#gonna do my classes and try to get a nice job and save up for awhile before i actually move out to my own place

[radiotorn]

having to restrain from saying anything when my dad dares to say that men get paid LESS than women. in what world. are you out of your fucking mind old man.

[onika-t-maraj]

…

[h0nkch0c0late]

ahhh stop ur gen v fics are too good. Maybe could you write abt reader having some sort of like super scream powers and they’re dating Jordan

You're too nice, anon 😭😭🫶🫶 also when you said super scream powers I immediately thought of the girl from Danger Force so that's kinda funny.

Scream Queen

Jordan Lee x Reader

SUMMARY: you've always hated your powers. Sonic screaming to you wasn't as cool as being able to teleport or moving things with your mind. To Jordan, your powers were amazing.

WARNINGS: swearing, a very supportive gushy Jordan.

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

You felt like out of everyone, your powers were the most boring.

Now, to the normal human eye, your powers were awesome as fuck. With just a scream you could knock someone against a wall or paralyze people by making their eardrums bleed.

Jordan, although not a normal human being, absolutely adored your powers. It was one of the many things that made you unique. Not to mention it was fun watching you throw Rufus around when duelling for one of your classes.

The only problem was that your powers absolutely fucked with your throat afterwards and you would go hours without talking just to make yourself feel better, that or Jordan would stick you in their bed and make you lay there so they could take care of you.

And today was one of those days.

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

"Jordan, babe, really I'm fine." You tell her, voice scratchy, trying to lift yourself from her bed.

She gave you a knowing look before pushing you back down, "you are definitely not fine, I can hear it. Now just lay there and wait." They demanded.

You sighed before clearing your throat, flinching at the pain that shot through your body at the action.

"Where the fuck are you gonna get the tea anyway?" You ask, regretting your choice of speaking as your throat felt like sandpaper.

Jordan smirks, "I have my ways. Now just lay there, do not move or speak while I go grab it." They retorted before rushing out of their dorm door.

You huffed, crossing your arms as you waited.

And while you waited, you thought about the events that had lead you to that moment.

Rufus had been his usual, creepy dickish self, and had chosen you as the main target that day.

Unfortunately for you, Jordan wasn't at your side to save you, so you had to save yourself.

So, as Rufus continually tried to get into your pants (more so you into his), saying things such as "I'm much better than Jordan" and comments about how his dick was bigger and better, you had just about enough.

Turning to him, and screaming as loud as you could, sending waves at the boy so loud that it had began to make his eardrums bleed. He had fallen to the ground paralyzed, his eyes frozen wide.

You smirked at him being defenseless as you rubbed your now-sore throat, just in time for Jordan to find you, ans that's how you ended up in his room for the millionth time.

They were fine with taking care of you, after all it was part of the job description of being your partner, and all.

In fact they absolutely loved it, because it meant that they're attention was on you and only you. And she loved those moments where it was just the two of you.

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

Jordan came back shortly with a mug of tea in her hand, sweetened with mostly honey to the point where you couldn't tell what flavour the tea was.

Your favourite.

It also meant endless Jordan snuggles so you weren't much of a complainer when it came to that.

It was the fact that you constantly needed care. Yes, it was only a sore throat, but Jordan continuously refused to tell you what her sore throat remedy was BECAUSE she wanted to take care of you.

"Be careful, it's hot." They warned as they handed you the mug, then climbed into the bed with you.

"Yes, yes, I know. I'm careful." You reply hoarsly before taking a sip of the drink, enjoying the feeling of the tea going down.

Jordan turned their body towards you, wrapping one arm around your torso and the other to entangle their fingers in your hair, kissing your shoulder as they snuggled close to you.

"You're too nice to me." You tell them as you take another sip of your tea, one of your fingers circling the rim of the cup as an unconscious fidget.

"Please, im the perfect amount of nice. You're just not used to this much attention, which I get." She noted, resting her head on your shoulder.

You rested the mug against your legs as you leaned your head against their's.

Jordan was right, you weren't used to all the attention.

Your parents had always been distant with you, making your nanny or a made take care of you whenever you got sick or when you used your powers because they were too busy living their own lives to take care of you.

And even then, those who did take care of you were absolutely terrified of you and your powers.

So when you had met Jordan, and first got into the relationship, the immediate switch of having no one to having someone was a big step.

"I love you, Jordan." You said after a moment of comfortable silence, your cup of tea half finished as you put it on your bedside table.

"I love you too." They replied, pulling you closer to them as you wrapped your arms around their waist.

Even during the times you hated your powers, Jordan somehow managed to make you love them.

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

BOO another Jordan fic for you thirsty gentlebitches <3

[ivestas]

Thank you for writing my request, I loved it!! I have another idea but it's a deeper subject so I understand not everyone is comfortable with writing about it. Could you write about a younger reader and the team see self harm wounds and scars while they were injured or while they were changing? (Something along those lines) and what they would do/ react? Xx

what is most precious to you?

Summary: The 141 discover a part of you that you’d wanted to bury.

Tags: TW s/elf harm scars + sui/cide and talk of it, please read carefully/don't read if this topic triggers you, platonic!141 x medic!fem!reader, reader implied to be mentally ill, younger!reader, descriptions of blood and injury, canon typical violence, soap + ghost focused, unedited

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: im glad u enjoyed the previous req anon! i hope I'm able to do this req justice too 🫡

You’d been a part of the 141 long enough for the others to know and trust you.

An esteemed medic that knew medicine and all things fixing like the back of her hand, despite your age—it was a natural skill, it seemed. Your hands were always so damn fast with a gauze—hell, even a dirty rag you’d make use of in an instant. 

You were just good. Reliable. Consistent. Seemingly just a normal young lady whose only eccentricity was the job she chose to be: a medic for a merc group. 

Soap often liked to joke about that normalcy that clung onto you. 

“Bet when you’re on leave you work a 9 to 5 and sleep right at 8. I’m right, aren’t I?”

You snorted. “No, I’d sleep at 9.” 

“Ohhhhh, daring! Don’t be too crazy! Ya might just lose a leg!” 

Even Ghost would sometimes jump in, adding his own joke occasionally. 

“Should I get you a planner for your birthday? A nice, minimalist one with neutral stickers to match.”

You’d scoff and jab back, whether it be at Ghost’s mask or Soap’s current and past hair-styles.

But they never gave you a tough time about it—they were glad that one of them was able to blend back to civvy life with ease. 

Price even said it was his favorite trait—”sometimes, you need the practicality and mindset of a normal lady to get shit done.”

“Thanks?” 

The guys all had a similar image of what your childhood was like: middle-class, parents all stiff-like and old-timey, your favorite hobbies probably were things like football or reading, things like that. 

However, that image shattered during a post-mission intermission. 

Things went wrong, completely askew—the enemies were clearly prepared for the attack, because landmines were everywhere and the area was crawling with hostiles.

It was a resounding loss—many casualties, wounded, etc. 

You could hardly keep up, trying to patch up as many as possible, even when the sky rained of bullets and the air tasted thickly of gunpowder and death. It was like a place between purgatory and hell, a constant flow of shouts, screams, explosions.

It was too late for you to noticed a bullet grazed your arm; it was deep enough to be visible, but luckily it wasn’t aimed low enough for it to shoot into your arm. 

You had ignored the wound—in your mind, it only made sense to focus on the soldiers who were fighting for their lives and riddled with bullet wounds. 

So you just did that: focus on them. 

But, due to the constant movement and strain, the graze only worsened, almost tearing. The adrenaline numbed the pain, but you knew it was gonna hurt like a bitch soon enough. 

Luckily though, Ghost shouted in your ear through the comms. 

“Bravo-1, retreat!—fuckin’ hell—everyone, retreat!”  

You did just that—retreat. 

Huffing and puffing, you were quick to run to the distant chopper you recognized as the 141′s. A haze of sand was the only saving grace as it covered you from the enemies direct line of sight.

Soap pulled you into the helicopter with a quick grab of your wrist, completely unaware of the graze that arm sustained. You let out a sharp hiss of pain, feeling the skin tear just a little more. 

The entrance of the helicopter shut, and with both of you heaving, the plane finally shot back into the air, rocking back and forth the slightest bit. The sound of bullets slowly melted away into harsh whirring and mechanical buzz. 

You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling sharply before you got up, arm still bleeding. 

But, strangely, you felt it drip along your arm and into your hand, running along your finger—ah, it should’ve been obvious, the sleeve of your wounded arm had completely torn. 

You lifted the arm, examining the wound. 

Scars of varying sizes, textures, and freshness—some having strange bubbly dots, others consisting of messy lines. Some of the fresher scars had torn a little, causing thin lines or red to rise. 

Your blood ran cold. You glance up, hoping—praying—that Soap didn’t see, or even understand the implications. 

But you could see he was staring, the cogs in his mind slowly snapping together. 

You put your arm away to your side, hiding it from his view. 

“Lass—“

“I need a medkit. We have one on the plane?” 

You loathed the look of sadness, of pity that shone in his eyes, pulled at the muscles of his face. 

Don’t. Stop.

I’m not weak. Don’t—I’m not weak! 

A chorus of words, feelings, of palpable dark was what filled your mind now. Insecurity, self-hatred, all of it—you’d been working on it, trying to regulate, to reason with the miasma that had taken ahold of your consciousness.

But, fuck, you’ve revealed it to Soap of all people—he felt bad, didn’t he? Disgusted? Worried? He was gonna tell Price, wasn’t he? That your unfit for the 141, that—

A hand rested on the top of your shoulder.

“Can I patch you up?” Soap asked softly. 

You grit your teeth. Moving away from his hand, you shook your head, glaring at the floor. A small splatter of blood was there. “I can fix it myself.” 

You expected—wanted—him to berate you. 

But he didn’t. He was kind. 

“Sure, kid. I’ll just get ya the med kit—stay put.” 

Another wave of shame rocked you. You sat on one of the small seats connected to the walls of the heli, rubbing away the small bits of dried blood. 

Consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t hear Soap murmuring to Ghost. 

“The kid—she, ah...” He ran a finger along his wrist. “Catch my drift?” 

“Cutting herself?” Ghost said bluntly. 

“Sometimes I wish you had a little more tact, L.T.” 

Ghost ignored him. “They fresh or old?”

“Both,” he sighed, grabbing a med kit from one of the plane’s various compartments. “What’re we supposed to do? Don’t wanna scare off the kid, but don’t wanna leave her on her own devices hacking away at ‘erself!” 

Ghost grabbed the kit from his hands. “I’ll handle this. You sit down—go near the Captain. Try to leave us some privacy.” 

Hesitantly, Soap nodded. “Work your magic, sir.” 

Ghost made his way to the other end of the helicopter where you were. You were hunched over your wound, a deep frown on your face. It’s uncharacteristic, but he knew it was a part of yourself you’d prefer to be shrouded in dark. Suffering wasn’t a nice look, was it?

But it was human. Denying your own right to feel it—it made Ghost frown too.

He sat beside you, kit in his hand. You had finally looked up then, alarmed. 

“Gimme your arm, kid.” 

You opened your mouth.

“Not leavin’ till I patch your arm up, so don’t even try.” 

Shamefully, you lifted your arm slowly. 

He took it with gentle but firm hands, a thumb running along a faint scar. 

Ghost opened the kit haphazardly with another hand. 

“When I was your age—maybe a little younger—couldn’t find much meaning in everything.”

He lifted his hand from your arm and grabbed alcohol and a small cotton rag. Dampening the rag with alcohol, he drew it to your arm, rubbing away the excess blood and cleaning the wounds. You didn’t make any noise, only breathing raggedly. 

“The suffering was pointless, in my eyes; thought, ‘this isn’t bloody fair’. Born in a shitty house with a shitter father, food hardly ever on the table, my mind deteriorating, and the world cast in deep gray.”

You nodded. 

Ghost grabbed a bandage gauze, unravelling it and wrapping it gently around the graze and the scars. It was calming, watching him work away, even if the wrapping was a little clumsy. 

“The harsh reality came a little while later, and it’s that people like me—us—we gotta work hard for shit to change. That this weight forced upon us, it’s only we that can shed it off. It’s still not fair—frankly, suicide is easier. Thought of doing it for the longest time... But...” 

He shook his head. “In my eyes, it’s a coward’s way out. We should never die by our own hands—there’s always something to live for.”

“What are you living for?” 

“Mmmm.... For tomorrow’s pint.” 

You laughed. 

He grabbed a safety pin and pinned the end of the gauze. “...now, I know it’s ‘silly’ to say, but you know we’re here for you?—the 141′s got your back, kid—how about this, let’s make a deal.”

“Yeah?” 

“You ever have the urge to cut yer arm, you come straight to me, or the others. They’ll listen. They care.”

They care.  

It’s weird, but hearing the words said out loud, it hit you. 

They really care. 

You took in a shaky breath. “Thank... you.” 

“It’s no problem at all, kid. Stay strong.”

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open

[alexfromjersey]

A SCHOOL TAINTED WITH BULLET HOLES

Vada Cavell x G!P OC

Word Count: 2.0k

warnings: school shooting, mature language, gun violence

A/N: I’m trying to write as much as possible before I visit my dad for three weeks so pray that I can at least finish half this book and at least three chapters for my other book.

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

Poke. Poke. Poke.

You were being awoken by the feeling of someone poking you in your side, face, and thigh. You peel one eye open and are met with wide eyes and yellow rotten teeth. You jump fully awake, frightened, and scoot to your wall.

The sickly-looking man let out a laugh at your reaction, “Oops didn’t mean to scare ya.” The man was wearing nothing a dirty stained white t-shirt, no bottoms on.

“Rip! I told you, this room is off limits” The familiar voice of your mother enters your room. She was in a red silky robe that was loosely tied and her hair was disheveled. 

“My bad. I was just trying to look for the bathroom” Rip snorted and moved away from you.

“Last door on the right” Your mom answered. 

Rip nodded and turned back to you. “Sorry kid” He shrugged and left your room. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Your mother comes to stand in front of you. 

“I’m sorry baby but I told you to always make sure your door is locked every night so things like this can never happen” She spoke softly. She tries to push some hair out your face but you flinch away from her. A hurt look appears on her face. 

“Get ready for school or you’re going to be late” She sniffled and left your room. 

You sat on your bed for a good extra five minutes before getting yourself ready for the day. You got dressed in a black pullover hoodie, black t-shirt, faded blue jean shorts, and beat-up black and white Cortez. You grab your bag, skateboard, and essentials before leaving your room. You make sure to lock your room up before heading downstairs. Thankfully, Rip was still in the bathroom so you didn’t have to see him in the kitchen. You brushed your teeth and washed your face in the kitchen sink. 

After you finished, you leave your house without a goodbye from your mother. As usual, you’re met with the sight of your two friends, Quinton and Devyn Hasland. 

“Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken from her slumber” Devyn joked in a broken English accent. 

A smile appeared on your face and you dap the brothers up. The three of you start your journey to school.

“You know Principal Adams is coming for you for missing like a whole week of school. He’s been hounding me and Q for the last week about your whereabouts” Devyn said.

“I don’t care. School is a fucking joke” You shrugged.

“School helps you get a job” Quinton commented.

“No, school helps you become a dumbass corporate zombie. It doesn’t teach you any life skills. Not how to do taxes. Not how to save money to get a house or car. Or basic life shit that you need to survive. How is a2 + b2 = c2 gonna help me in life? When am I gonna need to know that shit? Fuck school til the day I die” You smiled and stuck your middle finger up.

The three of you continue your journey to school. As you approach the school, you see a rail that you always practice on.

"Watch this" You smirked and throw your board down.

"Nice" The brothers compliment as you skate back towards them. You felt a pair of eyes on you so you turned around and they lock on to dark brown ones.

Vada Cavell.

You knew her from your Chemistry class with Mrs. Victor. The two of you never spoke but always catch each other staring. Quinton and Devyn follow your eyeline.

“Oh my god, I wish you would just let your balls drop and go talk to her. The longing gaze from across the room is so Twilight” Devyn groaned. 

You pull your eyes away from her, “You watched Twilight?”

“I only watched it with Jazmine” Devyn defended. 

“Lie. Mom and Pops caught you last week, without Jazmine, watching it in the basement. According to Mom, you look very engrossed in it” Quinton laughed. 

“There was nothing else on TV” Devyn sighed. 

You and Quinton let out a laugh as the three of you walk inside the school. The brothers make their way to their lockers while you head to breakfast. You were starving and didn’t realize it until you got inside the building. By the grace of God, you managed to get to the café before they closed. 

You grab your food and head to pay for it. But when you pulled your wallet out, you realized a $5 bill you had was missing. You sighed out in frustration.

“Fucking dickhead” You mumbled. You put the food back and turned around but you ran into someone. 

“Miss Vaughn, nice to know you’re alive and well. Follow me” Principal Adams demanded. 

You sigh and begin to follow the principal to his office. But another body runs into you. 

I can’t catch a break today. 

“Sorry,” A sweet voice apologized. You looked down and saw Vada. You open your mouth to respond but Adams interrupts you. 

“Ms. Cavell the bell is about to ring. Head to class now” Adams ordered. 

“Sir yes sir” Vada mocked and saluted him before turning on her heels, and walking to class. You chuckled lightly and continued following Adams. 

The two of you made it to his office which smelled like straight black coffee and boiled eggs. You already knew what the talk was going to be about so you just relaxed in the chair. 

“Jordan Vaughn…failing every single one of your classes and racking up a whopping 37 days absent. It’s not even spring break yet” Adams read from your file. 

You grab a red and black sharpie off his desk. 

“What is your goal Jordan? What is it that you wanna do with your life?” Adams asked. 

You continue to draw all over the underside of your board, not even paying attention to the man in front of you. 

Principal Adams sighed, “Miss Vaughn.”

At the call of your name, you look up at him, "Hm?”

“Listen I get it, school sucks and you don’t have a care in the world about your diploma. But you know who does... the world out there. Jobs won't even give you a second thought if you don't graduate. You need to start taking this seriously or you will be left behind while everyone around you is making it" Adams lectured.

"My goal is to become a pro skateboarder, last time I checked you don't need a diploma for it"' You shrugged.

"But you need money. You need money for the fees. You need money for sponsors. What if your board breaks? A diploma leads to jobs that lead to money which can help you become a pro skater.” Adams explained.

He had a point but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of being right. Adams grabbed a pamphlet labeled, Summer School. 

“You complete this program for one month this summer, you’ll be graduating with your friends next year,” Adams said and slid it toward you. 

You reluctantly take it and leave the office before he could say another word. 

The hallways were now empty due to everyone being in class now. You walk to your locker and open it. You are stunned to see an apple juice, strawberry Pop Tart, and an orange inside. 

“What the fuck?” You questioned. You remembered putting this stuff back. You looked down the halls and saw you were alone. You shrugged and started chowing down on the food. After you finished you placed your board and the pamphlet inside. 

SMACK! 

You jumped at the noise beside you. It was then followed by laughter. 

“I hate the both of you” You mumbled, mouth full of food as you looked at Quinton and Devyn. “Aren’t you two supposed to be in class?”

“Yeah, but Q saw you with Principal Adams so he texted me to come and wait for you in the hall. Why are you inhaling your food in front of your locker?” Devyn questioned. 

“I was hungry. But I didn’t buy this though. It was in my locker when I opened it” You answered. 

“Oh, food from Mother Theresa. I need one of those. Tell her to bring me some Burger King” Devyn joked. You rolled your eyes at the boy. 

“Boys and Miss Vaughn, the three of you need to get to class before I-”

A loud bang is suddenly heard. Everything starts to go in slow motion for you as you see blood splatter against the school walls. Two more bangs are heard and a girl lets out a blood-curdling scream. 

More bangs are heard, now in rapid succession. You barely process the fact Devyn is now on the ground in a pool of his own blood. You look up to see a kid from one of your classes standing there emotionless with an automatic rifle pointed toward Quinton. 

“DEVYN!” You hear Quinton scream. It brought you back to reality as you looked down and saw Quinton holding his brother’s body getting blood on himself. 

“Quinton! We have to go! Come on Quinton!” You shout as you pull him away from Devyn’s lifeless body. You push him to run down the hall. Another gunshot rings through the hall and you feel a searing pain in your hip area. You push through the pain, you quickly open the door to the girl’s bathroom and push Quinton inside before locking the door behind you. The two of you cram into a stall out of breath. Sweat was dripping down your face and tears were falling freely down Quinton’s. 

Suddenly, the sound of metal hitting the floor made the both of you freeze. 

“Who’s in there?” Quinton questioned. 

No response. 

“We’re not the shooter. It’s Matt Corgan, we saw him” Quinton added. As your adrenaline begins to fade, the pain comes back in full force. 

More rapid gunfire outside the door makes everyone clench in fear. 

“Do you know where he is now?” A fragile voice asked. You can hear another girl’s quiet cries in the stall next to you. But you were too focused on the pain. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know, my brother” Quinton cried. Tears start to gather in your eyes from the pain and the current predicament. 

“Come, come under” The girl ushered. You let Quinton crawl under first. You bend down to follow but a torturous pain shoots through your body.

“Ahh” You cried out. You lift up your hoodie and shirt to see a gaping wound pouring out blood. 

“Jordan? What happened, you okay?” Quinton questioned. 

You start to feel lightheaded and the world starts to spin and before you know it, you fall onto the tile floor with a loud thud. Quinton quickly unlocks the stall door to see you trying to keep your eyes open. 

“No, no, no, no Jordan” Quinton cried and bent down to the floor. He lifted your tops and saw the wound. 

“Shit, help me please” Quinton called out to the two girls. His voice was quiet enough for only the people in the bathroom to hear. He puts pressure on your wound which makes you groan and squirm. The two girls exit the stall but retreat when they see you on the ground. 

“Please help me,” Quinton sobbed. The blonde-haired girl runs and grabs as many paper towels as she could. She hands some to Quinton and they put pressure on your wound to stop the bleeding. 

“Hang on, Jordan” Quinton cried. 

Meanwhile, your eyes start to flutter close but a warm soft hand brings you back. 

“Hey, you have to keep your eyes open. Don’t close them. Don’t close your eyes” Vada’s voice echoes throughout your head. 

Her eyes were bloodshot red and puffy with more tears falling freely down her face. She squeezes your hand tight to keep you from closing your eyes. The sound of police sirens and heavy footsteps can be heard. 

“Oh thank God,” Quinton said. 

You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open but they were getting extremely difficult. They were getting heavier and heavier until your eyes closed and your hand went limp in Vada’s.

[causenessus]

YAY CONGRATS ON 1k!! you totally deserve it and your work is phenomenal and i can’t wait to see what else you make <3

for the event.. could i get a fluff 📚 fic w/ kuroo where the reader helps him find a book as a library aid??

see you again. | kuroo t.

kuroo x f!reader

written in 3rd pov

one word prompt from 1k followers event: 📚 -> library

"my heart's on mars, kinda hard to see, but you know i'll see you again <3" from when will i see you again by shakka (DOES NOT fit the vibes at all i mean kind of in my delusional brain but i just like the song and it fits the title <3)

word count: 1.9k words

notes: lots of fluff!! kuroo being down bad for the reader upon first meeting her, reader also being down bad. kuroo being a nerd bc man could be sexy or flirt to save his life <3 bokuto being the real star of this entire follower event apparently who knows how many more fics he's gonna make it into. also this was really fun to write bc little lore drop but one year in high school i once got kicked out of a class (very convoluted thing, they thought the class was triggering me which was lowkey a fair statement) so i got to be a library aide instead <333 i'm going to say this is not edited bc i don't want to deal with my mistakes or take responsibility for them. THANK U FOR THIS REQUEST WYR!! I LOVE YOU SM <3 I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FIC

although she enjoyed the solace of re-shelving books on her own, she enjoyed helping others just as much. it was like getting snippets of people’s lives through the books they were in search of. sometimes students came in looking for books for classes, which allowed her to meddle a little into just how many majors her school really offered, and how niche they could be. others came in looking for books to pass the time and she was always happy to recommend one of her favorites if they were open to suggestions.

while some of the other aides were there because they saw the job as an easy, quick way to make some extra money, she took pleasure in her job. when lost students came up to the counter asking for help locating a book, most of the aides felt that they had done their job well when they gave the student some kind of cryptic number and last name to scour the shelves for in return. however, numbers revealed nothing of where a single book could be in a large room piled with books that lined and stuffed every shelf and corner they could fit into.

she often took it upon herself to go on a search with the students who came to her for help. she’d consult the system for where a book was located and then lead the student to where the book was located rather than just sending them on their way. sometimes it took a few minutes to find what they were looking for, but they always found it in the end.

asking someone to wander around a university’s library and expecting them to know where a book labeled “796.31 dearing” was located was the equivalent to asking them to find a needle in a haystack. she didn’t expect anyone to know where a book was right off the bat; that was her job, and she was happy to help.

kuroo always dreaded going to the library. he dreaded everything about it. he loathed having to be quiet, aware of every noise he made, every rustle of his pant legs brushing against each other, and he hated trying to find the single book he was looking for amongst thousands of others. sometimes he felt like he'd be better off pirating a pdf version of a book off the internet, but it never appealed to him as much as a physical book.

over lunch with bokuto one day, he had rubbed a hand down his face and groaned at the thought of even stepping foot into the library, “i have to get a book for one of my social science classes, but do you know how hard they make it to find any kind of science book?”

“you should ask for y/n!” bokuto responded with a mouth full of food, “she’s really nice, she actually walked with me to help find the book i was looking for.”

“you went to the library to get a book? i would’ve expected you to just sparknote it,” kuroo teased with a sleazy grin.

his friend huffed, crossing his arms, “you should have more faith in me! i did read the book, but... it was because my professor had already caught me using sparknotes and said she’d fail me if she caught me using it again...” he trailed off and kuroo laughed.

“i think you just proved your own point wrong, buddy,” he rested his hand in his palm, looking down at the table they were sitting at. “you said her name’s y/n? what’s she look like?”

“mm, i don’t remember,” bokuto said, after a thoughtful pause, “she’s probably wearing a nametag, though. or just ask for y/n! someone will direct you to her.”

“that’s weird, man. what am i supposed to tell her when she questions why i specifically asked for her?” he responded with a sigh.

“just tell her i sent you! she knows me pretty well now, she won’t mind,” the dual hair colored boy shrugged before shoving more food into his mouth, “it’s that or search on your own for your book, but i’d say just find y/n, she can help.”

bokuto had a way of making everything seem like it would turn out fine, but all that confidence left him the moment he walked through the library doors. all he knew was he was on the lookout for a girl; nothing about what she looked like, just her name.

he could pretend to be cool and suave from afar, but when it came to actual interactions, he was never the best at maintaining his composure. he always talked too fast, or would regrettably talk more than was acceptable by his standards.

he settled for trying to find the book himself first. it was some kind of book about behavior, by a last name he thought sounded slightly like a serial killer. if he couldn’t even remember the author’s name, he was helpless. was it even worth trying to find someone to help him? or would he just make a fool of himself trying to describe the book he was looking for?

but he needed to find this book tonight, he knew that. he’d already put off reading it for long enough, and his deadline was coming up. knowing his grade was at risk, he defeatedly dragged his feet to the foot counter. it was impossible for him to casually stand there, looking at people’s name tags, and a girl at a computer was already looking at him, waiting patiently for him to tell her what he needed.

“uh–” he started off, trying to keep his voice low, “is y/n working tonight?”

the girl’s eyebrows knitted together, and he was distracted by the way her lips pursed before he tried to focus on her eyes instead, “that’s me. did you need something?”

perhaps it was luckier that he had found her on his first try rather than walking around like an idiot looking for a mysterious girl, but he couldn’t help worrying about how this interaction was already off to a bad start. he couldn’t believe bokuto could ever forget a face like hers when he was sure it’d be stuck in his head for weeks. “yeah, i’m looking for a book…?” he cringed at his own words. what else would he be here for? she only raised her brows, waiting for him to continue. “it’s um, a book on behaviorism i think. i’m majoring in sports management and i need this book for a social sciences class but i don’t remember what it’s called.”

his honesty made the corner of her lips lift, and he found himself staring again. she had to be wearing lipstick; there was no way her lips could be that red. “behaviorism? and you don’t remember what the book is called? what about the author?”

he shook his head. did he tell her his analogy? he’d already made a stupid first impression, “i don’t remember what his name was, but it sort of sounded like…”

“like a serial killer?” she finished, eyes flicking up to his own.

his own brows raised in surprise, “yeah, how did you know?”

she laughed softly at his remark, “i took a psychology class. it’s how i remembered his name too. i called him beef skinner, but his name’s b.f. skinner.” he found his own lips turning up, and they shared a smile before she cleared her throat, turning back to her screen. he watched her fingers fly across the keyboard under her hands before she turned her monitor screen around so he could see it. “does this cover look familiar? maybe by the title?”

it was a simple cover, dark blue with a tri-colored atom at the bottom. the title was written in bold capital letters: Science and Human Behavior. it clicked with him as he read the title and he could only nod, dumbfounded as she returned the screen back to its normal position.

“that’s exactly it. you’re like a genius, i can’t believe you found it based on three basic words,” he complimented, watching as she stood up, dusting off her pencil skirt. 

he felt a puff of pride in his chest, seeing the way she smiled at his words. “it’s my job,” she laughed again, “i think i had someone else come in looking for it a few days ago. too. call it good timing. your book should be somewhere in the 300s, i’ll lead you there.”

she waved a hand, motioning for him to follow as she came around the side of the counter and he was quick to follow. they walked along the aisles, her head tilting up ever so often to look up at the number plates adorning each shelf. “if you don’t mind me asking, how did you know my name?” she asked, turning back to him.

he fell into step walking alongside her as he hummed in thought, “i had a friend that mentioned you. i always get lost coming here and i was telling him about it and he said i should try to find you because you’re really nice.”

“aw,” she commented with a small smile as they turned down an aisle, “that was sweet of him to say. i’m glad i could help.”

their conversation went silent as they continued walking, and he found himself tugging at the collar of his sweater nervously. “he was right,” he mumbled.

“what was that?” she looked at him again, and he inhaled sharply again, looking into her eyes.

“nothing. i mean—i was just saying my friend was right. you’re very nice,” he spoke quickly, averting his eyes towards the floor. this was what he’d meant when he said he always talked too much; he really needed to learn to keep his thoughts in.

but when she laughed at his compliment, he thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to make a fool of himself if he could hear her voice again. “thank you, i’m glad to hear that. what was your name, again?” she asked, a blush dusting her cheeks. she couldn’t believe she was letting a boy’s words affect her in such a way when she didn’t even know his name.

he was thinking the same thing; how had telling her his name completely slipped his mind? “kuroo,” he said, stopping when she stopped, crouching to run her fingers along the spines of a row of books close to the ground. “my name’s kuroo tetsuro.”

“well, kuroo,” she said, standing back up and looking at him with that smile of hers. paired with the sound of his name on her tongue, he felt like he was going to pass out. “it was nice to meet you. and here’s your book. maybe i’ll see you again?”

“definitely,” he said too quickly, but it was worth it to watch her nose scrunch as she laughed, “i’ll definitely come back, it what meant. um, not just to see you. well— actually— it’d be kind of nice if maybe we saw each other again. maybe over dinner? could i get your number?”

“yes,” she answered, and when she bit her lip, trying to stop the way her smile had grew, he felt like he was standing in front of angel, “to all of that. meet me back at the counter?”

"okay," he breathed, watching her walk off, her hands grabbing fists full of her skirt. maybe the library wasn't as bad as he thought, after all.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Scott and Hope’s child (Hank Jr. Edition)

Scott Lang/Hope van Dyne x child!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Scott and Hope have a baby girl (reader). And everything seems to be fine, but somewhere from the age of five, it becomes clear that the reader is a complete copy of her grandfather Hank Pym, that is: she is incredibly smart, she loves ants (she can talk about them for hours), she also has problems controlling anger (she hit a guy in the face at school for saying that ant-man sucks), thinks that there is no one smarter than her and her grandfather, and she also transferred his sarcastic communication style and views on things and people around, for example, when she first met Tony, she said: "You can never trust Stark."”

somewhere in the distant future a special kid was born

and that special kid had special parents and special grandparents

and those parents and grandparents were two generations of superheroes who saved countless lives (and, well, the world)

so it was no surprise to them that this next generation would be just as intelligent and caring as the ones before them

*cue a toddler with crayons in class*

“and then my grandpa asked the ants nicely to fly him to a bunch of different places and do all these cool things like move stuff around and like do other stuff” -you rambling on

“do you like anything besides ants?” -your teacher

“no” -you, continuing to draw ants on your paper

hank and janet were quite proud grandparents

and scott and hope, your wonderful amazing parents…couldn’t get enough of it

“honey, what about wasps? wasps are cool, right?” -hope

“no” -you

“she’s spending too much time with my dad” -hope

“well, he’s the only babysitter we’ve got since cassie got that new job” -scott

“oh, you mean our old job? yeah, miss those days where we could go flying around getting into trouble and beating people up” -hope

“well, you promised we’d retire so y/n wouldn’t end up with a childhood like yours” -scott

“y/n’s gonna want to be a superhero when they get older, arent they?” -hope

“let’s not think too far ahead. it might kill me” -scott

scott reads you his biography every night before bed

and you always giggle at the parts where your mom and grandpa bully him

“hey, not funny!” -scott

“so funny” -you

“dont get any ideas” -scott

“daddy, are you gonna get arrested again?” -you

“if i do it’ll be grandpa hank’s fault” -scott

you continued spending time with grandpa hank and grandma janet

and they spoiled the crap out of you

hank…got you an ant farm

“now you’re just being ridiculous, hank” -janet

“what? i’m just having some bonding time with my grandchild! hope never wanted anything to do with me growing up” -hank

once you started getting older, you wanted to hang out in grandpa’s lab allll the time. day and night

your parents hated it

“hey, think this one will suck us all into the quantum realm?” -scott

“it was one time!” -cassie

cassie was at hank and janet’s a lot, too, actually. they always wanted to help her with her suits and gadgets and all that

and make sure she had plenty of pym particles

“you have enough, right? here, take some more, i have plenty” -hank

“grandpa, please, i have more than enough, thank you” -cassie

“can i have some pym particles?” -you

“we can play with them in the backyard next time youre over” -hank

you draw new suit designs for cassie all the time

some of them she actually incorporates into her suits

and as you get older, you try to start designing more tech for her

“y/n is really scaring me” -hope

“why?” -scott

“just watch her and my parents together…they’re the same” -hope

“dear god, what have we done” -scott

“dad, look at this new pym particle powered weapon, i just finished the prototype!” -you

“okay, now i’m mad because where was this when i needed it!” -scott

“fifteen to twenty years too late” -hope

“we should have gotten together sooner” -scott

“i disagree” -hope

“wow, not even a pity agreement” -scott

asking your parents if they’ll get back into crime fighting

they said no

asking if you can get into crime fighting

they said no again

so you just kinda stockpiled all your ideas

and did everything you could to further your grandpa’s work

and help your sister

and keep your parents’ minds at ease (doesn’t really work)

and maybe one day you’ll be able to ride those ants and kick some ass like you always dreamed

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @zoeyserpentluck // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 //

[mlmxreader]

Securing Reservations | Billy Butcher x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ heyyy bud, is me Aldo on a brand new blog and I have a request :]

If you could write the prompt "Try getting a reservation at Dorsia now you fucking stupid bastard! You fucking bastard!" Whit Billy Butcher from the boys and an m!reader I would absolutely adore that!

Like maybe getting kicked out of a restaurant somehow or just him arguing whit somebody about restaurant reservations, also some soothing from the reader afterwards, anything unhinged and possibly gore-y is welcomed :]

Have a nice night too! - @slutordo ❞

: ̗̀➛ getting reservations for swank restaurants is a ball ache, but when it comes to you, Butcher is at least willing to try... however that looks.

: ̗̀➛ eyeball gore, gore, fighting, swearing, smoking

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You and Billy had decided a while ago that Sundays would be your date nights, as usually, there wasn’t much going on those days and it tended to be a lot quieter than normal; you both took turns planning where you would go and when, and while his ideas were often relatively small and intimate, yours weren’t exactly huge and extravagant either.

The biggest thing that the two of you ever did for date night was when you had had the idea of going into the city centre to check out the holiday markets that were littered along the high street; stalls adorned with various cheeses and chocolates and beers, clothing and jewellery, different little trinkets as well as every form of media from old school vinyls to blu-ray DVDs.

Billy wasn’t huge on the big and flashy, the lavish and luxurious; a pint down the pub and a takeaway chip shop meal would do just fine and he could grin and brag about it for the next week.

Yet, he knew that you deserved better than that; he scrimped and saved and skimped whatever he could, knowing that you deserved better than a pint down the pub and some shit Chinese takeaway.

He was trying his best, for fuck’s sake.

It was Saturday night, when Billy found a fancy restaurant that was taking cash reservations, but there were only a select few left, and the queue consisted of him and some fucking Vought cunt who proudly wore the company’s name on his briefcase beside his full name - Sean Patrick Bale; Billy clenched his jaw, eyeing him up.

He was muscular in build, but the type of muscle that was lended more to starvation and constant exercise rather than actual strength; neatly styled dark brown hair that came down to his white shirt collar; hazel eyes that were full of malice and contempt.

He wore a long black coat that went down to his calves, designer black shoes, designer black blazer, designer black trousers. Designer white shirt. Designer red tie with a subtle white pattern.

Billy knew the type, shallow and all shout flaunting Daddy’s money; he knew the type, middle class White men from suburbia who got into the big business because Daddy got him a high position job.

The type of cunt who went to that type of restaurant frequently; clearing his throat, Billy dared to approach, tapping him on the shoulder as he smiled falsely.

“Sean!” He hoped he sounded friendly enough as he leaned back slightly. “What are you doing here?”

Sean looked disgusted, sneering at Billy as he scoffed. “Who are you?”

Billy grinned, licking his lips. “Y’know, Donald! From accounting!”

Sean rolled his eyes, he never much cared about those on the floors beneath his office, so he sighed, and upon realising there were other people around, forced himself to smile. “Right! How could I ever forget! I’m so sorry, Donald! What are you doing here?”

Gotcha. Billy did his best not to laugh as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, smiling. “Well, I was just gonna book a reservation for me and my… partner.”

Don’t be too obvious, Butcher. He knew what Sean was like, the contempt held for anyone different. He had to watch his fucking mouth, but Sean merely shrugged as he nodded slowly. 

“What a coincidence,” Sean hummed. “So am I.”

“Tell you what,” Billy hummed, taking a quick look around. “Why don’t we got a smoke, eh? Only us two here, anyway.”

Sean was apprehensive, but shrugged as he followed Billy into the alleyway; the fucking cunt kept muttering under his breath about how much he hated to spend time with underlings, and once the two were well out of earshot and eyesight, Sean sneered at Billy once again. 

“Look, man, I’m not in any position to fucking promote scum like you,” he started, “and I’m certainly not going to fucking promote someone who dresses like he hasn’t seen an iron in years… do you even summer outside of the State? No. You’re just a-”

Billy didn’t hesitate, grabbing the back of Sean’s head and slamming it against the nearest wall; the bloody imprint stayed there as Billy dragged Sean’s face up and down the harsh bricks, slowly grating away the sloughing skin right down to the muscle.

But Billy wasn’t done, putting Sean on the floor and straddling his waist; he brought his fist up, slamming it down against his face again and again and again until he could hear the crunch of teeth falling from gums. The grinding of bone.

But the cunt was still breathing, so Billy pulled the knife from his back pocket, and shoved the blade into Sean’s eye; he could feel it pop as it deflated upon the blade, blood and fluid spurting as he dragged the knife out before slamming it into the other eye. He grinned as the blood spat upon his face. 

“Try getting a reservation at Dorsia now you fucking stupid bastard!” Billy howled, plunging the knife into Sean’s throat and dragging it down to his sternum. “You fucking bastard!”

Panting heavily, Billy got up, and wiped the blood from his face on the back of his leather jacket before he went back to the restaurant; the only one in the queue, he managed to get the very last one available, and relief crashed over him like wildfire as he smiled calmly.

He checked his phone, and nearly grinned when he realised that he had a text from you asking to meet at the end of the street; a slight skip in his step, he was surprised when you prevented him from hugging you, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. 

“What’d I do?”

You gestured to the wet patch on his leather jacket, daring to smile a little. “Care to explain?”

Billy shrugged, lighting up a cigarette and offering one to you. “Nothin’ really, just some cunt from Vought got in me way.”

“Billy,” you gently took his hand, examining his knuckles. “Look at your hand, love.”

He did as told, his gaze dropping to his knuckles for a moment before he opened his mouth to speak; but he knew that you were already a step ahead, as usual and as always, so he just raised his brow slightly, and frowned. “What?”

“I appreciate what you did,” you said soothingly, shaking your head before pressing a kiss to his bloodied and bruised knuckles. “But you don’t have to get violent, y’know. I would’ve been okay to have gone anywhere else.”

Billy scoffed, taking a step back as he lit up the two cigarettes. “Would you, though?”

You nodded, taking a long drag as you hummed. “Bills, as long as I’m with you, I’m happy to be and do whatever the fuck. I do not give a pig’s tit, as long as I’m with you.”

“I got the reservation.”

You grinned, doing your best not to laugh as you shook your head so fondly. “Fuck’s sake… you’re a nightmare, y’know, my favourite fucking nightmare.”

At that, Billy grinned. He knew that he had done right by you, and if he was honest?

The fight had taken a lot of the frustrations of the week from him as well; he was just about ready to take you home, to spend the night doing whatever you liked, and then getting to bed quite early.

He wasn’t so tense about everything, and he wasn’t so on edge either. But then he looked into your eyes, and even more of that tension dropped as he gently reached for your hand and held it rather tightly; not enough to make you uncomfortable, but enough that you would know he was actually listening, and that he did actually want you to open your mouth.

“You’re too good for me,” he told you. “Y’know that, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes at the remark. “Billy. I’m your boyfriend. As far as I’m concerned? We’re good enough for each other as long as we’re happy.”

[changeling-fae]

1, 14, & 21 (not Nemo, haha!) for the Dark Urge askmeme! also any other numbers you desperately want an excuse to share ^^

I’ll post for both my Durge’s, Nym and Casira.

And also I apologize for its length. It’s a chonker.

Nym:

1. What circumstances led to your Dark Urge becoming their class/subclass?

Nym’s an abyssal tiefling (granddaughter to Graz’zt) and her bio-father (not Bhaal) was a divine soul sorcerer to Eilistraee, so normally she’d be a a divine soul sorcerer but I have her as a wild magic sorcerer because her abyssal blood and her spark of divinity doesn’t play nice with each other. It’s a constant war inside of her.

She’s a bhaalspawn because her abyssal cambion mother basically at one point had sex with a bhaalspawn, and I headcanon that succubi/incubi steal the essence of people they sleep with and their bodies then corrupt it with whoever they knock up/get knocked up by. I know technically cambions aren’t succubi/incubi but being the daughter of Graz’zt, I’m giving her some leeway. So she stole the sperm/essence of a bhaalspawn and for funsies, mixed it in with the child of the divine soul sorcerer man she was currently tricking/banging. So Nym has three parentages technically.

But yeah, she’s mechanically a wild magic sorcerer because her particular concoction of existence doesn’t play nice with each other.

She’s multiclass bard because she loves music and her day job when not doing stuff with the cult (which she was already trying to pull away from) is entertainment. Only time she ever feels at peace.

14. How good of a liar is your Dark Urge? How do they feel about lying?

Nym is an excellent liar and feels nothing when she does it. She’s not a habitual liar, she only does it when she feels she needs to to protect herself, but she has no qualms about doing so. I think if she has to do it around someone she cares about, is the only time she feels some guilt. Or at least, discomfort.

21. What are 2-3 songs that your Durge would relate to?

Paint It, Black by Ciara - Nym feels so much darkness and bitterness and she doesn’t want to.

Big God by Florence and the Machine - Definitely one of her main songs, not just for lyrics but the dancing in the music video. She secretly worships Eilistraee as her father did but she’s so conflicted and desperate for some form of salvation but also laments and despairs against the gods.

Death Wish by Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit - My girl has got bad depression and she’s definitely the girl in this song’s scenario. The lines “Who’s gonna save you, who’s left to pray to? What’s the difference in a breakdown and a breakthrough?” fits her like a glove.

Bonus question for her:

2. Did your Durge have any romantic and/or sexual relationships prior to their illithid adventure? If yes, who was it with and what was it like? If no, how did they feel about being single?

Ok so Nym has a very complicated and messy relationship to both sex and romance. She’s had a few romantic partners, whom she usually breaks up with because she feels she’s a danger to them and/or she feels they deserve someone without her baggage.

She was in a relationship with one of my Tav’s, Cillian Baker, and he was her last serious romantic relationship before she broke up with him.

She’s rather hyper-sexual but uses it as way of self-harm tbh. She’s a CSA survivor and her relationship with sex is rather unhealthy. She likes sex in the moment but afterward deals with extreme self-loathing. She also tends to choose dangerous or questionable men for ONS because sometimes she wants an excuse to murder someone, always a toss-up.

Right before the game, going on for several months, she actually had a relationship with Raphael at the Devil’s Den. It wasn’t sexual or romantic; she originally came to his presence because a woman she was close to and had feelings for liked to party (using it as a coping method herself) and they ended up in the DD.

Nym clocked him for a devil right away and he knew she was Durge and found her a novelty/would be a yummy soul but more an idle interest. She was worried her friend would get in trouble around him (I’m picturing him catering intimate sinful little parties for him to find souls in).

They slowly danced around each other over the course of months, and came to play lanceboard as a regular occurrence. Eventually her friend basically met someone and got clean and while Nym was happy for her, she’s just so damn lonely. I’ll probably post a separate post on her and Raphael’s relationship because it’s long but basically she comes back to the DD and resumes their game nights.

He finds her amusing and they have a weirdass connection that can’t quite be described. At some point they do get into a tiff, she got too close to his little spark of humanity on accident and it made him lash out.

She doesn’t show up for a number of weeks and he doesn’t think much of it and then oh, would you look at that, she’s one of the abducted and has some memory loss. That’s when his interest spikes immensely and then the ingame stuff. She feels a connection to him but doesn’t know why and it pisses her off, lol.

Ok, now onto my second Durge:

Casira:

1. What circumstances led to your Dark Urge becoming their class/subclass?

Casira is a cleric of Selûne (light domain). How that happened is basically, the Bhaal cultists used the corpse of an aasimar of Selûne (one of Aylin’s sisters) in a profane ritual that used Bhaal’s blood to fill the empty vessel. Created a baby bhaalspawn but that tiny spark of Selûne remained.

She grew up conflicted, raised in the cult but never feeling right. Selûne tried to reach her a few times in her life but it was too dangerous/Sceleritas Fel was always watching and it put Casira in danger.

Her cleric powers really only came forward once Casira was abducted and no memory because Selûne took that as her chance to influence her.

14. How good of a liar is your Dark Urge? How do they feel about lying?

Not that good, tbh. She’s fairly honest and upfront if you ask her questions. She finds lying difficult to understand and doesn’t like doing it. It gets her into a lot of trouble.

21. What are 2-3 songs that your Durge would relate to?

Eva by Nightwish - Definitely her in both lyrics and vibes.

The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives - “I shine only with the light you gave me” is very her.

Fake Wings by Kajiura Yuki - The solemn/melancholy tone fits her.

Bonus question for her:

25. How does your Durge feel about Sceleritas Fel?

Terrified. Even without the memory loss, she was terrified of him. He was put in her life because he/Bhaal could sense Selûne on the sidelines. If she didn’t do the murders and rituals enough times or ever showed reluctance, she was severely punished and Bhaal would overtake her body and control her (where the really nasty Durge lines happen, like necrophilia, etc). So she learned that to keep her body in her control, she had to do the serial killing.

His “naughty naughty” was usually a precursor to her punishments so when she got that dream in the third act she was so terrified of falling asleep for weeks.

[purposefully-lost]

Bobby kept casting quick, sideways glances at her as he drove. Chris leaned against the passenger door and did her best to just ignore him, her jaw clenched tight and her heart thundering hard in her chest. She was fully aware that she was putting her whole livelihood in the hands of a boy that she barely trusted, this far from home and with only a tenuous connection between them, but she couldn't be overly bothered with caution at this point. It'd been two weeks since she'd taken all of her savings from a few months of working two jobs, plus the cash she'd regrettably taken from her mother's wallet, and struck out west. She'd known it wouldn't carry her very far. She'd just needed far enough.

She'd overheard Bobby talking to Rabbit, once. About the places he'd thought he might move to as soon as he got out of that house. That was all she'd had to go on.

And it was pure, dumb luck that when she'd driven into one of those towns and taken a break at a gas station, she'd looked across the road and seen Bobby's truck. He'd been sitting in a fast food line, and she wasn't taking in any chances with missing him.

Once he'd stopped swearing in shock over the girl that had brute forced her way into his passenger seat, he'd told her that they had a motel room on the other side of town. He'd also added an extra burger and fries to the order once he'd gotten up to the window, without her asking, and she hadn't yet figured out how to thank him.

Bobby glanced at her again. Chris finally looked back at him. "What?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, diverting his eyes back to the road. But then he frowned. "Just.. you were in the same class as Jon, right? Shouldn't you still be in school?"

"I dropped out," she answered. The expression on his face didn't change much, but she saw the resignation and the understanding there-- it wasn't like she was the only one. She wondered if Bobby had actually graduated or not. He and Rabbit had left before he could walk the stage, but it'd been at the tail end of the year. She leaned back in her seat and studied him for a moment. He looked quickly at her again, his frown deepening. It was clear he was uncomfortable, but she wasn't concerned. She didn't know what she could do about that, anyway. It wasn't her fault.

"How'd you get all the way out here?"

She shrugged. "I drove."

"But-"

"I remembered you saying something about wanting to move here. So I figured it was my best bet."

He puffed out his cheeks, then blew the air out again, clearly still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was here. Chris turned her head to look back out of the window, content to leave it there, but then he spoke again. His voice was a little quieter. "Listen, I know you came a long way, but-"

"I came here for Jack."

"I- I know, but.." They pulled into the parking lot of the kind of place that Milly would have a fit if she saw Chris there. She looked over as Bobby put the truck in park and then shifted to look her more fully in the face. "I know he's an your friend and everything, Chris, but this is.. fucking crazy. And he's- Jesus, I don't know how he's gonna handle this." Bobby, as far as Chris remembered, had always sort of looked tired, but there was a new kind of exhaustion to him, now. He looked like he'd aged about five years since the last time she'd seen him. "He's been kind of.. fucked up over what happened. It's gotten better, but-"

"What happened?" She asked, expectant. Bobby shook his head.

"Sure as hell isn't my place. Just- I don't know. Isn't your mom, like, a nice person? If she's looking for you.."

"I left a note."

She could see the dismay enter his eyes. "Oh, god--"

Chris rolled her eyes and shoved at the door to get it open. "Don't worry. No one's gonna think you kidnapped me. I called her yesterday, too." That didn't seem to soothe him, but she didn't care. She stepped out of the truck onto dusty gravel and reached to grab the paper bags of food out of the seat between them before he could. She was coming inside whether he liked it or not. She could hear Bobby groan as he got out of the driver's side and walked around the car to meet her, digging into his pockets for the room key.

"Whatever," he told her, glancing down at her. "If he.. freaks out, or something, don't say I didn't warn you."

He led her towards a room at the corner of the building and knocked twice before he started to unlock the door. "It's me!" He called, and Chris heard movement inside as someone got up off a bed and shut off the volume on a TV.

"Took you long enough!" A voice called back, and the moment the door swung open, there he was. Tossing a remote back onto the bed, Rabbit turned to look back at the door and froze. He looked a little worse for wear, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair in tousled mess, but he was just what she'd been waiting to see. He barely managed to stutter out a shocked syllable of her name before she shoved the bags against Bobby's chest and launched herself towards him. Rabbit caught her with a quiet huff, his arms squeezing tight around her as she buried her face against his neck. She felt one of his hands reach up to slip into her hair, like he couldn't quite believe she was real until he'd proven it. When she pulled back to look up at him, both of their eyes were wet. He glanced from her to Bobby. "What?"

Bobby, sitting the bags down and moving to relock the door, shrugged. "I don't know, man. She's your girlfriend, ask her."

"I-"

She wasn't his girlfriend. But she'd always been close enough, hadn't she? Before Rabbit could form the response, Chris grabbed at the collar of his shirt and tugged him down for a hard, brief kiss. He looked at her with wide brown eyes when they parted, his one working pupil blown so that the both of them were even, for once. Then he broke into a loud, shocked laugh and hugged her close again. "Chris.."

She pressed against his shoulder. "You promised me," she mumbled. "I'm holding you to it." She wasn't even sure what she was referring to, exactly, the summer plans or camping trips or senior year promises. But he seemed to understand. Rabbit nodded against her and squeezed her tight.

"Yeah. Okay," he said softly, and held her there for another long moment. Chris closed her eyes and breathed out. It'd been a long drive and she'd have to call her mom again soon, keep her from racing out here in a panic, but it'd been worth it. She wasn't leaving him again.

[cheddar-baby]

i've made the executive decision that when i manage to get a job im gonna start saving specifically to get a really nice medium format digital camera. During covid i got a ton of money from the government and kinda blew it on useless trash i mean and important stuff but im still kicking myself that i didnt just bite the bullet and drop a chunk of it on a really nice digital camera. It keeps coming back to get me that i dont have a good digital camera and if i wanna do a decent digital shoot i gotta borrow my friends camera. Like i have countless film cameras in every format from 35mm to 4x5 but my single digital camera is one i got as a gift in high school for photo classes that was already on clearance at the time it was bought. I dont really like the look of normal digital cameras i think they're just still too crispy crunchy and the lenses are too small to get the really lovely depth of field fall off that medium format film lenses have. BUT if you jump up to medium format digital its incredibly expensive but it has incredible image quality, and the lenses are generally large enough that they are just eeking into having the look i want. So i think i'll try to start doing that and set aside money for it when i have money.

[ah0yh0y]

tagged by @ribcagelikepiano for the get to know you game!! thx friend !!!!!

questions: last song you listened to, currently watching, currently reading, current obsession

last song: Come Hang Out by AJR off the top of my head by my tabs say Providence by Poor Mans Poison . Come Hang Out feels so nostalgic to me even if i only listened to it recently reminds me of a graduation song (it came out 5 yrs ago so it makes sense. I just really love Poor Mans Poison's vibes generally great fuel for daydream and also matches well with the feeling of revolution (and seeing everything collapse i guess.) (ish) mentally listening to Your Love is All I Need by Sami Yusuf tho at all times lately, probs because i have been trying to wean myself off listening to music for like the 50th time. (its slow going but IM GONNA TRY inshaallah ill be able to do it) (he also took the old nasheed music video off his channel? sad its so good)

currently watching: does d20 mentopolis count? only watched one ep but its good. i havent watched anything regularly besides like school vids for a bit. tried watching the dragon prince s5 when it came out but buffering (the video player i mean) and dissatisfaction at the pacing and characterization kinda stopped me. ill back on it at the end of the yr when everything is settled. if we are talking about podcasts started relistening to wolf 359 and keeping up with the greater gatsby (the latter has SUBLIME noir vibes as it is a noir i bloody love shipwreck's work it scratches that itch in my brain so well) . i may have seen spoilers for wolf 359 so i am anxiously waiting to see if i am proved wrong but im on s4 so its soon prepare for a barrage of reblogs for it. watched s4 of malory towers it was very nice i cant wait for s5 - the pantomime hopefully we get new members for the older years next season i miss the larger cast

currently reading: not much really. fanfic alot. i guess. caught up to the end of the To Make a Legend series on ao3 (pjo) and other fics for a couple of other fandoms (in one false move by Kalidium is really good if your into murder most unladylike - spoilers for A Spoonful of Murder though) also been reading barbie 2023 fanfic? was bored and started hunting for good ones (slim picking at the moments but if you want character study and grief and some bloody good writing def read something in me in you by telm_393 i cant explain it its that good) also reread My Memories Came Back in the Form of Someone Else by Lucy_Luna yes its that really good spiderverse fanfic do check it out

BESIDES THAT THO in terms of actual books. have the audiobook saved for The Valley and The Flood so gonna listen to that later. Have to read The Hate Race for class (not my fave but i need for analysis ive read it like 3 times but I STILL DONT REMEMBER ANYTHING) .

started rereading The Ballad Of Songbirds and Snakes a couple of weeks ago ahead of the movie coming out at the end of this year but never got the chance to finish it so ill have to get on that too.

also dracula ive been reading as well but more on that the next section.

current obsession: re:dracula is the first that comes to mind im so bloody invested in jonathan's wellbeing and his relationship wiht mina and the whole story its insane . i should read more older books its good . re;dracula DOES SUCH A GOOD JOB AT SUCKING YOU INTO THE STORY THE VOICE ACTORS REALLY MADE IT FOR ME i just cant with ti it makes me so bloody happy!! Renfield's voice actor is a standout for me everytime he's there i just have to pause and stare at a wall. also jonathan's actor as well hes SO GOOD i was geniunly worried about jonathan not sending me voicemails into my phone i was THAT endeared to him

besides that PLAY IT BY EAR the musical improv show by dropout is also a obsession of mine i cannot with their talent. the MUSIC so good i want to play it all the bloody time . i am in absolute awe in the performers ability to create a story and TIE IT ALL TOGHETER SO WELL like every piece of information is used whether you expect it or not . DN THE BAND OH GOD I DONT KNOW HOW THEY SO IT THE MUSIC IS SO FUN AND CREATIVE AND FITS THE MOOD AND MADE UP ON THE SPOT???!!! HOW I DONT KNOW (if u ask me who my favourite guest star is at the moment its ross byant hes an absolute delight whenever he is on a d20 show- the improvised shakespear episode blew my mind)

anway THIS SI LONGGGGGGGG soz

no pressure tags: @filmloser04 @mistichallow @charlies-a-thief

@literallymahir @quotidian-oblivion @monochrome-anomaly @suksiili @miseria-fortes-viros and anyone else that wants to join!!!! (you dont have to do a brain dump like me i always go overboard)

[thehomebodydiaries]

homebody diaries .002.

the amount of reading that i’ve been doing lately makes me think of when i first discovered booktube: i learned about all these popular books and i was broke for like a consistent year because i wouldn’t stop buying books, but i only made like $9/hr. even now, with a full-time job that pays me almost twice that much, i still don’t know why that worked out for me. it definitely should not have.

anyway, yesterday was “free comic book day” and a local comic store gave me a bag of like sixteen free comics, and then i turned around and spent $80 on more comics. it also reminded me that i had two comics in my favorite series that i haven’t read yet. so i’ve got volumes 10 and 11 of “saga,” and yesterday i purchased the first volumes of “deadly class” and “something is killing the children,” as well as junji ito’s manga interpretation of mary shelley’s “frankenstein,” and then “old man logan,” which is about an elderly wolverine (whose healing capabilities are faltering) who gets picked up by an old hawkeye. it’s what inspired the movie logan, which is objectively speaking the only good x-men movie (do not come for me, i watched those movies for the first time in release date order like last month ago, and i am lowkey way more into the x-men than i am the rest of the marvel heroes, save for like agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.). i also received a package in the mail containing the fifth book in one of my favorite series: the witchlands series by susan dennard. oh my god, and i started the wayward children series by seanan mcguire and it’s so good. and i’m waiting on two more books in the mail, both for my bookclub.

i am so content with it too. i am doing it because i love reading and it brings me joy. plus, who doesn’t love some easy escapism? same reason i love video games.

speaking of which, i gotta start a farm with some friends. there have been so many updates and i haven’t played the pc version of it in so long. maybe i’ll convince a few of them to let me stream it. that, and palworld. i’m just not sure when i should start streaming; it feels like i have so much left to do, but it also feels like i’m not doing anything at all. so i might have to try streaming for 3-4 hours on my days off, with or without friends. my problem when it comes to streaming is that i’m my own boss, so not following through with a schedule doesn’t really have any consequences. but i really gotta get that started, otherwise i feel like i’ll never get around to it. it certainly would be nice to eventually make some extra money off of it. thought i wanted to be a val streamer, but i shockingly haven’t even really touched the game since i moved into my new place.

izzy and i watched four movies in a day on friday: mr. and mrs. smith, bullet train, baby driver, and everything everywhere all at once. all of them were so good, although everything everywhere all at once was… interesting. like the whole overall message of it is great and everything, like we love old traditional parents learning how to accept the things they can’t control about their child, but like… the buttplugs. wow. what a scene. (and that is all i’ll say on that; if you know, you know.)

i’m working on a linktr.ee with all my currently active and soon-to-be active accounts, which includes tumblr, discord, snapchat, and twitch. i was thinking about making a patreon, but i feel like i should gather an audience before i attempt managing another account. i already hate social media as it is which is why i only have what i have… we’ll see where it goes.

anyway, it was a solid weekend. i’m still tired, but i did drink quite a bit at a party last night and now i’ve got five days of work ahead of me, and my coworkers alone make that exhausting. but i’ve got lots of reading and writing to do to keep myself relaxed in between moments of masking (totally gonna be the name of my autobiography), especially once the new bookclub pick arrives. i’ll try not to be too miserable by tuesday.

[imaginepostingonsideblogs]

i need to hear your thoughts on casty

its. its. clasping and unclasping my hands. tyhe're. its. uh.

its the relationship between a fucked-up scientist who uses peoples words against them and high-school drop out with a childhood fixation on the fae whos specifically taught himself to Not Say Shit That Can Be Used Against Him but also the relationship between two guys who are locked in a constant game of 4d chess they're both losing at but its also a relationship between two people who agree wholeheartedly with one another about like. 80% of issues and they both hate it. its also the relationship between two brits with like. sixty miles of space between their birthplaces. theyre like. they're.

cas is still not over the loss of rex and hes still not forgiving ty for said loss but hes now stuck in a position where tys trying to manipulate him but the only context for that he has is rex's attempts to manipulate him-- so like ALL of his dialogue recounting the compound (and pretty much all the shit he says to tys face) is like 'ty tried to get me to do something today. it's ridiculous hes SO fucking sloppy at this, goddamn. my ex husband dedicates four years to that and ty thinks he can do it in twenty minutes? no fucking way dude get outta here. get some class.' but also that very quickly morphs into 'hm. is this betteridge guy.. flirting with me?' bc his contexts for love are Not Insane particularly in the context of rex. and thus begins the worst kismesistude ever bc its up to argument whether either of them are actually engaging in said kismesistude or just actually hate the other. insane really. off the charts.

cas most certainly is not tys favourite dude to torment. hes also not his least favourite. hes not even his pet project. this is probably to do with the fact that cas knows if he actually lets the afformentioned torment get to him then he techincally wont have the appeal of. you know, his cas-iness. the ability to play the afformentioned 4d chess. his survival instincts. all of that. so every time he gets tormented he just uses it as an excuse to get more silly abt shit until ty gives up on that particular line of enquiry

i mean what are you gonna do, kill the people he cares about? nice try sucker you're just saving cas a job at this point /hj

so eventually hes like okay betteridge you want me to do shit?? uhh heres a tactic rex never tried. um. pay me a living wage, asshole. i literally will do anything for $25 an hour. you didnt even need to chop my fingers off or anything. cmon. cough up.

and then he actually fucking does the jobs ty gets him to do. insane really x2. worlds worst boss/employee relationship ever. what the fuck guys.

[sunfish-exotics]

General rambles (both about reptiles & life & art)

Hey guys! I apologize for not being super active / responsive lately, I’ve been really busy getting prepped for brumating snakes / next season, moving lots of cages and animals around, and OH yeah this show this weekend lol

Yeah! I’ll be there with western hognoses, leopard geckos, art, and a couple gently used AP cages. That’s pretty much it for the reptiles portion of today’s ramblings with sunfish so I’m gonna put the rest below a cut

In life news I’ve really been doing some serious thinking about what I want and how to achieve those goals. I was bouncing around the idea of going back to school (FOR ART!) Which is something I’ve never attempted at a higher-education level. Long story short I don’t think full time university would be a good option for me for both financial and time commitment reasons. I would have to do TWO full years of general art classes before I could even apply for a BFA program and that’s really just not realistic for me. Instead I’m going to be taking some enrichment classes at one of the local community colleges, some online courses, and developing my own curriculum to really COMMIT to being a full-time artist. I’d be able to keep a part time job during this in addition to my reptile stuff so finances wouldn’t be too bad and I could continue my house down-payment savings.

Some things to look forward from me if you’re into my artwork!

-> Starting a youtube channel to document my growth and experiences as someone not pursuing an art degree / trying to make self-driven schooling work, and share just generalized art content

->Creating an instagram account just for art (reels! posts! curated content!)

->Really working hard to bring new products to my Etsy, redbubble, etc

->Expanding into other online art marketplaces

-> MAYBE look into streaming? I’ve tried and I don’t think my existing internet / computer setup has enough POWER to handle really dedicated streaming but it may be something to look into investing in if there’s enough interest.

-> EVENTUALLY a patreon with a sticker of the month club, maybe enamel pin club, that kind of thing. I have PLANS!

I’m not going to like... spam my channel / instagram or anything on this tumblr. I’ll probably make an announcement when they’re up and running but after that just try to create something from scratch!

If any of yall are making it work as full time artists (or even part time artists!) I’d love to chat about your experiences and if you have any advice, please don’t hesitate to send me a dm! I’m really nice lmao I know I can come off as intimidating to people who don’t know me well ;-;

That’s all for now!

[theoldaeroplane]

jouwnaling

had a really, really nice day yesterday, was just in a lovely mood all day. I think it may have been related to the fact I did not get high the night before, so I'm going to try to test that theory and dial my usage down. I really enjoy weed and think it has a lot of benefits, especially for neurodivergent folk, but I'm recognizing that I used it as a way to cope with my situations last year. I'd like to wean myself off it a bit and be more present now that my life is starting to not suck. Still gonna keep it around for fun and really bad ruminating though. Weed makes it so much easier for me to hang out with people in person for a long time, and to go into overstimulating spaces.

Been having tons of fun rotating my version of Link in my brain for Antebellum (the WIP name of my LoZ fic). He has so many problems. He is a dumb motherfucker. I'm also consciously putting a lot of things I've been struggling with into this story, both to process them for myself and to give the fic, you know, that extra layer of authenticity, relatability? It's nice, I'm excited to be excited again. I'm gonna fuck up that elf boy so bad.

Had my second yoga class last night, it was nice. I'm not sure if I can afford to keep going but I'm going to try to. In a way it feels silly to pay for something I could technically do for free at home with a YouTube video, but I think the atmosphere makes a significant enough difference to be worth paying for.

Finally made a vet appointment for the dog. She needs her shots and I can't put off the fact she needs dental surgery any longer.

I really, really need to reopen commissions, but I still feel burned out on art. I'm trying to make some adoptables and YCHs as a middle ground. Haven't had a lot of success there yet. That said, I've been putting a lot of my energy into cleaning up my house and taking care of myself. The house is coming along really well, and hopefully soon I'll have it leveled out enough to make it a nicer space for my creative endeavors.

I applied for another job this week, one totally out of my field and experience: house cleaning. It's not something I'd ever considered, but I found the listing by chance and it occurred to me that a job where I just clean and listen to podcasts sounds like heaven. Especially for my autistic ass. No constant stream of customers. No dress shirts. No repeatedly explaining terms and price sheets. Just show up and clean. I'm sure such a job has its own frustrations (hard on the body, exceptionally gross houses, telling people when something is not in my job description, driving a lot), but, like. My current job---while I genuinely like a lot of the work, and I really love my boss and coworkers---the customer service aspect is killing me, the dress code brings back bad memories, and even though I'm working full time (over full time, even, I'm there 8:30-5 because I take a thirty minute lunch break) I'm not making enough to fully support myself. I keep getting sent home early because there's nothing for me to do, and my boss is only a regional manager and has been very forthcoming with the fact I am already at the absolute highest end of the payscale for my position without taking on more responsibilities.

The fact that I can be working full time and still have to rely on a side hustle, and even THEN can't put anything aside for savings, is awful. I can't do more hours, I can't take on more responsibilities, and I can't get a second job. Any of those things would seriously compromise my mental health and I have to take care of myself. I've always dreaded it when I'm asked to take on more responsibilities at my jobs. I don't want advancement, I don't want to manage anyone (I can barely manage myself!), I don't give a shit what my title is. I want to do my work really well, get paid, and go home.

And the cleaning job, at the absolute lowest end, still pays about 5k more per year than my current position.

So, currently, yeah, housecleaning sounds like a dream job. Show up. Clean. Leave. Repeat. The company in question also has glowing employee reviews on Glassdoor, with the worst things being "could pay better" and "sometimes there's favoritism." I don't have any qualms about """being a maid""" on like a social level or whatever. I like the idea that I would be making a tangible difference for individuals, instead of printing out hundreds of advertising mailers that are going to go directly into the trash. I finding cleaning very satisfying. I like the idea of not sitting around bored because there's no customers and nothing to do and I'm not allowed to have my phone out, and then getting sent home early so I miss out on half my pay for that day. And so much less masking! My god! It sounds like paradise!

The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, but sometimes that's because it really is better grass.

So. Hoping to hear back about that soon. I filled out a questionnaire thing for them yesterday that seemed like it was basically checking to see if I was a narcissistic sociopath or not. I have a weekend without any Special Events happening for the first time in like a month, just my tabletop games and my volunteer work. My clothes and bedding are all washed, I got most of the dog piss smell out of the carpet from when I was too exhausted to take her out often enough, and I cut my hair. I have a writing project again. I've been making new friends and reconnecting with old ones. I adore going out to the barn every saturday. My therapist says I'm doing really, really well. Everything's coming up Corgi, for now. Fingers crossed :)