSTAS

It’s never easy being wrong.

Molly wasn’t someone who always needed to be right, or have the last word, that didn’t bother her. As a child she’d left that to her sister who enjoyed using her two year age advantage over Molly when it came to being right. How could she be wrong when she’d been living for two years longer? Surely their mother really had said it would be ok to wear the shoes she kept in boxes over the gravel outside their house. However, it was never a nice feeling when Molly found out she’d been wrong about something, anything. It didn’t frustrate her the way it did some people, but she still didn’t like it.

However, sat in the passenger seat of Harry’s car on a Thursday evening, steaming down the motorway towards her hometown, as ill as she could ever remember being, frustration wasn’t strong enough.

There wasn’t a part of her that intended on giving into Harry’s insistence that she needed to see a doctor. Not her throat that felt like it had been attacked with sandpaper, not her head that felt too heavy to hold up, or the ache in her legs that just made her want to lie down all day. Nothing made her want to see her family doctor, nothing made her want to ring that number and make an appointment, nothing apart from the look in his eyes when he all but begged to her to do so. It was virtually impossible to keep saying no, and eventually she just couldn’t anymore, so she gave in.

It was clear she wasn’t getting any better, in fact it was possible she was getting worse, and it was hard to argue that she didn’t need antibiotics when no amount of self-prescribed, over the counter, medication was making any odds. By the time Harry walked into his apartment at lunchtime, Molly still cocooned in a blanket on his sofa, the way he’d left her with a cup of tea that hadn’t been finished, there was no getting away from it, and the soft concern on his face when he sat on the coffee table and bent down to her a little, was overbearing. It was almost hard to look at him like that and not burst into tears.

Despite that though, it didn’t mean that when Molly dialled the doctors surgery number and got an appointment for the next day, it was still a little begrudgingly and definitely not fully willing. Even when her mother gleefully told her she couldn’t wait to see her, or meet her ‘friend’, Molly was resentful. The appointment was twenty four hours away at that point, but already the anxious feeling of walking into that surgery was inside her.

As they got closer, the minutes on Harry’s built in navigation system ticking down a little too quickly, the nerves increased. The two hour journey was flying by, quite literally as Harry flitted around other cars on the road with ease, and Molly wished it actually took four hours to get home, the way she’d told Harry it was in hope to put him off his willingness to take her home. She should have known that wouldn’t work. They weren’t really talking, not out of choice, but Molly’s voice wasn’t really up to the task, her sore throat and anxiety made it both quiet and shaky, not ideal for conversation. The lack of chat should have made the time drag, but it just wasn’t.

The closer they got to Molly’s family home, the more Molly wished she’d not been such a sucker for Harry’s sympathetic eyes, or his soft touch, or sweet voice, the more she wished she’d carried on putting her foot down. She’d tried everything, she had a lecture, he had work, it was unnecessary, but Harry had an answer for everything. She could get the notes there was no point going when she was feeling the way she was anyway, he could skip work and make it up later, he was self-employed he answered to himself, when she was that sick it was entirely necessary. Molly was lost for answers or excuses, and in the end Harry just handed her the phone and told her to make an appointment. So she did, like there wasn’t an internalised fear making her stomach plummet or heart race, and like there wasn’t far more to it than the fact she was sure she just had a cold.

And admitting as much to Harry could be far more terrifying than the fear itself.

Winter was still clinging on for dear life. There was still another month of it to go, but Molly was ready for spring days, a few less layers and for sunshine to last a little longer. Christmas was over and done with, and she was wishing winter was too as the dark evenings continued to draw on. It was barely six o clock as Harry turned off the motorway at long last, but the sky was blanketed in a black sheet littered with tiny spots of glittering stars. It was a true winter’s night, and Molly was not looking forward to getting out of the warm car into the cold night.

“Your sister’s home too?” Harry asked, seemingly a little more relaxed now they were out of the busy four lanes of traffic. The roads to Molly’s village reminded her of the roads to Nancy’s house, small and windy, unlit by streetlights and full of potholes. They were probably far more dangerous than the motorway they’d been on for over an hour, but both of them seemed easier on the country roads.

“Yeah,” Molly mused, her voice was scratchy through her throat, gravelly like she’d been chain smoking since she was old enough to buy cigarettes. Clearing her throat only hurt though and as she did it to get her voice out a bit more, she winced at the sting. “Her boyfriend is away for work this weekend and she has every other Friday and Saturday off so she decided to come home.” Molly explained.

“And you’re sure your parents are ok with me staying?” Harry asked, his voice unsuitably whimsical, clearly trying to appear as if staying at Molly’s parents house so last minute, and uninvited, wasn’t still playing on his mind. Molly had laughed, out loud and without reservation when Harry had told her he’d find a hotel for a couple of nights. She’d thought he was joking, actually trying to make her laugh, but it was very clear that wasn’t that case when he just frowned, confused, at her, and blinked a couple of times until Molly realised, he was very seriously going to look for a hotel.

“Harry, it’s more than ok.” Molly assured for about the fifth time. In the months since Molly had met Harry, she’d never really seen him nervous, but as she sat in his passenger seat, yet again, and they rolled closer and closer to her parents home, she began to notice how much firmer his fingers seemed to tug at his lip, and how much more he rolled them together between his teeth. It was endearing, eyes fixed on the road, one hand on the wheel and the fingers of the other pulling aggressively at his bottom lip. Molly chuckled and reached out for his hand pulling it away from his mouth and holding onto it, similar to the way Harry had done for her before they sat down for breakfast with his friends. Harry flicked his eyes to Molly for a second and saw the reassuring smile on her face, and her softened eyes. “Stop worrying, it’s going to be fine.” Molly promised, and it was true. There was no doubt her family would love Harry, her mother already did, no one had been able to convince her to book a doctors appointment for years.

“Mr and Mrs Thomson yeah?” Harry asked, and Molly giggled, shaking her head.

“Terry and Penny.” Molly corrected sternly. Harry sighed and let his shoulders fall. “You’re overthinking this-”

“I’m meeting your parents!” Harry pointed out shrilly, only another pointer at how on edge he was feeling, if the white knuckles around the steering wheel weren’t enough of an indication.

“Harry, I met your nan months ago.” Molly reminded him, hoping he’d remember how easy he’d felt about that.

“Not to stay the night.” Molly sighed and shook her head.

“You know what you’re right, it’s probably going to be awful, my dad will probably hate you and mum, god don’t get me started, she hates tattoos so best keep covered up, Jeanie’s an absolute bitch so be ready for snarky comments galore, Moseby might like you but then again, he doesn’t really like men he doesn’t know, so that’s not guaranteed.” Molly listed dramatically, staring out of the windscreen as she spoke, but glancing to Harry with an impish grin once she’d finished. “That’s what you want me to say right?” Harry just rolled his eyes and shook his head, struggling to keep the smirk off his face. “It’s going to be so fine, I promise you.” Molly told him, squeezing his hand quickly before letting go so Harry could change gear as they slowed for the village speed limit.

Of course the village was quiet, it was a village, and unless someone fancied a thirty minute drive out to one of the bigger surrounding towns, there was little to nothing to do past seven o clock. Lights were on in the houses, a few curtains open allowing a glance into the quiet lives inside. To some it was dull, to Molly it was home, and the comfort made her only a little more glad Harry had managed to twist her arm and get her there. She almost felt better already as they turned down the narrow lane away from the centre of the village to Molly’s parents home, Harry’s headlamps officially the only light now they were off the main road. The gravel crunched under Harry’s tyres as he slowed further to accomodate for the uneven road surface.

“This one.” Molly announced, pointing to the black steel gates that were pinned open, the way they always had been. Molly had never known them closed until they went on holiday and her father would hop out of the car, moan about the ‘wretched, pretentious gates’ and close them behind the family car. Lights were on in the house, and over the porch. Molly didn’t look to Harry as they approached. The house was slightly imposing, Molly knew that, with it’s nine front windows and grandiose front porch. It had been in the family for generations, Molly had grown up in it as her grandparents house, until they decided to downsize to something without stairs and it moved down to her father. To her it was just home.

“Nice.” Harry commented with a curt nod.

“Been in the family for years this place, little bit of Thomson history for you.” Molly joked.

“That’s pretty cool though, don’t even know what town my grandad grew up in, let alone what house.” Harry admitted to Molly, another little window into him and who he was. It wasn’t the first time Molly wondered if Harry was at all aware of how valuable each little piece of himself he gave away was to her, if he even realised he was giving anything away at all, or even if he knew how guarded he tended to come across. When they’d first met it often felt like he was purposefully holding things back, but it didn’t feel like the way he let her in was quite so purposeful to Molly.

The driveway was dark save for the orbital glow of the single lamp above the porch. It was as cold as Molly had feared it would be and she hurried to the door with Harry by her side, though he seemed to drop back a bit as she opened the solid oak door with a key she’d fished from her bag as they’d walked. The warmth of the house hit Molly instantly and she could have sworn she heard the crackle of the fire in the living room. There was a lingering smell of something cooking and whatever it was smelt like something Molly could do with in her tummy, despite her waning appetite.

“Hello.” Molly called, or tried to, though her sore throat made it difficult and painful. Instantly her eyes creased shut as severe sting cut at her throat and lingered for a few seconds, as if to ensure she didn’t forget just how raw her esophagus actually was. Harry didn’t seem to question reaching forward and rubbing her back as he dropped the worn leather duffle bag he was carrying to the floor.

“Ok?” He asked quietly concerned.

“Yeah, just forgot.” Molly admitted, clearing her throat as gently as possible. “We can leave these here for now.” Molly suggested, leaving her bag beside Harry’s on the wooden floor. Suddenly Molly felt a little nervous, though she couldn’t put her finger on where it had come from. When she’d told Harry she knew it would be fine, she’d meant it, yet still she felt unprecedentedly anxious as she began to lead Harry to the living room.

Molly could hear the TV as they got closer to the living room, on the left of the staircase. The sound of Stephen Fry’s voice told her, her dad was watching yet another repeated episode of QI. The light was on at the end of the hallway, her mum probably in the kitchen fussing over food whilst Jeanie scrolled through her phone, bored of the TV programme, curled at the end of the sofa. It was as predictable as the sun rising in the morning, and the scene that greeted Molly as she rounded the door to the living room confirmed it.

“Evening,” Molly croaked as cheerfully as she could. Her father looked up to her from the TV and instantly beamed.

“Hello trouble, god you look awful sweetheart.” Terry lamented with a frown.

“Great, thanks Dad.” Molly huffed before leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Dad, this is Harry.” Molly introduced, stepping aside and motioning her hand towards Harry who was lingering back slightly, hands thrust into his pockets, though he quickly pulled them out and stepped over to offer Terry his hand.

“Good to meet you sir.” Harry grinned as Terry took his hand and shook it firmly.

“None of that now son, Terry’s fine.” Harry just nodded as their hands released. “Want a scotch? Hellish drive that one, bet you’re feeling a bit ragged.” Terry announced placing his own crystal glass on the side and getting to his feet, pulling the maroon knitted jumper down over the waistband of his faded jeans. The hole in one of the threadbare woolen socks her dad was wearing caught Molly’s eye and she shook her head quietly pointing at it discreetly and turning to her sister who just giggled quietly with a shrug.

“Oh no, I’m fine.” Harry tried to insist with a subtle shake of his head.

“You sure, scotch on the rocks? It’s a good one.” Terry pressed, heading for the door but lingering slightly. Molly looked at Harry and saw his jaw twitch a little and the slight bob of his Adam’s apple in his throat.

“Dad-”

“Oh go on then,” Harry cut over Molly, his confident tone contradictory to the way he appeared to Molly. “Just a small one though.” Harry smiled, and Terry nodded before disappearing from the lounge.

“You don’t have to be polite.” Molly told him, creasing her brow a little. There was no doubt in her mind Harry didn’t want to partake in whiskey with her dad, the look on his face at the offer, and the twinges of his face when her dad had pushed a little, had told her that much. Though Harry just smiled and shook his head, trying to tell her he wasn’t just being polite, but being interrupted by a cough from the sofa. Molly looked over her shoulder, her older sister curled up on the couch with her short red bob pinned back from her face and oversized glasses taking over her dainty features. It wasn’t particularly hard to see they were sisters, though the book folded open in Jeanie’s hand was evidence they certainly weren’t the same person even if they looked alike. “Yes?”

“Do I not get introduced?” Jeanie teased with wide eyes.

“Where’s Moseby?” Molly asked, “I’m doing favourites first.”

“Mum will kill you.” Jeanie returned cockily, though Harry just chuckled at the sibling interchange. “I’m Jeanie, the nicer, better looking, all round superior Thomson sibling.” Jeanie smiled sweetly at Harry, but that quickly changed to something bitter when her eyes flicked to Molly.

“Espescially in the ego-”

“Cecilia, you’re home, thanks for letting me know.” Molly’s mother scoffed, practically skipping into the living room, wiping her hands on the apron she had tied around her middle.

“She’s doing it in order-”

“Hi mum.” Molly croaked loudly, cutting out her sisters voice and stepping forward to hug her mum, glaring at Jeanie and noticing the breathy chuckle that seemed to come from Harry’s direction. “Sorry, Dad caught us, he’s gone to get Harry a scotch.”

“God that man will turn into a bottle of Glenfiddich the rate he goes.” Penny scalded, letting go of her daughter to turn to the stranger in her home. Though the way she reached up to embrace Harry, her petite frame, the one Molly and Jeanie had inherited, encircling Harry’s tall broad one without question, and like she’d known him since he was a boy as much as she had her own daughter. “Lovely to meet you Harry, how are you? How was that drive?” Penny asked, stepping back but not completely letting go of Harry, instead holding gently onto his arms.

“I’m fine thank you, the drive was ok, thank you for letting me stay, it’s very kind of you.” Harry implored, and Molly knew for certain, that it wasn’t over exaggerated for her mother’s benefit.

“Oh of course, don’t be silly, you’re more than welcome, you managed to get stubborn Annie to book a doctors appointment,” Penny chuckled, finally turning to look at Molly again. “A bed is the least I can do.” Penny smiled. “You, young lady, have you been eating properly, you look like you’ve lost weight, are you eating?” Penny quizzed, holding Molly now and looking over her face. “Has she been eating?” Penny turned to Harry then.

“Mum.” Jeanie scalded. “Leave them alone they’ve only just walked in the door.” Jeanie pointed out. “She’s ill, of course she looks like death.”

“You lot are just full of compliments, you wonder why I don’t come home.” Molly jested with a smirk, Penny smacking at her arm playfully. “Something smells good, what you cooking?” Molly asked, nodding towards the kitchen and looking back at Harry, indicating for him to follow. It appeared like he’d relaxed, his mouth was soft and his lips slightly parted, curved into a tiny smile of amusement, as his eyes glittered under the low lights of the house.

“We’ve got chicken and leek pie, but you,” Penny started, glancing over her shoulder as she slid into the kitchen on velvet slippers. “Have got chicken soup.” Penny informed her lifting a lid of a large pot and giving the contents a stir.

“Well it smells great.” Molly smiled.

“It really does Mrs Thomson.” Harry grinned, slotting in against the counter beside Molly, as close as he could get without pressing his body to the back of her own.

“Oh no love, none of that, I get enough of that at work, Penny is fine.” Penny grinned, with a sincere little nod which Harry mirrored with a little chuckle.

“Of course.” Harry agreed. Molly felt him settle behind her, his body softening as she turned so her left arm was against his chest for all intents and purposes. Neither of them flinched from it, and if Penny noticed how close they were she didn’t seem to even think to mention it. Instead, she just set about fussing with the food she was cooking, piling plates and a bowl into the bottom of the range oven to warm, and checking the food already inside.

“Now where has that giant of a man gone?” Molly sunk with the slight embarrassment at her dad's words.

“His names Harry dad.” Molly called out.

“Yes, yes, I know, I’m only jesting, no need to blush.” Terry grinned, pinching Molly’s cheeks before handing Harry a glass that matched his own.

“Thanks.” Harry smiled. Terry just nodded before wandering towards Penny and the stove she was flurrying over, winding a comforting arm around her waist. Molly barely noticed what her parents were doing though, far more concerned with how Harry lifted the glass to his mouth and tipped his head back to let the amber coloured liquid touch his lips. It didn’t seem like his lips even parted to let the drink in, but when he lowered the glass again, he licked the residue the whiskey had left behind and offered Molly a smile which she returned. There was no way to put her finger on it, no way she could really be sure, but it felt like there was a window there Harry was purposefully planning on keeping firmly shut.

Mere minutes later Penny was hustling everyone out of the kitchen to the dining room, calling out to Jeanie that dinner was ready and she was to get herself up the table. The dining room was already set up, each place laid with polished cutlery and patterned china that Penny had bought in from the warm oven. A candle was burning on the cabinet behind the table, a light floral scent filling the room that Molly was familiar with.

“Here.” Molly offered, pulling the seat out next to her own for Harry who followed her dad into the room, both of them with a tumbler of whiskey in their hands. Harry smiled happily and took the seat Molly offered, next to her and opposite Jeanie who had bumbled into the dining room still in her blanket.

“It’s not that cold Jean, take that ratty thing off at the table.” Terry scalded, tugging at the worn blanket Jeanie didn’t go anywhere without.

“Dad, I’m cold, just because you’ve got some extra winter insulation doesn’t mean the rest of us have.” Jeanie explained as Terry took his usual seat at the head of the table.

“Don’t have daughters Harry, they wear the colour out of you,” Terry instructed pointing at his once fiery red hair that was now dark grey and thinning. “And turn you to drink.” Terry chuckled patting at his slightly rounding belly and lifting his glass.

“And men just drive you insane.” Penny responded carrying in the pie and placing it in the middle of the table.

“Wow Pen, that looks wonderful.” Terry exclaimed leaning over the table a little to get a better look at the pie that appeared it could feed an army, practically licking his lips. “Great work darling.” Penny just smiled as she appeared again with bowls of vegetables. “Soup for you I hear.”

“Try not to be jealous.” Molly groaned sarcastically, eyeing up the buttery, golden pastry that topped the pie, earning a few chuckles.

“Just think of how much it would hurt your throat.” Harry tried, offering a sympathetic smile, eyes catching as Molly turned to his voice.

“It would be worth it.” Molly lamented pouting a little and getting a little laugh from Harry.

“So what is it you do Harry? Are you at uni too?” Terry asked, reaching for a serving spoon to start dishing himself up vegetables.

“Oh no I’m erm, I’m…” Molly could see Harry was a little stuck for words. Maybe he was worried how her parents would take the age difference, as if it made any odds to their situation, though Molly supposed she could understand being interrogated by her father would make anyone feel a little hot under the collar. Perhaps more so as it became clearer the sort of territory they were heading towards.

“Harry’s twenty five dad, he’s a carpenter, he’s self employed.”

“Oh good for you, need more youngsters getting into trades, dying arts most of them.” Terry announced honestly. “You’ll never be out of work that’s for sure, did you always want to be a carpenter?” Terry quizzed. Molly could feel Harry was getting tense, she knew it wasn’t necessarily her dad’s fault, but Harry was a closed book at the best of times, let alone at a table of strangers. Without thinking Molly reached out under the table and found Harry’s hand, playing with the frayed hem of his hoodie, threads twisting tightly around his fingers. Harry didn’t flinch and let his hand go limp as she slid her fingers between his.

“Dad, leave him alone.” Molly implored. “He’s just driven me two hours here, he doesn’t need interrogating, eat your pie.” Molly insisted once again as Penny appeared with her bowl of soup, placing it down in front of Molly. Honestly it looked delicious and just what her sore throat and lack of appetite needed. If there wasn’t a wholesome chicken pie set before her it would have been even better. The rest of her family went about serving their dinner, Penny picking up Harry’s plate first and carving him a large slice of pie, piling vegetables on too before putting the plate back down and passing him the gravy.

“So you’re obviously not from down this way Harry?” Penny asked quietly before placing another piece of potato in her mouth and chewing delicately on it, just like the lady she’d been brought up to be. Molly could never believe her grandparents had been so strict on her mother and aunties, but when she saw how proper her mum was, without fault, regardless of the company, she supposed it rang true.

“Mum-” Molly tried to chime in, but Harry just moved his leg to rest against hers. Before it had been a reminder he was there next to her as his friends interrogated her over breakfast, now it felt like he was telling it was ok.

“No,” Harry started, putting his cutlery down to take a sip of his drink, though once again it didn’t actually seem that his lips parted to let any whiskey in, the liquid just touching his lips so he could lick it away. “My family are from up north originally, moved down here when I was little.” Harry explained and Penny nodded. Molly was on tenterhooks, the last thing she wanted was for her family to start asking questions about his. It was bad enough putting her own foot in it, seeing the sadness in Harry’s eyes despite how much he assured he was ok, and it was fine. Watching him do it all over again for her parents sake didn’t bare thinking about. “Lolly says this house has been in the family for a long time?”

“Lolly!?” Jeanie all but cried. Molly’s eyes went wide and she snapped her head to Harry who’s facial appearance mirrored hers, staring across the table at Molly’s sister, who was reading entirely confused. “Why Lolly?” Jeanie giggled looking between Molly and Harry quickly.

“When he asked my name he misheard me and thought I said Lolly and it’s stuck, ok?”

“Well that’s just adorable.” Penny announced sweetly, eyes soft and a little, assuming smile on her face.

“Have you not got enough names?” Jeanie laughed.

“Have you not learned when to shut up?”

“Girls!” Penny scalded quickly. “Jean, leave your sister alone, Cecelia, don’t be rude, we’ve got guests.”

“I’ve got-”

“Cecelia Molly Thomson, do not think you are too old to be sent to your room, be quiet and eat your food.” Penny warned stabbing a finger in Molly’s direction. Molly simply rolled her eyes and filled her spoon with more soup, sending daggers across the table to her sister.

“I’m too old though right mum?”

“No, and you don’t act it either.” Penny told Jeanie without even looking at her, instead just cutting up another piece of pie and stabbing her fork into it. “So the house…” Penny started again, as if there had been no intermission between Harry’s question and the beginning of her answer.

Harry listened intently as Penny and Terry gave him the history of the house, cutting over one another with amendments and corrections that Molly could see they were trying not to bicker about as she enjoyed her soup. It was a story Molly and Jeanie had heard plenty of times, the first time as children when they’d been thrilled by the idea of the old families that haunted the corridors that they hid in away from their cousins, giggling, hearts pounding, fear of the little girl ghost that haunted the attic room. It had gotten a lot more serious the older they got, less little girl ghosts and more decaying walls and rotting beams that were left for her parents to deal with. Luckily Harry knew what he was talking about and the conversation wasn’t just her parents discussing it whilst Molly and Jeanie nodded like they had a clue. Harry even gave advice, suggestions, tips. It seemed, as far as Terry and Penny were concerned, their daughters may as well not have been there.

Molly didn’t mind. The soup she was taking slowly was soothing her throat, the warmth of it tackling the near constant tickle at the back of it that had kept her awake all night coughing. Apart from that, the more they talked about the house, the less likely they were to get back onto Harry’s family, or why her mother was so impressed that Harry had managed to get her to book a doctors appointment. Molly wasn’t entirely which she’d rather, though really she knew she’d rather throw herself under the bus than have to see that heartbreak in Harry’s eyes again. That was most definitely worse than coming clean about her deeply buried almost fear, or just anxiety, or maybe even simply discomfort, over visiting the doctors.

“Cecelia, you need to eat, you’ll never get better if you don’t feed yourself.” Penny announced suddenly as Molly rested her spoon onto the plate that carried her bowl and relaxed back in her chair.

“Been telling her that.” Harry added cockily, glancing to Molly out of the side of her eye. Molly just sighed loudly and flared her nostrils in Harry’s direction.

“So you haven’t been eating?” Penny quizzed with widened eyes that matched Molly’s exactly, her slim arms folding across her chest, as she glared down the table at her daughter like she knew better.

“Yes mum-”

“Soup.” Harry cut in before Molly could finish. Molly twisted her head to him, setting her jaw out of line and running her tongue along her top set of teeth. Despite the displeased look on Molly’s face, Harry didn’t seem affected at all, he just stared back at her, frustratingly self-assured with slightly pouted lips and lifted eyebrows though his eyes seemed to remain heavy lidded.

“Out of a tin I suppose?” Penny sneered.

“No actually, Harry’s homemade soup.” Molly clapped back wobbling her head a little and not able to fight the smirk that pulled at one corner of her lip as she turned her eyes from Harry to her mother. Molly watched her mother brighten as the information sunk in, eyes flicking to Harry gleefully, who was still staring back at Molly at the smug look on her face.

“Oh, Harry you cook?” Penny gushed a bright smile changing her face entirely from the stern, accusatory mother she’d been two seconds previous.

“A bit.” Harry almost mumbled, shrugging a little.

“He’s being modest, he’s a good cook.” Molly announced, eyes on Harry, watching his normally stoic presence melt a little as the golden hue of the apples of his cheeks began to pink. It didn’t happen very often, in fact Molly could count on one hand all the time she’d seen Harry blush. It reminded her he was human despite the perfect, otherworldly demeanour he carried so well, and it made her soft when he dropped his eyes just a touch and flicked the end of his tongue out over his lips, swallowing on nothing.

“Oh wonderful.” Penny all but clapped with glee.

“So where did you find him, mr perfect factory?” Jeanie piped up from across the table sarcastically. It was Molly’s turn to blush then, and she saw it was happening quicker and far more furiously than it had on Harry’s cheeks.

“Jean!” Penny snapped a little shrilly.

“What?” Jeanie rebuke. “Cooks, builds, gets Cece to the doctors.” Jeanie listed without faltering, eyes on her sister the whole while.

“Is everyone finished?” Molly asked standing quickly and collecting hers and Harry’s empty plates together. “I’ll clear.” She added, reaching over for her dad’s empty plate, not waiting to find out if he wanted seconds, the blush on her cheeks only getting redder the longer she was in the dining room.

“I’ll give you a hand.” Jeanie announced, pushing her chair out with Molly and beginning to collect the rest of the empty plates together with an amused grin on her face.

“Do you want a hand?” Harry offered looking up to her as she shimmied around their chairs.

“No don’t be silly, you stay here.” Molly smiled down at him, hoping he couldn’t, but knowing he could, see the blush on her cheeks. As Molly left the dining room, arms full with plates and bowls, she could hear Jeanie giggling behind her, hot on her heels.

“Have you got him wrapped around your little finger or what?” Jeanie laughed lowering her plates onto the countertop where Molly had left her own. “Is there anything he won’t do for you?” She questioned, rolling up her sleeves to begin rinsing off the dirty plates for the dishwasher.

“Stop it.” Molly warned, opening the dishwasher, the two sisters moving around one another in their well rehearsed dance of clearing away after dinner, a chore that had been laden upon them once they were tall enough to reach the kitchen sides.

“How long have you been…?” Jeanie trailed off, not quite sure how to word her question, but looking to Molly and grinning impishly, winking for good measure. Molly just huffed a sort of laugh and rolled her eyes.

“It’s not like that, we’re friends.” Molly implored with wide eyes before taking a plate from the stack Jeanie was slowly adding to.

“I do not believe you ,” Jeanie laughed.

“Fine don’t, but don’t you think you’d be the first to know if it was something more?” Molly pointed out, and Jeanie couldn’t deny that. It had always been that way, and it worked in reverse too. There was nothing Molly wouldn’t tell her sister about, call her up at stupid hours to cry about, laugh about, moan about. And Molly was sure it didn’t matter what time a call from her sister came through, she’d answer it, and listen, laugh, give advice, reprimand, whatever felt necessary. So the fact Jeanie really thought something might have been going on between Harry and Molly and she didn’t already know was quite ridiculous. Though maybe just evidence of how obvious and consuming their chemistry was.

“Ok fine, but you clearly really like him.” Jeanie pointed out not even flinching.

“Well obviously.” Molly admitted without thinking, and freezing as she did so. The words tumbled out without any consideration, like the answer was as insticative as breathing out after breathing in. It caught her unaware. Of course Molly knew she was developing feelings for him, but she had no idea it had gotten so clear that it came to her so quickly and naturally when asked.

“You ok?” Jeanie asked, taking in her sisters slightly confused and taken back appearance as she turned to help load the dishwasher.

“I really like him Jeanie.” Molly admitted quietly, but still out loud, for the first time, to someone other than her own head. “Fuck, I really like him.” Molly spluttered, blinking rapidly and dropping her arm to her side, the damp plate brushing her leg as it did so. Jeanie just chuckled, and shook her head as she continued to put plates into the rack, pulling the one from Molly’s hand to place in beside the others. It felt different having said it outloud, more real and tangible, like there was no more hiding from the way he made her feel, no more pretending like it couldn’t happen. It was out in the open, staring back at her as clear as day now. It wasn’t just an imagining in her head, like one of her design ideas, or a distracted tangent about what she might have for dinner. It felt like a real physical thing that she had to face, as much as she had to face going to the doctors the next day.

“You didn’t figure that out when he managed to make you get a doctors appointment?” Jeanie laughed, closing the dishwasher with her foot and pressing a few buttons.

“No I knew I liked him, but I didn’t know I…” Molly hesitated because she didn’t know what.

“Oh god, don’t say you didn’t know you love him ‘cause you don-”

“No god no, no, but it’s more than a little crush.” Molly explained. Jeanie nodded and rolled her lips together, tilting her head to the side slightly so a few loose strands of her bright orange hair fell to her shoulder out of the grips that were trying to hold it back. “Feels different.” Again Jeanie just nodded. “Can you say something?” Molly snapped suddenly, a feeling of frustration inside her from nowhere.

“What do you want me to say?” Jeanie practically squealed.

“I don’t know, something supportive, something intelligent and clever.”

“There’s nothing intelligent or clever about falling for a boy that looks like that.” Jeanie scoffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Molly all but spat, brows creasing deeper than they already had been.

“I don’t know him, but he’s a ladies man, you’ll get hurt.”

“Well like you said, you don’t know him.” Molly huffed grabbing a towel and drying her hands. “He’s lovely, he’s sweet, he’s really good to me, too good infact, and like you said he got me to book a doctors appointment so he can’t be that awful.”

“Why you asking me for advice then?” Jeanie asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Because you’re the big sister and I don’t know what to do.” Molly whined, Jeanie laughing with an eye roll.

“Follow your heart, it won’t let you down.” Jeanie smiled softly, reaching out for her sisters arms and holding her gently.

“Do you really think he’s a prick?” Molly asked with a pout.

“No, god no, just wanted to see how you reacted.” Jeanie laughed finally putting her arms around Molly and pulling her into a hug. “You like him, a lot, he likes you, you’ve already got a vibe that’s hard to miss, you look good together, seems to me like the universe sent him into your path for a reason.”

Jeanie mused, and Molly nodded because it wasn’t something that hadn’t already crossed Molly’s mind. It felt a little too much of a coincidence that Harry had waltzed into her life at the exact moment she’d first noticed the break down of her relationship. It felt like fate that she met the exact person she needed at the exact time she needed them, and it wasn’t something she felt comfortable to let slip away without trying. Whatever that turned out to be. “Now go and rescue him from mum and dad before they get him knocking down walls, or replacing doors, or god knows, holding the house up with his bare hands.”

“Yeah.” Molly laughed breathily as Jeanie uncurled her arms from around her and turning to wipe over the sides as Molly headed back to the dining room. As she got closer she could hear the conversation between her parents and Harry, it sounded light, jovial, just general chat. It made her feel fizzy inside, happy, but something a little more than that too. “I was gonna show Harry to his room.” Molly announced standing in the living room doorway.

“Yes of course, I’ve got the bay room ready.” Penny told Molly who nodded and looked to Harry.

“Thank you for dinner, it was lovely.” Harry smiled as he stood from his chair, tucking it back in and walking across to Molly who turned, glancing over her shoulder and leading him towards the staircase. “The bay room? Sounds fancy.” Harry jested, taking the steps two at a time to catch up with Molly. Molly just glanced to him out of the corner of her eye sarcastically. “Aw don’t be annoyed at me Lolly Pop.”

“Nope, no, no way.” Molly enforced quickly, holding her hand up and freezing mid-step, turning to look at Harry who just carried on walking past her giggling to himself. “I’m serious, I am not letting that one slide.”

“Ok Lolly Pop, if you say so, where am I going?” Harry asked, standing on the first floor landing and looking down at the rooms ahead of him.

“Out the front door if you call me that one more time.” Molly warned, carrying on up the stairs to join Harry. “And thanks for taking my mum’s side at dinner.” She grumbled carrying on and nudging Harry as she went to encourage him to do the same.

“Well I want them to like me, gotta get them on side.” Harry told her.

“Why would you need to do that?” Molly laughed, reaching for the door handle for Harry’s room.

“I think we both know the answer.” Harry mumbled, though loud enough for Molly to hear. And she did hear, only it seemed implicit that neither of them would react or take it any further than that, so Molly just slid the door over the thick pile carpet and flicked the light on as she stepped inside and aside for Harry who had his bag over his shoulder. “Ah, bay window, bay room, I get it.” Harry smiled looking around the large bedroom.

“Well make yourself comfortable,” Molly started, watching Harry from behind as he wandered into the room and took it in, placing his bag at the end of the bed. “I’ll erm, I’ll just be, well,” Molly was stumbling over words for a reason she couldn’t quite place. “Fancy watching a movie?” She finally asked.

“Sure.” Harry grinned spinning to face her again. “Shall I meet you downstairs?” Molly swallowed and looked over his face.

“Well, my room, it’s just mum and dad will want the TV, and the other living room hasn’t-”

“Ok your room, I’ll just get changed, where…?” Harry hesitated, not even the tiniest bit abashed by Molly’s vocal clumsiness that kept her tripping over words and thoughts.

“Just two doors that way.” Molly told Harry pointing back towards the stairs. Harry just nodded and Molly smiled before stepping out of the room and pulling the door closed behind her, the smile lingering on her face as she headed for her room.

It was exactly how she’d left it at Christmas. The bed was freshly made with crisp white sheets and her pink cushions and blanket covering them almost entirely. Washed clothes had been left on her bed which she moved to her desk to put away at another time, though grabbed the joggers from the top of the pile and quickly stripped off her jeans to change into them. The jumper she had on was warm from her body heat so she left that on, though unhooked her bra and stuffed it into the underwear drawer in the chest.

The light knock on the door came just in time, as she pushed the drawer shut and turned to the opening door.

“Hey.” Molly breathed, taking in Harry’s much more relaxed appearance. A pair of dark grey jersey shorts were hung low on his hips and a white t-shirt poked out from underneath the black hoodie he was wearing. Earlier his hair had been down, curls wild, but now he had it tied back in a low bun, his hairline fuzzy from where he’d worn a beanie hat earlier that day. There was no way he could have looked more endearing, even his eyes looked softer than normal, and Molly hadn’t thought that possible.

“Hey.” Harry smiled back, pushing the door closed behind him, his eyes remaining locked on Molly. “Sweet room.” He grinned having a quick glance around it.

“Thanks.” Molly chuckled, moving for the DVD shelf beside her TV. “What do you fancy watching?”

“I don’t mind, what you got?” Harry joined her at the DVD’s, standing close enough that his arm pressed against Molly’s for a second before he lifted it to rest it over her shoulders. “Ooo Pretty Woman, haven’t seen that in years.” Harry exclaimed reaching forward for the DVD on the shelf.

“Ok then,” Molly giggled, “Pretty Woman it is.” She agreed, taking the DVD from Harry’s hands and slinking out of his arm to put it on. Out of the corner of her eye Molly saw Harry perch himself on the end of her bed, reclining back on his arms as she turned the TV on and opened the DVD player, waiting patiently for it to do it’s thing, facing away from Harry.

“What’s the deal with you and doctors then?” Harry asked, a confidence in his voice that sounded forced. Molly froze for barely a second, before reaching forward to snatch the controls from the shelf they were on.

“Just bad experiences, not a fan.” Molly mumbled, watching the DVD get started up and adjusting the volume with the controls.

“Something happen?” Harry asked from behind her. Half of Molly had anticipated it coming pup, she didn’t really expect that her family could make as many comments about Harry being able to get her to the doctors and him not ask. The other half hoped he’d think nothing of it, though she knew that was pointless. It seemed Harry took notice of all the details that would slip straight over most people’s heads.

“Not really, well,” Molly thought for a moment, before looking over her shoulder and offering a smile. “No, no not really.” She settled on.

“You sure? Seems like something might have done.” Harry guessed, tilting his head a little to try and catch Molly’s eyes before she turned back. Of course he succeeded, Molly unable to look away when she caught a glance of his eyes looking for her. Molly dropped her arms, shoulders falling before she turned to try and explain to Harry as best she could.

“Just my mum, she…” Molly hesitated, not exactly sure what to say, or at least how to say it. “She forced me to go to the doctors once when I was younger, there was nothing wrong, and no one believed me and it just made everything worse.” Molly told him a little disconnected from the words, navigating around parts she’d rather not say out loud.

“Why’d she force you?” Harry asked, clearly a little confused, clearly because of the way his brows dropped down and he tipped his head to one side, looking up through thick lashes at Molly.

“Same reason you did I suppose.” Molly stabbed without really thinking, and she saw the way it bristles Harry hurtfully. “Sorry I didn’t mean it like that,” She backtracked quickly. “Just, suppose she was worried too at the time, and me saying there was nothing wrong wasn’t good enough.” Molly shrugged, a little regretful, her voice softened. For a moment Harry didn’t say anything, looking over Molly’s face trying gauge his next step and how deep the conversation was rally cutting her.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was forcing you.” Harry promised gently, sitting up a little more, his hands falling into his lap now they weren’t baring his weight.

“No, I know.” Molly offered with a smile. Harry just nodded and sunk down a little with the sigh that puffed out of his nose.

“If you’d have told me I’d have understood.” He told her, honestly.

“Based on previous experience it would have made no difference.” Molly grumbled turning back to the TV and pressing at a few buttons, eyes fixed on the screen.

“That’s not fair Lol.” Harry barely whispered. “I didn’t drive you here for my own piece of mind, I drove you here because you need to see a doctor.” Molly just nodded, keeping quiet and looking down at the controller in her hand, her tongue running along the backs of her teeth. “I don’t know what happened with you and your mum, and you don’t want to tell me, which is fine, I’m not asking you to, but I don’t appreciate being tarnished by the same brush.” There was a bitterness in Harry’s voice that rubbed Molly the wrong way and made her dip her eyebrows slightly, trying to work out of Harry was really saying it the way she heard it.

“My mum did what she did out of concern Harry.” Molly told him sharply, lifting her head to stare at the screen again, though she wasn’t really looking at it.

“What and I didn’t?” Harry laughed, and with that Molly spun on her heel to face him again, glaring down at him from her height advantage.

“No it sounds like you think you did, and she didn’t.” Molly told him, her head tipping from side to side with each word. There was a fire in her eyes that Harry was only vaguely familiar with, and wasn’t entirely sure he knew how to keep at bay.

“How would I know when, as per usual, you’re being all cryptic about it?” Harry returned defensively firing the ball back into her court, realising very quickly that he definitely didn’t know how to keep her fire at bay, only how to fuel it.

“Cause believe it or not Harry, there are some things that I don’t want the world and his wife knowing about if that’s ok with you?” Molly snapped a little sharper, words like little bullets firing past her teeth.

“Fine, but if you’re not gonna tell me, don’t use it against me ok?” Harry barked. Their eyes were fixed on one another, narrowing and widening with each shot.

“Why are you being like this?” Molly quizzed, frustrated.

“Cause I feel like I’m being punished for something I haven’t done.” Harry told her honestly with a slight huff.

“You are pulling my leg aren’t you?” Molly laughed sarcastically “Punished?”

“You’re making it out like I’ve forced you to come here.” Harry retaliated, shooting up to his feet, taking the height dominance away from Molly and looking down at her slightly. She didn’t back away, or shy away and Harry felt himself sink a little as her jaw just tightened.

“You sort of did, I was quite happy getting better-”

“You weren’t getting better though were you, that’s the whole point.” Harry sneered. “Something shit happened in the past and you’re using it against me, again.” He fired, hand flying off to the side of him.

“Again?” Molly shrieked entirely confused. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?” She asked, holding his glare confidently.

“Oh I don’t know, not talking to me cause your shitty ex moved on, refusing to admit you like me because of your shit break up, do you want me to carry on?” Harry listed, jeering slightly. Molly kissed her teeth her tongue hanging from her canine, staring up at him as if waiting for him to come down from the perch he’d put himself on. Moments of inflamed silence passed by, but Harry didn’t say another word, just looked down at Molly, pulsing his jaw and shooting warm breath out of his nose.

“Get out.” Molly hissed, face like stone.

“No.” Harry told her adamantly.

“Harry get out of my room, you’re being bang out of order.” Molly said, her face flushing as her teeth bared a little.

“Loll-”

“Get out of my room!” Molly shouted, fire burning through her that made her want to cry and scream all at once.

“I’d rather stay and talk about this.” The calmness of Harry’s tone only aggravated her more. The tone of her voice, the look in her eye, her inability to keep her cool seemed to be having no effect on him. The only thing that seemed to get under his skin was the feeling he got at the thought of upsetting her, only amplified by the frustration that she wouldn’t open up to him.

“But Harry you’re just twisting my words, if you’d just accepted what I was saying in the first place instead of making it a comment about you it would have been done and we’d be watching the movie by now.” Molly pointed out, a sigh hidden in her tone.

“I’m not sure I’m the one who made this about me.” Harry pointed out, a condescending look on his face that matched the tone of his voice. Of course it grated Molly, it slithered up her spine and made her twist her neck.

“Well of course it’s my fault, always my fault, my fault we had to drive all the way here, my fault-”

“Lolly-”

“MY fault,” Molly shouted over him. “I’ve got no appetite, my fault I don’t want to go to the doctors, my fault the bitches at school said I looked like a little boy, my fault no one listens to a fucking word I say.” She fired the words out in quick succession, each one ricocheting through the air and around Harry’s head until he got the message.

“Talk to me then.” He growled back. “It was coming across like you were just being stubborn about going to the doctors, I can’t read your mind, fuck I wish I could, but I can’t.” He pointed out, fists clenching, toying with the idea of stepping closer, taking her face in his hands and letting everything spill out, but deciding now wasn’t the time and instead rolling his fingers into his palms and pinching his lips together between his teeth, wishing Molly could read his mind too.

“I am just being stubborn, that’s exactly it, I said I was fine, you wouldn’t accept it, and that’s exactly what happened with mum, it’s like no one actually listens to what I’m saying, no one believes when I say I’m fine.” Molly told him, words spilling out of her the way they did when she got fired up, when she got passionate about something. “It’s so infuriating, sweet little Molly can’t possibly know what she’s talking about, best drag her along to the doctors to be on the safe side.”

“You know that’s not what I think.” Harry told her, and maybe she did, but the similarities between the situations were still a little hard to ignore from Molly’s point of view. Silence again, for a few moments, and so Harry took his chance. “And I didn’t drag you here, I drove you here.” Harry pointed out with a bitten back smile. Once again Molly ran her tongue along her top teeth and her nostrils flinched, but it didn’t stop the corners of her mouth curling up.

“Stop trying to make me laugh, I’m annoyed at you.” Molly grumbled making Harry chuckle lightly.

“I’m sorry I annoyed you, and I’m sorry I pushed you on it, I would have understood if you’d told me though, you know that really don’t you?” Harry asked cautiously, hoping she did. Thankfully Molly nodded and Harry took a step closer. “And it’s not that I don’t believe you and I’m not listening to you, it’s just, you nearly passed out in my bathroom, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I hadn’t put my foot down and you end up getting really sick.” Harry told her softly, reaching forward and tucking the front of her hair back behind her ear softly, his hand lingering over the side of her face for a few seconds.

“Yeah, ok, I get it.” Molly whispered, nodding. If the roles were reversed she supposed she’d have been as concerned, and insistent he get himself checked out.

“Sure?” Harry checked, his hand sliding down her arm and wrapping around her wrist to encourage her closer as she nodded with a discreet smile. “Still wanna watch a movie together?” Harry asked with wide hopeful eyes. Again Molly nodded and happily let Harry wrap an arm around her, her own arms sliding around his middle as her head rested on his chest. The kiss he left on her head lingered, soft and almost like a whisper, before they separated and crawled up onto the bed, both a little more sure they hated arguing but it forced words out of them, and thoughts, and feelings, that might not have surfaced otherwise.

Before any of you shout at me, technically there’s a kiss! I hope you enjoy this one, I really like it I feel like there’s a lot of big steps in this one, but I’d love to know what you think so be sure to drop me a message with your thoughts and theories.

So I’m away next week on holiday, the extra for this one will go up Sunday instead of Wednesday and there won’t be an update next week. Sorry I know that feels like ages but I’ll have no access to my laptop to put a chapter up. I’ll be on my phone to answer any messages though and hopefully the extra will make up for it, and what’s coming for you all in the next one.

Have a good weekend, and enjoy, I x

#dive #talk to me #i want your thoughts #and theories #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry fic #1dff #harry styles au #harry fluff

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sultrysirens · 6 years ago

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Please just go off and rant about your OCs! I just love them all so much (even the ones that haven’t been introduced yet) and want to hear more about them!

I hope you’re prepared for what you’ve just unleashed~!!

JOCELYN was the start of this avalanche. When I first conjured her up, I had just a few points in mind: I wanted her to be colored (though I hadn’t decided yet what her ethnicity would actually be), I wanted her to be a ballerina, and I wanted her to not be drop-dead fucking gorgeous.

One of these things did not hold up. X’D

My original intent was to just make a short story -- 10 chapters or so -- in which she gets with Raphael and they bang. That was the literal long and short of it, which you can kind of see considering how rushed the first few chapters were.

I didn’t mean for them to get so into each other and fall in love. They did that entirely on their own. And, to be honest, it’s been an amazing experience; I’ve learned a great deal and feel like my creativity has gone through the roof.

Considering I’ve always been crazily creative anyway, that’s saying something.

Initially I picked Raph for this story because I thought (in my ignorance) that he would have the least amount of love and sex-related stories. Oh, how foolish I was, lol. But I was also thinking he would be the easiest to write just falling into bed with someone, and while that is something I commonly see, in my story he very much did not do that.

It was really weird. X’D

While I was writing The Dancer, I was also writing a then-untitled sister fic/epilogue (which I later titled The Dragon). It was quite a few years down the line, so I went ahead and conjured up some future scenes and events. Among them: Lisa.

This fic started in Mikey’s POV for a few reasons, one of them being that I really wanted to write something from his perspective. Lisa was introduced to my story this way, and I quickly took a liking to her and started development on her character. One of the things I did first was write pieces of the first chapter of The DJ, just to get the start’s setting down.

Then all I had to do was get The Dancer to a point where I could connect the two. At the time I was only around chapter 20, so...yeah, it took a while. XD

With Jocelyn, one of the key decisions I made was to make her very unlike Raphael -- she’s flirty, often relaxed, has an incredible love for ballet, has almost no family (just a mother; no dad, no siblings), and has such a crazy obsession over shoes that she literally picks out what shoes she wants to wear before picking her clothing for the day.

With Lisa, I went in the opposite direction: be just like Mikey. She has low intelligence and knows it, yet is brilliant in an unconventional way; her sense of humor is one of her biggest traits and she laughs to defuse situations and deal with problems; her genre is 100% hip hop in nearly all ways; and I made her athletic pretty much entirely so she’d be able to keep up with the master of movement, Mikey. (Say that five times, fast.)

It wasn’t until after I really got into writing Lisa that I noticed something interesting about my two fics: the couples both view each other in the same light.

Jocelyn and Raphael think one another is sexy and bad-ass.

Lisa and Mikey think one another is cool and cute.

This is, of course, not the rule -- Raph has thought Jo is super cute before, and Mikey finds Lisa sexy as hell, too -- but it is their primary mindsets. And it makes me wonder if my remaining two couples will have the same kind of viewpoints. I can’t say for sure yet because I haven’t gotten to the part in either story where they’re actually dating, but it’s fun to consider.

Then again, maybe for Leo and Donnie’s relationships they’ll have opposite viewpoints as their lovers do. It would definitely be an interesting twist.

Progress with The Dragon is going very slowly, which is understandable given I still have a lot of world-building in The DJ to do first, but I do very much love the story. In fact, so far if I were to rank my fics based on my own favorites, it would go Dancer > Dragon > DJ (I have literally nothing written on the final fic yet cause I still haven’t even finished designing the final girl, lol).

As much as I love Lisa (and I freaking do holy shit), I just don’t quite love her the best. This is actually kind of weird considering just how close to being a self-insert she is -- an unintentional self-insert, yes, but the parallels are definitely there.

For example, Lisa is a white girl of mixed white heritage (like me) with a particular pair of beauty marks on her face (same as me, just in different places), she has brunette hair (like me) and blue eyes (mine are actually green, but my parents’ and brother’s eyes are blue and I’ve always been jealous of that), she’s a huge gamer (just like me; she’s just better at competitive games), she dislikes swearing (I swear a lot now, but at her age I was much more sensitive about it), she has an older brother (I technically have two, but one’s very distant and the other was always close), she has a distaste for meat (I’m not vegetarian but as a whole I dislike meat) and some serious compassion for life (same), she loves piercings (I’d have more but I’m seriously forgetful), and she has incredible ears for music (can name almost any song within seconds -- just like me).

Oh yeah, and she’s a Mikey girl. ♥

And more pointedly, I named her mother after my sister (deceased) and her grandparents after my paternal grandfather and maternal grandmother.

I named Jocelyn based on the character of the same name from A Knight’s Tale (it just occurred to me that they have the same tits lmfao); after seeing the movie I kind of became enraptured with this character and her smart tongue and haughty attitude and incredible elegance -- not to mention I freaking loved her name.

Lisa, by comparison, I named based on one thing: the Mona Lisa. Yeah, that’s right, y’all -- I named her after a famous painting by an Italian Renaissance painter. Hurr hurr. XP But though I never mentioned this, Lisa’s mother, Brandy, cites that she named her ‘Lisa’ based on The Simpsons, as Lisa was Brandy’s favorite character.

This cute, incredibly good-hearted and brilliant young girl? Yeah, Brandy loves that character and was hoping Lisa would take after her.

Hmmm, what else...

Well, I had a completely different story set up for Cecilia at first. I’m honestly really glad things didn’t go the way I’d planned, and here’s why: Cecilia was supposed to catch a glimpse of Jo and Raph having sex one day (before meeting him) and go kind of nutso.

You see, at first she claimed diabetes but was not diabetic -- she was doing cocaine, and saying she had diabetes was her explanation for when Jo would catch her shooting up. And with the cocaine in her system, Cecilia’s mind went right to demons and witchcraft.

Terrified for her daughter’s immortal soul, the original plan was for Cecilia to attempt to burn them both to death. To everyone’s surprise, however, Jocelyn didn’t burn -- only Cecilia.

This was the original way Jo discovered she’d been taking on Raph’s mutagen. It’d made her fireproof.

As you can see, I’m super glad I didn’t stick to that, lol.

As for Lisa, me making her a cutter was a spur-of-the-moment decision during that scene where she examines her reflection in her undies. The boob thing, though? That was planned from day one -- because I wanted her to very much be Jo’s opposite, and this included general color palette, skills, likes, personality, and body type.

Jo: tall and willowy, grace incarnate, dark skin and blonde hair, super thick lips, generally thin but with a killer ass, rounded face, freckled, minimal piercings, crazy flirty and confident to no end.

Lisa: barely taller than average, kind of stocky and curvy, shapely lips, wide hips and heavy tits, shapely lips and face, zero freckles, tons of piercings, jittery and mousy but also immature and raucous.

By comparison, so far Mei and Pinky are just people. (Note: Mei’s faceclaim so far is Lucy Lui, but Pinky doesn’t have one just yet.) Mei’s also skinny, but that’s cause she’s 100% Chinese and as far as I can tell that’s just how they are. I’ve done a lot of googling and pretty much all young people I’ve found that way are, in a word, skinny. X’D

I’m leaning towards Pinky being the shortest of the girls, maybe in the 5′1″-5′3″ range, but I’m worried about making her too short. The concept is still very much up in the air, lol. This is also the character I once said I was considering being half Puerto Rican, and while I still like that I’m not sure it’ll stick. It might be more fun to make her like Indian or something.

We’ll see. (I’m very much open to suggestion about her, btw, if anyone has any thoughts...and I know it’s not much to go on yet but there’s a reason for that.)

And then there’s Cassie. My redheaded best friend of my best girl, Jo. I really don’t have much to say about her; I introduced her almost entirely to expand the world a bit and give Jocelyn more ties -- a girl like her would damn well have ties, y’know.

I don’t know what it is, but I have a really hard time writing her. She feels very bland, and while that was kind of the intent, it makes it really hard to get a feel for her. Only a few things remain strong when it comes to her: she’s kinda weirded out by the turtles, she supports Jocelyn completely, and she’s just as much of a ballet-enthusiast.

These girls have been friends for almost their literal entire lives. And I think part of the reason why I wrote them like this was out of jealousy -- I’ve never had that kind of a friendship. The oldest friend I can recall was Jenny, when I was five, and she was a BITCH.

I only have two memories of her anymore: 1, she used to invent games for us to play then change the rules on a dime so she’d always be the winner, and 2, I once tried to leave her home and she slammed the door on my fingers.

I sincerely hope she grew out of that, man.

Suffice to say we were not friends for very long. And since then I’ve seen a constant pattern: I can’t keep friends for longer than a few years, and not because I don’t want to.

Because something always happens. They move, I move, someone’s interests shift, we lose contact, a misunderstanding occurs, etc.

I wanted Jocelyn to have something better than a constantly-shifting sea of semi-friends. I wanted her to have best friends, and then THE best friend -- the one who will remain her best friend for the entirety of her life. The one who was there through all the biggest troubles and best celebrations, the one who will be there for all of the troubles and celebrations to come, and the one who knows her better than anyone else ever has (at least until a certain mutant comes into her life).

Lisa, on the other hand, is...me.

Her friendships flagged, drifted, dissolved, changed, and so on. The only constants in her life have been her family. And even then a good portion of her family has never been there, a fact that hurts her whenever she pauses to think about it.

She hurts, she yearns, and there are times she feels completely alone, even in a full room. She’s constantly scared no one understands her or cares about her, and she gets through this by laughing -- at others, at herself, at that one missing piece of the jigsaw puzzle that makes it kind of look like a penis, and so on.

Lisa has always had the support of her family while needing true understanding and affection. Jo has always had affection and the understanding of her closest friend while needing support.

It’s amazing to think about. And while there’s a lot here that I never put into my fics, these are threads and pieces of my characters that have either always been there in the background or have developed as I wrote them. Maybe I never said Lisa was terrified of being alone, but it was in my mind every time I wrote her.

And I just want to take this moment to thank Anon for giving me this opportunity; I’ve always wanted to rant about my girls but never thought anyone would care, so what was the point, y’know?

Thank you, babe. ;)

#sfw #the dancer #the dj #the dragon #characters #oc #original #lisa #jocelyn #mei #pinky #long #super long #long long long post #rant #character development #Anonymous #siren nightshade #ask

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