#cause I have a fuckin Spanish last name. I have told them yeah both my parents speak Spanish

[crowcryptid]

It would never happen but when I eventually get out of this job I would LOVE TO drop this:

Antes de irme, quiero que sepas que entendí todo lo que dijiste. (Before I go, I want you to know that I understood everything you said.)

And then walk out the door. Never to be seen again.

[peakyblindersxx]

can you hold your liquor? - tommy shelby x reader

a/n: yes that's right 2 fics in one night!! this one right here is for my tommy bitches it is very steamy and the reader is a badass bitch ok hope you guys like it :)

prompt: you're a businesswoman and tommy needs a favor.

warnings: nsfw!! smut, choking, daddy kink, slight degredation, you and tommy being assholes to eachother

“Fuck off, Shelby,” was the first thing that left your red-stained lips as Tommy Shelby entered your office, looking like a vision, much to your chagrin, in a dark grey three-piece suit with a white striped shirt underneath. You were well aware of the Shelbys, as one of the only female businesswomen in Birmingham, and on occasion, had had drinks with both Ada Shelby and Polly Gray. You were around the same age as Ada, and you called her every so often to chat. From those conversations, you concluded that Tommy, despite his devastatingly handsome exterior, was nothing but trouble.

Tommy chuckled at your outburst, puffing from his cigarette as he poured himself a glass of whiskey from your bar cart. “I see my sister has told you about me, then.”

You scoffed, taking a large sip from your gin and tonic. “What do you want from me, Tommy. I run a fucking bread factory. Only reason they even let me is ‘cause girls can work here. God forbid they’d let a woman tell a man what to do,” you snapped, crossing one leg over another as you took a drag from your cigarette. You were glad that you wore one of your shortest dresses today; a dark red silk number that played well against black tights and a pair of black 3 inch heels, the tallest you owned. A small, but noticeable pair of silver earrings dangled from your ears.

Tommy’s unmistakable blue eyes locked with yours as he puffed at this cigarette, taking a seat across from you. “I need a favor.”

You almost choked on your laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” You gulped down the rest of your drink and stood to get another, hips swaying as you felt Tommy’s eyes on you. As much as you didn’t want anything to do with him, some part of you still wanted him to want you. You made your drink and sat back down, fingers tapping your crystal glass as you took another drag from your cigarette. “What is it?”

Tommy cleared his throat, lowering his voice and leaning in closer. As much as you hated to admit it, his cologne was turning you on. “I have 7 tons of opium I need to get to Glasgow. I happen to know that your bread factory does shipments to Glasgow, eh? Through the canals,” Tommy said, gesturing with his arm.

You took a drink. “Yes, and?”

Tommy groaned. “Fuck, woman! I need you to hide the goddamn opium under your fucking bread,” he whispered through gritted teeth.

You took a long drag off of your cigarette. “And what would I get?”

“20,000 pounds,” Tommy said, leaning back in his chair. “But you’ll need to come with. It’s a two day trip and I don’t trust your employees. Just you, me, and my men driving the barges, eh?”

“Fuck,” you exhaled smoke, weighing your options. Who were you kidding? You had to say yes. With that kind of money, you could buy four more factories. “When do we leave?”

Tommy grinned, knowing that you had a deal. “Tonight.”

“I’ll have something written up and I’ll need your signature,” You retorted.

“That’s fine,” Tommy said, standing and shooting the rest of his whiskey. “I’ll pick you up at 9, yeah?”

“You don’t even have my address, Tommy,” You replied, sipping from your glass.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Tommy grinned, opening the door. “I’ll find you,” he called, shutting the door behind him.

“Fuck me,” You exhaled.

***

You hadn’t been on a boat in ages, not since you were little. Most of your family had died or moved away when you were young, so you didn’t have many people to take you to do things like that. You had been born in poverty, but had worked your ass off to be able to get where you were. You were new to fancy things in that you didn’t find a need for most of them. Of course you indulged in small luxuries, like the newest Chanel pantsuit or silk underwear. You were an owner of an entire company, after all.

You didn’t want to wear a skirt, so you slipped on a pair of black trousers and a plain black blouse over a simple pair of black cotton underwear with a black bra. You put on a pair of lace up leather booties in addition to a tiny pair of gold hoop earrings and a few gold chain necklaces. You heard the doorbell ring, and your maid entered your room shortly, letting you know that a Mr. Shelby was downstairs.

You made your way down your spiral staircase where Tommy was waiting, glancing at his pocket watch before putting it into his pocket and looking up at you. “The driver put your bag in the trunk already,” he said before opening the door for you. He walked you to the car, ushering you through as the driver opened the car door for you while he went to the other side, sliding in next to you on the black leather interior of the Bentley. He smelled like cologne and cigarettes, and it was making your head spin. Something about him was irresistible, but you refused to give in.

The car ride was a short one, the three of you arriving at the canals quickly. The driver retrieved yours and Tommy’s bags from the trunk, driving off after speaking quietly with Tommy. An Irish man on one of the boats tipped his hat to you, grabbing the bags. “That’s Packy Lee,” Tommy said, stepping onto the barge and holding out his hand for you to take while stepping down. “He’s a good man.” You begrudgingly accepted it, stepping down onto the boat.

Tommy led you into the cargo hold, which was dimly lit by a few gas lanterns and contained a single makeshift bed. The small open area was surrounded by sacks and sacks of opium. You couldn’t believe the sheer quantity of it. “Me brothers are in the other ones,” Tommy said, sitting on the bed, gesturing towards the other barges that floated behind you in the canal. “And you’re sure they never check?”

“Not the way that my ships go,” you responded, slumping down a foot away from him. “I’ve never had a problem getting stuff through here, if you understand what I’m saying.” Tommy nodded as he lit a cigarette, puffing from it. He sighed, leaning back against the sacks and producing a bottle of whiskey, popping the cork and taking a swig. He extended his arm, offering the bottle to you, and you accepted, wincing slightly as the dark liquid hit your throat. You took a second swig anyways, your intentions impure. You were in the cargo hold of a boat surrounded by opium with Tommy fucking Shelby, of all people. Tommy abandoned his suit jacket, draping it over the top of the sacks, his sleeve garter chains glinting in the lamp light as he rolled up his sleeves. Getting drunk was a bad idea, but it was too late for that now. You took one last drink for good measure, passing the bottle back to Tommy.

“Can ‘ya hold your liquor?” Tommy’s voice echoed off of the curved wooden walls as you almost choked on your drink.

“Can I hold my liquor. Tommy Shelby, I’ll have you know I’ve been drinking since I was fucking thirteen,” you snarked. “I see why Ada likes you so much. You’re a lot like her,” Tommy chuckled, taking a long drink from the bottle and passing it back to you. You took another swig, starting to feel a little tipsy.

“What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?” The question left your lips before you could stop it. Thankfully, Tommy grinned. “God, to be honest? The first fuck I ever had when I got back from France. Purely because it had been so goddamn long,” he laughed, accepting the bottle and taking another drink. His ice blue eyes met yours. “What about you?”

You blushed a little, feeling slightly shy, but the alcohol got the better of you. “Probably this Spanish guy, what the fuck was his name - Raul or something. God, he was good.”

“I bet I could fuck you better,” Tommy grinned, passing you back the bottle. Your jaw dropped slightly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Tommy replied as you took another long drink. “I bet I could fuck you better than what’s his name.”

“Raul.”

“Yeah. Roger.”

You snorted, biting at your bottom lip. “I accept that bet.”

Tommy’s lips were on yours immediately, his hands practically ripping your shirt from your limbs as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip. You rid him of his clothes quickly, flinging them behind you as you ran your hands over his shoulders, kissing him back fiercely. You rolled on top of him, slipping his cock inside your already wet cunt and bouncing up and down causing Tommy to groan.

“You look so fucking pretty riding me, I’m tempted to let you do this all night,” Tommy grunted, his teeth capturing a nipple. “But I promised you something, hm?”

Tommy flipped the two of you over on the bed, ramming his cock inside you at a rough pace as he flung your legs over his shoulder, making your eyes roll back into your head. You couldn’t help but let a moan leave your mouth, causing Tommy to smirk. “You like that, sweetheart?”

“Oh, fuck,” You couldn’t find the energy to form any other words, your head spinning at Tommy’s constant assault on your g spot, sending stars across your vision.

“Look at you, can’t even speak when I’m fucking you this good, can you?” Tommy growled as your pussy squeezed around his dick. “This is what you wanted, from the first thing you said to me, aye? Who knew you’d turn into a pretty little slut for me in bed.”

Your moans grew louder as Tommy fucked you even harder, determined on proving a point. Tommy reached up and wrapped his hand around your neck as you writhed against him, gasping for breath. “You love this, don’t you? I can feel that pretty pussy clenching around my cock.” You could only moan in response, your eyes fluttering back into your head.

“Pretty little thing, fuckin’ made for my cock, aren’t ‘ya? Come on baby, come all over Daddy’s cock, huh?”

“Daddy, fuck,” you moaned, head swimming with lust as you reached your climax.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Tommy crooned, keeping up his insufferable pace as he fucked you through your climax. You couldn't help the sounds coming from your mouth as Tommy thrust harder, groaning.

“God, your pussy’s so wet,” Tommy grunted, hips snapping against yours. “Gonna make me fill you up with my cum, huh?” “Please, Daddy,” was all you could manage. “Please come in me. I want it so fucking badly,” you whined, shocked at the words that were leaving your mouth. Tommy growled, thrusting into you as hard as he could, causing you to cry out, scratching at his shoulders and leaving long red marks. Tommy didn’t seem to care as he took you, letting out a grunt as he finally released inside of you. You felt the stickiness drip down your thighs and you savored the dirtiness of it. Tommy kissed you roughly before slumping down beside you, lighting a cigarette. He took a puff before offering it to you and you accepted, taking a long drag.

“I promise not to tell my sister you call me daddy,” Tommy grinned, letting out a small ‘oof’ when you smacked his chest.

“Fuck you, Shelby,” You laughed, taking another drag from your cigarette as Tommy smiled at you. “We could definitely go again.”

[teddy06writes]

A Day In The Life

requesred by this genius anon: “Aight imma hit you with a good one: Literally everything as platonic, but a day in the life of reader in high school with the minor gang (too my, tubbo, ranboo) and all the faculty at the school are dreamsmp members”

Platonic! Minors gang (tommy, tubbo, ranboo and purpled) x reader

trigger warnings: none

premise: a day in the life of a student at the DSMP public high school 

{with all the shit that goes on the smp there's no way it could be anything but a public school}

{also if I do things slightly off or something its cause my high school is weird, we only have four blocks a day, but I think most have seven, so we’re going with that}

{also the dream/george thing, is based on two of the sciences teachers at my school being suspected of having an affiar}

{Full teacher list:

English: Mr. NotFound

Drama: Mr. Soot

Spanish: Mr. Dream (its mexican dream lol)

Gym: Coach Sapnap and Coach Punz

Home ec: Miss Nihachu

Music: Mr. Quackity

Chemistry: Mr. Halo}

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

Home room: Mr. Callahan

You sighed, trudging toward the school entrance, god it was way to early for this. 

The halls were already crowded with people heading to there home rooms, and Mr. Minecraft, the principal, was standing outside the admin offices, greeting everyone with a smile. 

“Good morning, (y/n).” 

“Good morning Mr. Minecraft.” You grumbled as you passed. 

You hurried through the foyer and up the stairs, toward Mr. Callahan’s room. 

“Hey!” Tubbo called, hurrying down the hallway, “(y/n)!”

“Hey Tubbo.” you yawned.

He fell into step with you, “You think Callahan will actually show today?” 

The one good thing about your home room teacher is that none of the kids ever seemed to have seen him. It meant that some days, while other home rooms had lectures of bullying or something, your class got to hang out for 30 minutes. 

“I don’t think he even exists.” Purpled said, falling in on your other side. 

“He definitely doesn’t.” You agreed. 

~~

History: Mr. Blade

“Hey (y/n)!” Ranboo called from his seat at the front of the room as you came in. 

He was lucky enough to have moved homerooms and ended up getting the same room as his first block. 

“Hello Ranboo.” you sighed, sitting down in your seat next to him. 

Tommy came in and plopped down behind you, “Well you sound like shit.”

“No swearing in my classroom, Tommy.” Mr. Blade chided, hardly looking up from the book on his desk. 

You turned to look at Tommy, “It’s too early for this.” 

“You say that everyday!” He laughed. 

“Yeah! Cause this class starts at 7:45 in the god damn morning!” You half exclaimed. 

“Bloody hell you’d think you’d get used to it-” 

“Tommy, what did I say about swearing?” Mr. Blade cut Tommy off. 

“But you didn’t yell at (y/n)!” Tommy yelled, “That’s not fair Tech!” 

Me. Blade glared at his brother, “Do you want me to send you down to Phil’s office Tommy?” 

“I didn’t even do anything!”

After a moment under Mr. Blades glare, Tommy sighed, “Please don’t send me down to Phil.” 

The teacher didn’t respond, instead standing up and moving to stand in front of the board, queuing up the intro slides for the day, “All right everyone, settle down. Today in our ‘tour of the ancient world’ or whatever, we’re going to start our mini unit on Greece.”

~~

Statistics/Math: Mr. Was Taken

After a class that ended mostly in a rant about the myth of Heracles, you said goodbye to Ranboo and Tommy and met up with Purpled to head to math. 

Mr. Wastaken was already passing out the notes when you two got there, sliding into your seats at the back of the classroom just as the bell rang. 

“You’re late.” He chided, dropping the papers onto your desk, then Purpleds. 

“Purp needed to refill his water bottle.” You explained. 

“Seriously?” Mr. Wastaken questioned, “Dude, it’s second block, why the hell was your water already empty?” 

Purpled shrugged, “P.E?” 

“Ehh, wrong, Sapnap doesn’t have you till sixth period.” 

“Stairs... are murder man.” He fumbled. 

You nodded, “First floor to the fourth floor is tough Mr. Wastaken.” 

Rolling his eyes, the teacher moved back to the front of the room, “Alright, last nights homework was a bit of a flop so we’ll be more review for the quiz tomorrow.” 

You groaned internally, pulling out your pencil. 

Purpled nodded, “I fuckin hate review days.” 

“I can hear you, you know!” Mr. WasTaken half yelled. 

~~

Chemistry: Mr. Halo

After Math you and Purpled headed down to the science hall to meet back up with Tubbo to head to Chem. 

“Welcome back everybody!” Mr. Halo greeted cheerily, “Good to see smiling faces for chemistry!” 

How he managed to stay so upbeat, no one would ever know.

You sat down at your lab table with Tubbo, “You think we actually make it to doing the lab today before he starts talking about Mr. Skeppy again?” 

“Oh no chance.” 

You chuckled, pulling out your notebook as Mr. Halo pulled up the opening review before the lab. 

Twenty minutes later found you elbow deep in the lab, quite literally. 

“It was supposed to just be a small scale elephants toothpaste!” Mr. Halo cried. 

Purpled grinned, “You should’ve taken my wildcard factor into account sir.” 

You laughed, wiping the foam off your apron (thank god for lab aprons), “That was brilliant!” 

A few minutes earlier, Tubbo had helped him do out the math to scale up the experiment by 20%, and you had willingly given up your own materials to help.

Now most of the classroom was covered in the foam, and Purpled and the girl who had been unfortunate enough to be partnered with him were knee deep in it. 

“I sent the video to the groupchat.” Tubbo whispered.

“Good.” You chuckled again. 

Mr. Halo groaned, “You three start cleaning this up, Elizabeth, dear, why don’t you join a different group.”

“I volunteer to switch with her!” Drista yelled, “they look like fun!” 

Mr. Halo sighed, “No- no absolutely not- I can’t deal with you added to the mix.” 

Drista pouted, the rest of the class went back to there work, and you, Tubbo and Purpled began to clean up the foam. 

~~

Drama: Mr. Soot

As Purpled left for his history class, you and tubbo headed twoard the music/performing arts suit, where you met up with Ranboo. 

“Tommy said he wished he could’ve been there to see the foam.” Ranboo reported as Tubbo peeled off into the band room, and you both continued on to the green room. 

“Hello, Hello, Hello!” Mr. Soot greeted in an aussie accent (you know the one). 

“Oh god please say were not doing accents today.” Ranboo muttered. 

Mr. Soot laughed, “Nah, we’re going to do some more rounds of improv.” 

“Oh thank god.” You said as you moved to take a seat at one of the side tables. 

“That would have been hell.” Ranboo agreed. 

More people poured into the room, take seats all around as Mr. Soot began to dig through on of the closets. 

As the bell rang he let out a triumphant cheer, turning around and brandishing a very large bowl of paper slips, “I found the prompts!” 

“Oh dear lord.” Ranboo muttered.

“Mr. Soot can we please do like, anything else?” You asked, “Like scenes, or hell I’d even take monologues, you know we’re all shit at improv!” 

The teacher sighed, “I suppose we could do something else. I guess we can begin our next topic, you’re all going to be assigned scenes and given time to practice them, we’ll present on Friday!” 

The entire class breathed a sigh of relief that you had managed to change his mind. 

~~ English: Mr. NotFound 

After a very chaotic lunch full of Tubbo retelling a bunch of jokes Mr. Quackity had told during music,  you trudged off to the one class that didn’t have any of your main group of friends in. 

The one good thing about having Mr. NotFound as a teacher was that he had no clue what he was doing. 

More often then not you would be left to do essays or read the required books, and then watch the movies that went along with them.

And, just your luck, your English block happened to take place during Mr. Wastaken’s prep period. 

“Right, everyone, today’s a work day, finish up anything you need to for this class, or another, and I’ll put on a movie.” Mr. NotFound said as soon as everyone was seated. 

Ten minutes into the movie the teacher had left, and you pulled up the group chat.

(y/n): Mr. NotFound has yet again suspiciously left during class. 

Purp: sus

Purp: just went by WasTaken’s room

Purp: he’s not there

BooBoy: I saw him down in the science hall ten minutes ago

BeEs: Science hall is oposite to English isn’t it

(y/n): yeah it is

BooBoy: very sus

Purp: I swear their having an affair

BeEs: defintly a lesbian

BeEs: *leassion

BeEs: lesion

BeEs: le-a-zon

BeEs: you know what I mean!

BooBoy: take your time Tubbo

You chuckled quietly, putting your phone down to look back up at the movie on the screen. 

~~

Spanish: Mr. Dream (its mexican dream lol)

“AYYYY kids!”

You groaned as your Spanish teacher burst into the room.

“What is with this guy?” Tommy muttered. 

“ayy man not cool.” Mr. Dream said. 

“Mr. Dream your ten minutes late!” Someone pointed out. 

“SHut up man. And I told you just call me Mexican Dream!” The teacher said. 

You frowned, “That doesn’t make sense, theres no way your first name is ‘mexican’.” 

“Well its not,” He explained, “But its cause I’m the Mexican version of that math teacher!” 

“Why couldn’t I have taken French like Boo and Purp?” Tommy asked the ceiling quietly.

~~ Home ec: Miss Nihachu

The last block of the day was always the best, but not just because school would be over soon. 

There were three main reasons why everyone agreed it was the best. 

1. Miss Nihachu was the nicest teacher in school

2. baking was done often, and everyone always got to take some home

3. it was the one class you, Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo and Purpled all had together. 

Soon your found yourself crowded into one of the tiny kitchen areas with all your friends, as Miss Nihachu gave instructions. 

“Now, if you make a mess you will be cleaning it up! I’m looking at your kitchen a!” She said, half threateningly.

Ranboo pushed away from the group, “I’m not with them I swear!” 

Miss Nihachu rolled her eyes playfully, “Sure your not.” 

Surprisingly, a mess was not fully made. 

Somehow between Tommy wanting to taste the cookie dough at every step from butter to flour, Tubbo trying to add as many chocolate chips as he could, and Purpled all but refusing to move from where he was sitting on the counter, you and Ranboo managed to get the cookies into the oven with no real disasters. 

As you wiped down the empty counter space you sighed, “That wasn’t too bad.” 

“Yeah.” Tubbo agreed. 

Tommy only nodded, still eating the large glob of cookie dough he’d stolen. 

Ten minutes before the bell rang and when everyone was supposed to be finishing cleaning up you sniffed the air suspiciously, “Why do I smell burning?” 

Tubbo took a deep breath, “I smell it too.”

“Oh yeah, something is definitly burning.” Ranboo agreed. 

You whirled to face Purpled, who was absently scrolling through his phone, “Purp you did set a timer right?” 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #403

“ashes to ashes, watch me disappear”

If given the opportunity, would you like to star in a musical? Definitely not. I don't like musicals. Name one person you’d take a bullet for: There's honestly a lot, but Mom immediately came to mind. Any posters of a band on your bedroom wall? Yeah: Metallica and Marilyn Manson currently. I want lots more, especially an Ozzy one. Do you think you’ve already met your soulmate? I don't believe in soulmates. Do you share your bedroom with anyone? No, unless you include my cat and snake. Is your favorite color yellow? No, it's actually one of my least favorites. Were you born in a hospital? I was. Do you know the name of the person that delivered you? No, but Mom does. I think he delivered me and my two sisters, and I know Mom has seen him since for other reasons. Was your birth recorded? God no. Good call, Mom. Did you eat a peach this week? Would you believe me if I told you I had a small bit of peach pie for my sister's birthday? For some reason, I just really wanted to try some. It was okay, but the aftertaste sucked. Are you leaving the house tomorrow? Yes, for TMS therapy. Every weekday. Do you enjoy romantic movies, even when they’re cliche? I honestly do. If you could get free vocal lessons would you take them? Probably not. I don't like singing in front of anyone, and it's not like I wanna get anywhere with my singing, so. Is your mother diabetic? She is. Are you? No. Ever sang someone to sleep? No. Who do you stalk the most through Facebook? Nobody. Have you ever deleted your Facebook, then brought it back? No. What is your main responsibility each day? Be sure to take my medications. Do you feel like you fulfill those responsibilities? Yeah. There are rare mornings where I forget, but I almost always remember. I don't fw skipping out on meds that keep my mental health stable. When was the last time you used spray paint? Good question. Do you know the middle name of the last person you kissed? Yep. Who is the friendliest person you know? My mom, probably. Something that annoys you about summer: THE HEAT. THE HUMIDITY. UGH. Something that annoys you about winter: Hm. That's hard to say, given I love winter. I guess the fact it doesn't snow enough here. Are the doors of your fridge side by side or on top of one another? Side-by-side. If you’ve moved out of the house you were born in, do you know the people who live in that house now? Nope. Have you ever cried in a movie theater? Not sobbed or anything, but I've definitely teared up and gotten the sniffles because of multiple movies. Do you read comic books? No. Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? No. Have you ever seriously pretended to be clinically insane? I didn't need to pretend; I'm pretty damn sure I was for a while. Might I add that it's EXTREMELY inconsiderate to pretend you're insane, btw. Insanity is not "cool." It's not "funny." It's not "edgy." It's a serious, confusing, heart-wrenching issue that can ruin lives. Do you know anyone with a stutter? Yes, myself included when I'm even mildly nervous. And sometimes just randomly. With a lisp? I don't believe so. What was the last board game you played? The Disney version of "Pretty Pretty Princess" w/ my niece and even my nephew, even though his sexist-ass dad didn't want him to. Like let your kid have some fun with his sister and aunt, goddamn. They had a blast. It was Aubree's birthday present from me, so I am SO glad she loved it. Did you win? Ha ha, no, I always let Aubree or Ryder win. I came super close once, but I let the kids bend the rules a bit. They don't like losing, and even though they definitely need to understand that just happens and is totally fine for it to, I wasn't about to be the one to make them sad about it. When was the last time you tried to speak with an accent? OH MY LAAAAAWWWWWWD. Also at Aubree's b-day party, at one point, I spoke in a snobbish British accent while I was winning at the aforementioned game. Ryder asked, "Why are you speaking Spanish?", and I fuckin DIED. Have you ever made up a word before? Yeah, I know at least a few instances for fantasy animals in writing. When was the last time you went to a museum? A couple summers ago when my brother and his son visited, we went to a science museum. My nephew was sooooo into it. Do you have a nice yard? If so, do you spend a lot of time outside in it? If not, where do you go when you want to relax outdoors on nice days? Our front and back yards are both small and honestly very boring. The grass is a pretty green, but that's the only nice thing about it. I don't go to sit outside here on any day. Do your parents enjoy any of the things that you enjoy? Do you bond over these things? My parents and I have very similar music tastes, so there's that. I also didn't know for the longest time that Mom likes to write, which I sure as hell do, too! She doesn't really write anymore though, and she's self-conscious of it anyway, like I am. She and I also love a lot of the same shows. What is the movie that you have waited the longest for/which film do you remember anticipating the most/are still anticipating? I think The Incredibles 2. I aaaalways wanted to know what happened after the end of the first film. Do you have any ideas for a story or movie you’re planning to write or you’d write if you had the time/had the talent? Please share a synopsis! I genuinely think some RP I've written is series-worthy, but I don't feel like re-writing the YEARS of RP into a book format, and I sincerely worry that the ridiculously dark parts could inspire people like serial killers and cause A LOT of controversy, crime-blaming, and just general hate. I don't want to be involved in that. What is something that an interested guy/girl could comment about you, that would make you instantly open to them (e.g., “That book you’re reading is from my favorite author”)? Compliment my Markiplier tattoo, obviously knowing it's a tribute to him, and we're essentially besties. Is there a person in your life (maybe barely) that you feel in constant competition with (even just in your imagination)? Maybe you feel they are consistently outshining you? Ugh... there's a local photographer that's much more successful than I am that I admittedly am very envious of. I swear to whatever god you may believe in that I mean it from a modest perspective, I really, really do, but I genuinely think my skills surpasses hers, and she's only more prevalent because photography REALLY is about who you know. She's talented, yes, but like... come on. If you are single, even if you are normally happily single, are there certain specific things you witness that make you wish you were in a relationship (e.g., people getting engaged)? I mean yeah. I miss cuddling, holding hands, kissing, just being cute together, and especially people getting engaged or having kids. It's such a trigger to me. Once upon a time, that's all I wanted with Jason. I wanted to be that beautiful couple that got married and had two or three loved-beyond-words children, but then he left so abruptly, and I feel like it was so brutally robbed from me. I don't want kids anymore like at all, but the point still stands that I felt like my dreams were just ripped away. Out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? Do you use it for more than one site? I use "Ozzkat" just about everywhere. Have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)? OHHHHHHHHHH YEAH. There have been a couple days or so where I was totally glued to looking up various tattoo designs, bingeing let's plays or conspiracy theory videos, etc. etc. If you ever think about getting married, what are some aspects of the wedding that you would like to see in a non-traditional manner (e.g., a different color dress or “partners” over “husband” and “wife”)? I WILL NOT get married in a church, first of all. I'm also not having the traditional vows, and I probably won't wear a white dress, but instead black. Salt & vinegar, barbecue, sour cream & onion, or cheddar? Ohhhh, I like all those options but barbecue. I think I've gotta go with sour cream & onion, though. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? A D O R A B L E ! ! ! I think they're ordinarily geeky, but I mean, geeky is cute in my world. :^) Do you believe in demonic possession? How about ghosts? Angels? Angels, no. Spirits/ghosts, 100%. I don't exactly believe in demons, per se, but I do question if evil spirits can possess someone. What is one romantic movie that you enjoy enough to watch more than once? I've seen The Notebook numerous times. Name three countries you want to visit; why those three? South Africa to interact with meerkats at the KMP, somewhere up in Canada to see the Northern Lights, and Germany just because, really. I took German for four semesters, and the culture and all just interests me. Do you have a good luck charm? No, considering I don't believe they do jack. Do you use Skype to talk to your friends? Only Sara. Now that I have Discord semi-figured out now though, we'll probably use that for voice chatting. Are you allergic to any animals? I might be allergic to dogs. Do you usually spend your weekends out, or at home? I'm like... always at home. Do you think it’s wrong for people to say "retard/retarded" as an insult? Absofuckinglutely. Don't pull that shit when I'm around. Have you ever had to go to the police department? No. Have you ever lived through a hurricane? Plenty. Have you ever had a home-grown tomato? Yes, from my old friend's garden. We'd have delicious tomato, mayo, and bacon sandwiches. The only instance where I've enjoyed tomatoes. Have you ever held a real gun? The former friend I mentioned just before, her husband always carried a gun, and he just needed me to hold it for a sec for some reason I don't recall. I hated the feeling. Would you rather wear Converse or Vans? I like both, but I think I prefer Converse. Have you ever been called bipolar? Yes, because I clinically am. Have you ever made fun of a handicapped person? FUCK no. And like the "retarded" thing, don't you fucking DARE to do this in front of me. I WILL deck the shit out of you. Do you think it’s okay to have sex before marriage? Sure, as long as you're being safe and are very thorough in communication. Do you like to watch old sitcoms? I don't really watch TV as I say in like every survey it seems, but I do enjoy some old sitcoms I grew up watching with my mom, like The Nanny, The Golden Girls, The Munsters, etc. If asked, could you run a mile nonstop right now? Being completely serious, I don't even know if I CAN physically run right now. My legs are so incredibly weak, and I'm humiliatingly close to what my heaviest weight was back in 2016, so I can almost guarantee my knees would crumple if I tried. Do you wear those rubber wristbands? I used to. I don't really like bracelets nowadays. If a necklace/ring gives you green marks, do you still wear it? Nope. Have you ever driven an electric car? No. When was the last time you saw someone you went to high school with? Uhhhh idk. What breed was the last dog you saw? A fucking GOLIATH of a lab. I shit you not when I say my sister's roommate's dog Hudson is the size of a goddamn bear. How long have your parents been together (or how long were they together, if they no longer are): I wanna say they were together at the very least 20 years. What has been your most epic cooking failure? I once accidentally put something (I don't remember what) in the microwave for around 45 minutes I believe, and I walked away and completely forgot about it. I remembered a long while later, and safe to say, it wasn't edible, whatever it was, lmao. Have you ever been to Mexico? No. Have you ever had a parrot sit on your shoulder? No, but that'd be cool. Has anyone in your life ever treated you abusively? No. How long has it been since your last breakup? Somewhere around two years ago? My memory is so garbage nowadays. Can you concentrate well while listening to music, or do you find it distracting? It's distracting, usually. What’s something you’ve been struggling with lately? I've been pretty bad about drinking too much soda lately. :/

[jawnjendes]

girl, you’re trouble | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

AN: i dont love the title but whatever i guess!! let me know ur thots, Thots! ALSO theres a bit of Spanish in this (surprise, the goth gf is actually mexican) so get ur fuckin translators out

masterlist | series playlist

I woke up alone in bed, but I wasn’t alone in the apartment. Just outside the bedroom, in the living room, I heard the sounds of Shawn singing and playing guitar. A smile appeared on my tired face. It’s been a while since I heard that pretty voice. It took me a minute to process what exactly he was belting out, but it must have been new. I’ve heard all of his songs, but this one was unfamiliar to me.

“Help me, it’s like the walls are caving in

Sometimes I feel like giving up, but I just can’t

It isn’t in my blood”

With a heavy sigh, I reached for my phone on the nightstand. However, as soon as I extended my arm and tried to stretch, I felt the minor sting of my incisions. I groaned and remained lying where I was, and I waited for Shawn to get all his sad boi feelings out. Good thing I loved hearing him sing.

“Laying on the bathroom floor, feeling nothing

I’m overwhelmed and insecure, give me something

I could take to easy my mind, slowly”

Okay, that was a direct hit to the feelings I tried so hard to keep tied up in a small box in the back of my mind. I felt small and helpless all over again in a matter of seconds. I had to lie on this bed and stare at the ceiling while I waited for my boyfriend to come and help me sit up. I had to depend on someone else to get by, and I never experienced that. I needed help, and I hated it. I hated being so vulnerable. Crazy how his words could drastically change my mood. And I literally just woke up.

Out of sheer spite (to whom, I don’t know), I dug my elbows into the mattress and attempted to pick up my head and shoulders. I felt the strain below my belly button, where the biggest incision was located, but I still tried to sit up on my own. Then, a sharp pain went through where I was cut into, and I groaned through gritted teeth. I dropped my head back and took a deep breath. I can do this.

Shawn’s guitar playing suddenly stopped. “Honey?”

Okay, I can’t do this.

I took another deep breath and tried to erase the frustration from my face as the door to the room opened. Shawn dashed inside and approached me.

“Are you okay? What happened?” he asked, looking up and down at my body like he was expecting me to be bleeding.

“Nothing, I was just trying to sit up,” I replied monotonously.

“Well, why didn’t you call me? I was just right outside the door.” Without even asking, he leaned down to wrap an arm around my back and moved me into a sitting up position. I felt a bit stupid.

I decided to change the subject. “Was that a new song I heard?”

“Yeah, something that hit all of a sudden,” he said. “What’d you think?”

Carefully, I shifted so my legs hung over the edge of the mattress. “I liked it a lot. I was happy to hear you sing again.”

Now I was able to reach for my phone on the nightstand. I had a new text from my mom, saying that she and my dad landed in Toronto. A deep pit formed in my stomach.

“My parents are in the city,” I said, my eyes widening.

Shawn didn’t reciprocate my nerves. “That’s great! Do they need a ride from the airport?”

“No!” I answered too quickly. “Uh… If you pick them up and I’m not there, they’ll be upset that I didn’t personally welcome them here. And if I do go with you, they’ll freak out because I’m not taking better care of myself post-surgery. Just let them get a Lyft.”

“Okay, then…”

For the first time in weeks, I got myself ready. Yeah, I was in the hospital for a week and a half, but exams season was prior to that event. I had been looking raggedy for a while now. My face was a little sunken in from the dramatic weight drop I experienced from my diet, but I didn’t look Dead dead. I brushed my teeth and straightened my hair, and I felt good about it. Plus, I was glad to discover I still had the skill to almost effortlessly draw on inner and outer wings on my eyes. I mean, I had one eye done successfully...

Shawn was watching me in the bathroom, leaning against the doorway with a smile on his face. I pretended to be too busy drawing on my other wing to acknowledge him for about five seconds. The pressure was a bit much.

“Can I help you, my dear?” I asked, finally drawing the outline of my wing.

“You just look so pretty,” he said mindlessly. “And you’re so good at putting on makeup.”

I chuckled. “It’s just eyeliner.”

Then the subject changed. “So… I know I’ve asked, but I still don’t know the answer. What are your parents like?”

I never knew how to answer a question like that without sounding like an ungrateful child. “Um… my mom’s an Aries and my dad is an Aquarius…”

“Babe.”

“My mom’s name is Lucy, and my dad’s name is Ed,” I tried again. “They’ll talk to each other in Spanish if they don’t want people around them to know what they’re saying. A lot of people say I’m a mix of both of them. Uh, they’re swayed by actions and not words. They know you make me happy, so they should be nice.”

“Should?” Shawn repeated. “Uh, okay. Noted. My parents and sister are coming over too. Like, a little bit later. So it’ll be a big happy family time.”

“Fun!”

Oh god. If there was anything in my body, I’d shit myself.

For once, the two of us were dressed in something other than pajamas. I mean, I still had on black sweats, but I had on my black long sleeve with a rose embroidered on the chest. It was nicer than a t-shirt, in my opinion. Plus, it went well with Shawn’s black floral button up and black jeans. His outfit was a bit more colorful, but I was a little giddy that we had an unplanned theme going on.

My parents came over first. I heard the knock on the door and made tense eye contact with my boyfriend. Then, I remembered one last bit to tell him.

“Oh, uh… my father doesn’t appreciate names like Gomez Addams, Alice Cooper, Gene Simmons… y’know what I mean?” I said, snaking my arm around Shawn’s waist so we could walk to the front door.

“Why would I call him that?” he asked, confused.

“It’s just his… aesthetic? Appearance? He’s serious about it, and he doesn’t like people poking fun at it, even if it’s not malicious. Tell that to your family too.”

Shawn nodded, but he still seemed confused. I would have explained more, but another well-timed knock on the door distracted me.

“You can just wait on the couch if you want,” he told me as we strolled through the hallway.

“No, I don’t want you facing them alone.”

It’s cute how he thought I was joking. But I was not leaving him alone as long as my parents were here.

“Oh!” I interjected. “One more thing! Do not mention my birth control or my Prozac. They’ll flip their shit if they find out!”

“Shit, okay…”

When we got to the door, I answered. My mother practically screamed.

“Mija! Mi chiquita!” She hugged me around the shoulders, causing the fuzz from her fluffy pink coat to get in my mouth. For once, she was able to reach my shoulders because she was wearing sparkly, silver wedges.

She leaned back and smiled at me, tears welling up in her dark brown eyes. My mom didn’t exactly look young for her age, but she certainly dressed like it. Under her pink coat, she had a lavender dress on and white tights. Not only that, she had dyed her hair a lighter brown in the time that I had been away from home. It was a surprise, but it suited her.

“Love the hair,” I told her with a smile.

She kissed me on the cheek, leaving behind a pink lip stain. “Thank you, mija. Your hair has gotten really long! And you’ve lost weight!”

There it is.

My father was clad in a black leather jacket, a grey t-shirt and black jeans. He had on a black beanie, which covered his full head of dark hair. Last time I saw him, he was clean shaven, but now he had a decent amount of scruff on his chin. He was as tall as Shawn, but way less muscular. He held out a hand to him, and that was when I noticed his nails were also painted black. Haven’t seen that in a hot minute.

“How ya doing?” he greeted. “I’m Ed, and this is my wife, Lucy.”

Shawn shook his hand and smiled. I could tell he was nervous. “Nice to meet you.” He held his hand out to my mom next, but she pulled him into a hug.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you, honey,” she told him, returning his nervous smile.

“You too.” Shawn was pleasantly surprised by the gesture.

Dad hugged me as tight as Mom did. “Mija. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you guys,” I told them.

“Ah, it’s about time you do!” Mom said, still smiling.

And comes the first awkward pause of the week.

“Come on in!” Shawn piped up, gesturing for them to go down the hallway. “Living room is down that way. Would you guys like some water?”

“Oh, you sweetheart. Please, if you don’t mind,” Mom told him before following my dad to the living room.

That gave Shawn and I a moment alone as we went into the kitchen. It was a moment to breathe and to process everything. I looked at him, not really sure what to expect. Did he hate them already?

“You didn’t tell me your parents were polar opposites,” he told me quietly as he went to get glasses from the cabinet. “You never told me your dad was a goth.”

“You never asked,” I said, bemused.

“I’ve asked you like ten times!”

We went back to the living room with glasses of water. My mom was quick to stand up and help me sit on the couch.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be walking around so much,” she suggested.

“It’s good for me, trust me,” I replied. I wonder how much mothering I could take before I had it.

“Let me see your scars,” she said, grabbing at my shirt to look at my bandaged incisions. “Are they healing? Do they hurt at all?”

She’s my mom. What could I do? I sent my mildly embarrassed gaze over to Shawn, who was setting the glasses of water down on the coffee table. He only gave me an amused smile.

“Oh, god no!” Dad snapped, turning his head away. He coughed and gagged.

“It’s not that bad,” I told him. “It’s three holes and two lines in my tummy!”

“Nope! I can’t do blood!”

“There’s no blood!”

Mom pulled my shirt back down and sat next to Dad on the other end of the L-shaped couch. “You dress and act so scary but you can’t even look at your daughter’s wounds!”

They began to bicker in Spanish, to which I rolled my eyes at. Shawn sat down next me and we shared a look.

“Just wait,” I told him. “They’ll be done in a second. Then, they’re gonna interrogate you.”

“Great.”

Once my parents got themselves together, they simultaneously turned to us, hands folded in their laps. They moved together like robots sometimes, it was strange. But it worked for them.

“So, mija,” Mom said, “when will you be coming home?”

Oof. An unpleasant thing to talk about.

“Actually…” I trailed off. “I’m gonna be recovering til the middle of August. If I didn’t have these huge cuts under my belly button, I’d be ready to go home next week…”

Mom blinked a few times, like she hadn’t process what I said. Dad, on the other hand… his face fell. Honestly, I wasn’t too happy about this arrangement either.

“When does school start for you?” Dad asked.

“A week after I’m supposed to be recovered,” I replied. “And I have to get my dorm ready, and my professors will start setting assignments that month. Not to mention, I still have a job.”

“So you can go to work, but you can’t come home?” Mom’s warm, loving facade now vanished. Her face went hard and cold, and her eyes were daggers.

“My job isn’t that far from here,” I told her. “And I’m sitting at a desk most of the time. Trust me, I wanna go home too, but the doctor said-”

She cut across me. “The doctor said you stay con tu pinche novio, verdad? No quieres dejar ese chamaco? No quieres ver tu familia porque ya tienes novio!”

My dad gently placed his hands on her shoulders and quietly spoke to calm her down. It wouldn’t do any good, because now I was angry, and I talked back.

“Él no es chamaco! Me está cuidando, y estoy muy agradecido que me deje quedarme aquí! Sin él, hubiera estado sin hogar y varado! Ma, el doctor me dijo que no puedo viajar asi!” I raised my voice, causing Dad to hold up a warning finger.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that!”

“Pues, claro que no quieres viajar! How convenient!” Mom snapped. “Quieres quedarte con ese guey, no me mientas.”

My dad looked at my startled, confused boyfriend. “Listen, Shane-”

“Shawn,” I corrected, folding my arms.

“Sorry. Shawn. I’m sure you’re a nice guy,” Dad continued, “but we don’t know enough about you. We don’t know if this is a safe enough place for our daughter.”

Shawn sat up. “I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know, sir.”

“Nos va a mentir,” my mom spoke, looking at my dad with wide eyes. “Nos dirá que queremos oír.”

Normally, I would have kept at the Spanish, but I was over it now. Especially in front of my English speaking boyfriend. “Just give him a chance, Ma!”

Dad gave me a look like I was crazy. “Mija… she’s not wrong.”

I ignored him and turned to Shawn. “They’ve been here all of ten minutes and they already think you’re a liar. They think you’re forcing me to stay here or something.”

“Hey, we did not say that!” Mom pointed a manicured finger at me.

“It’s gonna lead to that! You’re always going to the worst case scenario!”

“Well, you’re still sick! He could leave or kick you out!”

Shawn spoke up. “Um… with all due respect, I wouldn’t do anything like that. I care so much about your daughter, I wouldn’t even think about leaving her like this, especially since…” He paused and glanced at me once. “I already knew how I felt about your daughter, but her time in the hospital made it even more clear. I love her… so much. All I wanna do is make sure she’s okay and healthy. And I wanna make her happy, too.”

That was all… the sweetest shit ever. But my mother still had a skeptical look on her face. My dad had his eyes narrowed, but he spoke next.

“I can see that. She told us that you slept at the hospital, saw her through to her surgery. Even before that, you stayed despite her health issues. I think that’s a good man.”

My faith was restored and shattered again with every word. “Despite my health issues?” I repeated.

“Ay, mija,” Mom said with a sigh, “you of all people should know how much of a hassle it is to deal with your sickness.”

“Well, Shawn doesn’t see me as someone who’s sick. He never has.”

“It’s really no hassle,” he added. “If anything, she pushes me to eat better.”

“And I only get sick if I eat the wrong thing. Most of the time, I’m fine.”

Mom scoffed. “You were in the hospital. Obviously, you did something wrong!”

Heard those words before… every time I was in the bathroom at my parents’ house. It was my fault. I felt defeated, so I sat back and pinched the bridge of my nose. It was hard to keep my body relaxed when I was so tense and frustrated. Of course, my silence prompted my mom to keep talking… to Shawn.

“As a child, whenever she got mad, she told us she was going to run away to Canada,” she recalled with a chuckle. “And she did! She got a scholarship offer from UCLA, but she chose to run here instead.”

I didn’t run away. I chose the place I actually applied to, and it was Toronto.

“How was I supposed to look after her? What would happen if she got sick?”

I got sick here, and it was handled. I knew how to handle my own burdens. Part of being chronically sick is learning to live with it. Part of it was always being seen as sick to some people. That happened whether you want it to or not.

“Aside from that,” Dad added, “we were also worried about the type of person she might end up with. She’ll pick whoever she picks, obviously. We just don’t wanna see her with someone who’ll influence her the wrong way. I’m sure she’s told you, but she’s had some rough relationships in the past.”

Shawn nodded. “Oh yeah. I know all about Luca.”

“Who’s Luca?”

God fuckign-

Keeping secrets from my parents was not allowed when I lived with them. It was hard trying to find privacy, much less ask for it. If I wanted to keep something for myself, then I was hiding something and that was bad. I couldn’t even keep a journal without worrying that they’ll read it behind my back. They were always able to get stuff out of me anyway… because they’re my parents, and they want to help, and I can only trust them and no one else. They did everything for me, the least I could do was reveal personal information so they knew every little thing that was going on with me.

Don’t even get me started on how offended they would get if I didn’t want to talk about certain things. I wanted time to sit with my depression when it started happening, only for my parents to literally ground me because I kept it from them. My mom was upset because I didn’t tell her about Shawn from the moment I laid eyes on him. So when I told them that I did not want to talk about my past thing with Luca, they weren’t exactly thrilled.

Thankfully, Shawn’s family finally made it over. That meant that my parents had to put on their civil customer service attitudes. Anyway, I finally met Shawn’s dad and sister, Manny and Aaliyah. I was still in a physical state I didn’t want to be in, but this was much better than when I was on morphine and hitting on my boyfriend.

Within minutes, our parents were bragging about their kids. Not in a way where they were trying to one up each other, more like they were proving their kids were good together. My mom let go of some of her skepticism as Karen gushed about her son. Karen also brought up that she was at the hospital with me, which started up that conversation.

“Okay, mija,” Mom said, looking at me. “How bad was this infection? I couldn’t understand the texts you sent me.”

“Before or after the surgery?” I asked.

“Pues, los dos.”

I spent about twenty minutes explaining the infection, the antibiotics, and the trip to the emergency room.

“So what happened? Why did you get that infection?” Dad asked.

“She stopped taking care of herself,” Mom answered for me. “I’m assuming you and your vato go out a lot. ¿Están comiendo pura basura, verdad?”

“No es cierto!” I argued, but I had to remember the other witnesses in the room. “Sometimes, these things just happen. I was really upset to that I spent so much time taking care of myself, only to end up having surgery. But everything went well. The surgery was successful, and I’m okay.”

I could still see fire in my mother’s eyes, but she held her tongue. It was just another argument to be had later. It was a little embarrassing, having Shawn’s family witness the tension and underlying rage. The only person who seemed entertained by it was Aaliyah.

“And after the surgery?” Dad asked, gesturing for me to continue. “You had another infection?”

“Just on the incision,” I replied. “That was take care of with antibiotics.”

“That’s not what your texts said.”

“Huh?”

Now, I remember sending my parents updates on my condition, despite the fact that they were without their phones literally the entire time I was in the hospital. I knew I sent them the text about having a surgical site infection.

Shawn spoke up, his voice soft. “Honey…”

I turned to him, but he was looking at the floor now. His jaw was clenched, like he was holding something back. He was silent long enough for his mom to speak up.

“You did have an infection, yes,” she said, “but that was a few days after… The day after your surgery, you went into shock. They found out you were hemorrhaging, and they took you into the OR again. If they didn’t catch it when they did, you could have died.”

I only stared silently, my mouth half open. My mom gasped and clutched her chest, horrified. Dad was rubbing his hands together, trying to process what was spoken. Aaliyah had her mouth wide open, like the greatest tea was being spilled. Manny and Shawn were both looking down at the floor.

“Holy crap,” Aaliyah whispered, breaking the silence.

“Why did nobody tell me this?” I finally asked.

“The fever and the drugs made you delirious,” Shawn explained, picking his head back up. “They told you, but you probably don’t remember. Sometimes you didn’t even recognize me. And I sent most of the texts to your parents. Figured they would want to know.”

Every word was like a hammer to my chest. Now that I was thinking about it, my hospital memories were fuzzy. If there was something I did remember, it was my boyfriend sitting at my bedside for days. Also, his nightmares made a lot more sense now. It was my fault.

It’s all my fault.

That night, I lied awake. Again. Shawn frequently thrashed and yelled in his sleep. I found myself wondering if I would actually wake up again.

[lancasters]

yo hello i’m larissa and this is my old old old ancient baby phoenix i haven’t played him in years but here i go //rubs hands together

tl;dr 

+ phoenix’s real name is jude + he moved from the uk about a year ago after an incident where he fought one of his friends and believes he might have caused his death + phoenix suffers from rage blackouts where he can’t remember what exactly he did when he gets pissed off +he's very much a """ guy """ typical badboy carries a pocket knife, you know how it is. fuckin cliche + he’s like exclusively gay but he doesn’t really put it out there much + he has only been in 1 serious relationship and his partner committed suicide + he wears a rope bracelet around his wrist that his ex used to / you know / in order to remind himself of his sins + he’s a very mean and snarky person v cold v withering  + he’s basically like a winter’s day only personified. + brr chills + he’s a loose cannon, don’t piss him off + he’s been trying to keep his head down since coming to bone hill + only bone hill itself seems to be driving him even crazier + his mental health has only gotten worse and escalated to the point that he’s hearing things, seeing things + he’s triggered by christianity + v protective and fiercely loyal with the people he lets in. + resting bitch face + i wish i was a punk rocker with no flowers in my hair.mp3

GENERAL OVERVIEW

FULL NAME: phoenix (his actual name is jude) lancaster MEANING: to be reborn from the ashes anew NICKNAME: nix AGE: twenty-two years old. DOB: february 1st STAR SIGN: aquarius. SPOKEN LANGUAGES: english, spanish RELIGION: atheist GENDER: demiboy. PRONOUNS: he/him/his ; they/them/theirs. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: homosexual. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: grayromantic. FROM: sheffield, england. CURRENTLY: bone hill, utah. EDUCATION: dropped out of school at 16 (completed his gcses)  OCCUPATION: mechanic PERSONALITY TYPE: isfj ALIGNMENT: chaotic good.

APPEARANCE

HAIR COLOUR: like a honey brown. he has bits of grey in it. he dyes his hair often. HAIR STYLE/LENGTH: longish, past his jaw. EYE COLOUR: very blue, like ice blue like no-doubt-about-it blue. EYESIGHT: 20/20. HEIGHT: he's 5'9, so not crazy tall but he carries himself like he's a tol.  CLOTHING STYLE: he usually wears ratty jeans and band t-shirts and those loose denim or leather jackets. v typical skaterboy vibe. also lots! of ! beanies! probably not in the summer tho and probably not while he's at work DISTINGUISHING MARKS: his eyebrows are on point. they're pretty thick and intense. he has freckles bc why not i always give my characters freckles i love them too much??? they're kind of a medium brown. he has a lot of beauty marks too uhhh. he has a lot of scars, too. he has a scar on his upper lip and along his jawline that stand out a lot. most of his other scars are below neck. his knuckles are like perpetually red now because they're been cut open so many times. he has calloused hands. he’s strong. v strong.  SELF-CARE: he usually wears some liberal amount of eyeliner. just enough to make his eyes darker. he doesn't take care of it though, it smudges everywhere. he's kind of got a damn your life damn your love vibe about him. showers often. he works at a garage so???? idk.  SKIN COLOR: uhhhh idk pale sometimes, tan sometimes. just ?? white?? idk BODY TYPE/BUILD: he's like slim and curvy i guess, he smokes a lot and doesn't eat all that much. he has a liquor and nicotine diet, you know??  BODY HAIR: sparse body hair. he doesn’t manscape or anything but he just??? hasn’t ever been very hairy.  DEFAULT EXPRESSION: pissed off. he kind of has a fuck-off vibe to him like....i’d say he’s good looking and all but most people would be too immediately intimidated by the fact he looks like he wants them dead? you know? he kind of looks like trouble. he kind of is trouble though... so.  PIERCINGS: he has a lip piercing and an eyebrow piercing and a bunch of ear piercings as well as non-visible piercings. he's also like ?? TATTOOS:   pretty heavily tattooed. the only areas that aren't tattooed are his neck and his ....... neck. that's it, literally and even then he has a tattoo running down the side of his neck so that's not actually wholly accurate. he also has tattoos on his face. from prison. 

ILLNESSES/ALLERGIES

PHYSICAL AFFLICTIONS: N/A MENTAL AFFLICTIONS: ptsd, he suffers from rage blackouts. both of these are undiagnosed because phoenix has a distrust of mental health professionals.  ALLERGIES: mushrooms.

RELATIONSHIPS

MOTHER: flora margaret lancaster nee hopkins HOW THEY GET ALONG: phoenix and his mother have never gotten along especially well. his mother is a perfectionist who cares not for aberrations. she would not leave an imperfect flower standing in her garden and so life under her thumb had been filled with anxiety and a need to be perfect that dominated all his thoughts as a youth. he did what he could to make her happy, joined the school football team, excelled at his studies, and yet nothing really seemed to make him shine in her eyes. all she cared for was the fact that he was lovely as a child and wanted by all the neighbourhood’s eligible young ladies.    FATHER: jasper alexander lancaster. HOW THEY GET ALONG: somehow their relationship is even worse than that between phoenix and his mother. his father has always been stiff, aloof and demanding. he sees phoenix and he sees an opportunity to expand on the dreams he could not fulfil. he sees an investment. someone to carry on his legacy and so he pushed, he pushed him into football, he pushed him into lacrosse, he pushed him into young conservatives society, he pushed and he pushed until phoenix pushed back. unfortunately this was the first and last straw, and he was then promptly kicked out of his childhood home. SIBLINGS: daphne lancaster (21) ; violet lancaster (8) HOW THEY GET ALONG: phoenix and daphne have always been rivals of a sort. their parents considered daphne to be perfect and above all criticism. phoenix and daphne also had some friction over the fact they liked the same boy in school, phoenix’s best friend and later daphne’s boyfriend. still, daphne had always wanted a better relationship with her brother. as for violet, he used to dote on her as a baby and he thinks of her all the time, whereas she probably doesn’t remember him and was told she only had a sister.  CHILDREN: n/a.  OTHER FAMILY MEMBERS: all estranged.  PAST LOVER(S):  (tw: suicide) - abby carlise - a girlfriend he had in 8th year before he realised that he was not into girls. -  eden carmichael - LET ME TELL YOU ALL ONE THING......this bastard bitch little faux innocent fucker ruined his life. ahem anyway. so eden and phoenix met when phoenix moved into the same apartment complex eden lived in with his mother. he was homeschooled and sheltered his entire life before meeting phoenix and yeah shit goes down they have 1 fight and eden kills himself. full story here. v important to his character,

[darthrevaan]

RvB Bingo Fic - Bodyswap

Title: no te metas con templos alienígenas, idiotas

Summary: Lopez is 100% done with the Red and Blue idiots’ stupidity when they’re themselves, let alone when they switch bodies.

Word Count: 2360

Notes: For the @rvbficwars Bingo Wars, representing Red Team! A little last minute entry to show at least some team spirit xD Lines in italics are in Spanish. 

Also available on AO3

Night was Lopez’s favourite time of day. Finally all the pendejos who haunted him during daylight hours would go to bed, and he could enjoy the peace and quiet.

Morning – when they all woke up again – was his least favourite time.

Today his peaceful nightly repose was broken by the pink one crashing unnecessarily loudly into the armoury and yelling, “Lopez, where’s Sarge?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Lopez said, keeping to his usual flat monotone.

“This is important, Lopez! Where the hell is he?”

The pink one did sound a lot more agitated than usual. Strange. “In there,” Lopez said, pointing to the workshop. “He fell asleep while he was fiddling with that new alien device,” he added, despite knowing he wouldn’t be understood.

Donut brushed past him into the other room, and for some moronic reason began to yell, “Grif! Wake up!”

How much of an imbecile was he? Lopez had clearly just told him where to find the red one. He’d even asked for him by name!

Something fishy was going on.

“I’m up, I’m up, Jesus,” he heard Sarge’s voice say as he entered the workshop. “Wait. Why the fuck do I sound so weird?”

“Look at your hands,” Donut instructed.

Lopez watched as Sarge looked down at his hands, started in surprise, then turned them over slowly. “These aren’t my hands,” he said.

“No shit, genius.” That was rather more acerbic than Donut’s usual. What the hell was going on?

“You’re Sarge,” Donut said, “And I don’t mean you got a promotion.”

“Oh.” There was a beat of silence. Then the red one let out a long, despairing wail. “Noooo! I don’t wanna be Sarge!”

“Grif! Stop whining! You’re still you, you’re just stuck in Sarge’s body.”

“What if it’s permanent, Simmons?” Sarge – or Grif? – wailed. “I don’t want a Southern accent!”

“You won’t- Wait, how did you know it was me?”

Grif gave Simmons a look, an expression that was slightly weird on Sarge’s face. “You’re clearly not Donut, Simmons.”

“Point.” Donut – wait, no, Simmons – sat down at the workbench opposite Grif. “But yeah, I am Donut – or I’m in Donut’s body, anyway. It’s fucking weird.”

“You can say that again,” Lopez said. He was, as usual, ignored.

“At least you’re not fucking Sarge,” Grif said with no small amount of venom.

“At least I’m not ‘fucking’ you,” Simmons shot back.

After a second, Grif grinned slyly at him. “Well, you actually ar-”

“Jesus, Grif, right now?!” Simmons interrupted. “That brings an unpleasant image to mind with, y’know, this going on.”

“Fuck.” Grif put a hand over his eyes. “Now I seriously need brain bleach.”

“Where are the others?” Lopez asked.

Grif and Simmons started, like they’d forgotten he was there. “It didn’t affect Lopez,” Simmons said, narrowing his eyes.

“It didn’t? How can you tell?”

“Look at him,” Simmons said, “He’s clearly still Lopez.”

They both stared at Lopez for a moment, before Grif nodded. “Yep, I see what you mean.”

“Besides, I’ve already seen Sarge and Donut. That’s how I knew you were in Sarge.”

“That means they’re out there running around in our bodies!” Grif said. “Please tell me Sarge doesn’t have mine.”

“No, he’s got mine,” Simmons said. “When I left him he was crushing things with my robotic hand.”

“That means Donut has me,” Grif said grimly. “Tucker’s probably taking video.”

“I guess.” Simmons leant forward, now much more interested in the strange device lying on the table. “I bet this is what caused it,” he said, gesturing at the small machine.

“Cool, but what the fuck is it?” Grif asked.

“I… yeah, I have no idea. Sarge said he didn’t know what it was or how it worked, either.” Simmons paused for a moment, then turned to look at Lopez. “Hey, maybe Lopez knows how to fix it.”

“Obviously I can fix unfamiliar alien technology at the drop of a hat,” he said, his hilarious deadpan lost on the two idiots in front of him, as usual.

Different bodies, same idiots.

“Lopez, can you fix this, yes or no?” Simmons asked.

“No,” Lopez said flatly. That was the one word these morons seemed to consistently understand.

“Well, that puts us back at square one, I guess,” Simmons sighed. “I wonder if anyone else was affected?”

“If we go get breakfast, we can find out,” Grif said, trying to hide the hopeful note in his voice.

Simmons sighed. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Lopez followed them to the mess hall, admitting – at least to himself – that he was curious.

The mess hall was pandemonium.

Groups of soldiers were gathered everywhere, all talking, arguing, crying, or just staring into the nearest reflective surface in disbelief. There was no sign of anyone trying to calm or organise the chaos. Lopez did spot Grif and Simmons – now Donut and Sarge, of course – sitting on the opposite side of the hall.

“There you are, you no-good rotten bodysnatcher!” Sarge said as soon as they sat down. Even using Simmons’ body, his voice was still gruff and stubbornly Southern. “Why I oughta-”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t take your fuckin’ body on purpose,” Grif snapped.

“I think it’s kinda fun,” Donut piped up. “And kind of exciting. I mean, I don’t know who most people are yet, and I haven’t found Doc-”

“No,” Grif snapped, pointing a finger at Donut, “No doing weird shit with my body.”

Donut put a hand to his heart. “Grif! I would never! I’m going to take great care of your body!”

“Probably better care than he takes of it,” Simmons said under his breath.

It was at that moment that Wash suddenly sat down unannounced at their table. This wasn’t unusual; the fact that he was completely shirtless, however, was. For a moment they were all shocked into silence.

“Don’t worry,” Wash said, leaning back in his seat, “Lesser men than you have been stunned into silence by the sight of my abs.”

There was another moment of silence. Then everyone drew in a breath nearly in synch, preparing to unleash numerous variations of what the ever-loving fuck. But before anyone could speak, a huge crash echoed through the hall.

Caboose was standing in the doorway, clutching the doorknob of one of the mess hall doors in his hand. The door had been ripped entirely out of its frame, hinges swinging loose.

“Tucker!” he yelled. “Come back here with my body!”

/

“Alright,” Kimball said, her hands on her hips. “I know this is going to be a testing time for everyone. For now I just have to ask you to grin and bear it until we can work out what the hell happened.” She paused, and then sighed heavily. “And yes, for the moment, I am Private Matthews.”

There were a few conspicuous coughs, but no one outright laughed. “I’m honoured to lend you my body, General!” Matthews called from the back of the room. Doctor Grey’s voice sounded squeaky rather than cheery when he used it.

“…thank you, Matthews,” Kimball said. “Anyway, on to the issue at hand. We need to work out what caused this…bodyswap, and how to fix it.” She turned and looked Simmons. “You said you had some idea of what happened, Captain.”

“Possibly,” Simmons said. “I mean, Sarge was er…fiddling with some unknown alien technology in the workshop last night.”

Kimball looked from face to face. “Colonel, maybe you could tell us more…wherever you are?”

“Right here, General,” Sarge said from Simmons’ body. “Don’t know what that bamboozling bit of alien techno-garbage is, but it sure didn’t seem to be doin’ anythin’ when I was experimentin’ on it last night.”

“When you fell asleep it still hadn’t responded to anything,” Lopez said, “It hasn’t given off any recognisable power readings at all. I doubt it has anything to do with our current problem.”

“Er… what was that?” Kimball asked.

“He said the alien device probably isn’t the cause of our problem,” Andersmith’s deep voice said. When everyone turned to stare at him, he added, “Oh, Doctor Grey speaking, by the way. And can I say I am loving the experience of borrowing your body, Lieutenant Andersmith! I’ve never been able to lift several pieces of lab equipment at once!”

“You’re welcome, Doctor,” Jensen’s voice said from the other side of the room.

“Alright, so if it wasn’t the alien device in the armoury,” Kimball said, “What was it?”

Resounding silence filled the room. People exchanged glances, but no one seemed willing to speak up.

“There was some kind of energy pulse at 3:36 last night,” Church said eventually, flickering into being above Carolina’s shoulder. “I didn’t think it was important at the time – didn’t look out of the ordinary – but I guess I should take a closer look at it.”

“Please do that,” Kimball said. “In the meantime, we should search for any other alien tech on the base, especially anything that looks like it’s been activated. We’ll organise into search teams now.”

In the resulting hubbub, Lopez slipped out of the room and made his way back to the armoury.

It would take those idiots days to find anything on the base, if their previous record was anything to go by. If there was some weird tech here, he’d find it quicker than anyone else.

He logged into a computer terminal and got to work.

/

Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang.

The rhythmic banging had been going on for at least half an hour. Clang, clang, clang, every strike reverberating around the huge room, echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve,” someone said. The voice belonged to Locus, but the intonation was clearly not his.

“I am just,” clang “very” clang “frustrated.” Clang.

“I can see that.”

“Look doc, I don’t need you in here psychoanalysing me.” A pair of eyes turned to look at him, one dark brown, the other entirely black. “Especially not when you look like fuckin’ Locus.”

“I’ll come back later then,” Locus – actually the Counsellor – said softly, before turning away and retreating back into the hallway.

Felix, unwillingly and very unhappily trapped in Sharkface’s body, went back to hammering at the strange alien device in the middle of the room, hoping his repeated strikes would make it reverse somehow.

Or break it. That would be fine too.

Outside, the Counsellor found Felix’s body and, disconcertingly, his own sitting side by side on a low wall. Locus had – much to his displeasure – been forcibly ejected from the Temple by Felix, who was apparently extremely uncomfortable watching his own body move around without being able to control it. Sharkface seemed equally uneasy – probably from the loss of his muscles, Aiden thought unkindly.

“He’s still in a mood?” Locus asked.

“He is. I would let him work it out, but I fear he will irreparably damage the alien device if we allow him to continue.”

“He’s the one who fuckin’ set it off in the first place,” Sharkface snapped. His growl didn’t sound even half as menacing in the Counsellor’s soft voice.

“And we’ll all be fucked if he breaks it.” Locus stood up, faltering a little as he did. He was clearly still getting used to being a lot shorter than usual. “Let’s deal with it.”

“With what? These noodle arms?” Sharkface flopped both arms around to demonstrate their apparent weakness. “You’ll have to take doc over here, or go it alone.”

“I suppose I should thank you for being so concerned about my body’s welfare,” the Counsellor said drily.

“More I ain’t in a hurry to get punched in the face,” Sharkface shrugged.

Locus eyed him with consideration. “Do you think you’d be of use?”

Aiden snorted. “Me? No. I don’t think suddenly having muscle will help a man who barely knows how to throw a punch.” He gave Locus a penetrating look. “He’s your partner. You of all people should know his weak spots.”

Locus glared right back at him. “Usually I try not to hit them.”

“He will understand, when everything is fixed.”

Locus hesitated, glancing between the entryway to the Temple and the two of them waiting for him to come to a decision. Then he squared his shoulders. “Wait here,” he snapped, and he disappeared inside the Temple.

“…and if they kill each other?” Sharkface asked a few moments after Locus disappeared from sight.

“Then we’ll have less to worry about,” Aiden said flatly. “And we might be able to start fixing the alien device. Or attempting to do so.”

“Can’t come quickly enough,” Sharkface muttered. “No offense, man, but I hate your body.”

“Unfortunately it was the only one I had to offer,” Aiden said with a raised eyebrow.

There was a yelp and a thud from inside the Temple. They both tensed, waiting; when no more sound was forthcoming, Sharkface said, “I think that’s our cue.”

“Right.” They made their way into the Temple together.

It wasn’t hard to navigate; soon enough they came to the main room and found Locus, standing over Sharkface’s crumpled body. “You better not have done permanent damage,” its temporarily separate owner growled as he entered the room.

Locus cracked his knuckles slowly. “I know my limits. He’s- you’re- you know what I mean. You both are fine.”

“Glad to hear it.” Sharkface turned to the central feature of the room, the strange alien device sticking out of the floor. “Now, I haven’t got all day, Counsellor. Can you fix this thing or not?”

“Me?” The Counsellor smiled. “Oh no. We’ll have to call in an engineering team. Better settle in for a long wait, gentlemen.”

Locus cursed under his breath. “This is the last time I let him wander in alien temples unsupervised.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #104

Boyfren survey.

What’s his first name?  I call him Don.  I called him by a portion of his last name until recently; it just got to seeming weird to me to call him by that as a couple.  Less personal. Does his surname begin with the same letter as yours?  No. How old is he?  23, almost 24. How long have you been together?  Three months. Do you have a casual or serious relationship?  It's definitely not serious yet, but I think "casual" is too light a word. How long were you together before you told your parents about it?  I told Mom like a few hours later considering she'd been pestering me to date him for like a year. How often do you see each other?  Like once every week and half cries because he works constantly and is usually on the night shift so has to sleep during the day. Do you live together?  No, I absolutely wouldn't after dating someone for three months. Do you have keys to each other’s places?  I have literally never even been to his house lmao. What is the age gap between you? Is he older or younger than you?  He's three years older. Have you met his parents?  I'm meeting his mom next month, his dad passed away I think a year or so ago from a sudden heart problem. Has he met your parents?  Yes. How many siblings does he have?  He has an older sister, also named Ashley. Have you met his siblings?  No, will next month. Has he met your siblings?  Ashley and Nicole, yes.  It's really cute because when Nicole was younger (we've known each other eight years), she got SO excited when he came over.  She and her best friend love him. What’s his name in your phone?  Just "Don." Have you talked about marriage?  Fucking hell it's too early for that. Does he have any kids?  Thank fuck no. Does he want kids?  We've actually talked about this for a little bit because circumstances arose where it seemed appropriate, and he's on the fence, but seems to lean more towards no.  He, like me, is selfish with his free time and a kid would obviously cause issues with that. Do you see a future with him?  Again, too early to really determine that, but speaking from this current time, I can see us being together for a while, yeah.  I mean he's dealt with me as a friend for eight years through all my bullshit, we're very similar people, and he's always been very supportive of me. How did you meet him?  We were both in band in high school. Where did you go for your first date?  Uhhhh... fuck.  I don't know.  We've "gone out" like twice because again, always working, but I c- OH YEAH we went bowling. Who was the first one to make a move?  He's the one who asked me out, but I feel that he gave me hints like years before actually doing so. What’s his favorite pizza topping?  I actually don't know if this is his actual favorite, but I know he loves jalapeno, like me. Does he cook?  NOPE so if we do go anywhere, we're fucked :D Does he like to be big spoon or little spoon when you cuddle?  I'm not comfortable doing that yet; we've never been in a bed together.  But I'm telling you right now I'm too short compared to that guy to be big spoon holy shit. Is he a good kisser?  Honestly, I just don't like kissing anymore.  It's going to take a long time to be interested in that again.  I was fine with it for a while (or rather, I just didn't tell him I wasn't), but I eventually told him I didn't want to yet. Does he make you happy?  Always has for eight years.  He's always been one of my closest friends. What’s his fashion style?  He tends to wear band shirts or graphic tees like I do. Does he drive? If so, what sort of car?  Yes, and I'm bad with cars...  I want to say an impala? Does he have any piercings?  No, I could never picture him with any. Is he more fun or serious?  Definitely more fun.  I have so rarely seen him serious. What does he do for a living?  He's worked at Bridgestone for like ever. What’s his favorite thing to drink?  I actually don't know. Does he live alone, with roommates or with parents?  He lives alone. Does he have any pets?  He has a vizsla named Chester that I think was technically his sister's. Is he your first boyfriend?  No. What was the last movie you watched with him?  "Coraline." Is he an active person?  We both fuckin lazy. What’s his favorite candy?  I have no clue. Have you ever met his best friend?  Yes. What’s your favorite physical quality of his?  His smile is super cute. What color is his hair?  Black, which I apparently have a thing for considering 4/5 have had black hair lol. Do you argue with him often?  We've never argued, even as friends. Where was the last place you went with him?  The movies to see "IT." What kind of movies does he like to watch?  I don't know, but I'm going to guess comedy.  I know for sure though he doesn't like horror because he's a lil bitch. Have you celebrated either of your birthdays together?  I'm sure he's been to my house for at least one of my birthdays, but we've never been together for his. Does he play any instruments?  I doubt he could anymore. Do you have any mutual friends?  We did in high school, but neither of us talk to them anymore. How often do you talk to him on the phone?  I almost never talk to anyone on the phone, we usually talk on Facebook. Does he have a beard or is he clean-shaven?  He goes between having stubble and shaving, but usually the latter. What was the last compliment he gave you?  Uhhh I dunno. Does he dance?  Please. Is he taller or shorter than you?  He's no less than six inches taller than me, I think more. @_@ Has he ever bought you flowers?  No. What color are his eyes?  ... Blue, I think?  I rarely look people in the eye because yeah shy. Has he ever had braces?  I have no clue.  Not since I've known him. When was the last time you kissed him?  It's been a while after telling him I wasn't ready to kiss. Do you celebrate Valentine’s Day with him?  We haven't experienced that yet. How long were you together before you said “I love you”?  We haven't said that yet and I don't think I'm anywhere near ready. Do you know any of his exes?  Nope. What’s his favorite cuisine?  No clue. Was he born in the country he now lives in?  Yes. Have you ever been long-distance with him?  No. Does he ever wear any type of jewelry?  No. What was the first present you got for him?  Nothing yet, pretty hard when you don't have an income.  I'll obviously get something for his birthday next month, though. What was the first present he got for you?  Omg he randomly got me a carbuncle plushy because he showed me one and I flipped the fuck out about how cute it was and I was so mad he got me it because I hate when people buy things for me. @_@ Does he smoke?  I wouldn't date him if he did. What TV shows is he watching at the moment?  I know he loves Game of Thrones, dunno what else really. Have you ever visited him at work?  No. Does he play video games?  That's like his favorite thing to do. Is he straight?  Yes. When is his birthday?  October something fuck I forgot the day.  I wanna say 18th? How long is his hair?  Like the normal length for a dude. Does he have any tattoos? If so, which one is your favorite?  No.  I couldn't see him getting one, really. What is his favorite alcoholic beverage?  He doesn't drink. Does he speak any languages other than English?  He knows some Spanish. Is he college/university educated?  He's in college now and I constantly fucking forget which one.  It's online. How long have you known him?  Eight years. Have you ever celebrated Christmas with him?  Not yet. Has he ever been in a physical fight?  I very highly doubt that. Did you go to the same high school as him?  Yes.