#i feel like shit for complaining about my inconvenience the past couple of days

[welcometohighwater]

now that i’ve been able to really hook up to power for a bit (my brother’s house got it restored) and take a look at the news? jesus. yeah counties in the upstate had 100% power outages, but wnc. my god. asheville, yeah, but also the more special little places, hendersonville, lake lure, chimney rock, boone. they’re gone. those people have lost everything and more. i still can’t find out as much as i want because still no wifi but what i have seen is so, so much worse than i realized. we’re still waiting too to hear from my uncle about his home (fortunately i guess they were out of town, so at least they’re safe)

[anaalnathrakhs]

auuuurgh

i feel so fucking bad. i want to do things so badly but there's always the looming threat of my parents waking up eventually. they'll be awake and doing stuff when i wake up if i go to sleep. scheduling driving lessons feels so fucking complicated cuz they have to be like a month in advance at least. and i have no idea how i'll be in a month. and things might happen. and it feels scary to plan for the future. i miss sports so bad but everything feels so complicated. the bouldering gym costs money. i went and it was... okay but i started feeling like a goldfish going in circles after like one go. the bike pump is cooked bc we havent used it in many years (cuz we live up a FUCKING HILL i fucking hate you) and both my bike and my dad's are deflated as fuck. the municipal bike rental in my city costs money and it's not covered by the bus subscription. i don't have the roller skills for going down this MOTHERFUCKING HILL with them, nor navigate the MANY hills in my town. i got to swim a couple times recently and it just felt so small. i miss being a kid and actually having fun. enjoying the things i did. i can't do two miserable pullups without my brain screaming at me that my life is worthless and everything is boring and feed me a bottle of vodka and two months of restrictive behavior lest you'll never feel happiness again. school is difficult but rewarding and im doing my best. living with my parents is making me wish i could fucking poison their coffee in the morning. guess which has mandatory breaks and which im obligated to handle as soon as i come home, and on days off, and on holidays, and every fucking time they want to talk to me and do things with me. holy shit. i get it. you were sooooooo vewy sad uwu when i was more solitary, and now you're sooooooo glad i've finally learned to shut the fuck up (most of the time) and participate in your activities! awesome for you! then why do you fucking complain when the very real consequences of catering my life to please you poses you an inconvenience? holy shit i'm doing my best, i'm trying to be what you wanted because i KNOW i was a difficult child all my life and i don't want you to struggle any more than necessary now that i can do what you expect of me. are you not happy. sorry i can't be fucking perfect. sorry i'm so horrible and bitter-hearted that i can't enjoy normal things like family meals and spending time with you.

"our relationship isn't only problem-management" FOR YOU MAYBE IT ISNT. my entire fucking LIFE has been problem-management. why did you have a kid if you weren't prepared for it to struggle? why didn't you take half a look at dad's childhood, or my uncle's childhood, and understand that there was going to be some problem-management to do. i would've liked a little less being dragged to amusement park trips and out of the country vacations, and a little more help for my mental health. maybe it wasn't all problem-management to YOU because you halfassed a quick bandaid on it and then left me to manage it however i could. i know it's a very complicated situation with no breakage-free outcome, and i don't know if i would've done it better had i been in your shoes, but 1st of all THAT'S WHY I NEVER WANT TO HAVE CHILDREN AND IF I EVER THINK ABOUT IT YOU CAN KNOCK ME OUT AND TAKE THE GONADS AWAY, and 2nd of all i wish you would stop insisting i have no reason to not trust your help or ask you for help nowadays. not only you have repeatedly not helped or made it worse in the past, but you have kept doing that recently. which i understand, i am older and you do not owe me massive changes for something i can take actions on myself, but then obviously i'm not going to keep asking you for help with the same problem and asking for the same solutions. stop telling me i need to resolve it I KNOW IM WORKING ON IT. and yeah sorry i don't want to shift the whole blame of communication troubles on you, because god knows i suck at that, but you have to understand that "but you didn't say anything at the time :(" is not an argument. i was barely 13. i didn't voice an anxiety i had about something i hadn't tried yet. then i spent four days calling you on the phone begging you to help me out, the entire weekend from the second you came back for me friday evening to sunday before going to sleep begging you to not make me go back, and you still said "lol no you're not gonna give up this easily". and you tell me that, again, as if i was supposed to have said something earlier (when it was preemptive anxiety that could've ended up being unfounded) and then you'd have been all cool and dandy with it and not made me go?????? just admit i have reasonable reasons to not trust you to offer executive help on my problems it's alright i'm 18 you don't have any obligations anymore.

it's so fucked up i'm so fucked up. i havent been normal a single second of my life. i was kinda going beyond the need to be explicitely invited to everything, cuz i thought that it was kinda irrational of me and that most people would just tell me if i started going to far. but then i act weird anyway and my friends dont say anything at the time and then rib me about it later on, and i just have no fucking idea what i should and shouldn't do anymore. i dont want to put any pressure on my friends because we're all fucked up and full of irrational and raw maladapted behaviors, we're all mentally ill and not even fully young adults, and i want to do my best to extend the olive branch anytime i can, which they also often do for me, but then i don't know what to do, am i validating something that does more harm than good? how do i bring it up without hurting them and making everything worse? i don't know what people expect of me, i don't know what people want out of me, i don't know what i want out of people, i don't know what's good.

i've read that essay about hippie subcultures and drug culture, "mind openness" and ego death and how it could be reached without drugs and how straights who do LSD still won't get it. and i'm gonna be honest, i've never done hallucinogenics, i've never even experienced hallucinations, i don't want to make a faulty comparison, but a lot of it really resonated with what i felt when i was in permanent calories deficit. i felt depressed and anxious sometimes but also so often the world felt beautiful. peaceful. i could fucking sleep. i could enjoy the moment. fucking meditate even. i feel like i'm going mad. i want to go back so badly. god i remember when i started binging/eating a maintenance amount of cals again. it was so bad it felt so fucking painful to feel like nothing was enough AGAIN.

im tired i think im gonna manage going to sleep. every day i hope it's the day i can fall back into restrictive patterns again.

[sclfcare]

" that's your opinion . " like a startled turtle , she's retracting back into her shell . giving him crumbs because she's already offered so much of herself up freely . kylie felt like a fucking fool for thinking she was different . at the end of the day , lucas only cares about lucas . he's a damn good actor , though . she'll give him that ─── really had her buying into all the shit he said when his dick was inside her , how wanted in the moment he made her feel . " yeah , it was careless . i wish i could go back to that night i let you take me home and laugh in your fugly face . " if he wants to be treated like a heartless asshole , then that's the exactly what he'll get . doesn't know how he does it , how he's so effortlessly cruel . kylie is reactionary . rarely the type to get caught up in the pettiness so this grid lock of an argument with lucas has her anxiety at an all time high . " god , i really gave you way too much grace , way more than you deserve . you took advantage of my kindness , lucas . you don't get to have a second chance . " mhm . for now , until he texts me back . i asked him if he wanted to come over and talk . . . what do you think he'll say ? is this outfit okay ? " tone is mocking and full of condescension , conveying the same lack of empathy homme displayed when he callously informed of her of who's hole his cock was in last night . " why should i have kept it to myself ? are my feelings that much of an inconvenience for you or do you just possess the emotional intelligence of a fucking slug ? ─── i actually didn't know , lucas , i didn't know a damn thing about what you wanted with me . the lines got kind of blurry when i started spend every night with you . maybe you should've been a little clearer , pal . i'm not going to talk in circles , like , i just explained to you why i'm upset . . . it's not rocket science . " is purposefully taking her time as she replies back to the ex she's texting , feigning as much disinterest in lucas' complaining as she can muster . " i wouldn't've dated him if he couldn't satisfy me . you should probably leave soon , i think i am going to change ─── it'd be super awkward for you to just sit here and watch me get ready for someone other guy . " swallows back her emotion , icy stare wavering so kylie looks away , staring at her reflection in her vanity mirror , chewing on her inner cheek . " i don't want a fake apology . i wanted you to care . at least pretend that i meant anything to you , sucking your dick for the past couple of weeks aside ──── i was your fucking friend for years . "

no matter what he said, she had something to argue back with. typically, lucas wouldn't care about that, but in this instance, he found himself extremely annoyed. she was pushing his buttons more than anyone else ever dared to. " seriously ? i at least deserve you using a little bit of creativity. you're barely putting in any effort at all. " he'd never come so close to breaking until it was her that was standing in front of him. he truly hadn't felt anything for another person in his life before, but kylie was different. he never meant to feel a damn thing for her, but she'd snuck up on him. only, he was adamant on sticking to his ways. couldn't dare allow himself to become some vulnerable mess over her. he'd deny everything he felt, convince her there was nothing between them and force himself to move on and forget about this one little slip up. " it's not my fault you got careless. " words were misplaced, and he knew it. he was just far too terrified to feel something for another person, didn't want to take that kind of risk. " that's hilarious. he isn't shit and you know it. ──── go for it. fucking text him. it's not going to change the fact that he's a waste of oxygen. " didn't think she'd actually text the guy right in front of his face, and lucas was frankly pissed that she did. masked those emotions, though, fixing her with a gaze devoid of any feelings at all. " do you feel better now ? putting on your little display ? hmm ? " he'd never had this much trouble pushing anyone away before, but she was apparently the exception to a lot of rules he'd set for himself. no other girl had ever stayed the night with him before, he was always sending them away or slipping out of their beds if he was at their place. " you should've just kept that shit to yourself, kylie. we wouldn't be in this fucking mess right now if you had. you knew i didn't want anything serious. i was perfectly fucking fine with how things were going before. you knew that we weren't exclusive . . . so i just don't get why you're so upset. " glanced over at her phone, irritation flooding him all over again. of course that asshole responded to whatever she sent him. " that him already ? huh ? you know he's never gonna satisfy you. " he wouldn't concede defeat, no matter how much he hated this entire situation. " i'm not pretending. i don't feel anything for you. it's not my fault you lost control of your own feelings, kylie. what the fuck do you expect me to do ? apologize ? "

[sunpopp]

Warm to The Touch | {CCH}

→ Summary; it's not often that Chanhee gets sick, but when he does, he's a very big crybaby about it. That, or he really is in as much pain as he says he is—regardless that leaves you to take care of him, and funnily enough, it has its perks.

• WC/genre: 2K of smut + fluff

• Includes/cw: Chanhee being sick and reader taking care of him, no kissies on lips 😔, sub!Chanhee, gn!reader, fingering (m receiving), dick neglection (?), handjobs, brief praise, aftercare

Riding the bus wasn't your favorite thing to do, but it was soothing if you were in the right mood.

Sadly, you weren't. Mostly due to the fact that Chanhee was quite literally blowing up your phone with texts asking how much longer it'd take you to be off the train and on your way with his precious medicine, making you sigh and roll your eyes before shooting him a reply that you'd be there soon, but knowing nothing would calm him down until you were in front of him to prove it.

You can't help but smile.

Chanhee didn't complain much about anything, besides maybe you not helping him with washing the dishes or set the table while he made dinner, but everything else was, at most, a dirty look that softened relatively quickly. Sickness, though, was a whole other ballgame.

He would rant and rave about the tiniest of phantom pains, practically on the male equivalent of his period with the way his mood would get snappy and sour at the slightest inconveniences.

But maybe he really did just have a shit pain tolerance like he'd often hint at. Though it didn't stop you from still being baffled when he'd get a bad cramp in the middle of the night and whine about it until he'd fall asleep again.

Coming back to reality as you glance up to the bus's nearing destination, you stretch lazily and begin to stand, muscles aching from walking all day and back cracking loud enough for you to wonder if other people heard it. The bus slows to a stop before finally lurching against the sidewalk, and you take your leave through the opening doors with an appreciative thanks to the driver.

Almost immediately after you hop down from the steps, a layering of chilly wind washes harshly against your front and the familiar smell of petrichor into your nose, relentless rain droplets against your coat as you begin in a jog in the direction of your apartment. Chanhee must be freezing right now, you think, concern growing even heavier at the visible breaths of air you let out. If he's already got the sniffles, a sore throat, and headaches, he's probably getting worse considering you'd forgotten to turn the heater on before you left.

Stupid mistake.

It takes maybe a couple more minutes, less than it'd take if you were walking like normal, before you're finally at your door, punching in the code for the lock before shouldering it open and kicking off your shoes on the shoe rack. It's cold inside, you can tell by the way your cheeks still feel numb.

"Chanhee! I got your medicine!" Your words echo throughout the hall, spreading out when you keep calling his name as you move farther in; past the open kitchen and to the bedroom door opposite the bathroom.

When you come into the room, Chanhee is still in the bed where he was when you left, but this time, he's sat up, looking at you with hooded eyes and a thin sheen of sweat covering his face. He frowns, "It's about time. While I was here suffering, you were out with your friends. Unbelievable..," he pouts and shakes his head.

With a chuckle and now eased posture, you sit in front of him and set the bag of medicine beside you to check his temperature. He's extremely hot.

"Yeah, well, staying around you while you're sick is enough to drive me crazy so you can't really pin the blame on me for needing to leave. Plus, it's not like you tried to stop me, did you?" You smile at him, standing back up to go run him a lukewarm bath.

"I was asleep!"

"Your problem, not mine!"

___

"Alright, up you go."

"Ah, but my whole body hurts..."

"Too bad, you're sweating a bunch and you haven't done anything to clean yourself yet."

Another tug of Chanhee's hands, and he's stumbling into your arms with a raspy groan at the jerky movement. You pat his back, pecking his damp forehead, then drag him to the bathroom.

"Can you undress yourself or do you need my help with everything?" You half-joke.

"Don't be rude, it's actually hard for me to do a lot of things," Chanhee utters bitterly, but he does manage to pull his shirt over his head, albeit with your help, as well as his pants and boxers before stepping into the water.

"Or maybe you're just fragile as hell and the smallest things have you bedridden for a week."

"Oh my god I'm gonna-"

"Hush, princess, you won't do anything," you find yourself laughing as you lower yourself to your knees beside the tub, folding your arms on the side before resting your cheek atop them, "Just relax, okay? I know you're too tired to argue right now, so let yourself calm down for a couple."

He thankfully doesn't protest, and takes your advice for once; letting himself fall against the back of the bathtub and close his eyes, the sigh through his nose an indication that he's allowing himself to enjoy the water. He looks so peaceful like this. Doll-like eyelashes fluttering against smooth, heated cheeks, and head slowly lolling to face you.

You feel yourself reach out. You know it's happening, but you don't stop it when you run a hand through Chanhee's bangs, then swipe a thumb past his eyelid to trail to his nose, then lips.

He opens his eyes, but doesn't say anything, even if he probably finds it strange. He lets you touch him.

"You're very pretty," you mumble whilst pouring water onto his head using the wash bucket on the back surface of the bathtub. Drops trickle down into mini patterns on his face, and he drags a hand over it to clear them away.

"Even while sick?" He raises his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised at your answer.

You comb the water into his hair to wet it as you nod, "Even while sick."

Chanhee smiles, "So, how was your day out?"

"It was nice. Found a perfect place where I'd love to take you, actually."

"Oh? Where?"

"The bone zone-"

"Oh my god, you're so annoying!"

You erupt into a fit of laughter as Chanhee swats a hand at you, getting some of your shirt and arm wet where you shield yourself from his little attack. You pinch his cheek, flashing a toothy grin, "Oh, come on! That was a good one and you know it. Smooth as ever if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, and you're the only one saying so," He pouts, pulling away from your pinchy fingers and trying his best to hide the steadily growing smirk that threatens to break his face into a smile. Stubborn as always, you see.

"You can leave now," Chanhee gives you a pointed look.

"Alright, alright. I'll be in the bedroom awaiting any further commands, your highness," You shake your head, and make a grand display of leaving the room and him to his own privacy.

Chanhee doesn't take long in the bath anyway, so you knew you wouldn't have to wait long as you fall back against the bed, shifting around until you've made yourself comfortable against the strewn navy covers. You spare a glance out the window pressed against your side; still raining, and still bathed in a silver glow from the blanketing clouds. It'd make you kind of sad, if not melancholic, but you were in a good mood from coming home, so at the most, you were calm.

Calm, even when Chanhee emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam a half hour later, only wearing a pink striped button up pajama shirt and matching bottoms, hands raised above his head whilst he dries his hair with a small towel. He comes to a stop in front of you.

"There he is," you exclaim, looking up from your phone and patting the spot next to you with a mischievous glint in your eye, "C'mere."

"I wonder why I'm hesitating," he says, and you can practically feel the the sarcasm in his words.

"Because hot people make you nervous? Duh."

"Are you insinuating that you're hot?"

That's your queue.

Leaning forward, you grab Chanhee's wrist and tug him into your chest, causing him to stumble slightly, but you catch him and pull him flush against you. A flurry of kisses to his face, excluding his lips, ensue.

Chanhee squirms around in your arms and acts like he doesn't like the affection at first, but a few more seconds of the same treatment prove true to his soft side when he goes limp and begins to giggle at the ticklish feel of your butterfly pecks.

Oh, that giggle. How you loved to hear it; sweet and beautiful like the chime of the prettiest bell in your ears.

You pull him on top of you as you relax against the crevice where the mattress meets the wall, and rest your cheek on the top of his head, humming, "You saying that I'm not hot?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Kidding."

"No you weren't."

"Yes I was."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"You- Hush!" Chanhee covers your mouth finally and you chuckle against his palm at his feeble attempt to silence you.

You press a kiss to it instead of bickering further, causing him to soften. Just then, you realize something as you touch down his wrist.

"Woah, has your fever not died down at all? You're even starting to sweat a little bit again, too..."

Your suspicions prove true when a closer inspection at the ruddy skin flushed from his cheeks down to his chest and heavier-than-normal breathing indicates that he's still hot, or at least overheated.

"Here," you murmur, already shifting him on his back so you can easily unclasp the buttons of his shirt, "Are you in any pain or is it still just the sore throat?"

"The headache I had earlier is starting to come back. It's getting worse, but that's about it so don't worry, I'll be fine," Chanhee tries his hand at reassurance, you can tell, but it doesn't do anything to stop you from crawling over him to scurry into the kitchen.

"I'm getting you some water, hang on!" You call out from down the hall, making quick work of filling up a decently sized glass before you return to him with some painkillers as well. He barely manages to sit up when you reach him; his face scrunching at the obvious pain that's beginning to hit him tenfold as he gratefully takes the pills and throws his head back when he tosses them in his mouth, chasing them with the cold glass of water you provided.

"Ah, it's actually really starting to hurt...," Chanhee whimpers and at the sound, you slide back into the bed to pepper his face with pecks once again. He's grateful for the comfort, if the way he gently drapes his arm over your shoulder says anything.

"Oh, my poor baby," you coo lowly, feeling the goosebumps on his back that prickle at your tone, "Is there anything I can do to make it better? Did you already take your medicine?"

"Yeah.. still hurts.."

"I can tell," you snort and trail a finger down Chanhee's sternum, looping it back up to flick at one of his nipples. He jolts, and you can't help but give a cheeky smirk, "Even your nipples have taken on somewhat of a hue. I wonder what other places are doing the same thing...," your words would hold suggestion to even the most clueless of people, spoken through lips now slicked with saliva as you roll your tongue across the tinted flesh and lower your head for a taste of his exposed breast.

"Ah!" Chanhee gasps loudly and his fingers find purchase on the back of your head, his body trembling when he arches his chest up into your face, searching for more when his mouth fails to ask you such a favor.

Teasing his nipple with a gentle nip before pulling away to kiss it instead, you caress his narrow waist, "You said it hurts, no?"

"It does...," Chanhee pants and nods as fast as his throbbing head will allow him.

"Where does it hurt most, baby? Tell me," You wet your fingers with a quick swipe of your tongue then reach under his lower half to slide your hand into his shorts, Chanhee helping you by taking one leg out, and glide down the seam of his ass to tease his rim, "Here?"

"Y-yes..!" you chuckle when he huffs and flings both arms around your head, pulling you close into him and meeting your forehead as he grinds down against your digits.

"Awe, look at you..."

And look at him indeed; Chanhee is already a mess before you. Staring at you with those big watery doe eyes of his, and silently pleading for you to continue doing things to his body that has him feeling like bursting.

You give him exactly what he wants.

Pushing your finger into him, slowly due to how tight the fit is, you press sloppy kisses to the underside of his jaw. The reaction Chanhee gives is a familiar one, with sensual lips dropped open to let out a high-pitched moan and legs trembling as he holds them open for you, fighting to not shut his eyes upon feeling you enter him.

"Good," you drawl, tilting your wrist at an angle once your index and pinkie meet the backs of Chanhee's thighs and gently curling your fingers upwards, "Just like that, baby. Is this okay? Are you okay?" Your eyes search his face for discomfort, and though you don't find any, you still your movements.

He nods and nuzzles against the top of your head with his cheek, "Mm-hm. Keep going, please."

You start back up at his polite request, as much as you love hearing him ask for more of something, and begin to drag the pads of your fingers back and fourth alongside his walls until you feel the telltale firmness of his prostate, then start on massaging it.

"Ah!" He emits a short, melodical whine at the burst of sensation now seething within him. It drives him one step from crazy as he scrunches his face and unconsciously slaps at your shoulder in a sort of mid-euphoria result.

You huff out a half-laugh, sitting back on your knees so you can get a better view of what you're doing, "Good?"

Chanhee tries to use his words, but by the way you pin him down to the bed with a palm flat against his collarbone before speeding up your hand, he can only manage a broken sob. It's followed by another of the same needy type, but this time, it's louder and causes your stomach to all but flip at the sound. Chanhee throws his head back, thrashing this way and that to somewhat get away from the overwhelming feeling, but also pushing down against it at the same time; all the while your hand keeps him in place.

"I'll take that as a yes," you jest, mostly to yourself because Chanhee sure isn't listening, then bend down slightly to finally turn your focus to his weeping cock. It's full-blooded from being hard for so long, angry red at the tip and jumping every once in a while, especially when you open your mouth to lick a strip from the base to the head.

"P-please I can't! You're gonna make me cum!" Chanhee rushes to sit up, but you push him back down as soon as he tries. He looks absolutely horrified at being so close already.

"And what's the problem with that?"

"I-I just- I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh, baby," You take your hand from his chest in favor of jerking him off, which he all but chokes at, "It doesn't disappoint me at all. I find it very hot, actually."

"Plea-ease..! Oh!" Chanhee wails one final time before he lets go all over your hand.

It covers your knuckles, dripping white down the side of your thumb as you keep stroking him to help him ride it out. The orgasm must've hit him hard, you think when you look up to see Chanhee shuddering in time with the aftershocks that zap his body every few seconds, eyes closed and skin dewy with a sheen of perspiration.

"Hey, come back to me. You alright? Does your head still hurt?"

He takes a moment to open his eyes, but when they roll open and find your face, he does something that catches you off-guard. He latches himself onto your front, straddling your lap, and rests his head over your shoulder with a sigh.

"Chanhee, hang on a bit, my hand's still dirty and I need to clean you up-"

"In a second. I'm tired."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Mm, I don't feel like talking right now."

"... You are such a handful."

@vanillaknj @stealerhwa1

[shutupanakin]

Wasting Your Time ch.1

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

crossposted on ao3 here

Tommy stared at the yellow line, centimeters away from his feet. The announcement of the incoming train ringing in his ears, feeling the approachment of the vehicle vibrate the concrete under his feet. He forced his head up, glaring at the incoming lights.

Tommy squinted. He threw a glance at the only other person waiting on the 11:25 pm train— a little old lady, Tommy was sure that he had at least a foot on her. Her wrinkled hand clutched a brown cane, the other one on her ruby red purse.

Tommy would hate to inconvenience her.

Tommy stepped a few inches back, safely behind the yellow line. The train slowed to a stop, waiting a few moments before the metal doors pulled open in front of him, clicking with a metallic sound. There were a few stragglers at the front, where the elder woman had gotten, and a couple sitting in the midsection. Tommy ducked his head and grabbed a seat at the back.

Tommy threw his feet up on the empty seat next to him, resting the back of his head against the warm glass. Another few seconds and the doors hissed shut. The train pulled away, the lights in the tunnel buzzing past him.

Tommy mentally tallied how many people were in here with him; the three at the front, with the elder woman who was with him on the platform, and the couple. Six people who’s nights he could've possibly ruined. Delaying a train at this time of night would be rude.

Sam would be sleeping, he had morning classes that he couldn't afford to stay up late for. When Tommy slipped out of their flat his older brother had been snoring away peacefully in his room. The thought of Sam makes Tommy pick at a loose thread on his jacket, pulling it with his fingernail. He didn’t want to think about Sam right now.

Tubbo would be up, definitely. His absent sleep schedule sucked. He was probably in a discord call with Ranboo, talking or playing CSGO or messing around in Minecraft , he didn’t know. On a normal night he’d probably be with them. Laughing so hard and loud that it makes the neighbor's dogs bark. Falling over in his chair… and Sam would sleep right through it, like he always did.

Wasn’t exactly a “normal” night, though.

Honestly, he hasn’t had a normal night in a while. Tubbo, often Ranboo, would text him; “wanna play?” Or “why aren’t you in vc?” And Tommy would reply, “sorry, don’t feel like playing”, or,”can’t, got a bunch of homework.” Sometimes that wasn’t a lie. Then, Tubbo just stopped asking. And of course, Tommy couldn’t blame him, it hurt, yeah, but Tommy unintentionally ghosted them.

He just couldn't stand to be in that call, after the last few times. Tubbo and Ranboo giggling at each other, poking fun with inside jokes that Tommy didn’t understand. Little moments like those would have Tommy faking a yawn and saying goodnight. He didn’t want to ruin their fun.

Tommy’s phone buzzed, the little bit of reception that he got down here snapping him back to his current reality. The train had stopped at the next station, the couple standing and the old woman following. Tommy’s eyes followed them as they left, debating if he should follow. Another buzz. Tommy turned his attention back to his phone.

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

Toommy

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

do u wanna play Terraria

His fingers started typing, beginning a message, but shook his head, shoving his phone back in his pocket. His activity on discord was already invisible. Tommy didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t want his last possible text to Tubbo to be something as simple as a turndown to play a game.

A thump from across Tommy startled him, the cause of the sound being a man with a mess of curly brown hair mirroring his position across the aisle. His leg up and arm resting on the top of the seat. Brown eyes framed with round glasses met Tommy’s.

"Got any booze, kid?” The train was pulling away.

For no particular, definitely unrelated reason, Tommy wished that he had just gotten off.

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

The man waved his hand, leaning forward. “Fucking— stop that! You are annoying.”

Tommy grinned, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” He said, pocketing the pen. “and you are a loser.”

The man gasped in a show of dramatics. Bringing his arm up to his forehead, the brown fabric of his coat covering his eyes. “Oh, woe me, the tragedy, meeting my end to a child!”

Tommy scowled. “You’re a real prick.”

The older man didn’t falter, continuing his tirade. “Poor, poor me. All thy’ve ever wantedth was thy vodka.”

Tommy didn’t know why he egged this on. He could pull out his earbuds and tune out his nonsense until Tommy or him got off the train, whichever was coming first. “Your Shakespeare sucks,” Tommy grunted. “ Wantedth isn’t a word, bitch.”

“Then you know Shakespeare?”

Quickly, Tommy shook his head. “Absolutely not. None of that nerd shit. I just paid enough attention in Lit to know you’re a fucking moron.”

His eyes narrowed at Tommy, or more so, what he was wearing. “What sport do you play?”

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up, what made him ask that? “Pardon?”

He groaned, rolling his shoulders. “Your jacket, you insolent toddler,” He gestured vaguely at Tommy. “what sport?”

Tommy looked down, glancing at the red thread he was picking at earlier. “Oh,” That came out quieter than Tommy wanted, a whisper. “it’s my brothers,” There was Tommy’s voice. “Got it when he was visiting the states.” Tommy shook his head, brushing the thought of Sam away. “And my names Tommy, dickhead.”

The complete ass, he had the audacity to hum at him . “Wilbur Soot,”

Tommy scoffed. “That’s a stupid fucking name.”

“You are a child.” Wilbur chided, there was no true heat behind his words.

Tommy shrugged. “You’re a bitch.”

Another stop, Tommy tallied that as the third one; another stop he hadn’t gotten off at. This wasn’t meant to be a trip, he remembered. The ticket, which sat folded in his pants pocket, was one way. Tommy had bought it out of... what was it? Courtesy? He hadn’t intended to survive long enough for the ticket collectors to come around.

Excuses. Excuses, that’s what this was. Tommy was making excuses, simple as that. He wanted to go through with this, he was sure of it. He’d thought about this for weeks, planned this out for days, he figured out which day and which time of night would have the least people. But there were still people, there was the old lady and couple who had gotten off earlier and the four people at the front and the—

Well, there was Wilbur Soot, who for whatever damned, unknown reason, had sat down across from Tommy. Now Tommy was stuck with him until either of them get up and leave. He silently wondered who would go first.

No one had gotten on, or left. The train moved on.

“So uh, where—“ Tommy stumbled, swallowing. “Where you headed?”

Wilbur shrugged, Tommy furrowing his eyebrows. "Nowhere in particular, just felt like getting on. You?”

The fuck did that mean? Tommy thinks. “So you just... got on, no reasoning. Just like that?”

“Just like that. You didn’t answer the question.” Tommy groaned. Tommy was edging back to wanting to punch his stupid face.

“Not when you answer so vaguely,” Tommy cried. “I’m not going anywhere in particular either, for your information.”

“Really?” Wilbur pushed, incredulously. Like he had the right to be skeptical.

“Really.” Honestly, who did this irritable dickhead think he was? Tommy shuffled, folding his arms. Maybe he will get off at the next stop, he won’t ever have to ever see the enraging presence that was Wilbur Soot and his stupid Reagan and Bush sweater again.

Reagan, Reagan… that was an American President, right? The more and more he observed the man, it could be concluded without a doubt that he was a loser. Not only that, but an irritable one. An irritable loser. What a fate, worse than death. He’d say it was a cursed existence, if you asked Tommy.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably, becoming too aware of the hard plastic seat underneath him. “I just needed to get out tonight. Don’t know why.”

Wilbur rapped his knuckles against the window, in a rhythm that Tommy didn’t recognize. “Running from something? School? Parents?” He grinned. “Girlfriend?”

Tommy’s face twisted in disgust. “I— no no no. To all of those! Down the list, no, no, and no. ”

“Running to something then?” You could word it like that. Tommy frowned, decidedly not answering. “What, were you gonna jump then?”

Tommy knew that Wilbur was joking, but he couldn’t help the way he flinched. “I wasn’t going to jump, bitch— do you do this to every stranger you meet on the rails? Interrogate them for their life story?”

Wilbur pointed his index finger towards the front of the train. “They would not care, you know,”

Tommy’s mouth was dry. “What?”

“Them,” Wilbur gestured. “everyone, they would complain about the delay, they— they would be at best inconvenienced. At worst angry at you .”

“You’re real emo, you know,” Tommy deadpanned. “A right gothic.”

“I prefer poet,” Wilbur corrected. “I am not wrong though, the people here, no sympathy. No empathy. Just inconvenienced.”

“You’re inconveniencing me.” Tommy expressed.

“Because you were going to jump?”

“ Oh —“ Tommy snapped. “That’s none of your business! Stop trying to psychoanalyze me you pretentious prick, what I came down here to do is none of your busin—“

“So you were going to? That is what you came down here to do?”

Whatever battle they were fighting, Tommy was losing, and he was exasperated . “Oh, so, what if I was? Why do you care?”

“Come on,” Wilbur said, swinging his legs over the seat and standing up. How his legs weren’t asleep, Tommy didn’t know. Tommy hit his asleep leg, silently cursing it.

“Wha’?” Tommy asked, narrowing his eyes. “What makes you think I wanna get off with you?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Well, I have nowhere to go, and you have nowhere to go, and to be honest this is getting depressing. And, I would rather not leave a possible suicidal teenager alone. Also, I know a store outside this station.”

Tommy groaned. “Oh no,” He said. “I’m being kidnapped. No, stop, someone help please.” He stood up, shaking the static like feeling out of his left leg. Begrudgingly following Wilbur when the sliding doors pulled open. “Is this the part where your gang comes around the corner in a white van and shoves me in?”

“I don’t have enough friends for that.” Wilbur insisted, leading Tommy up the concrete stairs of the station. Tommy couldn’t help his smile. “I believe you.” Wilbur blew air out his nose, hopefully in amusement.

Tommy checked his phone, the bright light illuminating his face as he and Wilbur stepped out of the tunnel. 12:22 am stared back at him, along with a few more texts from Tubbo. Tommy pocketed it.

Tommy breathed in the crisp midnight air, after almost an hour in the underground, the fresh air felt nice. The area was rural, decently lit for the middle of the night. Tommy turned to look at Wilbur. “So where we goin? Pub? Club? I don’t have a fake ID, big dubbs.”

“No,” Wilbur shook his head, starting his trekk up the hill. “Store, if you can call it that. He is open until three.”

They crossed the street before Wilbur came to a stop, tapping his foot against the ground. “This it?” Tommy asked, reading the sign. Wilbur giving a mmm hmm — in response.

JACK OF ALL TRADES

That was… lame, Tommy thought. “I can’t go in though.” Tommy double-took, stepping back.

“What do you mean you can’t go in?!” He hissed.

“Got banned.” Wilbur replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“How?”

Wilbur slapped him on the shoulder. “Story for later, my young friend. Maybe refrain from telling Jack I sent you in, though.”

Tommy huffed. “You suck.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket. “You’re not gonna ditch me here are you?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, holding up three fingers. “I swear on it.” His smile grew, eyes shining.

He sighed. “Why am I going in again?” It seemed rather pointless, to take Tommy to a store he wasn’t even allowed in. With a quick glance through the windows Tommy guessed it was some sort of gift shop, snow globes and odd looking jewelry lining their respective shelves.

Wilbur tilted his head. “Because it will give you something to do other than to ride the tube to the end of the tracks trying to make up your mind.” He answered.

“When you put it like that,” Tommy grumbled, pushing open the door, triggering the bell at the top to ring. The inside was small, and warm. It was definitely homey.

“Hello!” A heavy accented voice greeted Tommy looked up, a shaved headed man wearing a striped hoodie smiling at him. Jack, he assumed. He sat behind the counter, his legs perched up on the counter. He put down the magazine he had been reading. “What brings you here this time of night?”

Tommy’s mouth formed into a ‘o’, he didn’t expect to have to make conversation with another stranger tonight. “Oh, um,” He cringed, running his hand through his hair. “out for a walk, saw you were open.” He lied, Wilbur had said not to bring him up.

Starting to pick at the thread again, his eyes scanning over the snow globes and miniature statues. His attention fell on a bowl of pins, some were round and others were shaped. The scan bars on the back faded or scratched out.

He reached in, moving around the pins. He wasn’t really searching for anything specifically. Tommy rubbed his thumb over the bee shaped pin he had pulled out. “How much?”

“The pin?” Tommy nodded. “Two pounds.” Jack answered.

Tommy blinked. “That’s ridiculous.” He grumbled, opening his wallet. He handed it to Jack, fiddling with the bee pin.

“Have a goodnight now!” Jack called as Tommy left, stepping outside. Wilbur was there, like he said he’d be.

“Did you get banned for complaining about his obscure prices?” Tommy sneered, making Wilbur laugh. “Absolute ridiculousness.”

“What did you get?” Tommy opened his palm, showing the bee. He attached it to his jacket, the needle clicking into place.

“Jackets blank, thought it could use something.” Tommy explained, walking beside Wilbur. “I’ve been completely ripped off, though. You did this to me.”

“No no, mister Jack Manifold did that to you. Not me.” Wilbur expressed. “I merely brought you there.”

“To be scammed.” Tommy insisted.

Their walk back to the tube station was pleasantly uneventful, Tommy didn’t comment on how Wilbur got on the opposite platform they got off of. He guessed that was the sign that this night was coming to an end. They were going back in the direction they came.

Tommy silently wished that they didn’t, that they kept going. The idea of returning home was becoming less and less appealing. The robotic voice echoed through the speakers, announcing the incoming train.

Tommy resisted the urge to make a jumping joke, knowing that would earn him a smack against the head or something. So he stood behind the yellow line, Wilbur at his side. The inside had a single man, at the front alone. Tommy ignored him, hitching his seat at the back, Wilbur sitting across from him.

“This wasn’t how I planned my night, by the way,” Tommy grumbled.

“I know,” Wilbur told. “I am sure this had the better outcome though. I will make you a deal, okay?” Tommy nodded, starting to play with the edge of his sleeves. “If you can make it to the end of the week without, trying to jump in front of another train, or try to kick a chair out from underneath you—“

“That would be a really lame way to die,” Tommy interjected.

“I am giving an example, Tommy,” Wilbur huffed. “If you make it through the end of the week, come back here. Same day.”

Tommy considered it. “Same time?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Sure, although I would not recommend making a habit of sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, contemplating. This offer— there was no reason he had to take it. He could get off and never see Wilbur again, it wouldn’t change anything. The world will continue spinning, they would both move on, Wilbur would eventually forget about this strange encounter, and so would Tommy.

They stopped, again, no one getting on or off. Wilbur was still waiting for his answer. Tommy didn’t have it.

This was nice though , Tommy thought. It was nice to leave that flat, to get off his mattress. To have a reason to ignore the discord messages from Tubbo and Ranboo. He didn’t have to lay in bed, dreading going to his classes the next day, because he was occupied. He had something to do.

“Alright,” Tommy said. “I’ll take that bet, big man.”

“Deal?” Wilbur reached his hand out, Tommy leaned forward, shaking it.

“Deal,” Tommy gave a toothy smile. “I’ll try not to become a tubeline statistic until next week.”

“That is not funny,” Wilbur warned, although there was no true malice in his tone. “I will have you know statistics are no laughing matter.” Tommy barked out a laugh, the serious expression Wilbur word dropping. If the stragglers at the front were giving bewildered stares at Tommy, he didn’t notice.

“It was…” He wheezed. “It was kinda funny. If anyone gets to joke about that it’s me, alright? Isn’t that some, therapist shit or something? Using humor to cope? That’s me. I’m doing that.”

“You should try that, seeing a therapist,”

Therapy was useless, at least to Tommy. He didn’t need someone in a fancy office to tell him something was wrong with him, he knew damn well what was wrong with him. No pens, or clipboards, or uncomfortable couches, or ticking clocks and judgemental eyes will be able to tell him something that he didn’t already know.

Tommy thinks Sam knows one, or at least she’s studying to become one. A school friend that Tommy’s met maybe twice. The mere idea of dumping his shit on her, he almost felt bad! No thank you , Tommy thought. He would be avoiding that.

“Nah,” Tommy brushed it off. “I don’t do that. Don’t need that. Won’t do anything for me.”

Tommy didn’t realize how long they had been talking, because when the train slowed into a familiar station, Wilbur pulled himself up. Tommy frowned, watching the man stand next to the doors, waiting for them to pull open.

“So, see you next week Toms?” He teased.

Tommy groaned in annoyance. “We are certainly not at Toms yet, big dubbs.”

“I will get there I’m sure,” He said, stepping out. “Farewell Tommy!” He waved, Tommy’s urge to punch those stupid glasses off his face coming back.

Tommy flipped him off, watching the curly mop of brown hair disappear as the train started moving, the platform and the man with it being replaced by the cement walls.

His stop was next, he realized. Tommy would get off, he would walk home and slip into his bed and would have to pray that Sam’s heavy sleeping habits had not changed; that he hadn’t gotten up and realized that his bed was empty, or that the door was unlocked. The thought of Sam sitting there on the couch, waiting for him to enter the door like some sort of walk of shame—

Tommy quickly checked his phone, looking at the notifications. He breathed in relief, no notifications from Sam. No missed calls, no voice mails, no worried text messages; all things that would indicate Sam was awake and that he knew Tommy was out.

Shakily, Tommy stood up. The doors clicked open, waiting for him to exit. He could just keep going the other direction, he thought. He made no promise to Wilbur to return home.

Tommy stepped out, the doors hissing shut behind him. Wind bristled through his hair as the train moved again, almost taunting him. Look at me! Look what you missed!

He chose not to, though. Tommy didn’t because of a bet, and he didn’t even place money on it. A simple bet of wills was supposed to keep Tommy running till the end of the week. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t enjoy Wilburs company either, it was… nice, having someone to just talk to, to engage with. He didn’t have to raise his voice or make a scene to get him to listen to him.

He would never tell Wilbur that, though. He was fucking irritating enough.

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets, leaving the station. He’d come back, alright. If not just to prove something to Wilbur but to himself, maybe.

He really should've put money on it, though.

[pitviperofdoom]

I really liked your 'Life Preserver' excerpt and I'd love to read more about it. I liked the interaction between Gerry and Georgie, their characterization and Gerry's description of his relationship with Jon, plus this exchange: “He thinks your mum’s a homophobe, you know.”“You know, he’s probably right? Think she might just hate the idea of love in general, though.”“Messy divorce, I take it,”“Rohypnol and garden shears were involved, so yeah, I’d say it was pretty messy.”

Thanks!

Yeah, Gerry and Georgie surprised me as a really interesting dynamic to explore. In spite of Georgie’s caution around the Entities, Gerry just feels like the kind of person Georgie would get along with, given the people she canonically ends up loving.

Anyway here’s another part I’ve written! This one actually has Jon and Gerry in it.

---

When Jon went in for his next shift, things went smoothly enough to be genuinely suspicious. Tina was his desk partner again, and she greeted him with the same cordiality as always. No one official-looking ever came by to speak with him.

The only hint that anything had happened that night was a campus-wide e-mail paying respects to Daniel Lattimer, one of the subject librarians, who was reported as having “passed unexpectedly”. The message held all of the usual official platitudes and nothing else; Jon had read it word for word several times to be sure.

Someone should have known, shouldn’t they? It wasn’t as if he had been careful about covering his tracks, beyond making his tip anonymous. The library had cameras. He was sure he’d left at least a few shoe prints in all the blood.

But nothing came of it. The first hour passed peacefully, with nothing more exciting than a couple of patrons he had to inform of overdue books.

Jon spotted the familiar dark figure out of the corner of his eye, even before Tina hissed a warning at him. He raised his head to watch Gerard Keay’s approach, chest suddenly tight with nervousness.

How on earth was he supposed to explain this?

“Hey.” Gerard was in front of him already, leaning his elbows on the desk as usual. “Any word on that book? I tried to come in yesterday, but you were closed.”

“R-right.” Jon hesitated. There were several ways he could answer this. He could, of course, be utterly truthful and tell him that he’d burned the thing on account of it being made of meat and killing one of the librarians. He almost laughed at the thought. At worst, Gerard would complain to someone about Jon being unhelpful; at best, he’d find it funny, but he’d demand a real answer once he was done laughing about it.

He could lie and stall by saying that the book was still on its way. But that was a temporary fix at best, and it would only lead Gerard to keep coming in and asking.

And would that really be so bad? Jon shook his head to clear away the thought.

“Right,” he said again. “A-about that. Unfortunately—” He slipped his bandaged hand behind the desk, out of sight. “—we were unable to find the book in storage. It seems to have been marked incorrectly. It happens sometimes. Though not very often, I assure you,” he added hastily. “But it’s been marked down as missing, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.” Gerard’s face was the very picture of disappointment. “That’s a shame. Really did need that one.”

“Terribly sorry for the inconvenience.” Jon tried to sound like he meant it.

It was hard to force down the sheer, overwhelming relief. Just last night he’d regretted his own paranoia, but now? If he hadn’t gone back, if he hadn’t checked for the book…

Well, the library might not have been closed yesterday. And he didn’t have the first shift at the circulation desk. And whoever did might have been someone who didn’t know, someone who wasn’t haunted by the name Jurgen Leitner, who might have taken the book from the cart and handed it straight over—

The unwelcome memory of Mr. Lattimer’s body rose up behind his eyes, juxtaposed over the young man standing before him.

As a child, he’d doomed someone else to a gruesome death that should have been his. So maybe this time… maybe he’d actually…

“Well then,” said Gerard, shaking him out of his bubble of thoughts. “Guess that’s—er, guess I’ll look elsewhere…”

“Right,” said Jon. “Unless there was anything else you needed…?” He tried not to sound too hopeful.

“No, thanks, that’s it,” said Gerard, already turning away. “Thanks for all the help.”

“Oh, I hardly—I mean, I didn’t really do much, in the end.”

Gerard regarded him for a moment, head tilted to one side with a thoughtful look. Then, quite without warning, he smiled at him. “Don’t sell yourself short. You were great.”

“O-of course,” Jon stammered as Gerard turned to leave again. “Oh, wait—wait a moment.”

Gerard looked back. “Yeah?”

Jon dug into his pocket, pulling out the lighter. “Is this yours?” he asked, placing it on the desk. “I found it on one of the tables in the reading room, and I remembered you had it the other day…”

Instead of taking it, Gerard simply flashed him one last grin. “Keep it,” he said. “I’ve got loads.”

“It’s really not good to keep ignition sources in a library,” Jon protested, feeling inordinately flustered.

Gerard laughed, a brief, bright thing, and—

“D’you want to get coffee?” Jon blurted out.

The smile froze on Gerard’s face, before giving way to surprise. “What?”

A stab of terror nearly robbed Jon of his words, before he found his voice again and forged ahead. “Do you—I mean. Do you want to get coffee sometime?” he repeated. Shit. Shit, he was doing this, how was he already doing this? “With me?” He wanted to kick himself, of course he’d know he meant it that way. “I—my shift ends at noon today. If you’re free. I-if you want to, I mean.”

Gerard blinked at him, so utterly bewildered that it might have been funny if Jon’s heart weren’t currently climbing into his throat. “You—wait. Is this… are you asking me on a date?”

He said it so incredulously, as if the idea that Jon would ask him on a date were utterly incomprehensible to him. Rapidly, Jon’s heart sank back down.

“Yes,” Tina leapt in helpfully. “He is. Aren’t you, Jon?”

She nudged him none too gently. “Y-yes,” he said, because it wasn’t as if he could dig himself any deeper. “That—that was the intention.”

“Huh.” Gerard shrugged. “Sure.”

The whiplash made Jon dizzy for a moment. “Really?”

“Yeah. Noon, right? See you then.” With that, he turned and walked out of the library.

Once he was out of sight, Jon slumped over onto the surface of the desk like a marionette with its strings cut.

Tina patted his back. “Proud of you. Go get that goth D.”

***

It wasn’t that Gerry didn’t know it was a terrible idea—just that he’d had worse ones before. He was still breathing after years of them, in fact. So what was one more?

Jon the librarian was far from the first scarred survivor he’d ever met. They weren’t common, precisely, but nor were they unheard of. Technically he was one, and Mum had been as well, before she carved herself up.

But Gerry knew he was an outlier, and as rare as surviving one brush with the Fears was, meeting two of the things and escaping uneaten from both was on a level of its own. But against all odds, when he looked at the wispy little librarian who’d spent the past week being so divertingly helpful, Gerry could see two separate, distinct marks on him, where there had previously been only one. And they really were distinct from one another. The Flesh was like a shark sometimes, content to take one good bite before losing interest and wandering off, while the wisps of the Web still clung jealously. A scar like that could have been left years ago or the day before they met. You could never tell with the Web.

That added to the risk, of course. For all he knew, this was some ploy from the Mother of Puppets to catch him and draw him in. A little cliche, maybe, but Gerry couldn’t fault it for its efficacy.

He’d said yes, after all.

In his defense, it wasn’t every day he met someone with a nice face, a taste for burning Leitners, and enough luck or fortitude to walk away from two different Powers. Nor was it every day a person like that asked him to… well…

People didn’t flirt with him, was the thing. Anyone who knew enough to be worth talking to either wised up and ran the other way, or turned around and tried to take a chunk out of him.

So, yeah. Might as well give it a shot. See what it was like, while he had the chance.

He had til noon to brace himself, anyway. Not enough time to go back to Mum’s and freshen up, which was a shame. She’d just faded out a couple of days ago, so he knew he’d have the place to himself.

Ah, well.

In spite of himself, Gerry found himself turning his face upward with a grin and an excited spring in his step. It’d be a bit like traveling abroad, or visiting tourist traps, or all the other things he indulged in when Mum was gone. See as much of the world beyond his own as he could, before she finally fucked up and got him killed.

A date! Who’d have thought he’d get to check that one off the bucket list?

[mymoonagedaydream]

Home (Part 2)

Summary: As you got closer to Bucky again, some kind of emotional crescendo was inevitable.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: I got one more part after this, so let’s call it a mini-series

---

You slept in the next morning, getting out of bed only to traipse down to the living room and lounge around in your pyjamas on the couch for the rest of the day.

It was the holidays- you were allowed to be disgustingly lazy if you wanted.

Evening came around before you knew it, the smell of your mother’s cooking filling up the house as you stared dead-eyed at the Hallmark Channel, all the white couples wearing red and green sweaters slowly blurring into one.

You were only awoken from your hypnosis by your dad leaning over the back of the couch, jingling some car keys at you.

‘I need to take your mother’s death-trap to Barnes’, you wanna come along?’

‘Really?’ You frowned, eyes darting to the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘It’s almost seven, surely they’re closed?’

‘They are, but Bucky offered to work on it out of hours.’

You gave an impressed nod, adopting your best impression of your mother. ‘What a nice young man he is.’

‘You know it, skip.’ 

He grinned as you hoisted yourself up from the couch and shoved a coat over your pyjamas, figuring that getting dressed this late in the evening would just be an absolute waste of time. 

The two of you hopped in the car, both cringing at the metallic scraping sound the engine made when your dad turned the key. 

After a tense few death-defying minutes, you finally pulled up at the workshop. Your dad honked the horn and the shutter door began to rise, slowly revealing what you could only deduce to be an extra from the music video for Uptown Girl.

Oh wait, no, it was just Bucky.

His choice to sport a tank top mid-December was definitely a bold one, but Jesus fucking Christ you weren’t complaining. Glistening with sweat and covered in grease stains, he looked like a page from a raunchy calendar hung up in an office full of middle-aged spinsters.

He waved the car in, greeting your dad with some kind of bro-hug ordeal that immediately confused the hell out of you. 

Those two were buds now? What else had you missed?

‘Hey, Lilypad.’ Bucky looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow at the plaid pyjama pants peeking out from underneath your coat. ‘Nice outfit.’

‘Thought I’d make a bit of an effort.’

‘For little old me? You shouldn’t have.’

You gave him a playful shove on the shoulder as you strolled past, taking yourself for a little tour of the shop floor while he started searching under the bonnet.

The place was surprisingly neat and tidy, you were quite impressed. The only questionable thing you found was a scantily clad centrefold torn out of a magazine and pinned to the corkboard, upon which some comedian had scribbled the words ‘Bucky’s girlfriend’.

You’d be having words about that.

Completing your journey, you re-joined the boys just in time to see your dad reach his wallet from his back pocket and wave it towards Bucky.

‘How much?’

‘You're joking, right?’

‘Let me give you something. I insist.’

Bucky chuckled, pulling a dirty rag from his pocket and roughly wiping his hands. ‘Honestly, it’s fine. It’ll be ready in the morning.’

‘Ah, you’re one of the good ones Buck.’ Your dad clapped him on the shoulder before turning to you. ‘Come on then, squirt. Dinner should be almost ready.’

For some reason, you found yourself very reluctant to leave. Jesus, you’d actually prefer to spend the rest of the evening in this cold, halogen-lit grease pool with budget Billy Joel than at home in front of a warm fire. That boy had magical powers or some shit.

‘I don’t mind sticking around, if you want?’ Bucky shot you a slightly confused frown. ‘I could go out and pick us up some food.’

‘You sure? Passing up your mom’s cooking for this place seems crazy.’

‘Least I can do, we’ll count the company as payment.’

His frown slowly melted into a warm smile. ‘Sounds great.’

You looked back at your dad, who was absolutely beaming, eyes flicking between the two of you like he was at Wimbledon. His excitement was sweet, but you knew he was only invested in your relationship because it had the potential to give him a lifetime of free car repairs.

‘Well, you kids have fun.’

After loitering around for a few minutes, you eventually headed out to pick up dinner from a nearby takeout. It was freezing and your pyjamas got pretty soggy, but your good mood didn’t waver for a second. You were really excited to have an evening alone with Bucky.

When you got back, he’d ferreted out some old car seats for the two of you to sit on while you ate.

‘So I saw the photo of your girlfriend hanging up back there.’

‘Oh, that’s just a stupid joke.’ He immediately went bright red, tripping over his words a little. ‘The guys here keep trying to set me up on dates but I always say no, so they found me a “paper girlfriend” instead.’

‘Maybe they’d leave you alone if you sucked it up and just gave it a try.’

‘I think you’d take that back if you’d seen some of these women.’

You raised your eyebrows at him. ‘Never had you down as shallow, Barnes.’

‘Oh, c’mon. I’m not I just-’ He chuckled slightly when he realised you weren’t being serious, eyes flicking back down to his food. ‘I have a pretty specific type.’

‘Maybe too specific?’

‘You could say that, yeah.’

There was that weird atmosphere again, it kept creeping up on you at the most inconvenient times. 

You just changed the subject.

Once you’d both finished eating, you watched him work for a while, quickly flicking your eyes away from his bare arms every time he looked up but definitely getting caught a few times. Oh well.

It must’ve been getting close to midnight when you started dozing off, full to the brim with junk food and warmed up by the space heater Bucky had pointed in your direction. You were almost completely asleep when you felt him softly shaking your shoulder.

‘Home time, Lilypad. You need a ride?’

You peeled your eyes open, yawning as you stumbled to your feet. ‘Ugh, that’d be great. Did you drive here?’

‘Nope.’ He turned around and crouched down a little. ‘Hop on.’

‘For real?’

‘For real.’

Still pretty dazed, you did your best to clamber up onto his back, settling your head into the crook of his neck whilst trying to ignore the all feelings that his strong grip around your legs was provoking.

He somehow managed to lock up the garage while you were clinging onto him like a baby monkey, the cold night air waking you up a little more as he started on the short walk home. 

You were only expecting a lift as far as his house, but he seemed to deliberately miss the turning.

‘We just passed your street.’

‘I wouldn’t be much of a public transport service if I didn’t take you the whole way now, would I?’

‘You never were one to do things by halves.’ You pressed your cheek against the side of his head. ‘But you know I’m not paying you for this, right?’

‘I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.’

‘In your dreams, Yucky.’

‘You’re damn right about that.’

He took you all the way to your doorstep, refusing to drop you until you were inches away from your front door. After gently setting you down, he spun round, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

You chuckled, trying to find your key. ‘I probably won’t see you now until after Christmas, so I hope you have a really nice one.’

‘Yeah, you too.’ He paused for a second, his hand feeling around in his pocket, looking as though he was building up to something important. ‘I’ll see you for games night though, right?’

Oh, apparently not.

‘Right. Night, Buck.’

Stepping forward, he placed his hand on the back of your head, gently pulling you towards him and pressing a soft kiss just below your hairline.

‘G’night, Lilypad.’

---

Christmas came and went, your family had their usual two day lock-in. You ate until you couldn’t stand, played so many board games that you had them all down to a perfect science and didn’t change out of your pyjamas for two days.

Spending so much time with your parents made you realise how much you’d missed them, and how much you’d miss them when you left again.

Aside from all the warmth and loveliness of your family, there was another big highlight to your day- a text from Bucky that you woke up to on Christmas morning.

Merry Christmas, Lilypad. It wasn’t the same last year without you.

---

The evening of the 26th was games night. 

The doorbell rang and you leaped up, yanking it open and immediately pulling Bucky into a hug. You tried to greet his parents too, but it was a little difficult while you were being squeezed like a vice and carried towards the living room.

Everyone settled in while your mom made up the drinks. It was so reassuring to see that the end of your relationship with Bucky hadn’t tarnished the firm friendship that’d formed between your parents, the relaxed atmosphere between everyone made it felt like nothing had really changed since you left.

A little while after they’d arrived, you scuttled off to the kitchen for a snack, not noticing Bucky hot on your heels. You jumped out of your skin when you spotted him in the corner of your eye, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

‘I was just, uh- wondering if we could-’ He took a deep breath, steadying himself. ‘Could we go upstairs?’

You studied him for a second before answering. He was struggling to keep still, shifting back and forth on his feet while also seemingly unable to find a comfortable resting position for his arms. He was tense and anxious, you’d never seen him like this before.

‘Is everything alright?’

‘Yeah, all good. I just thought it’d be nice to talk in private for a bit.’

‘Sure.’ You gave him an apprehensive nod and gestured for him to follow you. ‘We can go to my room.’

Dread started to churn in your stomach as you slowly ascended the stairs, his heavy footsteps clunking up behind you. Bucky was the most laid-back, carefree guy you knew, what the hell could have him so jittery?

You led him into your bedroom, hearing a low chuckle as he closed the door behind him. ‘This place hasn’t changed a bit.’

‘I think my mom likes to keep it ready in case of surprise visits.’ You sat on your bed, patting the space next to you, giving him a warm smile as he took the invitation. ‘So what’s up?’

‘I haven't had a chance to give you your Christmas present.’

‘Oh, well it’s too late now.’ You teased him, trying your best to ease some of his nerves. ‘You’ll have to try again next year.’

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to wait that long.’

Digging a hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small, clumsily wrapped present and quickly handed it to you.

‘Thank you, that’s really sweet.’ You felt it in your hands for a second. ‘Insert good-things-small-packages cliché here.’

Eagerly tearing off the wrapping paper, you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

It was a ring box. 

Your eyes shot up to him.

‘Open it.’

‘I don’t think I can Buck, I-’

‘Just, before you say anything, let me explain.’ You nodded faintly, feeling tears pricking your eyes. ‘You remember our last year together, how I told you that my dad was making me work all those hours? He wasn't. I asked him for them, cause I was saving up.’

You felt like you'd been shot in the stomach. ‘You bought it before I left?’

Flashbacks of your break-up conversation flooded into your mind. You’d been the first one to suggest separation, but you vividly remembered Bucky agreeing without hesitation, so quick that it made you think he’d lost interest in you.

‘I thought you wanted to break-up?’ Your words got a bit tangled in your mouth, the wave of emotions you were experiencing making it difficult for you to string your thoughts together.

‘I didn’t want to hold you back. I knew what the job meant to you.’

Your gaze darted back down to the box in your hand. ‘And you kept it all this time?’

‘It's not mine to give away, it's yours. It's always been yours.’ He placed his hand on top of yours. ‘I just couldn’t let you go again without it.’

Your mind went completely blank, the only sensations you could focus on were the sting of hot tears rolling down your face and the feeling of his rough skin against yours. You let your gaze slowly rise back to his face, the sight of his wide, blue eyes fixed on you making it even harder for you to untangle yourself.

Before you could even try to speak, he leaned towards you, cupping your face in his hand and softly pressing his lips against yours. 

You let your eyes flutter closed, the only tangible thought rolling around your mind was how much you’d missed this, how much you’d missed him.

It was only a few seconds before he pulled away, letting out a heavy sigh and resting his forehead against yours.

This was too much, you felt your breathing becoming more frantic as you tried to pull yourself together. You turned your head slightly, roughly wiping the drying tears off your cheeks, doing everything you could to just think without being overcome by emotion.

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘You don’t have to say anything. Just stay.’

‘I’m so sorry, Buck.’ You felt yourself beginning to crumble again as you carefully placed the box back in his hand. ‘I can’t.’

---

Part 3

---

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---

[alittlebitgoofy]

the only proof i need is you (taywhora)

it is finally done, i've been wokring on this since the ukd tour started but we don't need to talk about that, it's kind of a sequel to my older canon compliant fics but can be read sepereatly. love my dear mina for always betaing shit I send them, an actual icon

title from proof by Paramore bc that song got stuck in my head as I was tryna get a title, enjoy :)) ao3 link

Tayce relished in the energy she got from this, after so long away from gigs the euphoria wasn’t lost on her. They were lucky, finally able to experience the dizzying highs of such public notoriety.

The heat didn’t help things— of course, they’d get stuck in a heatwave during a cross country tour. The amount of sweat, makeup running by the end of the show, outfits sticking in places they shouldn’t. It was a nightmare, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything

Her attention was pulled back to reality by the laughter of her friends, using silly Instagram filters on each other to amuse them. They stumbled towards her in a flurry of giggles, knocking into her arms and almost sending her falling over into the crowd. A’whora raised her phone to Tayce, erupting into laughter at the way the screen contorted her face into something unrecognisable.

---

“Are you done with those?” Tayce asked, gesturing to A’whora’s fries while his attention was laser focused on his phone.

Before he could answer, Tayce plucked a chip anyway, putting it in his mouth much to A’whora’s chagrin. He huffed, eyes narrowing at such an act of treason.

“You hound!” He swatted at Tayce’s arm as he reached for another. “What happened to yours?”

Tayce lent in further, smiling fiendishly and chewing obnoxiously loud. “Ate them, like, ten minutes ago. You’ve been staring at your phone for the past hour and they’re gonna go cold, missy.”

“I’m eating at my own pace!”

“You eat slower than Lawrence picks up choreo.” Tayce grinned, his heart warming at the way his friend pouted, arms crossed — he was too cute when he got all riled up.

“Don’t involve me in your lovers' spats!” Lawrence hissed from across the table, laughing at the way Tayce’s eyes narrowed. He knew Lawrence was only having one of those stupid more-than-friends jokes, but any implications of their relationship being anything other than professional made the room seem a little too tense for his liking.

“She’s right, you two argue like an old married couple.” Bimini chimed in, resting their head on their hands like this was an everyday event.

“This isn’t an argument, a crime has been committed and you two are bystanders letting such an act go unpunished!”

“It’s a fucking chip.”

A’whora glared at Lawrence for such a comment. It was his chip. Tayce had his own, he could deal with himself. He had a bad habit of eating things that weren’t his and flirting his way out of any repercussions. He’d buy A’whora more of something most of the time but the annoyance was justified after a year of having his food stolen.

Bimini let out an exasperated laugh, the idiocy of the pair never failing to be both amusing and tiring. They bickered like children sometimes but there was a layer of deep connection under it, two people so strong in their unity that nothing could break them apart.

Except a chip apparently.

They slid their own half eaten pack over, not likely to eat the rest anyway. It would be worth the quiet of Tayce settling down with more food for a little while. They missed the peace of them all being passed out from a long night’s show.

“Tayce, you can have the rest of mine, just leave her alone.”

“Let the whore have her own food, you hound.” Lawrence huffed, Tayce snickering at the moniker. It made him raise an eyebrow, nodding before turning his attention back to his fries.

It was hilarious seeing him get so riled up but there was a small pang in Tayce’s chest, he genuinely was a bit upset about having his food taken, it was a constant that always riled him up no matter how much Tayce replaced. He slid a few fries over, secretly enjoying the bright smile that took over A’whora’s face, giving a thankful nod.

---

Tayce felt the repetitive movement of the car slowly lull him to sleep, they were all too tired to do much of anything, passing out in the back of the tour bus in full drag, not even the energy to take it off before going to their hotels. A’whora was next to him, head leant against his shoulder. He looked so peaceful, making it hard to believe he’d been performing in the horrid heatwave an hour ago.

Bimini was on the other side of them, by the window. They’d curled in on themself, contorted in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable. She’d have to laugh when they complained of back pain the next morning. Lawrence was beside them, stretched across the seat between him and bimini. It was strange to see everyone so low energy, though Tayce himself felt it. So many shows in such quick succession, his body wasn’t ready no matter how much preparation went into it.

A bump in the road jolted him back to attention, though the rest of them were long gone from consciousness. At least he thought. His attention turned back to A’whora, taking in all of his features without the prying eyes of anyone. Something about the sight of him, head reclined on Tayce’s shoulder looking like it was the most comfortable thing in the world, it made his heart warm.

Those feelings still went unsaid, he wasn’t ready for a lot of things, A’whora knew that. He knew with time he would open up, it just took patience and love.

---

Tayce’s energy was electric, his constant bouncing and talking leaving the others in the tour bus in a similar state.

Long drives were boring, he had to make it more interesting somehow. A’whora and Lawrence exchanged a look as Tayce set up an Instagram live, mentally preparing for the chaos that would surely follow.

Lawrence was half amused and half mortified at the act that followed, A’whora cheekily shaking her ass on the camera, much to the amusement of the viewers, Tayce slapping it as if it was no big deal. He’d probably come to regret that later but the moment buzzed with the excitement for their next show, the tour in general, and the euphoria of touring with some of his best friends.

The rowdy energy kept up for the rest of the day, Tayce rarely lost his buzz as A’whora had come to learn, it was a blessing until it was late and she was ready to go out when all he could do was pass out in the hotel room.

They had to share this time due to availability, acting like it was a minor inconvenience when it was all they wanted now, to feel the comfort of someone going through the same grueling thing as you, waking up next to Tayce was euphoric. Something about him took the best, happiest feelings out of A’whora and left him a gooey mess of love and laughs.

Though Lawrence was catching on, or so Tayce claimed he thought, confiding in A’whora knowing even he could keep this secret. He knew better than to say something like that, Tayce’s vulnerability was difficult to keep, any sign of trouble and he’d close right back up for a long time to come.

“Oh, there are the lovers.” He boldly prodded the pair, erupting into a laugh as Tayce scowled. The atmosphere was too tense for 9 am, the previous night out leaving him in a precarious state of trying to balance a normal act and a vicious headache that only a kiss from A’whora had managed to vanquish.

“Well what crawled up your ass and died?” He followed up, Tayce’s glare frosting over in a way that truly worried A’whora. He was not happy and he didn’t want to sit in a car all day full of tension. Where was Bimini in this mess?

“It’s too early for this shit, settle down.”

His voice seemed to reason more with Tayce as he got into the car, quickly pulling a’whora beside him. Bimini came out a while later, apologising for the wait. None of them ever seemed to be on time, it was almost as if they took it in turns this tour.

Their presence brought some much needed peace as Tayce started perking up through the journey, still oddly quiet but much better than wanting to bite Lawrence’s head off this morning.

---

“A’whora! God, hurry up!” A shout came from Bimini as they prodded her to change faster. Damn costumes, never easy to get off in a hurry.

Tayce watched it with muffled laughter, the misfortune not enough to need intervention but much too amusing to leave alone.

Lawrence shared in her amusement, though had no problem commenting on her time wasting.

“I thought I was the slow one, the whore’s got us all beat.” She commented, the room erupting in laughter much to A’whora’s annoyance.

“Stupid fucking outfit! Tayce?” The complaint was followed by a pleading whine, her eyes starting to tear up with sheer frustration.

Tayce obliged, walking over and unzipping the outfit to let A’whora out, grabbing her new one and sliding it up her body, slowly as to allow her to get in without rushing.

A’whora felt herself almost quiver, the feeling of Tayce’s hands running down her back taking her back to—

Nope. She couldn’t do this, not during a show. Keeping this secret would eat her alive by the time they got finished with this tour but she could enjoy the little moments they had, as inconspicuous as possible.

“Talk about sexual tension.”

“Oh fuck off Lawrence.” Tayce shot back. Before any more words could be exchanged they were rushed back on stage for a group number.

Thank god for Tayce.

—-

Tayce let himself fall onto the bed with a loud groan. It was incredible being able to perform for huge crowds and meet their fans but this was a new kind of exhaustion. He felt the need to hibernate for the next week. Beside him, A’whora flopped down, a similar sigh leaving his lips.

“I can’t wait to get home, I’ve got a face mask and a few packs of percy pigs waiting for me.”

“Is that all you ever think about? You better share, missy.” Tayce teased, a tired grin spreading across his face, elating his boyfriend who rolled over to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Only if you ask politely, or maybe you do something nice for me.” The last part came out in a purr, their faces so close Tayce swore A’whora could feel the heat rising off his face at the insinuation.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t play along, flirting and calling his bluffs. But this was more intimate, the two of them, together. No one else, no need to worry about keeping it down so their roommates wouldn’t find out. It was a flash of a possible future. The pair of them working, joking, and loving together.

It dawned on him then, cuddled together without a care in the world after the most exhausting two weeks of his life. This was what he wanted, he didn’t care what other people thought. Something melted away without him realising, leaving his heart bare and ready for the taking though A’whora always let him set the pace.

“I love you, George.”

He froze. Did he hear that right? Did Tayce just say he loved him? Tayce, the one who could never let himself be vulnerable, much less admit his deepest feelings.

“I love you too.” He choked out, sounding more shocked than he knew possible. Tayce couldn’t help but laugh, he wasn’t expecting it but that reaction was nothing less than adorable. He pulled him into a soft kiss, enjoying their closeness before they both drifted off, hardly ready for the travel and fatigue of tomorrow but safe and cosy in the presence of each other.

He could get used to this.

[fallingfor-fics]

Teachers Pet- chapter 29: Lucius

All chapters

chapter 28

I looked around the shelf a bit to see the back of the Dark man walk passed the aisles to walk out of the front. I jumped back behind the shelf when I saw him look at me, with his beading black eyes. He squinted and raised his brow at me and I turned around waiting to hear him leave. He lingered for a moment more and I turned to him sharply, "Are you attending the Ball?" I spat out quietly. He snapped back to me and eyed me up and down, I stood there awkwardly and pushed some hair from my face. "Yes Albus makes me chaperone." he sighed. It's like talking to me was an inconvenience to him now, I don't know if it's because of the forest, or the mind lessons. But he was suddenly being a normal professor to me, not a friend. No longer treating me like his foolish little teachers pet. I opened my mouth to speak, "Good day Ms. L/n." He said quickly and then turned to leave. "Well i'll see you there, with my date Draco!" I said and he just gave me a look and left the store. I looked over to the man but he had gone into the back.

 I looked at the little girl and she smiled. I walked over to her and set my hands  on the counter. "Do you have any really extravagant dresses that would blow that man away?" I said gesturing to the door Severus had left out of a few moments prior. She looked at me for a moment and smiled, nodding once and jumping off her stool. I furrowed my brows, No way she just understood me. She took me behind a privacy divider, it seemed to expand the store back even more and I followed her to a rack of dresses. "T-thank you?" I said looking at her. She pointed to a spot behind me, and that's when I thought I was done for, scared it really was like the shining and something was behind me. I turned and looked, and relaxed to see it was just a trunk on the floor. I looked back at her and nodded and she walked back to the front. I looked through the rack and found a couple pretty ones, but they didn't fit. I sighed in the dress I was trying on that wouldn't zip up in the back all the way. I looked over to the trunk and kneeled down to open it up. 

I opened it and looked inside to see a few items. I looked up to the top where a mirror was and jumped when I saw a man behind me. I quickly turned around and looked at the tall man that was standing there staring me down. He was of a tall lean build and had blue eyes, and long blonde hair. I had a slight feeling of who this man might be. He slowly walked over to me, his staff knocking on the floors. I just slowly stood up and he took his staff and pushed me back down. I let out a breath and looked up at him. I was hoping this wasn't the man I thought he was, because this was kind of a heated moment, with the silence and the energy this man radiated. And I wasn't totally complaining. "I hope you do not plan on wearing this whorish dress to the ball with my son." He taunted, moving my hair from my shoulder with his staff. I slowly stood up and stared up at him. "Certainly not Mr. Malfoy."

I turned and grabbed a random dress from the trunk and waltzed past him into the dressing room. This room was a bit more secure, it was a door like a stall and it had a lock. "Good." he growled and I heard him walk away. I let out a breath and stripped out of the "Whorish" dress trying on the random one I grabbed. I pulled it on and was able to zip it up with a little sucking in. I looked in the mirror and smiled it was stunning and perfect, what are the chances? I quickly took it off and changed into my clothes. I walked out with my purse and dress and took a look at the tag on the dress. "Fuck." I mumbled It was almost a hundred galleons. I stood there and looked up when I heard a deep scoff. Mr. Malfoy was still here and was shaking his head at my language. "Such a pitiful girl you are, you're certainly lucky you are beautiful." He said walking over to me. I looked up at him, crossing my arms and tilting my head to mock him, "And you’re lucky you’re rich."  I retorted. He raised a brow at me and opened his mouth to speak but I just walked past him to go to the register. I set the dress down in a random spot and went to buy a bracelet I had found when I was pretending I wasn't watching Snape, I would have to find a cheaper dress somewhere else. The little girl somehow checked me out and I put the bracelet in my bag and made sure I had my wand.

 I tried to hurry out, to avoid Mr. Malfoy, and headed down the back of the store. Walking down the path behind it to assure I wouldn't have to run into him again. I let out a breath, the cold air leaving my nose red and cheeks frozen. I looked down at my watch. "Shit I need to meet them in like thirty minutes." I said looking around to see where to turn. I jumped when I heard the vile man's voice once again. "Did you not listen to what I said back there? You're lucky I haven't stopped you from seeing Draco yet!" he quipped, I turned to face him gripping my wand. "Here." he insisted as he held up a paper bag. I took it slowly from him and looked inside, it was the dress. I looked up at him, I gave him a polite smile. Like father like son I guess.  "Thank you Sir, I will repay you." I said nodding politely. He looked me up and down, keeping his head high. "No need, we can discuss it another time." he said, smirking and walking off. "Wait," I stuttered, he turned and looked at me, "Can you take me to the Three Broomsticks? I can't remember how to get there, and I need to meet your son actually." I said standing up straight. He nodded and I walked over to him and followed him down the dim paths. "I won't let you deceive my boy forever." The wealthy man said out of nowhere as we walked. "What are you fussing about?" I said not looking up at him. "I know you are not of pure descent." he said smugly. I stopped and looked up at him. "I don't know what you mean?" I said playing dumb. "I'm not a  fool, my son may be, but I am no fool." he groaned, looking darkly in my eyes. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel heat rise to my cheeks. "If you know why are you letting Draco date me?" I said looking at him as we kept walking. He sighed and looked up and then back down at me. Raising a brow smugly, looking me up and down. "Because my dear, You're not bad to look at." He bellowed, winking at me as I stared frozen at him. "You're here, please, do keep my son an honest man." he teased as he walked away leaving me speechless. I shook my head and entered the pub.

I saw the rest of the group sitting in a round booth, Hermione next to Ron, who was next to Ginny, she was next to Harry and there sat my lovely Draco, he looked very uncomfortable next to Harry but I just smiled and walked over. "Hey guys sorry i'm late. But I found my dress!" I said smiling, Draco taking my bags from me and setting them down. "Did you get lost?" Ron said smiling, I rolled my eyes as I sat down next to Draco. "No Ronald, I was talking with someone." I quipped. He just laughed and I looked over to Draco, leaning to whisper in his ear, "I need to talk to you." I said smiling, "Can you guys excuse us, just order two butterbeers and two shots of firewhiskey and then whatever you guys want." I said taking Draco's hand as we slid out of the booth, "wait some of us aren't 'of age'. " Ginny said quietly using finger quotes and I looked to Draco, "Just say you're on the Malfoy tab." he said quietly and they nodded and we walked off. "And no looking at my dress." we walked outside the pub real quick, the cold hair hitting us as we stepped out. "So what's up?" Draco said as we went around the corner behind the building to hide from the wind. "I was late because I ran into your father, and he bought my dress for me." I said looking at him seriously. His face and posture stiffened at the mention of the man and he looked down at me for a moment. "What did he say?" He said suspiciously. I pondered on what to say for a moment, "just that, um I wouldn't need to repay him." I said, shaking my head, not wanting to worry him any more. I knew things were very tense with him and his father so I didn't want to make things worse. "Is that all?" he said, smiling a bit. "Yeah" I chimed brushing some of his hair. "Ok well that's not bad, let's get back inside." He said taking my hand and leading me back into the dimly lit, warm bar. 

We slid back into the booth and he smiled down at me, I looked at him and he pecked me on the lips and I looked down to our drinks that were already here. I looked at Harry who was looking at Draco after we had pulled away from our kiss. I ignored it and grabbed the shot. Everyone else turned from their conversations and followed my gesture, "To good fun on Thursday and holiday break!" Ginny cheered. We all clinked our glasses and drank down the bitter burning liquid. We sat our glasses down, sipping our butterbeers watching as Ron tried to keep his down. "So Y/n what did you say your mom said about the Ball?" Harry coughed still recovering from the alcohol. Draco looked at me, because I'd already told him what had happened with my mother. "She is seeing someone, his name is Charles, and she doesn't like who i'm going to the Yule Ball with," I said grabbing Draco's hand, "And it's 'up to me if I wanna come home for break.' according to her." I said using air quotes. "It's like she doesn't even care if I come home or not." I said sipping my drink. "Well you could always come stay with me, Y/n." Hermione said smiling, I returned the smile and shook my head. "Thanks, but I'm sure I'll end up going home." I said shrugging. "Any chance you'll see your dad?" Ron said and I just looked at him, thinking about it for a moment "Umm definitely not." I said taking another sip.

We all chatted for hours and finished our drinks, and some food and all stood to leave around 8 o'clock. "By guys" I said, waving to the four Gryfindors, as they split off the other way to their dormitories. "Bye see y'all later!" Ginny said as they walked down the hall. Draco put his arm around me and smiled. I smirked at the sweet gesture. I was getting used to being his girlfriend. He treated me good and protected me. But still the silly feeling in my heart stayed, and continued to leave me dreaming of the dark professor, that was always there in my life. "How was your day?" he said carrying my bags and his in his other hand. "It was wonderful!" I said smiling up at him as we walked to our common room. "Ok well Goodnight, I'll see you in the morning." he said smiling and handing me my bags. "Goodnight." I said nicely and he kissed my cheek quickly and then went into his dormitory. I turned and walked into mine as well. Closing the door softly as I sat my bags down and sat on the bed. I looked at my bedside table, the familiar letter sitting under a notebook, the response from my mother, about how Draco was a bad kid and his family was horrible. I meant to discard of it, but I got distracted. I looked in my trunk at some records I had brought, trying to get inspiration for my solo at the Ball. I was very worried about that too, and I had sort of forgotten about it because of everything that happened. I spent the night trying to find a song, and at some point went to sleep.

Sunday was spent doing more shopping with just the girls and I, looking for jewelry, shoes and shawls. We had a grand time and gossiped the whole day. We even ran into Luna, a Ravenclaw friend of ours and she spent the rest of the day with us. Monday went by quickly. I had some legilimency lessons with Snape and now that he was just being normal Snape and not my kind Severus, I was learning better and faster. Tuesday and Wednesday went just as quick and Thursday was chaotic. There was no school and all the first through third years had left for home. All the girls were walking around getting ready. It was after the Christmas feast and was almost six o'clock. "Ok we have approximately two and a half hours to get ready." Ruth said out loud and we all smiled and got to work. I conjured a couple mirrors for the girls and we all shared makeup. I focused on my makeup and hair, doing nice elegant eye shadow and eyeliner, with long lashes and plump lips. I fixed my hair the way I liked, some falling forward a bit. I put on some earrings and the bracelet I bought and finished my makeup. I screamed inside, I had an hour until my first Yule ball.

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[sunnywritesstuff34]

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hello! It is time for more Boruto AU, with Sasuke this time! @ghostjellyfishheart was excited for this, so enjoy lmao. I apologize in advance for this. Just. Disregard the choppy transitions. Tune in next whenever for Boruto being incredibly confused by Sasuke and trying to figure out how to adjust to living in his house. It’s incredibly awkward. Can’t wait. 

(TW and CW for: unconsciousness, coma, critical injuries, tired Sasuke Uchiha, angry Boruto, probably ooc Kakashi and like six other ooc people, death, parental death, possible parental death, cursing, the Uchiha Massacre, one night stands, Sasuke is trying very hard okay he’s doing his best, both of them are good dads because I wanted them to be okay?)

Sasuke Uchiha was angry. No, scratch that, he wasn't angry, he was pissed. He was furious. He was beyond angry, he had reached the peak of anger and transcended to another plane, and that was something he didn't even think possible. For starters, it's not like his day was going well to begin with. Kakashi had stuck him with way too much to do, endless goddamn paper work. Apparently sharingan was mostly for battle, because it really didn't do shit when it came to focusing. And it's not like his paperwork wasn't important, it was. He had to review a series of reports from high profile shinobi on their teams and the work of their teammates, so and so and so and so, it was always something. 

In all honesty, he had signed up for this. Well, okay, he didn't sign up for it, but he agreed to it. After Naruto’s disappearance Sasuke was just about ready to throw himself into as many dangerous situations as far from Konoha as possible, but no. He didn't know whose idea it was, maybe Tsunade’s, maybe Sakura’s, maybe Kakashi came up with it all on his own, whatever. Now he was working as Kakashi’s right hand man (and shadow in a lot of ways) and, in his own word’s, the Hokage’s “Don't Be Stupid And Callous And Hurt People For The Greater Good Because It Really Didn't Go Well Last Time” reminder. He really was doing good work, he caught multiple oversights and made sure to hold Kakashi to his word about the decline of execution, especially for missing-nin. He nearly punched Ibiki in the nose about sixteen times for being ridiculous, but what the hell did he expect? Changing things on a fundamental level and rebuilding at the same time were hard, it was pretty tempting to fall back on old methods. It was largely Sasuke’s job to prevent that from happening, and he was really good at doing it without murdering anyone, surprisingly (though he came close a couple of times.) The destruction of the Foundation was extensive and incredibly difficult, and it was surprising to pretty much everybody except for Sasuke just how deeply corrupted the village was. They were also changing up Anbu, though that was still an ongoing process. Sai helped quite a bit in the destruction of the Foundation, and helped develop some sort of rehabilitation for people indoctrinated into it like him. He was very passionate about it, something that Sasuke totally understood. It was personal. 

All things considered, there were two reasons that Sasuke didn't cut and run as soon as Naruto wasn't around to keep him anchored any more. The opportunity for bettering Konoha and the shinobi world as a whole and… well… Sarada. Sasuke and Sakura had Sarada around the same time that Naruto had Boruto with Hinata (say that ten times fast) albeit in a less… graceful manner. Naruto and Hinata had a child after getting married due to mutual affection, and Sasuke and Sakura had a child because of… well, a one night stand. 

In hindsight, though it hadn't worked out with Sakura, he was grateful to have Sarada. She was a sort of anchor that kept him from running yet again, especially seeing as Sakura was busy running the hospital/teaching the next generation of medical nin/finding new techniques for medical advancement and health/going on a mission every once in a while. She was also, you know, his daugther, and he loved her. Sakura’s parents had a fit when they found out, and they had an even bigger fit when they realized that the two of them weren't getting married any time soon. If Sakura had decided that a marriage was best, Sasuke likely would have gone along with that. What else was he supposed to do? It wouldn't be fair to her, especially in the eyes of traditional families and clans. Sakura, of course, was having none of that, and Sasuke was incredibly relieved. Sasuke had raised his daughter for the most part, and he loved her more than anything, but it was clear to anyone with eyes that Sasuke Uchiha wasn't necessarily the image of “perfect father.” At first, he thought of Sarada as an ambiguously important responsibility, as cold as that sounded. But then she was born, and she had legs and arms and a brain and feelings, so of course he became attached. Actually, she was sixteen at that point, and she had become an excellent kunoichi. In fact, she was taking the jounin exams soon, which Ashina might be too if Naruto had stayed. Speaking of Naruto…

Sasuke had no idea why he was surprised. It seemed that no matter where Naruto was or how many years it had been since they'd seen each other, he would always, always be a pain in the ass. That would never change. Of course Naruto would show up with his children in the Forest of Death. Of course he would do it while Sasuke was swamped with work and trying to help his daughter prepare for the exams. Of course, of course, of course. Not that he was complaining (he was), at least not in the long run. It was better that Naruto come back eventually, but twelve entire years? That was a long time. A very long time, with no explanation. Just to show how thoroughly Sasuke was swamped, he heard the news in the middle of an incredibly important meeting with the daimyo and Kakashi. That didn't stop him from rushing to the hospital anyway, but it was inconvenient. Whatever, Kakashi (the damn slacker) would probably survive without him. Ino arrived distressed and covered in blood, only to deliver the message of a lifetime. Kakashi pretended not to care, especially since he was in the middle of a meeting and Naruto was technically a missing-nin. But he did care, obviously, he was just very good at compartmentalizing. Sasuke was too, but Naruto and Sarada seemed to be the only exceptions to this rule. So, he took off without explanation and rushed like hell to the hospital, because Ino said that Naruto had been in critical condition. The idiot always managed to get hurt somehow, but if he died before Sasuke got to chew him out for vanishing, he would resurrect the bastard so he could pound him into the dirt. Or hug him and never let go. It was a toss up, either one. Sasuke’s chakra was flashing dangerously, and it made everyone around him nervous, but at this point he could care less. The Uchiha opened the doors to the hospital and rushed to the front desk, but he was intercepted by an exhausted looking Ino.

“Where is he?” Sasuke blurted, and she glared at him momentarily.

“I'll tell you where, but it's not that simple Sasuke, you can't just rush in there-”

“Tell me where he is,” Sasuke growled. 

“Sasuke-”

“Ino why can't you just-”

“Sasuke Uchiha!” she shouted in a way that sounded suspiciously like the few memories he had of his mother. He blinked. “Would you listen to someone for once in your entire goddamn life? God, you're just as frustrating as Sakura said you were. Naruto is stable for now, but he’s in comatose. Hopefully he’ll survive. But his kids are sitting in the room with him, and if you storm in there all furious, you'll scare the shit out of them. If you have to go in there, do it slowly and calmly. And Shikamaru says they go by Boruto and Himawari, not Ashina and Natsu. They must have changed their names at some point. Either way, you need to calm down.” Sasuke paused, because (damn her) Ino was right. He had to calm down. He was pretty threatening on his own, but to these kids, who were already worried about their father? He collected himself briefly as Ino sighed. “He’s asleep in room 306. Please be careful.” 

“Thanks, Ino,” he managed before practically launching himself past her. Just before he turned down the hall, he paused. “And Ino,” he called over his shoulder. “If Neji comes by… tell him to go to hell.” With that he was off. The room wasn't hard to find, and he threw the door open. It was a private room, no other beds except the one where Naruto lay. He sucked in a breath when he saw him, because it had been so long and frankly the man looked terrible. His breathing was shallow and he was way too pale, but he was alive. God, he was alive, at least he was alive. Sasuke could hardly believe it. Naruto was alive, and he was here. He was so caught up in his own head that he didn't notice the two children sitting by the door until he turned around to face them. He froze in place as an awkward silence settled, and the first thing he could think was oh my god, he looks just like him. Ashina- no, Boruto, looked just like Naruto used to, he was nearly identical except for Boruto’s eyes being a slightly lighter shade of blue. There was a girl sitting next to him that looked alarmingly like Hinata, and she was watching him with more curiosity than defensive aggression like her brother. 

“And who the hell are you?” Boruto demanded. Sasuke blinked. 

“I um. I am an old friend of Naruto’s. I- I had to see him. My name’s Sasuke Uchiha.” 

“Boruto- Boruto Namikaze,” the kid explained begrudgingly. Sasuke sat down in one of the chairs against the wall, a few away from Boruto and Himawari so that Boruto could watch him from a safe distance. He’d picked up a thing or two about skittish children in his time, and he figured the best course of action was to remain passive until Boruto let down his guard. Like an unruly cat that hisses whenever you get too close to it. 

“What… what happened?” Sasuke asked, trying to start a conversation in a totally subtle way. Boruto winced and hesitated, almost looking… guilty.

“We got ambushed. That's all. He tried to keep us safe and it didn't… It's complicated.”

“Ah,” Sasuke muttered. “Right. Naruto is my friend, I've known him since we were kids. He’s always one for reckless endeavors.”

“Sometimes,” Boruto conceded. “I guess. He’ll… he’ll be okay. He has to be.”

“He will,” Sasuke assured him before he could stop himself. “He’s strong. Sakura Haruno is one of our top medical nin, she's not here right now, but she should be back from her mission soon, and she especially will be when she knows that Naruto is here. He's very important to us.” Boruto glanced over at him, tearing his eyes from his father. 

“How did you know him?” he asked tentatively. Sasuke smiled without realizing it. 

“He's my best friend. We went to the academy together, we fought in the Fourth Shinobi War. He was always there. He’s important to all of us, before he… before he left.” Boruto looked away nervously. 

“Right,” he muttered. “Of course, that makes… that makes so much sense. I mean, I always wondered how he learned ninjutsu, I guess- I guess it makes sense for him to be from a Hidden Village. I just never…” Sasuke stared at him for a moment.

“He never told you?” Boruto shook his head and traded a glance with Himawari. 

“No. He never talked about anything from before we were born. I never asked because it just… made him sad, I guess. I didn't like making him think about it.” Sasuke nodded numbly. Did he regret it, he wondered silently. Did he regret leaving? Did he ever think about coming back? The door opened just then and Boruto tensed again, whipping his head to the door. Kakashi stood in the doorway with Sai behind him. 

“Hello. It seems Sasuke made it here first.” Boruto eyed him warily, moving closer to his sister. Kakashi took one look at the bed and then looked away, trying to not think about it for the time being. He turned his attention to Boruto instead.

“Well Boruto Namikaze, it looks like we have a lot to talk about. But it's been a long day for you two, and I think we’d best keep the hard conversations for tomorrow, hm?” Boruto must have read that as a threat because he bristled at the words, and Sasuke silently wondered how, despite years and years and years of experience, Kakashi never got any better at learning how to speak to children. Sai watched pensively, like an owl, tilting his head. Sasuke could understand Boruto’s nerves, especially considering the company he was in. Sasuke silently cursed Sakura for leaving at the worst time possible, but he knew it wasn't her fault. 

“You should try and get some sleep tonight, we’ll probably have more information on Naruto’s condition in the morning. Don't worry, Sasuke’s house is comfortable.” Sasuke shot to his feet.

“What?” he demanded. Kakashi looked at him lazily.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I think it'd be best for the two of them to stay with you for the time being. You have a child of your own, and lord knows I wouldn't trust anybody else to do it. Sorry Sasuke, I promise i'll pay you overtime. I can have somebody else handle your paperwork for a few weeks.” Sasuke blinked as the children looked between the man and his teacher. Finally, the Uchiha gritted his teeth.

“Of course, Hokage-sama,” he growled. “It would be an honor.” Kakashi nodded.

“See? It's not that complicated. I have business to attend to, I'll have a conversation with you tomorrow, Sasuke.” With that he was gone, and Sasuke found himself alone with two children. Two. he had his hands full with one, and now he would have to take care of three. And they were Naruto’s children, lord only knows what they would get up to. 

“Um,” Sasuke started. “I… I suppose… we should go… home.” Boruto hesitated before standing, tossing one glance over his shoulder at his father before walking out the door. Please wake up soon, Naruto Sasuke thought silently. But there were a few things Sasuke didn't realize at the time, and wouldn't for weeks. Naruto wouldn't be waking up, at least, not at first. 

Kyuubi would. 

[multisugars]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧— how they comfort you when you’re stressed out

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬// 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 — can you do an outsiders reaction where the reader has too much on their plate (work, school, etc.) and their SO asks them if they're ok and the reader just bursts out crying from stress?

i did add a couple different sceneries! because i didn’t want to write the same thing for each of them, but it all has the same feel to it!! xx

𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮

your boss decided to call you into work last minute. it’s only been a few hours since you returned home. which means you haven’t even gotten enough sleep to feel replenished. you wished so badly to tell him no, but he’s extremely hard headed and strict. especially towards the woman that work for him. and, you know you could use the extra money, as you’re putting on your uniform you can’t help but feel a sense of tiredness, it’s so overwhelming it makes you start to feel weak at the knees. you immediately call out for darry.

“what’s wrong y/n?” he asks worriedly.

“i-i’m just so tired,” you cry out. “i feel like my boss never wants me to have a break.”

you sit in the chair that rests in front of your vanity. you’ve never felt this exhausted in your entire life. darry takes notice at your weakened state, he hates to see you so worn out. it’s not normal for you to lack energy, you’re the most bubbly person he knows.

“okay, lets lay you down,” darry slides his arms under your legs and carries you over to your shared bed. you’re more than capable of walking yourself, but you don’t complain.

“just take a nap and rest awhile you need it more than anyone.”

“no,” you struggle to escape his strong hold. “i can’t i have to go to work.”

“not today, you’re not goin’ in i don’t care if i have to go talk to your boss myself,” he pulls the blanket over you tucking you in warmly. “rest now.”

“thank you, darry.”

𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙥

you’ve been working towards your masters degree in psychology for the past two years. you’re so close to being done but it’s so much work and the assignment you were just assigned is crazy difficult and time consuming, you try to push yourself to get more done before bed, but eventually your hands start to cramp from the all the typing, your muscles ache from the hours of sitting at your desk. soda comes into your room when he gets home from work. he’s immediately concerned when he sees you hunched over with your head in your hands.

“y/n...” he questions. “you alright?”

it doesn’t take much for you to break. all the stress finally came piling down on you.

“hey,” soda kneels down lifting your chin so he can see your face. “relax.”

“there’s so much pressures on me,” you vent. “this assignment is impossible.”

“nothing’s impossible for you,” he reassures. “you can do anything. i just think you need a break.”

“yeah i definitely do, will you lay with me for awhile?”

“of course i will,” he smiles shyly.

𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙮𝙗𝙤𝙮

you anxiously walked up the tall stairs into your HS, today was the day of your history presentation. this is what you’ve been dreading for the past week. public speaking wasn’t at all something you were comfortable with or liked doing, and it doesn’t help that you aren’t friends with anyone in your class, well besides ponyboy. he’s the only one you speak to.

you meet him in the hallway, putting your book bag and unneeded things in your locker. ponyboy noticed your hands shaking as you closed the door.

“you scared about this whole history thing huh?”

“uh- a little,” you shrug trying to hide your nerves.

“you’ll be fine,” he tries to reassure you.

but before you can walk away you can already feel the familiar stinging sensation starting to build up in your eyes, your heart rate accelerates, you feel like you’re drowning and can’t reach the surface.

“i can’t breathe,” you say as sheer panic overtakes your body.

pony’s face softenes. he grabs your hand dropping his books, taking you into the nearest closet.

“shh just look at me okay?”

you nod focusing all your attention on him. he runs his fingers through your hair while wiping a few tears away from your eyes. you take slow steady breathes. this isn’t the first time he’s had to help you get over a panic attack. once your breathing gets back to normal again, you feel like you’re finally ready to go to class.

“okay,” you breathe. “let’s go.”

“ uh we’re gonna need a late pass... unless you want to spend the end of the day in detention.”

you look down at your watch noticing you’re about six minutes late to history.

“damn it!”

𝙙𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙨

it’s been a busy night at the movie theater. you’ve tried your best to fill everyone’s orders while also working the cash register. your boss previously complained about how many workers there are on each shift so he cut back. sadly this leaves you to try and get so many things done at once. the stress of it all is starting to really affect you, but you can’t quit. you need this job more than anything right now so you can afford to get books for school.

even though your boss a jerk you do somewhat like this job, you’re a people person so seeing familiar faces every week puts you in a good mood, but every now and then you’ll get a disrespectful customer. this time it was a group of boys, you recognize some of them from the college you attend.

“what shit movies are playing tonight?” one of them asks while skimming through the candy.

“can you read? look at the boards outside..” you try your best to keep your cool.

“i don’t think you employees are allowed to talk to us paying clients like that,” his demeanor quickly shifts.

“hey we gotta problem here,” you hear a voice from behind the guys. knowing immediately who it is.

they quickly scurry off, as dallas pushes himself to the front of the line.

“you okay doll?”

“i am now,” you say softly as you wipe just a single tear from your cheek. you didn’t really care about the boys but it never feels good to be embarrassed at your place of work.

“don’t let those jerk offs make you cry.”

you nod and sneak in a quick kiss before dal leaves.

𝙟𝙤𝙝𝙣𝙣𝙮

“why can’t he do it this time! i’m going to be late!” you argue. your parents have asked you to clean the house again for the third time this week, and you normally don’t have a problem with helping out but your brother has been sitting in his room playing video games all day and you need to be somewhere. you feel like they always pick you at the most inconvenient times, and the worst part is johnny is waiting for you outside, you’d hate to make him wait.

“your brother is sick and slow! it would take him an hour to even sweep the kitchen,” you mom says as she puts her coat on.

“he’s not sick! he’s playing video games!”

“do it y/n! or you and johnny won’t be going anywhere tonight,” you dad warns as he slams the door behind him leaving you in a mess.

“WHATEVER!”

you collapse on the couch, breaking out into a full on crying fit. it feels like your parents are punishing you. johnny must have heard your cries from the front porch because without knocking he opens the front door, approaching you slowly.

“hey you okay?” his asks trying to help but this only makes it worse.

your cries get louder and johnny is completely stunned. he’s never seen you this emotional. you’re almost positive he’s going to think your absolutely insane after tonight.

“my parents hate me!” you say dramatically.

“i don’t think that’s true.”

“they are always making me clean things or do everyone’s chores,” you sigh. “we can’t leave until i sweep and mop all the floors.”

“well i’ll help ya,” johnny offers.

“really?!”

“yeah, but we better get started...” he pulls you up from the couch bringing his jacket sleeve up to your eyes so he wipe your tears away.

𝙩𝙬𝙤-𝙗𝙞𝙩

“i get that ma’am but i don’t have the receipt.”

“then i’m sorry hun...we can’t exchange it.”

you were trying to get a new shirt for two-bit. the one that you previously ordered had came in to small. but since you ordered it off the store website you didn’t have a paper receipt, and your order wasn’t showing up on their computers, which made you frustrated.

“so there’s no way i can get a new one? or even just get my money back?” you question.

“i’m sorry,” the cashier shakes her head obviously uncomfortable with the situation.

you don’t respond, instead you leave the shirt on the counter and walk out. it might not be a huge deal for some people but you didn’t have a lot of money. and you were out 25$, with nothing to show for it. when you get home two-bit is lazily slumped over the arm rest of the couch, drinking a beer.

“hey baby where’d you sneak off to?”

“the clothing store down town...”

“what’s up? you seem upset?” he asks lifting himself up from the couch.

your shoulders slump down as you bring your heads up to cover your face.

“wow wow don’t cry! sorry for askin.”

“no it’s not that,” you tell him. “they wouldn’t let me exchange your shirt today.”

“and that’s what you’re cryin over?” two-bit laughs wrapping his arms around your frame. “it’s fine.”

“i just wanted you to have something special.”

“you’re all i need y/n.”

𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚

steve had decided last minute to stop and get gas at the DX before the two of you finish your date. this annoyed you a little since you tell him every morning to just fill up while he’s at work, i mean makes sense right? but with his forgetful nature it’s hard to keep him on track with things. when you pull into the gas station it’s pretty empty, only one car parked along the gas lineup. steve steps out to pump and you go into the store to pay. when you walk in you’re met with a very rude and arrogant man who pushes you aside so he can be helped first at the register.

“excuse you sir?” you’re taken aback. “i was in line first.”

he laughs not offering you a response. the lady working the register meets your gaze and mouths “i’m sorry” in your direction. she must not be a very confrontational person, which you understood.

“i’m only paying for gas it won’t take long,” you add hoping the man will let you go since steve is waiting outside in the freezing weather.

“not my problem, you got somewhere to be?”

“actually yes, i do.”

“dressed like that?” the man scoffs. laughing as he scans up and down your body.

you might not have name brand clothes like him, but they weren’t dirty or disgusting looking. as he hands the lady his credit card to pay you can’t help but hang onto his cruel insult. right before you’re about to storm out the doors, steve runs right into you, latching on tightly to both sides of your arms. you lean your head into his chest.

“hey what’s goin’ on?”

you wrap your arms around his waist, crying softly as you reply the mans insult over in your mind.

“that man he-he was being a complete jerk!”

“what did he do?! huh did he hurt you!” steve becomes more aggressive.

you shake your head.

he takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes your eyes gently, while also trying not to smear your eye makeup. you laugh at his sweet gesture.

“you’re the best,” you lift onto your tiptoes placing a small kiss on his forehead.

“i know,” he smirks. “now let’s go outside before that jackass leaves i wanna give him a piece of my mind.”

[shhhhyoursister]

More cuddly and clingy and sober David!! Pleaseee

am i about to try and write this in class cause this professor is boring as hell and hes teaching the same psych shit ive learned 10000 times???? you bet!!!!!!!

***

David woke up with something in his chest already aching a little. He rolled over, his arm automatically reaching out for the body that was usually in place right next to him, and the frown he had woken up with only grew when he felt cold sheets instead. He sighed, turning his head to to confirm what he already knew; Matteo wasn’t there.

It wasn’t either of their faults; it was a rare week where their schedules clashed almost every day, and the most time he had been able to spend with Matteo in days was when they met up for a quick lunch, four days earlier. It was nice to see him and wrap an arm around his waist as they quickly ate their food, but kissing him goodbye not knowing the next time he would see him was what started the ache in his chest that let him know something was wrong.

He slid himself out of bed, his footsteps heavy, and made himself something quick to eat. Once he was done he collapsed on the couch with another sigh, and took his phone out. It was desperate times, so he tried not to feel too embarrassed as he opened his photos, and swiped until he found a cluster of dumb selfies that Matteo had taken one night after stealing David’s phone.

David grinned as he scrolled through them, snorting at a particularly funny angle, and then stopped on the one where David had caught Matteo, where he’s looking off to the side, a mischievous grin on his face with his tongue poking between his teeth. He’s in the next one, after Matteo had pulled him in to kiss him on the cheek, and David could see how big his own smile was, even with barely a third of his face showing.

He flicked through a few more pictures before the sight of Matteo’s face on his screen stared making him pine more than laugh, and he locked his phone and dropped it on the table next to him. He tilted his head so he could look around the room, and spotted one of his sketchbooks on the counter. He got up and grabbed it, and the pencil that he must’ve left next to it, and settled back into his spot on the couch.

He managed to draw for a couple of hours before his pencil strokes started becoming soft lips and blond, floppy hair, and before he realized it he had filled an entire page with small sketches of Matteo smiling, pouting, smoking, laughing. He smiled down at them and checked his phone again, knowing that Matteo was busy with his mom so he probably wasn’t going to be texting too much. 

He spent the next couple of hours flipping between apps on his phone and getting up to pace around the flat, opening the fridge just to close it again, and just as he started reaching a hand out to grab the apple that he had been thinking about eating for the past hour, he heard his phone buzzing in the other room.

He had to stop himself from running and jumping over the back of the couch to answer it because the only person who ever really called David was Matteo. He walked as quickly and as calmly as he could, and he felt his heart beat a little harder when he grabbed his phone and saw Matteo’s name and picture.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, a smile already growing on his face when he heard Matteo snort quietly at the name.

“Hey, asshole,” Matteo responded, and David chuckled, and Matteo chuckled back before asking, “what’s up?”

“Absolutely nothing,” David groaned, “all I’ve done today is think about how much I miss you.”

“Sounds fun,” Matteo teased, and David rolled his eyes,

“Yeah, it’s been a blast. How’s your mom?” David asked, closing his eyes and flopping back onto the couch as some of the ache in his chest dissipated. 

“She’s good. She actually got called away to some kind of church emergency, so I’m going back to my place now.”

“Oh? You are?” David asked, trying not to let the bit of hope he was feeling into his voice. He didn’t want to force his presence onto Matteo and his flatmates but he couldn’t help the itch he already felt to get a bag ready and hightail it to Matteo’s.

“Yeah, and I told Hans that I’d cook tonight since I’m suddenly free.” 

“Sounds nice,” David says, his leg starting to bounce, “pasta?”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Matteo said, and then David heard what had to be him unlocking his door and pushing it open, “so, do you want to come over?”

“Yeah, of course,” David said a little too enthusiastically (he could hear Matteo snort on the other end), and started walking to his room as he asked, “when do you want me there?”

“Uh…now?” Matteo answered like it was obvious, with another laugh, and David needed to pause from where he was pulling his shoes on so he could just stop and grin at the sound.

“Okay, can I stay over? You’re not doing anything tomorrow morning, right?” David asked, some of the desperation leaking into his voice, knowing that he had something to do in the morning, but he’d risk being late so he could wake up with Matteo in his arms again.

“Please do.” Matteo said, sounding just as desperate as David.

“Fucking finally,” David said, before throwing the last of the stuff he needed into his bag and slinging it on over his jacket, “I’ll be there soon.”

They hung up and David flew out the door and down the stairs of his building, and found himself dodging people on the street as he made his way as quickly as he could to Matteo’s. He was panting a little by the time he was buzzed in, but he still jogged up the stairs and was able to take a couple of breaths at Matteo’s door before it opened.

Matteo collided into him the second the door was open, his arms wrapping around David’s neck and shoulder and his face shoving into David’s neck. David laughed before sliding his arms around Matteo’s waist with a sigh,his forehead dropping to Matteo’s shoulder. He felt the ache that had been in his chest for days finally let up as they held each other in the doorway.

“Hi,” David said quietly after a minute, squeezing his arms around Matteo before loosening them so he could pull away. Matteo’s hands slid down to the collar of his jacket and tugged him into a kiss before he could say anything else, and he smiled against Matteo’s lips and bumped their foreheads together when they pulled away.

“Hi,” Matteo finally said, and grinned when David laughed before grabbing his hand and tugging him into the flat. 

“I still need to cook everything, do you want to help?” Matteo asked as they walked into the kitchen, and he started gathering the ingredients.

“Hm,” David hummed as Matteo started chopping up an onion, and he walked over and wrapped his arms around Matteo from behind and dropped his head onto his shoulder and said, “nah, I’d rather do this.”

“Cool, thanks,” Matteo said deadpan with an elbow jabbing back into David’s side, but he leaned his weight back into David’s chest and turned to kiss his temple when he was done chopping everything and he had to move to the stove.

David stayed glued to Matteo’s back the entire time he was cooking, even when it was inconvenient, even when Hans came in and watched the spectacle with a raised brow and a laugh before he left the room again. David didn’t care; he had missed Matteo in a way he didn’t know how to deal with, and finally being in his presence again, he felt like he needed to be a little clingy. And he deserved to be, because it had been four fucking days, and he missed his boyfriend.

Matteo stopped complaining when he realized that David wasn’t going to move, and instead started humming quietly to himself as he cooked the food. David smiled into his shoulder at the sound, and found himself frowning when Matteo finished piling all of the food into bowls, and he had to let go so they could eat.

When they were done eating the two went back to Matteo’s room, climbing into bed and curling around each other without saying anything as if they had planned to do so.

“Everything okay? You’ve been extra clingy today.” Matteo asked as he ran his fingers through David’s hair, his hand already stroking steadily over his back.

“Yeah, like I said,” David said into Matteo’s chest, rubbing his cheek against the fabric of his shirt, “I just missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Matteo said, and leaned down to kiss David on the forehead before asking, “you sure that’s it?”

“Yep,” David said, cuddling in closer and smiling when he felt Matteo’s arms tighten around him, “I’m good now.”

[ramblesofadreamerofthestars]

The 100 said Live Fast Die Young, Bad Bitches Do It Well, and they were Right

We were so fed this episode with women kicking ass, it’s what we deserve. As always, spoilers for the most recent episode (7.06) of The 100

            Indra becoming the commander of Wonkru, you love to see it. Like we’ve been saying this shit for years now, destroy the fucking flame and let Indra lead. Shout out to Adina Porter’s amazing acting skills (again), because every scene she’s in she absolutely kills and I am constantly in awe of everything she does. I understand where Indra was coming from with trying to get Madi to unite Wonkru again, the flame and the commander is all she’s known, but it was still,,,, Not Great! I’m so happy Jackson, Murphy and Emori showed up and put a stop to that shit, and I love how much they genuinely care for her. Side note, while I love getting to see Madi being a kid and getting to experience being normal, the fucking whiplash I got seeing Duncan/Quigley Quagmire on screen was a Time. “Yes I was a null left out to die, no I don’t want to fight you”, this kid is so Tired already I love him and want the best for him. 

            Beyond that incredible scene of Indra taking control of Wonkru (complete with “Can I at least watch?” ‘No.’ “I’m going to watch” and Murphy’s little clap, fucking amazing I love every moment Memori is on screen), the Sanctum scenes Once Again Dragged On. And now we added another plot? Technically we added it on a couple episodes ago but I’m already So Tired of Hatch’s girlfriend whatever the fuck her name is. “Tell Raven Boom Boom” fuck out of here with that corny ass shit, you are the Least important storyline in the clusterfuck that the writers have created. I kind of hope they all just get like...sent to a different planet I don’t Care about it. 

            Sheiheda (finally spelled that bitches name right I think) is so....one dimensional. Like, I get it it’s the increased tension with the believers and Wonkru fracturing and what not but he’s so fucking evil for...no reason?? He’s like, “everyone wants power blah blah blah power is the greatest weapon you could have, I’ll teach you how to gain power” whoop de fucking do. You’re not special, you’re not even an interesting flavour of evil I’m so tired of your shit. Penn getting the best line of “please Shut Him Up” was the audience taking over his body for a hot sec. Nelson I had hopes for you but like....b u d d y. “Hmm, I have dedicated my entire life to taking down corrupt leaders who take away people’s free wills so they can stay in power, but I guess I’ll listen to you, who won’t shut up about how people want power (self project much?) and also just give off bad vibes” like b r u h. 

THE DIYOZA-BLAKE FAMILY IS BACK IN ACTION BITCHES!! When Diyoza appeared I was so fucking happy I have Missed Her. The montage of her being as inconvenient as possible and rescuing herself to a kickass soundtrack? Art. I love them all getting to reuinte and the little moment of comforting Octavia when she said Bellamy was dead (just you fucking wait babe). I think it’s fairly obvious which direction they want Echo to go but I’m still hoping against hope she gets some good character development before the series ends. Diyoza agreeing with Echo killing that old man picking flowers but Octavia not liking it, Interesting. 

And Levitt!! He’s Not Dead!!! I am still very concerned for him and also slightly suspicious of him but I really really hope he’s as genuine as he seems. His and Octavia’s little moment, beautiful I loved it, Levitt really said punch me in the face it’ll be awesome huh. Not like, super thrilled with Gabriel’s choice but whatever they needed them to stay on Sanctum I guess. 

(fuck you for mentioning the native Bardoans again without letting me see them or giving me more information Let Me See The Crystal Giants.)

And finally, our lord and saviour, Clarke Griffin and her team of planet hopping idiots. Did Not enjoy the spiders, just right off the bat, not a fan of those. However, Nakara being the human garbage disposal is so fucking funny to me and the fact that the caves are a living being (with an anomaly stone in it like fucking what??? Did this bitch eat that too???). That smash cut between Russel saying “Then you take out the enemies Queen” and Clarke Griffin, poetic cinema. I love her so much y’all and I love her and Raven’s little moment. ALSO! I would die for Niylah and her stupid puns I love her and want her protected at all costs. Jordan geeking out over aliens continues to be a delight, this is what we deserved from Monty and Harper’s kid. Remove the impressionable youth from the shitty influences and would you look at that, Much Better. And Miller continues to be a delight and a whole ass mood in every episode, just here for Clarke and to get their people back but complaining the whole way because of the batshit insanity they go through, I Love Him. So many “side” characters got like, three lines this episode and that’s really great for them, would love to see them say more some day. 

I will say I wish Raven apologized to Clarke for what she’s said and done in the past, but her line of Clarke Griffin doesn’t break was really indicative of how the rest of the deliquints saw her, as their leader yes but also someone who could kill without falling apart when in reality we know it nearly destroyed her inside. I really hope that Raven continues to grow and understand and her and Clarke get to where they should have always been. Also, Raven talking about killing twelve (12) people and how it feels like her soul is breaking or whatever and I can just imagine Clarke’s inner monologue of “Remember that time I killed an Entire Mountain Of People and y’all got mad at me for leaving to process that, good times good times”. It’s definitely the start to a better path for Raven and I really really really hope it continues. 

Overall, this episode while the plot was kind of boring was saved by just how amazing the ladies were, kick ass take names and look incredible doing it, I love them. The acting continues to be incredible (once again shout out to JR Bourne for doing the Most) and even though I despise some of the storylines, the actors should be given praise for making it compelling stories to watch with how far their characters have come. Fuck Sanctum though. 

Next Episode Emori getting her time in the spotlight? You love to see it. I will say I’m incredibly worried for her (JRoth if you kill her is2g) but I am also So Ready to see her go off. I think this is the episode of Murphy with a gun to his head comes from? Idk should be interesting even if it’s dealing with whatever the fuck her name is crazy lady. Also, trouble with the Diyoza family, which will be Extremely interesting to watch as Diyoza has to come to terms with the fact that Hope has grown up without her, but also trying to make sure she doesn’t make the same mistakes Diyoza made.

When will Bellamy return from the war. When we get the Bellarke reunion I’m going to lose my mind y’all already know I’m a clown for them and I miss him (once again the character not the actor because Once Again, it is Completely understandable for them to prioritize their mental health first). I feel a little like Kronk watching these episodes like “oh ya, it’s all coming together” I can’t Wait for all the OG’s to reunite for the final season

[bewareofchris]

Help! My plot is stalled!

It’s alright, friends.  We’ve all been there, sitting at a desk or laying in our beds, staring at the screen wondering what in the holy beef jerky has gone wrong because our ability to write has just come to a screeching halt.

We’re uninspired.

We’re unmoved.

We’re incapable of figuring out what happens next.

It’s time like this that our instinct is to grab a machete and start cutting through extraneous characters like a boiled steak knife through Jell-O.  We’re throwing romantic curve balls and car crashes at our protagonist so quickly they don’t have time to recover from one before they’re being traumatized by another.

Sometimes, we think, now is the time to reveal that our beloved Protagonist is actually an alien from another planet who survives by consuming the souls of lap dogs and his insatiable thirst for Pekineses is causing him great distress because the human mate he has chosen for himself has three such delicious morsels.

BUT, never fear my friends.  Here are some ideas to help you get out of that hellish valley of despair and back on track.

Take a break.  Have a snack.  Stretch your limbs.  Go for a walk.  Call a friend who listens to things and explain to them how your story is stupid and you hate it and it won’t move.  You don’t need to let your friend talk at all. Just keep complaining about your story until suddenly you realize what went wrong.

Daydream about what your character would do if you were to suddenly abandon him/her with six kids under the age of 5 at a busy theme park.  Or what he/she would do if they suddenly found themselves trying to talk two very angry kingly types out of starting a civil war because they disagree on which side of their toast to spread butter on.  Put your character in the MOST ridiculous scenario you could possibly imagine.  Make them rationalize their way out of it.  Don’t make it easy.  Six kids under the age of 5 when you’ve never dealt with children is basically hell.  Let your character suffer, and fail, improve and finally win (or at least survive).

Fantasize about beating your characters with a metal pipe.  Imagine their pleas for mercy as they try in vain to remind you that they are fictional constructs and this is not their fault.

Once you’ve cleaned your system of these violent urges toward non-real people, sit back down.  Re-read what you’ve written, if it’s still as bad as you thought it was, here are some actual bits of advice:

Regardless of what Rafiki once said about moving on and forgetting the past, the problem that you are presently experiencing is mostly caused by something that went wrong in the recent events of your story.  Take another look at the latest choices that your main or side characters made and ask yourself if maybe them making A DIFFERENT CHOICE might put your story back to rights.

Take another look at your character and his/her story so far.  Is your character excelling in every facet of his/her life?  Have they faced any obstacles that amounted to more than a mild inconvenience?  Are they generally well-liked?  Respected?  Do they have noticeable faults?  Are these faults presented in a way that allows other people to be annoyed by them?  Have these faults gotten in the character’s way?  If your main character is Too Good and Such Winning or Basically Useless and Always Failing then your story is imbalanced and it can’t move forward because you’re not allowing the protagonist to experience growth and change.

Are there relationships?  Friendships?  Family?  Rivalrys? ROMANCE?  You need relationships of at least 2 different types in a story.  Preferably more.  And they can’t all be the same kind with different names.  And they need to also be developing with your characters.  So Protag makes an unpopular choice with his family but his BFF is loving it and his Romantic Interest thinks it could be good for him.  You have so much material right there!

DO. NOT. MURDER. ANYONE.  Dismemberment is okay if you really want to have to take the time out of your story to focus on the emotional and physical effects that a traumatic event inflicts on your protagonist.

DO NOT MAKE YOUR ROMANTIC INTERESTS HATE EACH OTHER OVER SOMETHING STUPID.  Please.  Please don’t do this.  It’s really just not worth it.  If you make them so angry at one another they’re screaming death threats and then the next day they’re like: I guess we love one another again you cheapen the impact.  If this is a story about overcoming things and growing as people and forgiveness then yes, break them up and get them back together but don’t do it just to have an exciting screaming sequence.  Or do.  I mean, you do you.

Instead of tearing your couple apart, have them get together.  Have them spend a weekend doing silly, childish, amazing things.  Let them smooch, and cuddle, and eat candy together.  Let them waste money they don’t staying overnight in a fancy hotel.

Visit a Significant Character from your Protag’s past because they are in need of comfort and guidance.  Allow them to reminisce about the good old days, and whine about how they don’t feel like they’ll ever be that happy again.  Let your Significant Character hit your Protag with a rolled up newspaper.  STOP BEING A NINNY, PROTAG.  STOP IT IMMEDIATELY.

Give your Protag an unexpected promotion.  You were just a kid that cleaned stables, but we noticed that you’ve got a real way about you that suggests you’re WIZARD MATERIAL.  Build that Protag up, let him feel pride and joy and love.

(And then make the person that promoted him have questionable morals.  Make him vaguely untrustworthy.  Watch your starry-eyed protag battle against a shady man of questionable intentions to see who wins in the end!  But not with the fate of the whole world.  Like the fate of a small village at most.)

Give your Protag the single worst day of his entire life that does not involve physical altercations and/or death.  Maybe he/she pulled a muscle having athletic sex that morning, was distracted by the pain in the shower,got soap in their eyes, limped to the car to find it was out of gas, went to a busy gas station, got coffee that was too cold to enjoy, was late to work, had more work than usual, the pain meds never started working, left his lunch at home, couldn’t buy anything because they ran out of time, had to listen to the Obnoxious Co-Worker next to them complaining about Obnoxious Co Workers Obviously Useless Significant Other for an hour and a half, left work late, forgot about plans to meet up with a friend, got ignored by friend at meet up, comes home and collapses in a pile of self-pity and physical pain and has Significant Other rub their aching pulled muscle and listen to their complaints.

You could do a car wreck, or you could just ruin your Protag’s entire life by having the transmission die in the middle of traffic.

The point I’m trying to get across here is that you have to have a journey that is balanced with ups and downs.  If you’re only going up, or you’re only going down, or you’re not going anywhere at all but straight forward on a 300 mile car trip across a flat surface with no trees, there’s no story there.

You could shoot someone, or you could have your Protagonist do something that injures their relationship with their Best Friend and Confidante.  Then your Protag protests their innocence to the point that it’s obvious they are being Stupid now.  Let them roll around in undeserved pity.  Let nobody else agree with them, and still they refuse to acknowledge they are stupid.  And then let them FINALLY, sort of, a little, admit they were wrong and instead of them offering a half-assed apology and moving on like it never happened, make them work to repair the damage they inflicted.  

Put your Protag in a position where they have to defend a friend/family member or romantic interest in a non-physical way.  Susan from Biology was telling Quentin and Theodore that Protag’s BFF eats his own snot.  And Protag is like OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO GO FIND SUSAN AND SCREAM A STRONGLY WORDED LETTER AT HER.  (or start vicious rumors about her behind her back, and take utterly glee at her humiliation, and then finally think: did I go to far?  I don’t think I went too far.)

DO. NOT. GET. SOMEONE. PREGNANT.  Do you knows what happens when someone’s pregnant?  They end up with a baby.  (Or a miscarriage.)  That pregnancy cannot be handwaved away.  If you’re not here to write about the amazing journey from sex to birth and lifetime of parenting that follows, you are not here to get someone knocked up for the drama.

Sure, let your Protag develop a desperate attraction to someone’s that not the Primary Love Interest but if the Primary Love Interest and Protag already have sexual and romantic tension building between them, maybe let the audience know that this is one of those things where you’re lonely and you want companionship and it’s not really that fair to Someone You Just Met and Now Want to Have Sex With.  Let Primary Love Interest struggle to be supportive.  or let Protag and Primarily Love Interest be mean-spirited little shits and mock the poor Someone You Just Met.

DO. NOT. MURDER. AN. ENTIRE. VILLAGE.  Did a spell go bad?  Did a curse escape?  Did your magical being accidentally create a sixteen foot tall metal horse with a thirst for squirrel hearts?  Remember that wholesale murdering of innocent side characters nobody cares about does effectively nothing for your story.  Don’t kill the entire village.  Let your character freak out because he/she misplaced a curse and ANYONE COULD HAVE IT.  Let them ransack the village developing a reputation as a mad man to find it.  Let him work furiously to develop a cure to the curse and refuse to rest until everyone’s been inoculated against said Curse, and then idk, he finds it on the floor under his work station.  Or, let him realize a curse is missing and he just kind of says nothing while he watches the village to see how effective it is.

SIDE QUESTS, so here me out.  This works best for longer stories and serial type works of fiction, but if your character has only one goal and never any other goals or distractions or purposes or interests you are seriously shooting yourself in the foot.  Don’t focus all your energy on Protag Loves Love Interest.  Protag also has Family Drama.  (Did you hear that Bobert is trying to buy a fucking boat?  A boat!  Why does he need a boat!  He can’t swim.  He’s going to die.  A boat.  A god damn boat.)  Protag has ambitions at work that are being undercut by Evil Boss.  (And anyway, Worst Boss Ever, he just comes over and drops this massive work load on my desk and he smiles at me because the Main Boss is coming tomorrow and my desk will be the only one covered in unfinished work.  What choice do I have?  I can’t quit, I need this promotion, so I stick to it.  I stay late, I work as hard as I can and...)

I know it’s not for everyone but Sex.  Unless your characters are Too Young to have a developed sexuality, that sexuality needs to be in your story.  I mean, if your entire story takes place and Grandma’s funeral, then you probably can skip this one.  But if your story takes place over any length of time, sex and sex-adjacent things need to be brought up.  They don’t need to be graphic.  They don’t need to be gross.  It can be a kiss, or the yearning for a kiss.  It can be a meaningful, flirtatious touch.  It can be the idea of a flirtatious touch.  There can be complaints of a need for flirtatious touches.  To each their own comfort level, but some sense of sexuality and how that is a Driving Urge in your character is also good.

Introduce a Rival.  Go ahead.  Let your uncontested King of Bowling protag meet a New Challenger.  Send them spiral with fear that they may not be top dog anymore.

Force your Protag and Antagonist to form a momentary truce.  Let them come to some understanding of the other that makes their future interactions more difficult.  

Strike your Protag with a Great Unfairness.  They didn’t get the promotion.  They couldn’t pay the bills.  They weren’t selected to be court jester.  They didn’t get to the store on time.  Someone else got to the top of the summit before them and now they’re basically trash to history.

Randomly have your supposed Antagonist turn out to Actually a Decent Guy that you’ve been blaming for all the wrongs in the world because it was convenient and really the actual antagonist can’t be defeated because he/she overpowers you somehow.  But with Actually a Decent Guy and his Surprisingly Nice Friends and you and your friends, you stand a chance.

Push your protagonist into a mud puddle.  Just for shits and giggles, make it so there’s not a dead body in there with him.  Or put one in if you want.  Nothing says ‘happy fun times at plot-stalled high’ like a decomposing corpse where one shouldn’t be.

Break your Protagonists heart, and let there be people that love them.  

Have fun, take your time, embrace the mundane and ridiculous aspects of life.  ALWAYS give your character flaws, and make them aware of them, and let them grow.  That’s the story.  All the other nonsense, the car wrecks and gunshots, and serial killers doesn’t matter in the end.  The reader is looking for Relationships That Matter and Characters that Grow.  Characters that stink of humanity, that reflect something about human beings the reader has met (or the reader themselves).  They want to connect, they want to love your character and they can’t do that if your character is Perfect.  Nobody’s perfect.  Stories stagnate when they can’t grow.  Let your story grow.  Let your characters grow.

[purplesurveys]

988

survey by ashleybayle

Has anyone ever told you that you looked like a celebrity? Yeah. The most popular opinion I get is Anna Akana and a local singer named Kakie, and then more occasionally I’ve also gotten Lucy Hale. Of course, all of these people are absolutely gorgeous though so it’s hard to accept comments like these lol

When was the last time you got something done to your hair? Professionally, late February. But I trimmed my bangs last Saturday.

Do you have any change on you right now? Barely. I only have a few 1-peso coins and a couple of 25-cent coins left.

What color is the pillowcase(s) on your bed? They’re pink with white lines.

Do you have a favorite day of the week? I like Monday mornings because we have weekly video calls for work and it’s really the only time I get to talk to other people anymore. Even if I can’t really count any of my colleagues as my friends, I’m able to get the human connection I’ve been hungry for and it always leaves me feeling good for the rest of the day.

Cutting your hair extremely short, would you do it? Yeah. That’s what I did last February; I’d do it again once my hair gets too long. I’ll probably go even shorter the next time because depression.

Have you ever been in an art show? I’ve been to art exhibits, if you’re referring to the same thing.

Would you considered yourself to be well-exposed to life or sheltered? I was sheltered for most of my life but I’ve been trying to get exposed to more scary life things so that I slowly start to detach from people I used to normally depend on, like my parents.

How high is your pain tolerance? Not high at all. I bruise like a peach and have near-meltdowns over sharp objects especially if I get pricked by one.

Have you ever played the game Halo? I don’t think so. I could have watched others play it in the past, but I’ve never played the game myself.

Are you wearing any jewelry at the moment? No I’m not.

Is there a sport that you love to play? Table tennis! Futsal was also fun the one or two times I played it, and it was in playing that sport that I learned I apparently make a good goalkeeper. In an alternate universe I probably play football, ha.

Has anything made you sad in the past 48 hours? Yes. That’s a constant state of mind now.

Have you ever had to learn lines for a play/skit/movie? Yes. We were required to do so many skits in high school so making scripts and memorizing lines was part of a normal day.

Do you like your nose? I’ve never complained about it. I don’t normally think about my nose either.

Is there a hair color you prefer on the opposite sex? No.

Kissing someone with facial hair, do you mind? I’ve never tried it, so I don’t have a solid opinion.

Would you ever like to be a stunt person? Sounds fun but I’m barely physically fit for such a role and I’d break a bone almost immediately. Even professional stunt people get injured, so...

Are you a pyromaniac? The furthest thing from it. I’m terrified of fire.

How soon is your birthday? Six months and a day.

Are you one of those people who listen to songs on repeat? Isn’t everyone prone to doing that once in a while? But yeah, I guess I’m ‘one of those’ people.

Can any of your friends sing very well? Lots of em. Hannah, Tina, Ed, Andi, Michelle, Nacho, etc.

Would you ever enter any kind of pageant? That does not sound interesting to me.

Do you have piano fingers? No :(

What is your preferred curse word? Fuck.

When someone's drunk, the truth comes spilling out, correct? I guess, for some people. Other people express their drunkenness in other ways. But I for sure lose my filter once I’m drunk; it’s a lot easier to ask me questions once I’ve had a few glasses, ha.

Have you ever shouted something random at someone out a car window? I’m sure I’ve rolled down my windows to cuss out a stupid driver once or twice.

Have you ever slept on a beach? No. I know my mom does, but I personally find it risky/dangerous. When it comes to open spaces like the beach, I find it hard to trust people to not be thieves.

Would you like to be taller? It’s not an active wish of mine. It’d always be cool to be taller, but I’m also okay with my current height.

Are you a fan of piercings on the opposite sex? Not necessarily. I wouldn’t say I’m attracted to them.

Have you ever listened to Celtic music? Nope.

Do you enjoy making up words? I’ve never done that, no.

Have you ever been attacked by an animal? Aside from the time a giant bird kind of charged at me at a safari and getting playbites from Cooper, no. Cats hiss at me all the time, but I get out of their vicinity before they can attack me or whatever.

Who did you dance with last? Rita, Blanch, Mik, Laurice, Jum, a bunch of strangers.

When holding hands, do you intertwine fingers? Yeah. That’s my favorite.

Is there a movie that makes you cry every single time you watch it? This is gonna get some eyerolls but...Titanic. Forever one of my faves no matter how overrated people find it, hahaha. The “Rose Dawson” scene gets me all the time.

Do you ever talk to the TV? I mean if I have comments about the show I’m watching, yeah I guess I’m technically talking to the TV. But I don’t talk to the TV like a camera, if that’s what you mean.

What's your opinion on Johnny Depp? I feel for him and all the shit he’s gone through with Amber Heard. I’ll always feel bad for having sided with Amber in the past. Movie-wise, not really a fan of his repertoire but I respect his craft and abilities nonetheless.

Have you ever watched the Tudors? Nah but I hear of it a lot, so I’ve always been interested.

Can you speak in different accents? No. My dad’s super good at accents though since he travels a lot for his job. He can do American, Indian, Singaporean, Chinese, Australian, etc.

Who was the last person you mocked/mimicked? The annoying person at the BIR who wasted my time. 

If you write, isn't writer's block the most horrible thing? I’d say it’s inconvenient, but it’s not the worst of my worries whenever it strikes.

Can you sew or knit? No but I’ve made up my mind about learning how to :) I put some cross-stitch kits on my online shopping cart recently and I can’t wait to get my hands busy.

Do you have a favorite pair of jeans? Yesssss. They’re the only pair of jeans I wear these days, on the rare times I have a reason to go out.

What size shirt do you normally wear? XS.

Are you good with money? I’m good with saving if I absolutely have to, but I’m equally good at spending all my money in one go lol

Has anyone ever aimed a gun at you? No. Don’t know how well I’d fare in that; I tend to freeze up and forget words when I’m terrified.

What is the first letter of the person's name you last kissed? G.

Do you use myspace for following celebrities, and facebook for friends? I never regularly used Myspace, and Facebook is for sharing memes, staying updated on the news, and connecting with family and friends. At least up until I deactivated last month.

Have you ever written a song? Maybe in grade school when it was an assignment for class, but never on my own time.

Do you believe there is life on other planets? Other planets in other galaxies perhaps in other universes, sure.

If you think about the universe long enough, it's baffling isn't it? Doesn’t take long for me, but yes it is.

When was the last time you fell? I haven’t in a while.

Are you a fan of Christian Bale? I wouldn’t say so. I don’t think I’ve seen any of his movies. I’ve been meaning to watch American Psycho for years but just never got around to it.

Do you have any sort of debt? No.

Is there an accent you prefer? I don’t know if prefer is the right word since I don’t have any favorite accents, but hmmm I can listen to Florence Pugh’s accent all day.

Have you spoken to the person you love today? Yep.

Would you ever travel to Los Angeles? If given the chance sure, but I honestly prefer other cities.

Have you ever been through a natural disaster? A lot of them.

Is there a specific time period that interests you? I don’t think I’ve ever been hooked to just one specific era...I’m interested in all of them and read about them an equal amount.

Do any of your friends own an expensive car? JM used to drive a Lexus to school on Fridays.

Have you ever been on a train? Just once. I had to go to Manila for a journalism class but I wasn’t willing to drive all the way there, so I took a train and had Jum keep me company because I didn’t know how commuting worked.

Is there a memory that embarasses you to think about? I mean yeah, there are a lot.

Have you ever used different colored paper clips? Possibly.

Where exactly are you right now? In a corner in my room.

Don't you admire those people who know exactly what they want to do? I admire anyone who’s able to make the best of what they’ve got, no matter what their progress is in life. Life shouldn’t be a contest of who gets their shit figured out the earliest or the best way possible.

Is there a guy you can talk to about anything? No.

Have you ever been in a parade? I know I said in a previous survey that I haven’t been to a parade, but now that I think about it I’ve been to several Pride Marches, which kinda count as parades...so yeah, I have been.

Would you ever consider being a news reporter? My entire family wanted me to end up being one, but it was never an interest of mine. I was just too shy to tell them that that’s not really my goal. I like staying behind the camera for the most part.

Are you, or anyone you know, an atheist? Yes and yes, I know several people who are.

Has anyone ever told you to "get a grip"? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten those exact words before.

Do people say you look your age? Or younger or older? Younger.

Have you ever sent a celebrity fan mail? Kind of. Five years ago my friend Heather and I were at YouTube Fanfest where Joe Sugg, Caspar Lee, and Oli White were part of the line-up, and we didn’t anticipate that so many fans would come with gifts even though there was no guarantee of meeting them. We came up with a little gift of our own, which was really nothing more than a tiny post-it saying that we love them lmao (we went to the venue straight after school, hence Heather having school supplies HAHA). It was such a poor-looking gift. We went to their assistant who was SUPER nice about it and didn’t make us feel like shit for our gift which was pretty much worthless and could easily get lost – it was literally a piece of post-it. I doubt it ever got to them, but we gave it a shot anyway.

Are you ashamed of how you acted when you were younger? Some parts of it, definitely. I grew up in a violent household, so I was violent towards my brother when he was a baby, not knowing how serious my actions were. I was also a pain in the ass while I was going through puberty.

Do you ever have those days where you feel you're the ugliest person ever? Yes.

Beauty is both external and internal, correct? Sure.

Have you ever been in a musical? Yeah, in grade school through high school. Never had a solo role, though.

When was the last time you swam in a pool? July 2019.

Is there a friend's family that makes you feel like you're family too? Angela’s. At one point, Katreen’s too, before we grew apart.

How do you know someone is your best friend? When I don’t feel like filtering my words around them, and when I allow myself to be fully vulnerable with them.

When was the last time you used a highlighter? Sometime in February I’m guessing. Before the lockdown and when I still went to school and had readings.

Has a flashlight ever ran out batteries on you in the dark? I don’t think so.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Bad Day

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N has an absolute shit day at work and Bucky tries to make his girl feel better. 

Word Count: 2,158

A/N: This is honestly about me. Like to the quotes the reader says. It’s pure wish fulfillment. Honestly, I was just really frustrated and needed to write to vent. Because I don’t know what else to do. LOL. 

It’s like Bucky could sense something was off as soon as he heard the apartment door close. Y/N was getting home from work a couple hours later than usual. It happened sometimes. She worked really hard and wasn’t coy about it.

But Bucky knew this wasn’t just another late night as soon as he saw her face. Steve and Sam, seated on either side of him, hadn’t turned their eyes away from the TV yet.

She was frowning. Her usual smile at coming home to him was missing. Her posture was off and she didn’t even look over at them.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky greeted quietly.

Steve and Sam looked over at her then, smiles on their faces as they were about to greet her.

“Hey, Y/N!” Steve said cheerfully.

“What’s up, girl?” Sam teased.

“Hey, guys,” Y/N barely looked over as she replied. But she played her part well, putting on a polite smile and giving the right amount of energy. It was good enough to fool them. But it wasn’t good enough to fool her boyfriend.

Y/N grabbed a bottle of wine and poured herself a heavy glass before walking into her bedroom, closing the door softly, and leaving the three of them to their guys’ night.

Bucky heard her turn on the shower. He’d give her some space to herself before he checked on her.

Luckily, the baseball game was over by the time Y/N was out of the shower, and Steve and Sam decided to call it a night and head back to the compound.

Bucky was grateful, now able to fully tend to his girlfriend.

He slowly walked to the bedroom and carefully walked in. Y/N was laying in bed, her hair combed but wet. The TV was on with some silly reality show on. Bucky teased her for watching them, not understanding how anyone found them entertaining. “Sometimes I just want to watch something that doesn’t require me to think,” she would reply.

Her glass of wine was nearby, sitting on the nightstand. She had already almost finished it. 

Her face was clean and she was only wearing her underwear with one of Bucky’s giant t-shirt’s draped over her. 

The sight always brought a warm feeling to Bucky’s heart when he saw her in his clothes.

“You okay?” He asked her quietly.

“Mhmm,” she lied without taking her eyes off the TV. “I didn’t want to intrude on guys’ night.”

“You could never intrude on guys’ night, doll. Steve and Sam like you more than they like me.” Bucky chuckled softly.

Then he walked closer to the bed and sat on the edge. She still watched the TV. But now that he was closer, Bucky saw the red in her eyes. She probably let herself cry in the shower. Bucky knew she hated when he saw her cry. She hated crying in general, feeling like it made her weak. So she always tried to hide it from him. 

He was still working on helping her get over that.

Bucky touched her knee, gripping it gently in comfort. The feeling of his skin on hers finally made her look at him.

“Bad day at work?” Bucky asked after awhile.

Y/N’s lip trembled as she tried to hold back her tears. She just nodded. She should’ve known that she wouldn’t be able to hide it from him.

“Is it that same guy again…Stephen?” Bucky asked with annoyance.

“He’s just such a dick to me! I don’t fucking get it!” Y/N groaned in frustration. “He literally talks to me like I’m less than human. Every time I do something for him, he acts as if I’m an inconvenience.” She shook her head. “I know I shouldn’t let it get to me. But no one has treated me this way since I was in middle school. I thought people grew out of this shit!”

Bucky’s jaw tensed. He could protect his girl from a lot of things. But he was utterly powerless from protecting her from jerks, particularly ones at her work.

“If someone treated me this way outside of work, I’d be able to call them out and ask them why they were being such a fucking asshole. But that’s what’s frustrating: I can’t. I just have to take it,” She added.

Bucky had enough and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

“Trust me…I know you can look out for yourself.” Bucky smirked into her hair. He’d seen her bad sad. Lucky for Bucky, it was never aimed at him. But he knew she could stand up for herself and anyone she cared about.

He looked away to at her. “You want me to kill him? You know no one will ever find the body.” He joked. Obviously he could do it, but he knew she would never ask it of him.

She laughed, which is exactly what he was trying to get her to do.

“No, but I do wish something terrible would happen to him. Like…like…he gets a flat tire or embarrasses himself in front of our CEO.”

“That’s it?” Bucky asked.

“Well, maybe I’d like him to break his leg or something.”

“I can make that happen,” Bucky offered. “It’ll look like an accident. I promise.”

Y/N laughed even harder and shoved his chest playfully. “Enough with the threats, Buck! We’re not going to hurt him!” She managed to say between laughs.

“There they are,” Bucky cooed.

“What?” She asked.

“That smile and laugh,” Bucky muttered.

She kissed him softly, lingering a bit. “Sorry, Buck.”

“For what?”

“For complaining about my stupid work drama.”

Bucky caressed her face then, making her look up at him. “Doll, you got nothin’ to be sorry for.” His Brooklyn accent slipped out. “Anything that upsets you is important to me. No matter how silly it is.”

Then he sighed and kissed her forehead. “I just wish I could do something to fix it. I know I was joking about killing him. But I really do want to show the punk a lesson.”

“Down, boy.” Y/N teased with a little giggle.

“I’m serious, doll.” Bucky pouted.

“I know you are,” Y/N gave him a sad smile. “And if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t mind watching you rough him up a bit. But I like my job – at least when I’m not talking to him – and I’d rather not get fired because my boyfriend threatened and hurt one of my coworkers.”

Then she stared into his blue eyes for a moment, “And you are fixing it. You made me feel better.”

“You sure it wasn’t the wine?” He challenged.

Y/N gasped melodramatically before grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it.

—————

Bucky had insisted on coming to Y/N’s Christmas party. She tried to make him stay at home, but he wasn’t having it.

“Bucky, I compartmentalize my life. Most of my coworkers don’t even know I have a boyfriend. And almost no one knows it’s Bucky Barnes.” Y/N had tried to explain.

“Yeah, but Sam and Nat told me how these things go. It’s where everyone shows off their significant others. I’m not going to make you go alone!”

“Buck, I promise it has nothing to do with you. I would love to show you off. But my work life is my work life, my personal life is my personal life. I don’t even let my coworkers follow me on social media!”

“I get it, doll. Really… I do.” Bucky sighed. “But these people get to see you every day. You spend almost half your time with them. And I don’t know anything about ‘em. I don’t even know what they look like."

“You do know about them and what they look like because you had FRIDAY do background checks on all of them,” Y/N pointed out with an unamused look.

“I worry about you. And I will not apologize for that,” he replied firmly.

But that was that: Bucky was going to Y/N’s holiday party.

She was stressed about her coworkers’ reaction to her boyfriend being the Winter Soldier. But she couldn’t lie, it was nice to have a sidekick at the event. She was usually alone at functions like these.

Bucky made sure to give Y/N the necessary space. She was fiercely protective of her independence. While it intimidated the men of her past, it was the thing that made Bucky so enamored with her in the first place. He made sure to never threaten it.

Bucky was getting another drink. It was kind of pointless. The only buzz he could manage was from Thor’s Asgardian liquor. Drinking the regular stuff was just for show. 

Bucky watched his girl, from across the room, as he waited for the bartender to make him an Old Fashioned.

There were a group of coworkers surrounding her as she animatedly told a story. Everyone was laughing and smiling as they listened closely. Y/N could charm a whole room if she wanted. Bucky smirked at the sight.

“Excuse me… I don’t mean to bother you,” a voice behind him tore Bucky’s gaze away from Y/N. “But are you James Barnes?”

Bucky turned around to see a man looking at him carefully. Were they scared? Were they a fan? It was hard to tell.

“I am,” Bucky responded evenly.

“Hi! I’m a huge fan. I grew up reading about you.” The man rushed out.

So, he wasn’t scared. 

“I’m Stephen,” he thrusted his hand forward to shake.

A spark lit as soon as the man said his name. Stephen. He was the one that was constantly an asshole to Y/N. Bucky ground his teeth together.

Any type of friendliness he planned on exuding disappeared.

Bucky decided to shake Stephen’s hand, but did so just a little bit too tightly. He saw Stephen try to hide the grimace from the pain.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Bucky.” Stephen smiled through the hold.

“It’s James, actually. Only my close friends call me Bucky.” That was a lie.

Stephen blinked, suddenly caught off guard.

Then Bucky clenched the first of his left hand, knowing exactly how to make the plates in his arms whirl a bit. The sight and sound of it tended to make people uncomfortable. But that’s exactly what he was trying to do.

“I don’t mean to be rude. But what are you doing here?” Stephen tried to push off the new awkwardness and continue talking to his hero.

“My girlfriend works with you. You said Stephen, right?” Bucky asked.

The man nodded.

“So then you must be the guy who’s the total ass to Y/N.” His voice was low and even. His eyes were threatening as he right eyebrow quirked.

Stephen swallowed thickly. “I…uhh…I…”

“It wasn’t a question,” Bucky interrupted his stuttering.

“You’re-You’re Y/N’s boyfriend?”

“Yeah, and I know all about how you treat her.” Bucky answered. Then he leaned forward, gripping Stephen’s shoulder tightly as he lowered his head to match his eye-line level. “I’m going to say this once, because she can’t. If she comes home complaining about you treating her like crap again, I’ll come after you.”

Stephen was trembling under his grip and Bucky could see sweat dripping down the side of his face from the threat.

“And if you mention this little conversation to anyone, especially Y/N, I’ll know. And then I’ll make sure you regret it.” Bucky was calm, yet so terrifying. “Do we have an understanding?”

Stephen nodded frantically.

“I’m not hearing you say anything, Stephen.” Bucky reprimanded.

“Y-Yes, I understand.”

Bucky pulled away with a charming smile and patted Stephen’s shoulder, “Good.”

Suddenly, Y/N returned to her boyfriend’s side. Bucky immediately wrapped an around around her and showed no signs of just threatening her coworker. 

“Oh, hey, Stephen! Did you two get a chance to meet?” She tried to play polite. Since she couldn’t confront or retaliate with Stephen’s cruelty, she tried to kill him with kindness.

“Yeah,” Stephen muttered before turning and quickly walking away.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “That’s the guy who’s always a dick to me…as you can see.”

Bucky feigned innocence and surprise. “Oh, that’s the guy?”

“Mhmm,” Y/N hummed before taking a sip of champagne. “God, I fucking hate him.” But then she was turning in his arm to face him. “Thank you for coming tonight. Now that you’re here, I don’t know why I was so against you coming with me.”

“Thanks for letting me, doll.” Bucky replied before giving her a quick kiss. He had been trying to keep his hands to himself, knowing Y/N wasn’t fond of PDA in front of her coworkers. But he just couldn’t help himself.

“But I’ve had my fill of socializing. What do you say we pick up a pizza and get out of these clothes to watch a Christmas movie at home?” Y/N offered playfully.

“God I love ya,” Bucky smiled.

--------

I did it! I wrote a one-shot that wasn’t 10,000 words!