#i had the movie for another 24 hrs and had to watch again

[formosusiniquis]

"What's better than one Marmalade? Three Marmalades."

And there are! There's three different Marmalades, each serving their own purpose in the story. There's Marmalade, the manic pixie dream girl that Baron makes up for Otis. There's Marmalade, the babydoll bandit, Baron, the 'real thing.' And there's Marmalade, Eda Lamram, the one that was the catalyst for the whole thing in the first place

[wetladss]

Day 24 - Mallorca

Woke up really early to get off the ferry. Ideally was hoping to get a solid 6 hrs of sleep and then feel fresh but didn’t play out that way. Had to squish on to a thin couch cushion with Thalia and the lights stayed on in the area so didn’t sleep well. We got off and drove out of the immediate city. Saw people who were finishing their big nights out which made me wonder how many people were on the small island. Nearly 1 million which explained why it was still a bit active. We drove for a little bit and found a spot with some other campers to sleep through the morning. Woke up when it started getting too hot and we explored the area around us. There were some cool cliff rocks that were over the water. We headed to the nearby town for some breakfast but nothing too exciting. We then headed towards one of the famous beaches which was really busy. It was a peninsula with a nice bay on one side and some small boat sheds surrounded by rocks on the other side. Really good swimming spot and it was a very nice place. We relaxed there for a while before heading back towards the city to grab some food and drinks from the supermarket. Then went back down the coastline to another beach which was more chill and had nice swimming. Made some sandwiches while we were there and had a bit of a swim around before deciding to camp near the really good beach again and wake up early to see it with no one around. We ordered some pizza and got a calzone thingy that was deep friend and had pistachio crème within it. This was pretty tasty. We made it to the beach again and we went for a night swim which was good as there was no one around on the beach. Good temperatures for it as well. We then camped at the car park for the night.

Day 26

We woke up and missed the sunrise. We headed down to the beach again for a swim. Few people around but a good amount. Not crazy like when we first rocked up. Afterwards we drove to the other side of the island to explore the hills and the other coastline. Very beautiful mountain village and at the end of it there were some very windy roads that took us down one of the mountains to the coast. It was a bit fatiguing and this must have been when my body started getting sick as I was knackered at the end of it. Luckily the bay that was at the bottom was very beautiful and had a walk to another beach that was surrounded by massive hills that had caves within them and then pointed out to crystal blue waters. We stayed for a little while before getting back on the road to make it back to the town. We got back and had some food that was kicking around in the van for a while. Pasta and veggies. Which was good because we hadn’t really eaten much veg while traveling. Mostly bread, pastries, meat and fat with various sauces. We had a swim and walked around and went to sleep after the big day. This also mark the beginning of me having the flu for the next couple of weeks which was a bit of a bummer.

Day 27

We woke up and went for a nude swim at the nude beach and then headed back to the city to catch the ferry back to Barcelona. Unfortunately the ferry was delayed. Getting off was delayed and the city had traffic that delayed the main fast road out of the city. Just watched movies and rested on the boat. Then when we escaped the city we stopped at a nearby town and had some Africans food which was delicious. Rices and meat and a delicious sauce. After that we headed up the coast a bit more and camped in a car park in a town just before the Spanish boarder.

Day 28 - Spain

We woke up and we went to a cafe nearby that was nice and well priced. We then began the drive on the coastline and stopped at a small coastal town called Cadaqués for some food. We continued on the winding roads and crossed the border and made it into France. Heaps of coastal towns between huge hills that would have cliffs overlooking the water. We stopped in the town of Collioure which was pretty. Typical castle in a bay with a nice beach and cute town. Taking it a bit easy as we've been sick and trying not to make it worse.

Day 29

Originally we were going to keep traveling up the coast and then return the car to Toulouse but we decided to travel to the Pyrenees mountains between France and Spain. We began our drive and headed toward Gorge De Galamus. We arrived early and it was an epic spot. A river ran between the mountains and there was a short walk to a chapel built into the mountains where someone back in the day was cured from a plague by bathing in the waters. Supposedly. There was also a small shop that made wicked sandwiches for 5 euros so that was a bonus. We chilled in that area all day and I sleeped a bit through the day to hopefully speed up recovery. It was a really nice spot to relax at.

Day 30 - Andorra

We waited for the sandwich shop to open and grabbed some food for the road. We headed higher into the mountains. We saw plenty of hydro stations along the way and some nice looking mountains. Eventually making somewhere around 1000m where there was a flattish area between even bigger mountains. Very cool area and because it was off peak season due to usually being a snow village for skiing. Roads weren’t too busy and accommodation was cheaper so we booked a spa and bath house in Andorra. We managed to travel through France and then Spain again so we covered three countries in one day which was a record for us. This was an interesting little town which didn’t have a lot going on. Sandwich between France and Spain historically had been used for tax evasion, smugglers and buying cheap goods. Weird town but the accommodation was beautiful and was really nice to relax at and have a shower, sauna and a swim. I had a mojito from the shop which was 1.30 euro which was nice but didn’t help my flu symptoms the next day.

Day 31 - Toulouse

Back to the town we started at. We checked out at 12 and headed into Andorra city center to check it out and see how cheap things were. Nothing too exciting so we set back off to Toulouse. We walked around the city when we arrived and had some Afghani food which was delicious. We had Mantu which was ravioli in a yogurt and tomato sauce and it was awesome. We drove to a park near the city and went for a walk and spent the night there afterwards.

Day 32

Spent most of the morning ready in the park and then watched a movie as I had gotten more sick and tired doing less to get over it. After that we had some accomodation booked in. We headed there and enjoyed having showers again and a bigger bed. Just Netflix and chilled for the rest of the day. Went to a nearby food hall for dinner and had a smash burger and some curry which was nice. Smash burger won this one though. Then headed back home and watched the live action avatar of the last airbender.

Day 33

Last day with the car. We drove it to where we picked it up and cleaned it. Filled it up with a little bit of fuel as luckily we had filled it up at Andorra where prices were 1.29$ vs 1.65ish in Toulouse. After we dropped it off we grab some food from a cafe. Eggs, beacons and pancakes. And really bad ice coffee’s as it was all froth and a little bit of liquid at the bottom which had ice which melted instantly. We walked back to the accommodation and I rested and Thalia went to a pole studio for the afternoon. Had Uber eaten burritos for dinner and relaxed for the last night in France. The next day we were flying into Rome.

[mr-snailman]

travelogue day three 12/24/23

it was almost a good day. got up at 7:30 to get ready for church. the hotel has one of those little waffle makers and really what else do you need besides four walls a bed and a waffle maker? muddled through mass trying to stand sit and kneel when everyone else did. embarked on brief nostalgia tour of old hometown. stopped at preschool and lake louise. the trees are all taller now but so much is the same. wandering around with my little sister felt like stepping back into the past. had an allergy attack in the car while my stomach tried to eat itself— all things considered, maintained remarkably good spirits. drove to three different restaurants before finding a place to sit down and have Christmas dinner. wound up in a sports bar— which is how I learned, via multiple flatscreens, that they’re letting rob lowe host another game show. at first I suspected the commercial was a hunger-induced hallucination. sadly this is not the case. it was a good day until the drive back. mom and dad are fighting again. I don’t care enough to untangle all the reasons why. how many times have I had to put on a happy face for the holidays? but they can just do whatever, it’s fine. hoping to make dad watch terrible TV movie starring Bradley Whitford who he insists on referring to as JoLy (like JLo).

miles traveled: a nonzero number but no actual progress

hrs on road: again, nonzero number

alphabet games: none

[luna-writes-stuff]

Hey! I hope you're having a good dayyy

I saw ur requests are open and since ur lookin for sum,, can i request a thorin x reader fic (if ur still accepting hehe) where the story is similar to the ending part of the movie Artificial Intelligence (idk if you've watched that but ye the ending goes like this:

The boy (main character) wished to be with his mother again one last time, if only for a day :(( And so the aliens granted him this wish bbbut the mom didn't know she was already dead like after the sciency stuff, she woke up just like it was an ordinary day, and when the 24 hrs was up, she went back to sleep not knowing that that was the last time they'll be together :<<

So I was thinking maybe botfa?, either the reader or thorin died and then ^^^ anywayyy the magic is up to you ✨

I hope ur cool with dat,, if not that's perfectly fineee HAHA

One last day, Thorin Oakenshield

Just reading this request left me suffering. I hope I did your idea justice,,,,

anyways;

Headcanons, genderneutral pronouns

Tw: Pain. Lots of pain. Angst. Pain. Flashbacks to botfa. Pain.

- Thorin’s death had been the most difficult on you. You were left alone to rule a kingdom you didn’t have any experience with. Balin had helped you immensely, yet with every step you took, you felt as if you only worsened the kingdom.

- During the Battle of the Five Armies, you had been fighting on the other side of the planes, separated from your One. By the time you reached him, he had already left this world. You hadn’t even gotten a proper chance to say goodbye.

- And that thought had haunted you ever since that horrible day. Everyone had watched you dwelling, trying to guide others while you were unable to guide yourself.

- And then Gandalf finally decided that enough was enough. He had offered to help you say goodbye. If it would bring you closure, he’d do it for you. His terms were simple: he would bring Thorin back for one day, no more, no less.

- And you agreed, for obvious reasons. Perhaps a opportunity to say farewell would help you progress his death better. You had spent the entire evening thinking about what to tell him and what to do. You had been thinking non stop, until sleep finally caught up with you.

- The next morning, you (surprisingly) hadn’t woken up to the bright sun shining through your windows. It wasn’t the laughter and talking in the halls. It hadn’t been Balin knocking at your door. It had been snoring that woke you up. For weeks you had gone to sleep on your own, with nothing but darkness and silence surrounding you. But now, a snoring was heard. One that hadn’t been there the night before.

- You carefully turned around, but stopped halfway, noticing an arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Your eyes quickly followed the trail of arms to hands, trying to understand exactly what was happening. The excitement of yesterday had washed your sense of reality within a matter of hours.

- Your breath had caught in your throat upon recognizing the hands. The rings it held, the small hairs resting on top of it, the way the fingers were shaped, but more importantly, the way they held you, the thumb resting gently as the rest of the hand held onto you. It had indeed been Thorin. Your Thorin.

- Tears had already started gathering in your eyes, harsh reality settling in. This was only for one day, but he was back. He was alive. Back with you.

- As the tears blurrier your vision, the quietest sniffle escaped your throat. Suddenly, the snoring beside you had stopped, an annoyed yet confused moan following it.

- You tried your best to get a hold of your emotions, but it was difficult when a scientifically dead person lay right next to you, as alive as you had been.

- “Amrâlîme,” he softly uttered, his voice deeper than usual, laced with sleep and confusion. Only hearing his voice again made another sob escape you, “are you alright?”

- His arm turned you around, now coming face to face with him. His hair was up in his usual braids, yet it was a bit tousled. He had his normal sleep attire on. Everything appeared as if it had been a normal morning. No injuries or blood covered his face and his eyes held life, instead of the horrifying look they had held when you saw him last time.

- Yet, as life had been shining from them, so was confusion and worry. His earlier question finally reached you and for once, you had no idea how to respond. What would you have to tell him. Would you give him the cold hard truth or enjoy your day of pretentiousness?

- “Just a bad nightmare.” You answered, trying to wipe your tears away. With no words left spoken, Thorin dragged you into his chest, your head resting on top of his heart. His beating heart. The sound of it alone, resurfaced a new pair of tears, your hands clinging onto his shirt tightly, holding him for a while, not ready to let go yet.

- Thorin had no idea what was happening or what had happened. In his eyes, you indeed just had a terrible nightmare and needed his comfort now more than ever. No nightmare has ever left you this shaken up, but he wasn’t there to ask you about it or to judge you about. He was content just laying next to you.

- The entire morning was just spent in bed, not even speaking that much, just holding onto each other, softly dozing off again, happy to be engulfed in his warmth and smell again.

- When finally deciding to get up, Thorin had been quick to grab you close to him, already busying himself with braiding your hair. The feeling had grown foreign to you, yet so nostalgic.

- As it became your turn to braid Thorin’s hair, you made sure you did your absolute best. Making them look perfect on your definite last day with him. You tried not thinking about it too long, knowing Thorin would grow concerned, and that was not how you wanted to spend your last day with him.

- When walking along the empty halls of Erebor, you held onto his arm, walking with him as if you were seeing the halls for the first time. He would tell you stories about the portraits or the stone that was being carved before Smaug took over. He would tell you about his heritage as he had done a thousand times before when in the Hall of the Kings. And you’d listen to it all. Occasionally offering a short question or a well appreciated comment.

- You had taken the opportunity to ask him about ruling and how to best approach certain situations, making sure to remember him after he’d be gone again. That way, there would still be a bit of him in control of the mountain.

- But the day had quickly run by, leaving you with only a few hours. You tried to make him stay awake all night, but Thorin was always looking forward to sleep. It had been there ever since the day the two of you met. His favorite time of the day had always been night, so he could let his worries fade away as sleep took him over, you content in his arms.

- And then you decided to finally ask that lingering question. Without thinking about it too long, you just asked him straight forward; “Thorin, I have a bit of a weird question to ask you.” You began. Immediately; his attention was on you, holding onto your hands gently.

- “Would all of this make it possible for you to die a happy dwarf?” A bewildered look flashed across his face, clearly taken aback by the question. “What makes you ask me that?”

- Now you had been driven in a corner. You had no idea how to respond. Should you be honest with him? Did you really have choice?

- Yet, a quick lie suddenly came to your rescue. “Just the nightmare I had tonight.” You explained, rubbing your thumbs over his hands. With that answer, Thorin smiled at you, one of his hands cupping your face, his figure stepping even closer to you.

- “With you by my side, I’d die anywhere a happy dwarf.” He commented sincerely.

- “You truly mean that?” You had questioned, not knowing if he had been just trying to soothe you or actually speaking the truth. But then yet again, Thorin had never been one for lying.

- “With all my heart, Amrâlîme. Truly.” And with that, he put a soft, yet lingering kiss on your lips, making you wish you could stay like that forever. You had believed him the moment he had uttered these words.

- “Now, I’m exhausted. We should go to sleep. It’s been a long day.” The dwarf concluded, toying with the end of your braids before dropping them. You mustered a tiny smile his way before climbing into bed.

- In a matter of moments, Thorin had been beside you, his arm around you like it had been this morning. You snuggled into his chest, playing with the rings around his fingers as his breath softly tickled your neck. Only now, your tears resurfaced.

- He hadn’t feared dying. Not as long as you had been with him. And you had been. For nearly all your life. You placed a small kiss on his hand. It was your small way of saying goodbye and thank you, but he didn’t know. For him, it had been a small sign of saying “I love you.”

- “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kurdel. Sleep well.” Thorin mumbled, placing his lips on your lips, a regular goodnight kiss he’d give you. But it wouldn’t suffice this day.

- You turned around, wrapping your arms around him as you kissed his lips in response.

- “I love you, Thorin. You do know that, right?” You mumbled against his lips, nearly touching them.

- “Of course I do. Men lananubukhs menu, ghisvashel.” He whispered back, kissing you once more.

- When you were finally happy with your goodbye, you laid your head on his chest, satisfied to hear it beating for a moment. The soft tapping of it lured you to sleep after a while. Thorin followed you shortly after it, always falling asleep only after you had. He was holding onto your hands, a proud smile on his face.

- And that’s how he left again. Happy, with you in his arms, knowing he had reclaimed his homeland.

- Upon waking up the next morning, you hadn’t even been that sad anymore. You knew Thorin died a satisfied man, and it was enough to bring you the comfort you needed. And finally, after a long few months, you felt confident enough to take the mountain into strong hands, ruling it as he would have. The braids he had made the morning earlier were still freshly in your hair, somehow seemingly untouched. And you left it like that, happy to care the smallest bit of him around with you.

[kats-kradle]

Febuwhump day 28: presumed dead (yes i know its a day late)

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis

Whumpee: Ronon Dex

Word count: 1,554

Notes: of course my wifi would crash for over 24 hrs on the last day of febuwhump smh. ayway my first fic in the present tense! surprisingly it went well

 <><><><>

Ronon doesn’t cry at the funeral. He’s too in shock to fully grasp the fact that Beckett’s gone to really register what’s going on around him. It’s not until the box is being lowered into the ground that he realizes with a sharp exhale that Beckett is in that box, not in the infirmary, and he instinctively takes a small step forward with a hand half-reaching out for the wooden grave before it closes uselessly and falls to his side. John lays a hand on his arm as they watch a shovelful of dirt hit the blue flag on the coffin. A broken sob flies out of Beckett’s mother.

“My wee baby,” she whispers to herself. A woman with curly hair and a smile that could’ve have lit up a room if it hadn’t been so sad squeezes the older woman’s shoulder comfortingly. Ronon doesn’t know if she’s a relative or just a friend. He realizes that he knows very little about Beckett. Perhaps he should’ve tried harder to know him better.

Another shovelful of dirt hits the flag, breaking the clean white lines that stretch over the solid blue. Ronon always favored Beckett’s flag over the others on the base. Something about the simple design was always both interesting and pleasing to him.

“It’s the flag of Scotland,” Beckett had proclaimed proudly once when Ronon asked about the patch on his sleeve, “I should take you there someday, I think you’d like it! Oh, and my mother would just adore you. You’re coming with me if you ever go to earth.”

Ronon clutches the same patch in his hand tightly. The sharp velcro digs into his hand. He’s not supposed to have it.

He doesn’t care.

The walk back through the gate to Atlantis is just as solemn as the one out had been. Rodney veers off immediately, muttering something about working in his lab. John sighs as he watched him go, but he wanders off towards the infirmary, wanting to give Teyla a report of the funeral.

Ronon puts the patch on the sleeve of the jacket that he never wears. It hangs in the corner of the room in an almost mocking way. Look what you’ve lost, it says every night when he lays down to sleep. Look how foolish you were for loving something again.

<><><><> 

He tries to leave. He doesn’t know how else to react to the situation but to run as far and as fast as he can until he has nothing worth losing anymore. Teyla catches him one night while he’s shoving some clothes in a bag. They both freeze when she walks in the room.

“Are you going somewhere?” she asks. It’s more of an accusation. Ronon ducks his head.

“I’m leaving.”

“Where will you go?”

He shrugs. “Somewhere I don’t have to care anymore.”

Ronon thinks Teyla is about to yell at him, but a great, heaving sob flies out of her instead. She covers her mouth as she sinks to the ground. It scares Ronon more than anything he’s ever seen, and he’s by her side in an instant. He holds her tightly as she chokes out apologizes between her sobs.

He doesn’t try to leave after that. He takes more notice of his friends: Rodney walks through the halls now as though he were one of those undead creatures from one of those earth movies. Teyla looks constantly exhausted, her voice thick with grief and her eyes always red. John, too, looks exhausted; his shoulders more slumped than not, and he stares into the distance with a pained look at various intervals. Ronon makes it his personal mission to watch over them, maybe in an attempt to busy himself to the point of detaching himself from his feelings. He brings Rodney the meals that he forgets to eat, he leads John back to bed on the nights he stays in the shooting range for hours with a blank look in his eyes, and he sits silently with Teyla on the days that she can’t seem to leave her room, holding her close and letting her cry.

They all could cry.

Ronon almost envies them for that. He feels like he’s drowning, his lungs exploding in a desperate need of relief, his heart struggling to carry a massive weight.

He ignores it.

<><><><> 

One night he wakes with a start from a bad nightmare, jumps to his feet and looks around the room wildly as he fully wakes up. The adrenaline fades quickly. He collapses next to his bed, cradling his head in his hands. It’s a Tuesday, Beckett’s turn for night shift. Ronon can recall almost countless occasions where he would wander to the infirmary self-consciously after a nightmare, and Beckett would say nothing, but give him a kind smile and let him sit there until the sun came up.

Ronon doesn’t cry at the thought of finding the infirmary empty. Not that it is; they’ve replaced Beckett with another doctor, but the whole base seems as if its soul has been ripped from it. Ronon doesn’t know why that doesn’t make him cry. Maybe deep down he knows that if he lets himself mourn then he has to accept the awful truth that his friend is... gone.

Maybe he’s just a bad person, a bad friend.

He doesn’t go back to sleep after that. He wanders the halls aimlessly instead, and ends up in the training room. At lunch the next day when Teyla lays a gentle, questioning hand on his battered one, her eyes searching his, he pulls away without a word. She watches him leave with worried eyes that haunt him.

“I’m worried about you, Ronon,” John admits soon after that during a bout of sparring. “I know you’re trying to ignore that you’re hurting.” Ronon huffs and says nothing, merely redoubling his efforts to get John on the ground. John wins that sparring match. He’s been winning the matches for a while. Ronon allows himself to believe that it’s because John’s getting stronger, and not because Ronon seems to be getting weaker.

A few weeks later, he breaks a rib or two while on a mission. John orders him to the infirmary in a tone that leaves no room for arguing, and Ronon has every intention of going, he really does, but every step closer seems to ring louder and louder in his head. He hasn’t been there since...

He’s three steps away from the doors, and he turns and runs away as fast as he can.

John finds him slumped in a corner of the training room sometime later.

“I thought I told you to—”

“I can’t,” Ronon says shortly. “I tried. I... I can’t.” John sighs and says something into his radio that Ronon doesn’t catch. A few minutes later, a nurse comes into the room with an armful of supplies. Ronon recognizes her. He doesn’t know her name, but she usually worked Beckett’s shifts. She has a kind face. She leaves him with painkillers that he ignores until John lowers himself to the ground next to him and holds them out with a look that Ronon knows not to cross.

“You’d better keep up with these,” John tells him. Ronon nods, but they both know he won’t.

<><><><> 

It’s he can do to keep from falling over in shock when they open that door in Michael’s facility and Beckett is there. The doctor tries to talk to Ronon on the way back to Atlantis. His grin starts to falter at the lack of response and Ronon wants to reassure him, but he’s frozen in place. He can only stare.

It’s Rodney who finds him later, tucked into a corner in his room, clutching Beckett’s patch and staring blankly at the wall.

“You okay?” Rodney asks him awkwardly. Ronon can only shake his head.

They find out that Beckett isn’t Beckett, but a clone. Admittedly, it’s not the strangest thing they’ve encountered, but Ronon stays on his guard. He doesn’t trust the clone, despite the part of him that’s desperate to do so. Ronon refuses to speak to him, even when John nudges him sharply, even when Rodney glares at him. He has nothing to say. He knows that Beckett—not Beckett, Beckett’s dead, alone in a box in the ground—Beckett is hurt by the fact that he won’t do more than scowl in his direction. Ronon feels guilty every time the doctor’s face falls after another failed conversation, but he’s just... not ready yet.

And then Beckett is dying, and oh, Ronon wishes he hadn’t been so stubborn, he wishes he had just talked to him. When the doctor about to go into the stasis pod, Ronon finally speaks.

“This is exactly what I was afraid of,” he says quietly. Beckett gives him a small smile.

“I know, big man. Sorry.”

Ronon slips into the room that night and sits in front of the stasis pod with the patch in his hand. He tells Beckett about everything that’s happened in the last two years; Beckett told him once that people in comas can still hear you, and Ronon hopes it’s the same for stasis pods.

Tears fall onto the patch and stain the blue and white as he finally grieves for his loss.

[grasslandgirl]

Um, yes PLEASE write the Beverlin!

aaaaahhhhh lizz i wrote this AGES ago like the whole thing in the span of 24 hrs and kept meaning to post it and then forgetting to and blah blah blah and then here we are. anyway. she's long and sappy sorry not sorry

read golden as I open my eyes here on ao3!!

It was the kind of perfect summer evening that Beverly thought only happened in movies. They got ice cream from the local shop down the street after hanging out at the park all day, and an evening summer storm caught them mere minutes after Erlin had finally finished his cone on the walk home. The rain was cool against the hot concrete, a refreshing baptism following the heat of the summer day. The kind of day where everything was warm and joyous, and even sudden rushing rain couldn’t wash it away. They ran back to Erlin’s house, laughing and shouting, kicking the puddles forming in the street at one another- they were soaked already, what was the harm of a little more?

Beverly felt effortlessly young and happy, like he and Erlin were seven again and the world was simple. The pressure from his dad and school and the creeping uncertainty that’d started to follow Bev everywhere he went were washed away; and it was just him and Erlin.

He loved Erlin, of course. Loved him, maybe, as long as he’d known him. They’d been best friends for as long as Bev could remember, almost all of his early childhood memories included Erlin attached at his hip. It was the easy kind of childhood friendship where loving each other was never in question- until Bev turned fifteen and realized that he didn’t love Derlin or Cran the way he loved Erlin. That he didn’t imagine a life with his other friends, stretching forever into the future, like he did with Erlin. That he felt an awkward, twisting sensation in his stomach when he remembered the times they pretended to get married as children- huddled under a tree in Beverly’s back yard, holding hands, Bev with his mother’s apron draped over his shoulders, Erlin with flowers from their garden in his hair, promising to be best friends forever.

The feeling hung over Bev’s shoulders, the twin terrors of spending the rest of his life with his heart in a wrench everytime Erlin smiled at him, or telling Erlin the truth, only to lose him entirely.

But in the warm summer air, with cool rain droplets falling on his face and shoulders, Bev let the worry and the fear slough off- if only for the night. Nothing bad could happen; not when Erlin was laughing at him like he was, not when Bev could reach out and wipe a stray raindrop off the tip of Erlin’s nose, not when Erlin blushed bright red and watched Bev with wide eyes. They were electric and indestructible.

They were both soaked to the bone when they scrambled up the stairs to Erlin’s house, bursting through the door still laughing. Egwene shot them a glare from her perch at the kitchen island, but even that couldn’t break Bev’s giddy joy, not when Erlin was still giggling into his shoulder- both of them laughing at nothing. Egwene rolled her eyes, scowling back down at her book, but Bev caught the edge of a smile as he glanced back over his shoulder at her, before Erlin dragged him out of the kitchen and into the back of the house.

Erlin shoved an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats into Bev’s arms and pushed him towards the bathroom- “Take a shower, dude,” he demanded, the edge of his voice undermined by the fact that he still couldn’t stop laughing, his smile gone soft and slant. “You’re not getting sick again on my watch.” They fell into another peal of laughter, silently remembering when Bev caught a miserable head cold sleeping over at Erlin’s a few years past. Waking up to Erlin hovering over him, soup and tea in hand, before promptly spilling the long-since-lukewarm liquids all over Beverly as he sat up.

Bev had spent more nights at the Kindleaf house than he could count, the smell of Erlin’s shampoo was as familiar and comforting as his own. There was always a certain secret thrill whenever he ended up having to shower at Erlin’s. The idea of spending the next few days smelling like Erlin, his spiced mint shampoo and conditioner, wondering if Erlin noticed it as much as Beverly did.

When he finished, Bev threw his soaking clothes into the dryer- Erlin’s were already in there- and started it. He shot his mom a quick text that he was sleeping over at Erlin’s- an occurrence so common it barely warranted a warning text anymore- and shuffled through the suddenly silent house towards Erlin’s room.

Erlin was perched on his bed, hair soft and damp from his own shower, face lit from below as he peered down at his phone. The t-shirt he was wearing was a couple sizes too big- maybe one of Egwene’s old high school sports shirts, if Bev had to guess- and it draped over his shoulder and bunched up at his hip where his leg was propped up, knee to his chest. He hadn’t noticed Bev silently hovering at the door yet, and Beverly had the heartwrenching opportunity to watch Erlin at rest, in a quiet moment of solitude, unaware he was being watched.

Bev wrapped the image up in his mind, tying it with a bow and placing it on a shelf for safe keeping. He’d imagined a life, a future like this with Erlin more times than he could count- living together, sharing a room like this, seeing Erlin before bed every night and first thing in the morning every day. He could imagine a thousand moments like this, spread out over a lifetime; snapshots of intimacy and privacy taken from the inside of his and Erlin’s life together.

Beverly broke the moment, pushing the door to Erlin’s room wider as he walked in so it would squeak. Erlin looked up with a tired smile, reaching over to the lamp on his bedside table and clicking it on. The lamp cast a small bubble of golden light, Erlin and Bev on opposite edges of it.

Erlin had a trundle bed, a smaller mattress underneath his bed frame that rolled out on wheels, that he’d already pulled out and thrown a pillow atop of for Beverly. He’d loved the trundle when they were little, had thought it was so cool that Erlin had a built in place for him to sleep when he spent the night.

But the quiet, greedy part of Bev- the one that saved memories of Erlin blushing when he touched his face, the one that daydreamed about an impossible life together- wished they’d gotten rid of the second bed years ago. Wished that maybe, if there wasn’t a second mattress, Bev could come up with a reason for them to sleep together in Erlin’s bed. Innocent, back to back, with space enough for Egwene between them. But still, close enough that Bev could maybe feel Erlin’s warmth through his t-shirt, that maybe they’d wake up curled into each other.

More impossible dreams.

The shared giddy laughter had finally faded away, leaving them quiet and warm in the afterglow. Bev sat and settled cross legged on the little trundle bed, the old metal frame creaking slightly under his weight.

“Pancakes tomorrow?” Erlin asked.

Bev couldn’t help his grin. “Yes, obviously. The superior breakfast food.”

“Don’t let your mom’s sticky buns hear you say that sacrilege, dude.”

“Sticky buns are an all day food, not an explicitly breakfast food, Erlin. Duh.”

Erlin snickered quietly into his hand, and Bev felt the warm glow in his chest he felt every time he made Erlin laugh like that. “Okay, okay, fair enough.” Erlin reached over and put his phone down on his bedside table. Beverly tried not to look at the sliver of pale stomach that peeked out from beneath his overlarge t shirt as he leaned over. “You all set for the night?” Erlin asked, glancing at the blanket folded carefully atop the pillow beside Bev on the trundle bed.

Bev nodded, swallowing the gut desire to say something about sleeping in Erlin’s bed instead. “All good, dude. See you in the morning.” Erlin smiled at him again, a tired, happy thing, and clicked the bedside lamp off again, plunging them into perfect darkness.

Bev shuffled as quietly as he could under the blanket, burying his face in his pillow. He could still hear the rain outside falling on the roof, how the trees groaned and whipped in the wind. He tried to focus on that, as opposed to Erlin’s slow, heavy breathing. He was only marginally successful.

Bev fell asleep quickly, Erlin’s snuffling breaths and the hard patter of rain turning into a lullabye, and his body was still heavy and tired from running home through the rain.

He woke up, hours later, to the thin trundle mattress shifting but a sudden new weight.

At first, Bev thought it was just Erlin trying to climb out of bed- probably to use the bathroom- and stepping onto Bev’s mattress as he did. But as the mattress continued to shift, Bev realized Erlin wasn’t using the mattress as a stepping stone to get to his bedroom floor. He was lying down beside Beverly.

Bev’s eyes snapped open as a line of anxious ice trailed down his spine, reaching out with all his senses to try and figure out what was going on. He couldn’t see much beyond vague shadowy shapes in the darkness of the bedroom- the line of streetlight peeking out from beneath the window’s blinds, the outline of Erlin’s desk against the pale wall behind it, the curl of Erlin’s hair as he buried his face in his pillow. Beverly blinked away sleep, straining to make out the line of Erlin’s body. The curve of his head into his neck and shoulders, disappearing below the blanket Bev was using, the line of his spine into his legs, his bare feet peeking out the edge of the blanket. His face was buried in his pillow, scrunched up between the pillow Beverly was using and the edge of Erlin’s bed frame, his whole body curled into the small space like a small animal looking for safety. Beverly couldn’t tell if he was awake, or whether Erlin had crawled into bed with Beverly in a fit of sleepwalking- sleepcrawling? Either way, that’s probably what had woken Beverly up, the abrupt weight of Erlin crawling into bed beside him, settling onto the thin mattress. Erlin’s shoulder was no more than an inch from the center of Beverly’s chest, where he had been asleep, curled onto his side. If either of them shifted even a little, they would be touching.

Then, a quiet snuffle. Erlin shook his head and buried his nose further into his pillow- Beverly didn’t know how he could breathe like that, but if he strained, he could still hear it. Erlin’s breathing sounded different than it had when they were first falling asleep; faster, almost wet sounding, like he was- was Erlin crying?

Bev’s breath caught in his chest, and slowly he lifted his hand and placed it gently on the back of Erlin’s shoulder. He heard the snuffling sound again, and then felt Erlin sigh beneath his hand. And then, as though Erlin had never woken up, Beverly heard his breathing slow and deepen, his spine going loose beneath Bev’s palm. He was asleep. In bed with Beverly. Part of him wanted to shake Erlin awake again, ask why he was crying and why he crawled in bed with him and what did this mean?

But Bev was still exhausted, and half asleep, and the initial adrenaline of waking up had faded, leaving him in a room silent save for Erlin’s breathing. It felt dreamlike, as though Bev would blink and wake up to the early-morning sunrise, Erlin asleep in his own bed again. Bev didn’t want to question it, didn’t crave answers enough to shatter the dream- real or otherwise- he’d found himself in. So he closed his eyes, let himself listen to Erlin’s even breathing, and fell back asleep.

When Beverly blinked awake again, it was morning, and the moment in the middle of the night felt like nothing more than a sugar-sweet dream. The sunlight tore through the crack at the bottom of Erlin’s blinds, washing his room in burning golden light. It took Bev’s eyes a moment to adjust, a yawn hiking up in his chest as he started to stretch out.

All at once, his arm bumped into something warm and firm and Bev’s eyes adjusted enough to catch a pair of pale feet peeking out from beneath the edge of the blanket.

Erlin.

Beverly’s eyes snapped towards Erlin’s bed and caught on his best friend, lying on his side facing Beverly, still tucked between Bev and his bed frame. Still lying next to Bev. The fuzzy memory from the middle of the night slotted back into place, and Bev was suddenly aware of his feet tucked against Erlin’s shins; that he’d shifted, searching for warmth in the middle of the night.

Erlin was awake, his eyes soft and open, watching Bev with the kind of tentative warmth that Beverly recognized from inside his own chest, everytime he looked at Erlin.

“Oh,” Bev breathed, his arm settling back against the mattress from where he’d frozen, mid-stretch.

“Good morning?”

“You’re… really here. I thought I dreamed you.” Beverly mumbled, his brain still foggy with sleep, struggling to put the pieces together.

Erlin flushed, and Bev let himself watch how it started at his ears and spread inwards, along the line of his cheeks and up to his nose until his whole face was red. “I woke you up?”

“Only a little,” Bev tried for a joke, and Erlin smiled slightly, acknowledging.

“I… um-”

“Nightmare?”

Erlin nodded. “My parents. And Egwene, this time, and Nana. And-” he hesitated, scanning Beverly’s face- “and you.” A confession that Bev could almost piece together.

“Oh,” Bev breathed, the word punched from his chest.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked, I just- I wanted to know I wasn’t alone, but it felt silly to wake you-”

“Erlin. It’s fine. I- I didn’t mind.” That wasn’t fully true. “I liked it. I like waking up to you.” A confession in response, and Bev watched with bated breath as realization broke out over Erlin’s face.

“Oh.”

“Is that okay? I don’t- you’re my best friend, Erlin, and that means everything to me, and I don’t want to lose that. You. But- I just. I think about it. Sleeping beside you, and holding your hand when we go to the movies, and buying your ice cream for you, and all the little-”

“Boyfriend things?” Erlin whispered, his voice full of barely-veiled hope.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Erlin shifted forward on the mattress, just a little. “Kissing?”

Bev could barely find the breath to answer, terrified that one wrong move, one wrong word, and everything would come crumbling down around his ears. “Yeah.” Again, louder, more certain, “Yeah.” And then the important part, “What about-”

But before Beverly could finish his question, Erlin’s palm was on his cheek and he was leaning forward and then his lips were on Bev’s. They were warm and slightly dry and Bev could smell Erlin’s deodorant and shampoo and Erlin was kissing him. Bev combed his hand into Erlin’s curls- something he’d thought about doing more times than he wanted to admit- and pulled him closer, until their chests were touching and Bev felt electricity arc down his spine. Erlin’s hand was a warm, grounding presence on his face, and Erlin kept it there even when he eventually pulled away. His pupils were blown wide, all traces of sleepiness wiped from his face, and his cheeks were burned fire engine red.

“Yeah,” Erlin echoed, breathless for a different reason now. “Me too.”

Bev pulled his hand out of Erlin’s hair and wrapped it around the hand Erlin was still holding against his face, twisting their fingers together. Erlin’s flicked between their hands and Bev’s eyes. “Let me take you to dinner,” Bev said, more a plea than a question.

“Like a-”

“A date. Erlin Kindleaf, I’ve been thinking about this for years, please let me take you on a date.”

“Yeah, dude, yeah, yes-” And then Erlin kissed him again.

It was even better the second time. Erlin tilted his head a little so their mouths slotted together and his hand was still cradling Bev’s cheek. Bev dragged his hand up Erlin’s chest, wrapping his fingers around the place where his shoulder turned into his spine turned into the nape of his neck. Bev had always wondered what the softly curling hairs there felt like. Now he got to find out, twisting his fingers gently through them and pulling Erlin ever closer. Their noses bumped as Erlin sat up, sitting on his knees and shuffling forward until they pressed into Bev’s side on the mattress. Erlin’s hand finally moved from his face to grab onto his shoulder, and gently ran his other hand along Bev’s side- hip to stomach to ribs. Bev broke away as Erlin dragged his fingers along a ticklish spot on his ribs, tucking his face into the soft space at the top of Erlin’s shoulder with a helpless giggle.

It felt like they were back in the pouring rain from the night before, when everything was washed in blue light and cool water, the hot asphalt steaming as the rain evaporated. Where everything was light and joyous and exhilarating. Bev could feel Erlin laughing breathlessly, the way his shoulders jumped under Bev’s forehead, how his head shook with tiny rolling laughs. His hair brushed against Bev’s face, soft and smelling like the same herbal shampoo he’d used the night before.

It was that, more than Erlin agreeing to go on a date or kissing him, that finally made Bev realize that this was real. That he could have the kind of life he’d always wanted with Erlin; hundreds of nights curled into each other as they slept, arguing over who could pay for who’s dinner, making out at the movies during the credits (because neither of them would want to miss the rest of the film).

The morning was golden as Bev sat up and started to pepper Erlin’s face with tiny kisses until they were both laughing too hard to breathe.

Hours or minutes later, Egwene knocked briefly before ducking her head through the door to Erlin’s room- giving them barely enough time to leap apart, sprawled on opposite sides of the tiny trundle bed, red-faced and still shaking with laughter. She raised a silent eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

“Nana’s making breakfast, fuckers.” Her eyes jumped between Beverly and her brother, her forced scowl failing to hide the smile in her eyes. “Quit giggling to each other, let’s go.” She ducked back out of Erlin’s room leaving the door cracked as she stomped down the hall. Bev turned and grinned at Erlin, knowing it was as good as a blessing they were ever going to get.

“Pancakes?”

“Yeah.” Erlin grabbed Bev’s hand, dragging them both finally to their feet. “But not too many, we have dinner plans tonight.”

Bev pressed another kiss, quick and full of promise, to Erlin’s mouth. “Okay.”

The morning was golden, Bev could already smell the pancakes cooking, and he finally saw the future he wanted spread out before him; hand in hand with Erlin.

[iateyourdoggo-part2]

Chapter 4 (this chapter will probably be the sadist chapter and could be a smoll surprise at the end)

so im trying to make a chapter every 24 hrs... i think. so um thnx for reading my previous stories and pls enjoy this one!

key:

red = violence or de@th

orange = tw that arent violence (could be violent for u)

blue = able to read for everyone i hope

tw: violence (kidn@pping, @buse (slightly), r@pe (slightly, dw its not too much)), caps, de@th mention, siblings

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There was only 1 day until Saika's mother came home and it was today, and Saika obviously wasn't excited for that. Saika went for a walk until she got dragged into an ally by a masked person and was knocked out. She felt her surroundings as she was being dragged away. She couldn't see anything though. The floor was cold and the room was dark.

Saika's blindfold was taken off and there stood an old man who looked like a huge creep. Duct tape was on her mouth and her hands were tied. The old man walked up to her and started to touch her legs seductively. Saika was powerless. She tried to prevent the man by keeping her legs shut and kicking him. The creep was mad. He put up his fists when the creep fell to the floor. It was Aori! Aori helped untie Saika and took the tape off her mouth. Saika jumped into Aori's arms and cried. Aori started to cry too. They both felt a huge amount of pain of one person who was hurt.

Other footsteps were heard, slowly coming towards them. A small figure stood at the entrance.

"S-Saika-chan!?" Kinako cried. Tears were already falling down her cheek and ran up to Saika.

Saika let go of Aori and hugged Kinako. They both were relieved that they both were safe. Kinako was small and vulnerable. Saika hated that and didn't want anyone to force themselves onto her. Saika wanted Kinako to be hers more desperately than ever to protect her. The two loosened the hug and were now inches away from eachother's faces. Both quickly let go and turned around blushing very hard.

"W-we should go now," Kinako suggested, "It's very cold now..."

Everyone left the place and was back in the sun. The sun warmed them up until they were satisfied. Saika went back home to see her mother is already there.

"WHERE WERE YOU?!" her mother screamed.

"I-I w-was k-kidnapped," Saika replied stuttering. She still was crying a bit and her eyes were red.

"This is why I told you to marry a man. You're too weak to fight men off. Girl's are not fighters either. That is a man's job. You're so weak you couldn't even bribe the man with money instead!"

"COULD YOU STOP CALLING ME WEAK?!" Saika cried. Her eyes were filled with more tears. Tears of anger.

She felt a pain on her cheek to realizing her mother had slapped her.

"YOU DARE TO SPEAK TO YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT? YOU ARE SUCH A DISGRACE TO BEING LADYLIKE AND DEFINITELY A DISGRACE TO THIS FAMILY!" her mother screamed back.

"I WAS KIDNAPPED! YOU CARE ABOUT THE FAMILY, MONEY AND MEN WAY MORE THAN YOUR OWN DAUGHTER! YOU DON'T EVEN SPEND TIME WITH HER YOU DON'T REALIZE SHE IS SO DISTANT FROM YOU!"

"I AM NOT DISTANT WE ARE PERFECTLY FINE!"

"THEN WHAT IS MY FAVOURITE COLOUR!" "HA! ARE YOU STUPID? IT'S PINK!"

"HAHA WRONG! IT'S YELLOW AND IT ALWAYS HAS BEEN!"

"YELLOW IS A BOY'S COLOUR YOU DISGRACE! YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED INSTEAD OF YOUR FATHER!"

Saika's rage fell down by that last sentence. Her eyes widened in shock.

"Saika darling, I am very most sorry." her mother said, acting like nothing happened, "I have gotten a little non-ladylike. How silly of me!"

"W-what do you mean dad is dead?" Saika muttered.

"I-I.... um.. Don't worry! You can forget about him. He is already dead, and is the least successful of the family.", her mother replied calmly.

Saika stormed into her room went on her phone.

Kinako?

Hiya saika chan!

May I stay over your house for a bit?

of course!

Thank you!

get packed! i will meet u at the park!

Okay.

Saika got ready and packed her stuff. She walked downstairs and already saw a note on the kitchen bench.

Dear Saika,

I have left for a small break. I will be back and do not go anywhere.

Kind Regards,

Your mother.

Saika ignored it because she knew that her mother was going out to a fancy restaurant. Saika got to the park and saw Kinako again. Saika followed Kinako to her house and before they entered, Saika was warned.

"Be prepared, Saika. I promise you, it's not that bad but prepare. Your. Self."

Saika gulped and went inside. What she needed to prepare for wasn't really what she expected.

"I'm home!" Kinako called out.

A bunch of kids started running up to her and a commotion of loving siblings made Saika giggle a bit.

"Onee-chan! Who is that?" one of them asked.

"Kisaki! It's her date remember!!!" the other said which looked like the other boy's twin.

Saika blushed a bit.

"AHHHH! SHUSH!" Kinako blushed so hard.

After getting everyone under control, Kinako made dinner with Saika.

"Where do you want to sleep?" Kinako asked, "I don't have a spare room sorry!"

"D-do you think I can sleep with you?" Saika asked still blushing.

Kinako looked away from the cooking pot into Saika's eyes. She blushed again (so much blushing) and replied with a simple "Sure!".

Dinner was done and all the kids were done showering. They all finished eating and went to do their own things but Kai went to bed.

Kinako and Saika took turns to shower. Kinako showered first, then Saika. Kinako waited in her room staring at her ceiling fan. She replayed Saika asking to sleep with her. She was so inside her imaginations she didn't realize Saika was waving her hand infront of Kinako's face.

"Kiiiiiiinaaaaakoooooooooo!" Saika whispered.

"What are you doing...?" Kinako asked.

"Seeing if you were alive on earth and not in spce!"

The two giggled until talked until 11 pm. Kinako checked to make sure the kids were all asleep and went back to her room. Saika was already under the covers and Kinako went under. They fell asleep to facing each other's backs both having their dreams take over.

Kinako woke up to hear pictures being taken. She slowly opened her eyes to see all the kids at the door, with a phone, taking pictures of her.

"Why are you taking pictures?" She asked flatly.

They all pointed at Saika who was hugging the smaller person in her sleep. Kinako jaw dropped and was blushing once more.

All the kids snicker until Tsubaki said, "Time to get ready now guys!"

All the kids said "aww" and left.

Kinako giggled and faced back at Saika who was still dead asleep with her arms around Her. It was very warm and Kinako slept for 10 more minutes not wanting to wake Saika nor wanting to end it.

When Saika woke up, she felt a small tight person hugging her stomach and she was hugging the person back. She then realize who it was. (Y'all know I don't need to repeat uwu!) She was staring in shock and awe that she was closer to Kinako than she could ever imagine. Literately. She felt something weird on her chest. She looked down and I wonder what she saw... Kinako's chest upon Saika's. She was hotter now and was so wrapped in the soft touch of Kinako.

"Mmmmm... Saika." Kinako muttered in her sleep.

Saika was so red, she was as red as a rose. It was really awkward when they both got up together. 0.0

They made breakfast and pretended it didn't happen. Saika and Kinako chose to skip school today. Kinako asked Aori to pick up the kids from school.

Kinako and Saika were cuddling on a couch under a blanket. They were watching movies. Saika looked at Kinako who was glued to the movie. Kinako realized and looked back at Saika. They both were now an inch away from each other's faces. They started to slowly lean closer until they both felt a pair of soft lips on their faces. It was deep and passionate until they stopped for air. They stared into the other's eyes and then looked away madly blushing. Their gazes slowly went back to each other, about to kiss again when they heard something from the window. It was Aori and the other kids taking photos. They all went to hide behind the old shed in the backyard but Kinako was already there.

"I'm taking your phones away for a week." Kinako sad plainly, "You too Aori."

The kids, including Aori, gave their phones to Kinako. They all went inside and relaxed. Saika stayed at Kinako's house for a week.

She wasn't excited to go back. She wanted to stay with Kinako. She wanted to live with her. She wanted to be with her. But she couldn't because of her mother.

If Saika could choose to spend her life for 1 thing, it would be Kinako.

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And thats another chapter done! thanks for reading once more and sadly this story will end in a few more chapters :(

previous << Chapter 4 >> next

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@d4nkug0 @just-a-potterhead @ibukis-music-shop @ultimate-plushielover @godly-gummybear

[cloudyyoonji]

Knotted White Lies

Han Jisung x Reader. 

Requested by ANON

Summary: Stuck in an arranged marriage with none other than Han Jisung feels both awkward and like a breath of fresh air. Genre: Angsty Fluff!! New love fluff! ___________________________ Long tables are horribly impractical.  

Yet you’re seated in the corner of one, mother and father beside you.   Across the vast space is another family, one your father associated with for work; the chairman, his wife and his son, who is also seated in the middle of his parents.

A green china tea set rests in the middle of the space, sweets overflowing in an emerald china jar, completely untouched.  

Much like the sweets, the glittering ring seated on your left forth finger remains untouched.  

Even after the many months you’d been wearing it, it had never felt as heavy as it did now.

“They’re to be married by noon.” Chairman Han tells your father, a wide smile peeking over the rim of his teacup.

“Of course,” your father says, a chuckle in his voice as he peers over to his wife. “There is no doubt. We have been very excited about this marriage for a long time."

Well, everyone except you; the bride to be, and your fiancé.

You two barely glance at each other, laughing in the appropriate times, and bidding your thanks to the other family when plausible.

But what is said, is done.  

24 hrs later, you are seated behind an even larger table, decorated in white trimmed lace, bouquets of white roses and tulips, and people bidding their promises of love and eternity to the happy bride and groom. The evening air is crisp, almost as crisp as your mother's handwriting on your forged wedding vows, the note cards tucked under your ringed hand. You can see Jisung’s tucked away too, his fathers writing as dark as his black suit.  

As far as conversations went, you and the groom had barely uttered a word to each other since the engagement had started. You knew his name; Han Jisung, his age; 19, and his family; the chairman and his wife. In return, he knew the same about you, your name, age and family.   You never felt so far from reality, seeing someone you barely know wrap their hands around yours and call you family, call you his wife, his lifelong partner.  

But of course, none of the words was his. Then again, neither were yours.  

The house arrest came later, both your parents shoving you inside, a white dress and all. Jisung was right behind you, just as flustered as you.  

The doors in the house seemed to slam one after the other.   Parents gone, Jisung’s door remaining firmly shut. So you took refuge too, the door to your room shut, but the window open, curtains fluttering over the bench seat in the corner.  

This would be your home, and home is what you’d make it.  

A week turned into a month, your body rarely leaving your comforter or the bench seat. By now you’d memorised the way the horizon rose and fell, what day, noon, evening and night all looked like against it.  

It was in the early depths of the afternoon when the sunshine was bright overhead, clear in the middle of the horizon.  

A knock at the door doesn’t pull your gaze away from the jagged line of the trees, the rising of the hills.  

“Y/N,”  

You turn your head at the sound of a soft voice, both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Your eyes fixate on the figure at the door, a sense of both familiarity and unfamiliarity slicing through you, as cold as the wind outside.  

“You should eat.”  

Han Jisung stood by your doorframe, head leaned to the side as his gaze lays on you, eyes filled with concern.  

“I-“ You cut yourself off, sitting up more formally, hands clasping together in your lap. “Mr Han, I am alright. But thank you for your concern.”  

The boy cringes, nose wrinkling.   "Please, call me Jisung. Mr Han is my father's name. I hate formalities he holds.”  

You smile slightly, nodding along to his request. You hated the formalities too.  

Jisung looks up at you again.   “Come eat downstairs. I’ll make you something.”  

You gingerly shake your head again.   “I'm fine. Really."

He rolls his eyes this time, shaking his head.   “No is not an option. You haven’t eaten all day.”  

“And I don’t recall you caring about this before.”  

You don’t quite expect your words to come out so harsh, yet somehow you don’t quite regret them either.  

Any trace of arrogance is knocked away from the boy, his frame dropping a little in the frame of the doorway, hand going limp by his side.  

“I’ve always cared.”  

“Oh, you have?” You ask, standing up now, arms crossed. “Is that why you locked yourself away? Did you think ‘this isn’t fair’? That ‘your life is ruined’ and ‘planned out for you’?! Don’t you think that I felt the same?”

You’re standing now, raging at the situation at hand.   “I, Han Jisung, don’t want your charity.”  

He takes your words with a blank expression, hands still limp beside him.  

His calmness enrages you more.  

“How can you just stand there!” You shout, gesturing widely to his relaxed state.  

“I deserve that.” Jisung sighs, pushing himself into your room, standing only a meter from you now  

“You’re right Y/N. I know how hard this has been for me. It must have been ten times harder for you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that this has to be our future. But right now, we have to make do with what we have. Let’s start from the beginning, turn a new page. Can we at least try to be friends? For sanity’s sake? Because I don’t think that I can keep doing this douchey silence act any longer. It’s not me, and I don’t think it’s you either.”  

You’re silent, looking at him, professing his words.  

He holds out a hand. “I’m Jisung. Will you come to eat with me? I am worried about you.”  

Finally, you crack, holding out your own hand, a small smile on your lips.   “I’m Y/N, and I’d love to eat with you.”  

So you let him lead you to the kitchen, sitting down to watch him rifle through the cupboards, producing a pan and various ingredients.  

“What are you making exactly?” You question, eyebrows raised as you watch him turn the stove on.  

“Pancakes.” He says simply, the mixing process already unfolding in a bowl. “Chocolate chip to be exact.”  

You nod, watching him as he mixes the batter together.  

“So, Y/N. If we’re going to be friends, I guess we should start with the basics. What is your favourite colour?”  

“Blue actually,” you smile. “It’s been my favourite colour since I was young.”  

“Blue? Really.”  

You nod, smiling a little more as a memory pops into the forefront of your mind.  

“When I was really young, I painted my room blue once.” You only pause to laugh at the memory. “I snuck into my fathers shed and stole the blue paint. It was so late. I painted the walls when he got home and had gone into the study.”  

Jisung’s laughing now, the whisk rested on the bench as he props his head up under his chin.  

“Was he mad?”

You shake your head gladly, smile wide.   “He found me at 1am. But he rolled up his sleeves and helped me paint all the places I couldn’t reach, which honestly was like the top half of the walls.”  

“You’re dad sounds awesome.” He notes, pushing himself up. “I wish mine would’ve let me do mine red.”  

You laugh. “Red?”  

He nods, smiling. “Red is awesome! It’s fast. Just like the cheetah!”  

You can’t but help at laugh at his enthusiastic response, keenly watching as the pancakes are whipped together and placed in a neat stack on a plate in front of you.  

“Wow,” you sigh, eyes closing at the first bite of the delicious pancakes. “These are actually amazing.”  

“They’re world-famous.” Jisung holds his fork out at you. “And the only thing I can make well without burning the house down.”  

“Why do I believe that?” You say, laughing at his half offended expression.  

Catching up on everything you’d missed with Han Jisung, is much like catching up with an old friend.  

Empty snack bowls add to the relaxed atmosphere, lazy laughs hanging in the air. A measly 1:08am adds to the light as the TV plays a random movie in the dead of the morning.  

Yawning, you curl further into yourself, eyes lazy set on the movie ahead, the couch next to you dipping as Jisung does the same.  

It's nice, the relaxed atmosphere between you two.   There is no need to walk on eggshells around him now.  

A soft fabric touches your arms, its warm surface making your eyes track from the TV to see the source of its warmth.  

Jisung gives you a tired smile, the blanket dropping from his hands over you.  

“You looked cold.” His voice is barely above a whisper, smile small yet sincere.  

“Thank you.” You whisper in return, heart loud in your ears.  

You let a few awkward moments pass, daring to side-eye the boy when the room dips into darkness.  

His eyes meet yours in a smile, two crescent moons shining in the dark.  

“What?” You say, relieved the dark can hide the heavy blush on your cheeks.  

“Nothing.” He replies, blinking simply.  

You sit up a little, brushing hair behind your ears.   “Is there something in my hair? On my face?”  

His smile turns a little smug now.   “Only beauty.”  

You’re not sure what to do, choosing to hit is shoulder while yelling some form of opposition, and hide your face in your hands.

“No! Don’t hide that pretty face of yours!”  

You splutter at his words again, willing yourself to compose.  

“Its late Jisung, we should probably head off to bed.”  

Nodding in agreement, the television is quickly switched off, the both of you trudging into the direction of your rooms, two bodies in the darkness, black outlines against the horizon.  

“Hey,” you interrupt the silence upon getting to your door, finally looking up to make eye contact with the boy who also pauses with you. “Thank you for today. It’s nice not to feel so alone in this whole thing.”  

“Likewise Y/N,” he smiles. “Its been really nice."

You two just stand there for a moment, the seconds passing so slowly it could be an eternity.  

“I guess we should stay goodnight then." “Ah, yeah.”  

You fidget with the knob of your door, rather nervous.  

“Its been nice getting to know you. I’m looking forward to getting to know you even more now. Goodnight, beautiful.”  

Your heart flutters at the mere sound of the word, hands covering your face almost as a fight or flight reflex.  

“Goodnight Y/N.”   “Goodnight Jisung.” You manage, aware of his laugh at your state, watching as he disappears into his room through your fingers.

The door gives out as you push it, body falling into the warm embraces of your blankets.

You could almost feel your heartbeat bounding off the walls.

No, there was no way. Han Jisung was making you fall in love with him, and you’re just letting him.  

[expression-in-its-essence]

The Goldfinch movie.

7 min 26 secs in : Why the fuck did they start the movie like that. Why didn't the explosion take place? Theo's mom's apartment? His anxiety? Also.. why do they keep cutting the scenes abruptly? They ain't tweets... No limit.. then??

8 min 2 sec in : Okay they went to the apartment. Audrey's sweater deserved more screen time. The lipstain on the mug in focus *chef's kiss* poetic cinema!

9 min 19 sec in : Do you see what I see? Tom Cable's face has a stark resemblance to Boris's face. Did Theo have a crush on him?

9 min 54 sec in : Mr Barbour's hand is shaking. I like that they put it in there. He was sick. Nice. (I'd imagined Audrey's apartment building entrance like they showed the Barbour's apartment building entrance. Wild.)

11 min 8 sec in : Don't shove it into his face that y'all are fancy okay? He's not used to that life style. He didn't have maids making his bed. ARE YOU GIVING HIM DRUGS, MRS BARBOUR? But you just glared at your husband for offering him the same sort of thing?? Oh God. Poor child. "it's perfectly understandable" my ass. You gave him meds just because your sleep was getting affected.

14 min 39 sec : Woah woah woah Theo wtf you're so smol how'd you do that? Also... Again. The frame of Theo and Tom standing close and Theo and Boris standing close when they kissed, Theo is wearing the same damn sweater.

16 min 58 sec in : Ayyyy Jeffery Wright!

20 min 33 sec in : "He drank a lot", Theo about his dad. Honey just wait up, you will too. (The grilled sandwich and the cute lil smile 😍 also this is the first time since the movie started that Oakes' voice isn't deep.)

23 min 54 sec in : Wizard of Oz poster, I see you!

24 min 19 sec in : I love how Oakes is expressing being caught off guard. Theo knows he did something bad and every time he's dealing with something he didn't expect to deal with, he's like OMG THEY KNOW ABOUT THE PAINTING AND IM FUCKED even if no one knows.

25 min 1 sec in : The glasses made a difference. He went from mature to cute. Angry bird to angry birb.

25 min 44 sec in : Another sweater? Or was this THE sweater of Audrey? (Off topic but Oakes is hella cute. I could murder anyone who hurts him.)

29 min 9 sec in : Pippa doesn't remember or doesn't wanna remember? There was something in her eyes that was hard to read. Also, why doesn't anyone say 'I'm sorry about your mom' to Theo? Do Americans not care? It's weird to see no response when he tells people that Audrey is dead.

31 min 17 sec in : "The Goldfinch, destroyed"? Then why is Theo upset. Good riddance. Oh yeah. I know why. It's Donna Tartt we're talking about.

32 min 39 sec in : Hobie just casually predicting the future. "It's only fake if you pass it on as an original". Theo's like, "noted, gonna do exactly that".

34 min 16 sec in : Why does Theo write like a five year old child? That's toddler handwriting! And omg all the Andy-prom-dress memes are making sense now. (Also did I mention that Mrs Barbour seems more selfish in the film than she does in the book. Like hey I'm putting up with this kid because he helps my kid. He's serving a purpose for me. What the hell.) (How old is Andy anyway? He looks younger than Theo. I think he's different. Didn't grow up like other kids. That was mentioned in the book right?)

35 min 20 sec in : Ayyy Hobie's earring!

35 min 49 sec in : He shopped for himself? Nice! Didn't know kids could shop without adult supervision in the West. (Because they can't in the East.)

35 min 50 sec in : Ayyyy Sarah Paulson! Damn she's hot. How can you dislike her? *heart eyes*

37 min 30 sec in : I can't bring myself to hate Luke Wilson since Skeleton Twins but SHUT THE FUCK UP LARRY! AUDREY DESERVED BETTER. Look at how Larry and Xandra are looking at the place like they're vultures.

39 min 34 sec : They got the airport scene right. STOP GIVING HIM DRUGS WTH IS WRONG WITH THE ADULTS IN THIS MOVIE!

41 min 12 sec in : Ayyy Popper!!!!!

43 min 27 sec in : It just dawned on Theo that he's alone. Oh god. My poor baby.

45 min 12 sec in : Let me take this moment to say that Ashleigh Cummings is pretty. And I finally get why y'all were pissed at the non linear storyline and the weird voiceovers. Guess I'd been prepared for that so it didn't really suck that much.

49 min 30 sec in : I'd imagined Boreo reunion like the Platt Theo reunion. In the day. Dang it. Also... Adult Platt Barbour was not supposed to be good looking? In the book?

55 min 34 sec in : Without context, none of it could make sense. Apologies to whoever didn't read the book beforehand. Crowley fucked this up.

58 min in : Ayyyy Finn Wolfhard! BORIS IS HERE AND IM SO EXCITED IDK WHY

1 hour in : It's such a Boris thing to leave the bag unzipped.

1 hour 3 min 20 sec in : Slumdog Millionaire's Jai Ho (2008) is playing in the background. The only song that I've recognized so far. Wow. Lets me know about the time setting. Nice.

1 hr 3 min in : Someone gif " That cost twenty dollars!" *Stare* "That would have cost twenty dollars!"

1 hr 8 min in : So Boris's room is exactly like I had imagined but Theo's room isn't. Boris just mentioned Kotku though.

1 hr 9 min 14 sec in : Isn't it hella hot in Vegas? Why are they wearing sweaters? Or does drug intake make you more vulnerable to the environment?

1 hr 10 min 15 sec in : Xandra Theo argument : gold. "Cocktail sausages that you like." I wanna laugh in Crowley's face. What was he thinking?? Omg I'm dying.

1 hr 11 min 17 sec in : The slap sound didn't work??

1 hr 13 min 53 sec in : I like serious Boris better.

1 hr 14 min in : The slum house Audrey dream thing was not in the book. That's an entirely new addition.

1 hr 18 min 26 sec in : The Welty Theo scene is awesome. The sound effects work. I feel suffocated. The ambulance noise fiasco is also nicely pulled off. (also Theo's Yellow bag was dirty af then how did it get all clean when he didn't even do anything to it?)

1 hr 20 min 57 sec in : Shhhh Potter.

1 hr 22 min in : Holy shit he got slapped twice!! Ouch! And Larry's audacity to tell Theo to stop with the crying?? Good thing he died. Asshole.

1 hr 25 min in : "You don't tell me a lot of things but that's okay". I see what you did there, Boris. Which was of course, I love you.

1 hr 26 min in : "Act normal" - Theo knows his way around drugs pretty well, doesn't he?

1 hr 30 min in : "No family No friends" line punched me in the face. (Also awww popchik's excuse was the last resort for Boris to make Theo stay.)

1 hr 31 min 17 sec in : That pause after "What do you have to tell me?". You can clearly see Boris struggling to hold something back. Which was of course, I love you.

1 hr 31 min 34 sec in : What the fuck is that music? Oh heyyyyyy they kissed!-- he fucking runs away?? Also what kind of a kangaroo runs like that? (Yes, the taxi driver watched. I don't have to wonder anymore.) (They didn't address why he took the bus instead of flying?)

1 hr 33 min in : I didn't imagine Welty's room like that at all. Also why doesn't Hobie seem happy to see Theo again?

1 hr 35 min in : Longer stretches of one storyline are kinda bearable. From drugs in storage unit to waking up beside Kitsey. We got Vegas and Young Theo. Nice. (Also, who the heck puts jewelry in shoes? Is Theo that dumb? And now I can't think of anything else than Boris piercing his ear for the emerald earring. Tumblr has fucked it up bad.)

1 hr 43 min in : They nailed the Kitsey Theo confrontation.

1 hr 44 min in : Ayyy Ozma of Oz!

1 hr 48 min in : I noticed it before but I wasn't sure... Now I am. Pippa has Welty's ring. On her finger. At all times. (also, is NYC always that noisy? Must suck to walk on the roads.)

1 hr 52 min 23 sec in : They nailed the Theo Pippa date. What's that song playing in the background? I want the name. It's almost like two hours and I still haven't seen Aneurin Barnard once. Why! (Jerome's mentioned in the movie btw.)

1 hr 52 min 51 sec in : Complained too soon. Boris is sat in the dark doing god knows what. My man Aneurin is here!

1 hr 53 min 37 sec in : BOREO REUNIONNNNNN - no don't look at me like that I only watched it thrice.

1 hr 56 min in : Boris saying "it's someone else" with a knowing look and Theo looking at him. The frickin yearning.

1 hr 57 min in : Boris is like you're unhappy, I'm here, we're both rich, let's f*ck. "We could"... What are you suggesting dude he's repressed!

1 hr 58 min in : "you unwrapped it and showed it to me." So many meanings. The heart, the love the soul... Wow. Good for you, screen play writers! ( It's kinda hilarious how Boris got mad at Theo for never quote unquote fucking opening it.)

2 hr 1 min in : I'm calling it. They're going to fuck up the Theo Hobie confrontation. They put it on the wrong time. And they also fucked up the text from the book.

2 hr 5 min 48 sec in : Even Platt is saving his sister's face. Also where did Todd go? Did he never grow up? I wish Mrs Barbour didn't use Theo like she did.

2 hr 7 min in : The frame where Boris is between Kitsey and Theo. Chef's kiss.

2 hr 10 min 54 sec in : *intense music playing* Boris put his leg up on the table and I burst into laughter THOSE ARE THE FAMOUS FUCK ME PUMPS.

2 hr 11 min in : AAAAA THE FOREHEAD TOUCH AAAAAAA (Theo just knows without looking that Boris is close enough to touch? Theo are you sure you don't feel feelings for him?)

2 hr 12 min in : Theo is so worried that I'm not sure if it's for Boris or for losing the painting again. Omg he just murdered a man. Oh god.

2 hr 14 min in : Theo is spiralling. In the movie they imply that Hobie played a part in him attempting suicide. So wrong. Poor Hobie. In the book that wasn't the case.

2 hr 15 min in : The transition of the Goldfinch into Audrey, wow. Also, is it the first time we're seeing her? The movie started so long ago that I've forgotten if I saw Theo and Audrey in the museum. Boris following right after Audrey? That's a subliminal message. Boris is here to rescue y'all.

2 hr 16 min in : No shit Boris is freaking out right now.

2 hr 17 min in : The diner scene. They're both crying. "Happy Christmas, Potter" - which was of course, I love you.

2 hr 18 min in : No don't you dare compare Audrey and Mrs Barbour. Audrey would never drug her child or use him for her benefit.

2 hr 20 min in : Poor kid bumps into his mom lol. I found it funny.

On the whole

The movie was nice if you'd read the book beforehand. The first hour was steak, The second hour was Korean BBQ and the rest of the twenty minutes were minced beef. If you get what I mean. Weird analogy. It could have been much better. But it was really very nice in some places. Most places I'd say.

I didn't like how the pop songs ruined the mood of certain moments. I didn't like how you couldn't hear the conversation over the music playing. For example in the engagement party when Platt and Theo talked. Or in the diner scene.

Both Borises killed the accent thing. They tried their best. Cut them some slack.

Oakes deserves an Oscar for holding up this movie on his smol shoulders. I was shook at how a kid could act that well.

Popchik deserved more screen time. I'm still pissed they didn't add the Popchik Boris reunion. But then they couldn't make it chronological, what were we supposed to expect anyway.

Ansel Elgort y'all. Theo sure improved his handwriting lol. Ansel's writing is nice. He was actually good in this movie. Better than he was in The Fault In Our Stars. The internet is just mean. The critics too. I will never understand the hate.

All in all, it could have been a better adaptation but it didn't suck as bad as everyone made it out to be. John Clownery should be punished nonetheless. Special shout-out to Roger Deakins for making it work.

[mmazzeroo]

Happy belated nameday, Maria! I hope you had a great (and safe) day! ♥

Sharon, I’m so sorry! It has taken me almost two months to thank you for this lovely birthday greeting. You are so sweet and amazing for remembering and I’m not sure I even wished you on your nameday 😞Thus, very belated wishes of a happy nameday to you as well ❤️ 

With that said, please sit down and enjoy a nice cup of tea and let me explain why it’s taken me this long to get back to you - and a few others.   

It was mid-March when my country went into covid19 lockdown. Initially the only downside for my family and I were the cancelling of birthdays hehe; have a sister and brother who are also proud March children. As a part-time student taking classes online there wasn’t much change for me in that area. However, I also work part-time in a kitchen at a 24-hour institution for young adults with autism which means I come into contact with a lot of people regularly. Living with my parents who are both retired and old enough to be classified as being 'at-risk', my chef decided I was one of the first ones who needed to stay home. Why I live with my old parents is another story for another time 🙂 With the stay-at-home order I remember thinking 'cool, then maybe I can finally sit myself down and get some writing done.' Yeah, right... 

That’s when other news started to tick in.   

- In the UK, a friend in the NHS had been working +18 hrs shifts on the psychiatric ward until he too was sent home because someone needed to look after his mentally unstable mother. - Another friend, in France, didn’t dare attend her beloved grandma’s funeral because she wasn’t sure if her fever was just a regular cold. - An old friend (as in time we’ve known each other), lost his father after a long hard battle with cancer. To make it worse he lives and works in Cyprus but his parents live in Athens, Greece, and because of the travel restrictions he couldn’t fly back to accompany his mother to the funeral. (Ok, he could but then he’d have to be in quarantine at a hotel for 14 days before being allowed to visit his mom). He talks with her twice daily but still hasn’t been able to visit her.   

I’m from a large, close-knit family and they mean the world to me. Friends are considered extended family as in ’there’s the fridge, there’s the loo, make yourself at home.’ So imagining a scenario where I couldn’t attend the funeral of a loved one hit me like a knife. Around the time the stay-at-home order was put in place my dad had caught a cold. A cold that turned into pneumonia. A pneumonia that turned bad. A few days before my birthday he was admitted to the hospital because he began having trouble breathing. Up until that point he’d been at home, in bed and on antibiotics.The paramedics arrived quickly, wished him away and left me alone with my distraught mom. I’ll never forget the look in the driver's eyes when he reluctantly told my mom she couldn’t come along. He understood the pain his words inflicted but there was nothing anyone could do. 

My dad was somewhere in a hospital, all alone, fighting for his life and there was nothing I could do or say to change that. We weren’t allowed to go visit. My mom would call daily to get updates and for a couple of weeks they weren’t exactly uplifting. The best news was that it wasn’t covid19. But, he was (briefly) put on a ventilator to help him breathe. 

My mom distracted herself with cleaning and sorting and cooking etc. I, on the other hand, just shut down. I stopped reading, watching or listening to any kind of news, I might check a few of the notifications I got on twitter and insta, but I’d logged out of tumblr. I numbed my mind with movies and series - netflix became my new safe haven. I would have movies or a series running till I passed out from exhaustion.   

Then one night there was a ping on my phone telling me there was a mail. It was from tumblr telling me that @tomakeitbeautifultolive had asked a question. It was so unexpected. Such a sweet, simple and kind gesture in the middle of my chaos was more than I knew how to handle so I cried. Silent tears and sniffles evolved into full blown sobbing, squeezing the pillow so tight I strangled the poor thing to death. Despite it sounding terrible how you wishing me a happy nameday caused me to cry myself to sleep, I want to thank you because I needed to get it out and you just happened to be the catalyst ❤️ 

Sorry for taking so long but I was so overwhelmed that even a simple thank you was too much for me 😞 The only one I’ve had bit of contact with is my awesome latino sis @helloimnotawesome but couldn’t even tell her because I didn’t know where to begin and honestly just wanted to pretend that the world only consisted of netflix and my bed. Sorry Val 😞

Started back at work again last Monday. Nice to be back but I also worry because the covid19 virus is still very much here, and what if I unknowingly bring it home? We live in a small town in a tourist area and since our government is talking of re-opening the borders it looks like we’ll get tourists this summer. Yes, they’re definitely needed and no, I don’t suspect or think badly of my European neighbours but..I’m still the one in the house who does the shopping and with more outsiders in the area the odds of the virus showing up here only increases. If from now on one of my parents get sick it will most likely be something I’ve brought home, and it scares me.   

This turned out to be much longer than I thought it’d be. Sorry about that. If you stuck with me so far I’m very, very grateful.   

I’ll end this on a happy note though: My dad is back home, safe and sound, and on the 28th of May he can celebrate his 75th birthday!

Once again, thank you Sharon! It meant more to me than I can ever express. 

[sybcritics-blog]

( lee jooheon, cismale, he/him, 24. ) — CHOI JUNGWOO, better known to the authorities as VULCAN, has been working for the kumiho for around SIX YEARS as a JANITOR. rumor has it, they can be DARING & KALEIDOSCOPIC but also IRASCIBLE & SYBARITIC which is why blood-stained hands, all black wardrobes, crooked smirks, and weaponry makes me think of them.

hey  demons,  it  me,  ya  girl,  gem  ...  back  at  it  again,  only  this  time  my  character  is  worst  than  the  first  one.  which  is  saying  something  because  oof  minwoo  was  an  absolute  disaster  !  so  if  that  gives  you  any  idea  as  to  how  this  shithead  is  gonna  be,  that  should  be  a  clue  !  

again,  his  whole  backstory  isn't  completely  figured  out  but  i  have  what  i've  already  figured  out  below  the  cut,  as  well  as  his  basic  information,  personality  &  some  wanted  plots  i  have  for  him  ! 

if  you  want  to  plot  with  this  lil  pyro,  smash  that  like  button  &  i'll  come  to  you  !  or  of  course,  if  you  like  d*scord  better  than  tumblr  feel  free  to  add  me  on  there  (  @𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕂𝕃𝔼𝕍𝕠𝕊𝕊!#9330 )  &  we  can  plot  from  there  !

                                         BASIC INFORMATION.

full  name:  choi  jungwoo. nickname(s):  jun,  woo. age:  twenty-four. date  of  birth:  october  31st. birthplace:  daegu,  south  korea. current  location:  seoul,  south  korea. ethnicity:  korean. nationality:  korean. gender:  cismale. pronouns:  he  /  him  /  his. orientation:  pansexual. crew  position:  janitor. occupation:  instagram  model  /  youtuber.  (  eboy  basically  ig  ) language(s)  spoken: korean,  english,   chinese,  japanese,  spanish,  greek,  thai  &  french.

                                    PHYSICAL  APPEARANCE.

face  claim:  lee  jooheon  (  joohoney  )  of  monsta  x. hair  color:  changes  frequently,  currently  dark  brown. eye  color:  brown. height:  6  '  1  ". weight:  175. build:  athletic. tattoos:  far  too  many  to  count. piercings:  multiple  in  his  ears,  a  tongue  piercing,  nipple  piercings,  a  scar  on  his  right  brow  from  an  old  brow  piercing.

                                                       HEALTH.

physical  ailments:  alcohol  abuse,  drug  abuse  & lactose  intolerance. neurological  conditions:  back  pain  &  occasional  migraines. allergies:  pollen,  mold,  dairy,  shellfish. sleeping  habits: 3-4  hours  a  night,  restless. eating  habits:  mostly  junk  food,  fast  food  &  take-out  but  he  does  enjoy  going  to  fancy  places  every  once  in  a  while  as  well  as  cooking  meals  at  home. exercise  habits:  jogs  every  morning,  is  in  a  boxing  group  that  meets  every  week. body  temperature: hot  natured. addictions:  alcohol,  tobacco,  drugs  &  sex. drug  use: frequent. alcohol  use: frequent.

                                          PERSONALITY. ( PT 1. )

label:  the  cataclysmic. positive  traits:  daring  &  kaleidoscopic. negative  traits:  irascible  &  sybaritic. fears:  large  bodies  of  water. hobbies:  boxing,  card  games,  video  games,  reading,  cooking,  comic  books,  jogging. habits: tbd. quirks:  tbd.

                                                 FAVORITES.

season:  fall. color(s):  black,  red,  green. music:  isn’t  super  picky,  doesn't  care  for  country. movies:  mostly  action,  suspense,  horror  &  comedy. sport(s):  watches  baseball  &  hockey. beverage(s):  anything  but  sparkling  water. food:  fast  food. animal:  dogs.

                                                     FAMILY.

father: tba. mother: tba. sibling(s):  younger sibling, nineteen. children:  n/a. pet(s):  german  sheppard  puppy. family’s  financial  status:  upper  class.

                                                     EXTRAS.

zodiac sign:  scorpio. mbti:  entp-a.  (  the  debater  ) enneagram:  type  eight. (  the  challenger  ) temperament:  choleric. hogwarts  house:  slytherin. moral  alignment:  chaotic neutral. primary  vice:  lust. primary  virtue:  pride. element: fire.

                                                BIOGRAPHY.

born  in  daegu  sk  to  a  lawyer  and  a  police  officer,  jun's  life  was  always  pretty strict.

they  always  made  sure  he  was  living  like  they  wanted  him  to,  cracking  down  and  making  sure  he  was  behaving  &  that  his  grades  were  at  the  top  of  his  class.

little  did  they  know  that  their  son  found  ways  around  having  to  obey  everything  they  said,  sneaking  out  of  his  bedroom  window  to  roam  the  streets  of  daegu  in  the  middle  of  the  night  &  things  like  that.

that's  also  where  he  first  found  his  interest  in  fire,  seeing  people  mess  with  small  bonfires  /  fireworks  all  the  time  caused  him  to  grow  curious.

so  one  night  on  one  of  his  adventures,  he  approached  a  group  of  kids  that  were  probably  only  a  few  years  older  than  him  and  they  allowed  him  into  their  group  &  allowed  him  to  start  messing  with  the  fireworks  himself.

it  was  from  that  moment  on  that  he  started  to  rebel  a  little  bit  more  with  each  day  that  passed,  eventually  sneaking  out  &  staying  gone  the  entire  night  only  to  sneak  back  up  through  his  window,  get  2  hrs  of  sleep  and  then  head  to  school.

parents  never  figured  out  about  it  though,  he  was  good  at  lying  to  them  &  anyone  with  any  sort  of  'authority'  so  he  was  able  to  continue  pleasing  them  &  pretending  to  be  this  pefect  son  all  while  living  the  life  he  actually  wanted  to  live.

the  only  thing  that  came  as  a  shock  to  his  parents  was  him  moving  out  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  getting  his  own  apartment  and  whatnot  so  he'd  stop  having  to  hide  how  he  wanted  to  live  or  have  to  sneak  out  of  his  own  home.

however,  to  them,  they  just  thought  he  wanted  to  become  more  of  an  adult  &  so  they  never  really  questioned  it  or  checked  up  on  him  without  warning.

he  had  just  turned  eighteen  when  he  was  approached  by  the  mastermind  after  getting  into  a  fight  at  a bustling  club,  leaving  the  other  person  laid  out  on  the  ground  while  jun  barely  had  any  injuries  whatsoever.  

the  mastermind  offered  a  job,  keep  people  quiet  or  clean  up  after  the  ones  who  can't  and  you'll  get  paid  shit  tons  of  money...  who  was  jun  to  turn  that  offer  down?

a  few  months  after  that  is  when  his  instagram  persona  started  forming,  posting  his  outfits  on  the  app  started  to  cause  people  to  follow  him  &  ask  for  more...  n  before  he  knew  it,  he  was  getting  agents  messaging  him  offering  to  be  HIS  agent  &  allow  him  to  make  even  more  money  just  by  posting  the  simplest  of  things  on  a  daily  basis.

again,  who  was  he  to  really  turn  down  the  offer?  especially  considering  the  fact  he'd  already  grown  a  taste  for  all  things  expensive.

&  thus,  jun's  double  life  began  once  more,  though  this  time,  both  sides  of  his  life  were  things  he  truly  enjoyed.

                                       PERSONALITY. ( PT 2. )

the  Worst...

short-tempered  as  heck,  will  snap  on  people  for  breathing  in  his  direction  wrong  if  he's  in  one  of  those  moods...

loves  violence... it's  a  problem.  will be  that  asshole  who  starts  bar  fights  just  so  he  can  fight  someone  ksfjghsdf

.... if  you  haven't  figured  it  out,  the  boy  loves  to  play  with  fire.  constantly  burns  stuff,  always  tries  to  take  things  of  other  peoples  to  burn  them.  also  likes  to  ... possibly  set  empty  buildings  on  fire  only  to  watch  them  burn  down.  yike.

can  be  extremely  goofy  &  joking  one  moment  and  then  the  biggest  grumpy  asshole  the  next.  all  really  depends  on  his  mood  at  the  time.

when  he's  in  a  good  mood  though,  he  loves  to  mess  with  people  &  joke  around  or  just  go  explore  the  area.  day  trips  are  his  favorite  thing  in  the  world  even  though  he  won't  admit  to  it.

however,  when  he  isn't.... don't  mess  with  him  bc  he  will probably  try  and  snap  ur  head  off  or  yell  at  you  for  the  dumbest  shit.  probably  figures  out  he's  being  a  dick  a  little  too  late  but  will  still  own  up  to  it  and  apologize  eventually.

a  bit  of  a  wild  card,  honestly.  you  never  know  what  mood  he's  going  to  be  in  or  what's  going  on  in  his  head  at  any  given  moment.

a  heaux,  shock  shock...  but  like  actually  really  bad  abt  it,  constantly  has  some  new  hook  up  or  something  like  that.

this  is  a  work  in  progress  as  well  so  that's  all i've  got  atm

                                                   PLOT IDEAS.

someone  from  his  past  who  knows  that  his  father  is  a  police  officer  &  constantly  gets  on  his  ass  for  all  the  stupid  shit  he  does  bc  they  don't  want  him  getting  caught  let  alone  his  own  father  finding  out.

his  go  to  person  for  all  things  stupid  as  fuck.  getting  high  on  the  roof?  check.  getting  drunk  &  dancing  on  the  bar?  check.  walking  around  seoul  at  4  in  the  morning?  check.

the  fire  &  ice  combination  we  all  want  for  our  muses,  they  fight,  bicker,  try  to  throw  hands  w  each  other  even  but  at  the  end  of  the  day,  they  actually  care  about  one  another.

someone  who's  able  to  see  the  softer  side  of  jun,  either  by  just  being  around  for  his  'down'  days,  or  finding  out  that  a  sleepy  /  just  woke  up  jun  has  a  tendency  to  be  soft  and  a  tiny  bit  needy.

the  jokester  friend  who's  always  pranking  jun  &  jun  tries  to  one  up  them  &  get  his  revenge.

the  LOATHING  plot...  idk  what  it  would  be  for  but  they  just  literally  can't  stand  each  other  &  they  make  sure  it's  known  to  the  world.

someone  who  puts  up  with  his  instagram  persona  and  goes  on  shopping  trips  &  appears  in  the  dumb  videos  he  uploads  to  both  instagram  &  youtube.

speaking of,,,,,  the  'dating'  rumor.  basically  they're  really  close  friends  &  are  seen  by  the  media  together  a  lot  so  people  just  assume  they're  a  thing  &  start  getting  hashtags  about  them  trending  as  well  as  all  the  other  fun  stuff  that  goes  along  with  that.

will  add  more  as  they  come  to  mind  !

[the-canary]

Too Damn Proud - S.R (2/5)

Summary: The man was born with two left feet, but damn could he steal a heart. (Modern/Dancing AU! Reader/Steve Rogers)

Prompt:  “Is now a good time to confess my love or should I come back in a week?”

Masterlist

A/N: This is for @whiskeybucky‘s writing challenge. i am sorry in advance if anybody gets Quinceañera flashbacks towards the end of this chapter because that was pretty much me towards the end. 

Feedback is always appreciated.

Part 1 

Mondays and Thursdays from 6 to 7pm with at least 24 hrs advance notice before rescheduling, is what Steve agrees with the dance instructor over the phone.

He doesn’t tell Sam, but Bucky had overheard the ending of the phone call and as his shift ends and Bucky’s begins, the older man can’t help but smirk.

“Good luck, Stevie,” the dark-haired man grins probably remembering his own times trying to teach the blond how to dance and silently praying for his new teacher, while patting Steve on the back as he heads to Queens with a nervous excitement running through his veins. It takes him a good 30 minutes to find the street where the studio is located, on top of a warehouse with some swing music playing loudly from one of the windows.

“Here it goes, Rogers,” Steve breathes, taking two steps at time. By the time he is at the front door, welcome by a sign and a dark-haired woman, the music has stopped though there is still an abundance of laughter and talking. He takes a deep breathe before stepping forward to the tight-lipped woman.

“H-Hi,” he manages to stutter out as dark eyes flicker with amusement for a moment,”Steve Rogers, coming in for dance lessons.”

“Your first session, I’m guessing?” she asks before introducing herself as Maria, the receptionist and everything else of Dancing All Night Studio.

“That obvious, huh?” Steve lets out a nervous laugh.

“Yes, but you came to the right place,” Maria nods, as some young girls come out from the hallways. Some wave goodbye to Maria, others are sending curious gazes towards Steve. However, before any of them can ask him anything, his name is being called by a woman wearing a black form fitting top, leggings, and a brightly colored sash tied around her hips with her hair pulled back. You smile before asking.

“Steve Rogers, I presume,” you ask as he nods. You motion for him to follow you down the hall after telling Maria she can start locking up, “I hope you brought more comfortable clothes to dance in.”

“Sweats, sneakers, and an old tee. Just as you asked,” Steve motions to the small duffle bag he is carrying and you smile, still completely professional. You stop and motion to a room.

“You can get dressed here,” you point before motioning to the room at the end of the hallway, “I will be waiting there for us to start. Please don’t take long, if not you hiding in the locker room will count as your first class.”

“Have people really done that?” he questions, but you shake your head as a grin breaks out of your professional facade that stops him for a moment.

“Not yet, but I’ve heard stories from Sam,” you explain, as Steve groans before entering the room though all he can hear is your sudden laughter through the paper thin walls.

 6:10 is when you finally start with Steve standing in front of you in comfortable clothing though with an uneasy look on his face. The room is filled with with the dim light of the sun since the summer allows for it a bit longer than usual. The mirror wall to your front and the red brick interior to your back. Your hands on your hips, as you can’t for the life of you help but feel excited about teaching the urban legend that is Steve Rogers due to his inability to dance, according to Sam. Though the teacher side of you tries to be kind, non-judgemental, and patience.

“So, first thing first,” your voice has Steve’s head popping to his left to look at you, waiting, “Why do you want to dance?”

“W-What?” Steve responds. He had been waiting for you to just start telling him how to move, like Bucky had back in high school, not questioning his motives. It caught him off-guard, but it was refreshing in a sense. It wasn’t like you were digging into his innermost thoughts, which always worried him when meeting new people.

“Why dancing?” you repeat again, taking him out of his inner monologue. Blue eyes look towards the mirror in front of him, for a moment staring at a skinny 5’4 kid who could barely be out in this sort of weather without getting some sort of heatstroke. Steve Rogers was lucky to be alive, to have made it this far and maybe this was the first step in enjoying it --survival-- in a different way.

“Never coulda before,” Steve remarks, looking straight at you, “Wanted to try now. Maybe, even dance with a pretty gal.”

“Well, I’ll promise you’ll get to do all that and more!” you exclaim, clapping your hands together as an old Elvis Presley song begins to echo in the room. Steve looks at you in confusion since you two had talked about learning older dances -- swing, the waltz, and such-- before anything else.

“I wanna see how flexible you are first,” you laugh at the horror that slowly disappears on his face as it turns into understanding, “The King’s music is the best to show off those muscles!”    

You move your arms to and for before thrusting your hips forward. You wait for Steve to follow your motions for the rest of the song. One song turns into another as you move around Steve with a huge grin on your face, shaking your hips and twisting around every so often, though your eyes never leave his body as you try to get a sense of how he works -- it was part of your individualized dance curriculum. On the other hand, Steve is a stiff as a board while simply moving back and forth or shuffling his feet. It wasn't until a song from a familiar Elvis movie starts up that he begins to loosen up -- you are quick to take note of it too.

By the end of the session, you are sweating bullets as you hand Steve a cold water bottle, as he just seems to be breathing heavily. You shake your head and let yourself fall gracelessly on a chair nearby.

“So, what do ya think?” you ask, as he gulps the water done in one go and you try not look at his Adam’s apple. He sighs and looks down with a slight smile.

“I think I can do this,” you know he is trying to psych himself up, because nobody is really up for dancing unless they are born for it or have a very extroverted personality -- the one which you have the former of.

“Good, then I’ll see you next Monday,” you smile, as you throw a small towel at him before he bids your goodnight with a sweet and polite smile. There’s a brief fluttering in your stomach and you push it back, fully knowing that this isn’t the time for that.

 The next two sessions go back to your usual structure of explaining what dance you are going to be teaching and doing the steps, as the couple watches on, except since Steve is just one person. This has you with your hand cusped with his and the other on his shoulder. You had stopped the song again because he had stepped on your toe again , but he was making progress.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just had something on my mind,” he tells you, as you turn to look at him with a frown. You motion him to sit down, knowing from experience that you weren’t going to get anywhere if his mind was occupied.

“Well, what’s on your mind?” you ask, as he finally sits down, “A pretty gal?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out like some lovestruck teen, which causes you to quirked an eyebrow “Sharon, and I was thinking about asking her out dancing, but…”

“But?” you echo back his worried sentiments.

“Nat told me she’s really into salsa music,” Steve explains as he scratches the back of his next,”And I’m more--”

“Old fashioned,” you finished, as he gives you a smile in gratitude for finishing his sentence, before you continue, “So, what’s the problem? We could just finish the waltz and change some of the dances we had planned. No big deal.”

“Really?”

“ Really really . You learn how to dance, ask her out, and Steve Rogers gets the gal in the end,” you shrug, unsure of why you feel a hollow ache in your chest for a brief moment, “Maybe, I’ll even choreograph the wedding.”

“Thank you so much,” he grins as you nod, brushing past the stickiness that comes with unknown emotions and getting that stupid, wonderful man to dance without stepping on your goddamn toes.   

Part 3 

[dinacharya]

remember? (an ode to dating in your 20s)

remember when you were 22 and you had that 14-hr marathon date with that 31 yr old? you went from coffee to the norton simon museum to dinner (your one and only time at Pine & Crane), then you went to walk the lake in the evening and decided while sitting in the dark on a park bench to go catch the last showing of Blade Runner 2049 so the night wouldn't end. he kissed you goodnight at your car. you weren’t impressed with the movie but you were impressed by his knowledge of plants in norton simon’s garden. you were impressed by his vintage volvo and bachelor pad apartment with beautiful shelves of organized records. he said he taught modular synth workshops in amsterdam and berlin and that sounded cool though you didn’t know what that meant. that was the first DJ you dated.

remember the first time you went on a date with someone who didn’t have a car and driving back to pasadena with him in the passenger seat you thought to yourself, what the fuck am i doing i don’t want him coming home with me.... do i have to drive him home?!?!

remember the time you showed up at the indian restaurant in Downtown and he was already sitting at the table, so it wasn’t until an hour and a half of conversation later when he stood up from the table that you realized you were taller than him?

remember that date you offered to split the bill just to be polite but really didn’t want to because this guy had spent too long talking about his research work on fruit flies? a couple days later he texted you a picture of himself in middle school with an eyebrow piercing, so you ghosted him. and he called you out for ghosting but you were too chicken to reply, and since then you’ve not done it again.

remember why driving by that block of his studios on the corner of 15th made you tear up after a whole year had passed? the flashbacks of the sunsets from those windows and the echo of your voices against the wood floors, yoga on the stage and the bathtub with gold feet surrounded by brick walls.

remember when you were 24 and you spent a couple weeks texting and exchanging silly photos and he even drunk called you on new years eve and made you giggle? he drove an hour and a half to finally meet you, but then you learned he didn’t smoke weed (asthma) and he learned that you don’t drink (allergic), and it was over like that.

remember the time you thought things were going well with the one you had no doubts about, and then on a saturday in September that you two had plans to go to the beach he comes over and cries on your bed and dumps you? and you ask, did you bring my things? he did, most of it in a brown paper bag, and your toothbrush he had just said he liked to see at his place was sitting bristle faced down on your sandals. 

remember the time you said, no more white guys, and then you went on to date more white guys?

remember that day you were anxious about meeting your new boyfriend’s friends so you put a tab of acid on your tongue before driving to Matsuhisa? the words on the menu were wiggling. you ate the most expensive sushi dinner you’ve ever eaten and met that group for the first time having no clue who they were as the fans came rushing toward your circle holding fan art.

remember the time you were 25 on your couch watching a Netflix movie about Russian conspiracies and there was zero romance in the air but this guy turned and asked to kiss you? you didn’t want to ghost him, so you said instead that you weren’t ready to date. 

remember the night you returned to that house for the first time in two years and it was awkward and nostalgic? the drive was only 9 minutes instead of 30, the living room felt the same. you talked together like old friends about recent heartbreaks and lessons and past friends and fallouts. and you smiled when he said starting over is the best because not knowing what’s next is fun.

remember the time you were 27 and swore never another DJ, and then immediately started dating another DJ?

remember the time you both agreed to be just friends and then immediately weren’t just friends? he put his jacket on your shoulders at that house party and shared a bite of chocolate pie. the line for the bathroom was too long so you drove up the hills back to his house and tea turned into a night over and a night over turned into hours over the phone and late nights falling asleep on the studio couch while he tracked bass, walks in the hills and acai bowls in bed and gigs on weekday nights at ETA and lodge room. and now you're not more than friends or friends at all, but you own a pair of pink Nikes from that store on Melrose that he liked.

remember the time you swore no more broke depressed self-proclaimed creative geniuses, so the first date you agree to is this west side guy who grows his own garden and just bought a house in the hills? but then at this fancy rooftop overlooking the beach he jokes about his chronic depression and secret desire to quit the label so he can write fiction. a week later he sends you his competition submissions to read, and you know from the feeling in your stomach, that’s enough of that.

remember the song that reminds you of a winding afternoon drive against desert wind? 

remember the time you were 23 and that aries you planned a dinner party with loved you like hell but gave you hell too, and you realized quickly that loving like hell wasn’t enough? that loving his potential and loving his work and loving his cats and his roommate his incense his alien stories the way he held you and his wild pure smile wasn’t enough to stay. that was the first time you felt real heartbreak. (and the last time you dated an aries.)

remember every heartbreak after that one felt a little familiar, but each had its own particular flavor? there was the sour one, but you like sour, how it tickles your tongue. then there was the salty one, as if an entire bowl of ramen broth mixed with months and months of tears, turned cold. one was the kind of bitter that makes your jaw burn with regret. and one barely tasted like anything at all. the peculiar pleasure is that the flavors change as seasons turn. just like they say in those candy commercials, sour became sweet. and salty became an occasional craving the way you yearn for a bag of Vickies on random summer days. bland became comfort. and bitter? bitter became medicine like the herbs you sip to drain fire.

and the ones that you can still taste that were once grand painful stories or forever love and those poignant moments that have become buds on your tongue and the frequencies between joy and suffering that have moved through you slow and fast are merely words in this ode now.

----

Epilogue: now make it memes & tweets

[pastelbatfandoms]

Fanfiction Writer Asks

Most of the writer ask posts I come across are only like ten or so questions long so I thought I’d try to make a longer one because we like talking about our writing! Feel free to reblog!

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction? 12 or so

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one? Marvel,DC,Riverdale,WWE,Harry Potter,Anything that sparks My creativity really. Favorite so far would be Marvel. 

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer. OC’s,they’re just easier and I can give My Character more personality then Y/N. 

4) What is your favourite genre to write for? Romance,Drama and Fantasy.

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi chaptered stories, which would it be and why? Wells of Hearts,My FanFic of The Flash’s Harrison Wells. 

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why? Prbly My Teen Wolf-Peter Hale one,since it went no where and I don’t plan on finishing it. 

7) When is your preferred time to write? Any time I have free lol

8) Where do you take your inspiration from? My Muse att,Movies,Shows,FanVids or other Fics,Music. 

9) In your xxx fic, what’s your favorite scene that you wrote? 

In My Most recent Harry Potter one,A Perfect Distraction,Probably the end when Severus shows up and asks to join them. Everyone else likes The Comment Lucius makes in the ballroom about Draco and Harry though ;P 

10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind? For A perfect Distraction I had The end clear in my head before anything else,for a change and just thought that added a little humor to the Smut and gave a reason to add Snape in. 

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it? Nope.

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why? I’m pretty sure Loki will be,So far HR Wells because his Character is so fun and light.

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why? I don’t really have one.

14) How did you come up with the title for the xxx? - You can tell about multiple stories. A Perfect Distraction is a Comment made by Lucius to Rihannon in the story so that’s how I came up with the title for the one shot. The Title for The main story is Called The Snakes and The Raven. Pretty self explanatory really.

Mischief on Wings is My soon to be Loki x Amara story and I came up with that name as sort of a tongue in cheek way of describing both characters as Loki is The God of Mischief and Amara is a Valkyrie. 

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names? They just kind of come to me or through a name generator lol

16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx? For The Snakes and The Raven,I had just finished The Movies and developed both a Crush on Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape,I decided to write Fanfiction about them and Rihannon came to mind as a Ravenclaw who was in love with Them both in school,Luci and Snape where Good Friends growing up and both fell for her and they decided to be in a Poly relationship together (in My Fic both Malfoy and Snape are Bi). I made Rihannon there age instead of a Student because I felt the Teacher/Student dynamic had already been over done.

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.  "Hit on her again." Severus warned Sirius,wand at his throat. "I.Dare.You. 

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them? Teen Wolf- The Alpha. My PTSD and The fact that most of The Peter videos I had watched on youtube had been deleted...

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to? I’m not finished with them yet lol

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently? No.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire? I’m not sure. I do really like Fangirl Hells writing’s. 

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it? No but I do feel bad that at 13 yrs old writing WWE Fics,I made The Rock abusive :/ 

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence? Music definitely. 

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes? LOVE IT

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story? No,just while thinking about it.

26) Which part of your xxx fic was the hardest to write? A Perfect Distraction-The initial Smut scene took so long to write because I was either not in the mood or had no idea how to approach it. Turns out I just needed to make Lucius Romantic :)

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow? Both.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction? How well received it actually is!

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like? Um yeah My Harry Potter one and Wells of Hearts! 

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at? lol um My Shane Mcmahon one’s as there so Short especially ‘It’s Been Awhile’ 

31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! 

32) Are any of your characters based on real people? In The Flash Fic,Michelle Renee is obviously me as she has My name,but since I don’t actually have powers,i’d have to say My WWE Roxy is the closest in terms of personality and style.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten? Just asking to be tagged in My writing is compliment enough!

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten? idr

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest? I share My SFW one’s with My Family and My NSFW one’s with The Hubby lol

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s? Nah

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written? I don’t really write Comedy.

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person? First 

40) Do people know you write fanfiction? Yep

41) What’s you favourite minor character you’ve written? Archie Andrews. 

42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song xxx for xxx. 

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it? idk

44) What is the last line you wrote? For My HP One it’s just an outline but-They have late night get togethers in The Library and secret rendezvous in The Room of Requirements and Snape’s Potions Class after hours. 

45) What spurs you on during the writing process? Not sure My Muse probably. 

46) I really loved your xxx fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it?

47) Here’s a fic title - insert a made up title. What would this story be about?

48) What’s your favourite trope to write? Good Girl saves Angsty Villian lol

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about? idk it was prbly a Sailor Moon one though.

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? Smut definitely,I have so many Character and Celeb crush’s how could I not? lol

[nylenol]

do all of them like a True Lesbian u pussy

i hate you but im also thriving thanks BITCH!

1. Femme or butch?im a butchy femme bitch but i like both! i think i have a preference for femmes tho

2. Do you have a “type”? If so, describe itidts?? all i know is girl hot

3. Plaid button-ups or leather jackets?plaid button ups god i wish i was hot enough for leather jackets

4. Describe your stylehomeless lesbian

5. Describe your aesthetica mess of other aesthetics! neon, pastel, grunge, the whole shebang

6. Favorite article of clothing?my watermelon pj shorts.

7. Favorite pair of shoes?answered!

8. Current haircut?n/a. im tarzan

9. Any haircut goals for the future?I WANT AN UNDERCUT!!!!!!!!!!!! BUT I HAVE TOO MUCH OF A BABY FACE SO I CAN’T IM DEPRESSION

10. Describe the best date you’ve been onnever been on one haha sandra loney!

11. Describe the worst date you’ve been onnever been on one haha sandra loney!

12. Single? Taken?haha sandra loney!

13. If taken, talk about your girlfriend/wife!haha sandra loney!

14. If single, what are you looking for in a potential girlfriend/wife?answered!

15. Describe your dream weddingsmall…… relaxed,, in some rich bitch’s backyard……. matching dresses bitch!!

16. Do you want kids?not while im in my 20s for sure but maybe one or two later?? i wanna adopt and i feel like the experience is important to have before i die

17. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?I’d probably stay where i am,,,,,, i like cali! i’d like to travel a lot tho

18. Favorite lesbian movie?THE HANDMAIDEN (2016) PLEASE. WATCH IT.

19. Favorite lesbian novel/story?FINGERSMITH SARAH WATERS THE BOOK THAT THE HANDMAIDEN (2016) WAS BASED OFF OF PLEASE. READ IT.

20. Favorite lesbian song?answered!

21. Favorite lesbian musician?answered!

22. What lesbian stereotypes do you fit into, if any?the hating men thing is kinda there! but other than that, nah

23. Ever been assumed to be nothing more than a gal pal?idk what this is asking but ive come out to ppl before and they ask again like..”forreal ?”

24. If a woman wanted to woo you, what would a surefire way to accomplish that?be comfortable with me! and a caring friend, first and foremost

25. Be positive! What do you like most about being a lesbian?GIRL HOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also me girl ??? they girl  ?? ? same ? ? ? safe

26. Are you more of a cat person or a dog person?cat person if i had to choose but god i love dogs…

27. Turn ons?ppl that believe in me like hello…………………………………………………….. also when ppl are Genuine.. and Care…. Wow…

28. Turn offs?answered but also ppl who don’t see a problem out to its resolution like. waht the ufck

29. Do you usually ask other women out or do you wait for them to ask you?im a brick so. wait for others LOL

30. What is your dream career?ART PLEASE….. CONCEPT ARTIST / CHARA DEV

31.Talk about your interests or hobbies!i love DRAWING kekekke also gaming! i really like single player rpgs with immersive stories theyre sexy,, also i enjoy reading/watching gay shit thanks for ur time - i also wanna get into writing prose + poetry but im ugly at that so yuh

32. What is the most attractive quality a woman can have?sincerity like hello

33. Do you love easily or does it take time for you to warm up to someone?i love easily! romantically idk but platonically definitely,,,,,,,, i love People

34. Ever fallen for your best-friend?heeheehoohoo

35. Ever fallen for a straight girl?answered!

36. The L-Word: yes or no? (love it or hate it?)never seen it keke

37. Favorite comfort food?i have a few but im craving banh cuon rn,, the dim sum kind (its like rice cake with shrimp and this sweet soy sauce)

38. Coffee or tea?tea! but only the horrendously sweet, fruity kind u get at boba shops keke

39. Vegetarian? Vegan? None of the above?neither im an omnivore

40. Do you have any pets?nope! there’s a stray cat that visits a lot though

41. Early-riser or night-owl?early riser but not by choice………..

42. What is your sign?answered!

43. Can you drive?no jsghdg

44. Who was your first lesbian crush?lul i didnt realize until recently but it was this girl who was in a couple of classes in middle school w me kek, it was just a superficial thing tho and i didnt even know i was gay for sure LMAO

45. At what age did you know you were a lesbian?i started questioning around 11-12?? went with pan from 14-15 and then i was like Who Am I Kidding…….Girl Hot

46. At what age did you come out (if you have)?I came out as pan when I was 15, but now I’m out @ school as a lesbian! I’m not out to my fam tho i need a roof above my head and food in my mouth unfortunately

47. Are you crushing on anyone at the moment (celebrity or otherwise)?crushing isn’t the word I’d use - miss someone tho

48. Talk about how your day wentfucking WACK classes were a fever dream, i got caught with like 10 different hotel and anime expo tabs open in 2nd period, the teacher read out each tab name before he closed them and jskldghdggggg ; math murdered me, i got 2/9 on a quiz :) interviews for 2 hrs afterschool and we have our new club board sorted out! so big excite, it’s gna be a really good group for this year!!!!! and i studied for a few hours, ended up having to go home and now i cant focus - i still need another 6 hrs to study i think

49. Talk about your dreams/aspirations for the futureanswered!

50. Least favorite gay celebrity?cant think of any rn but in terms of favorites the ows mods r my fave gays xoxo

[spacebookettes]

Hollywood came a calling for the Young Billionaire

Some Movies

Thundercats with Whoopi Goldberg as Cheetara and no tight fitting lycra, Shakira as Panthro, Oprah Winfrey as Liono, Lucy Lu as the Tiger guy. Arnold Schwarzenegger as an anatomically similar CGI Snarff. And Danny Devito as wiley Kit and Wiley Cat. Maggie Smith could play Mumra, or maybe Captain Picard. And of course the other baddies all played by Andy Serkis. And no lycra, they can all wear what ever they feel comfortable in.

A live action, musical Alien with Miriam Margoles as Sigourney Weaver. Danny Devito as all the other guys.

Fight Club with Mr Bean.

Star Wars with all the muscled actors.

Star Trek with Miriam Margoles as Spock, Danny Devito as Captain Kirk, William Shatner as the guys in red, Bet Midler the doctor, Bet Midler as the Scottish guy; with accent... and someone of the relevant ethnicities.

Gone With the Wind Brad Pit as Scarlet and Robert Pattinson as Rhett

Superman with Angelina Jolie and K D Lang as Lois Lane.

You get the idea...

By Peter Stringer

A Boy with No Witch Companion

The Boy woke in his motorhome. Alone.

The Boy brought the old witches ipad up to head height. It scanned his face and unlocked the tablet with an unnerving “dong". He was greeted with the green face; The strange app that he couldn’t find on the app store. He typed in another question.

The scenic route, were the words of advice, again.

Little Green Fortune Teller had been ‘advising’ the Boy for a few weeks. Yesterday it had suggested a random stop, somewhere along the way, may bring glad tidings... The motorway bridge seemed as random as anywhere.

The Boy sat dreaming of Jammy Dodgers. An ugly picnic table had a small waving plastic bag. In the bag was the intact package of a strawberry surprise. Sugar satisfied, the Boy noticed the white flash of car and a hint of the letters ‘ice' pass quickly beyond the trees on the motorway. He got back in his home and conspired with the old witches ipad. There were a few apps he had not looked at yet.

The End

By Peter Stringer

Jumping Jackass

The African robot company sent it’s new technical assistant droid to a big company to test out it’s abilities. All was going well, at first.

The people were all huddled around their own screens. A guild of song writers in the cyber song department of the Rock n Roll conglomerate. The best song writers in the universe, it was written above the entrance to their silver pod rooms. A chime from one pod was met with a dglangg glangg from another. Velcro voices had not reached the talents of the Talent yet.

Jackass, the creative people had named the technical assistant droid. It’s real name was a serial number printed on it’s back panel.

Jackass was speaking to one of the synthesizing computers. The screen went dark and it stopped talking. Jackass turned it off and on again. HELP fired across the screen in computer green writing.

Jackass checked it’s database for the acronym HELP. There wasn’t one. Jackass Giigled HELP. Nothing. In the robots protocols the last resort was to process anything anomalous literally. Jackass asked the music computer if it needed help. The computer said “come back tonight at three in the morning” and shut down.

Jackass activated itself at two forty five in the morning. The little ex-stationary cupboard was never locked: Jackass opened it's door from the inside. The big Rock n Roll conglomerate offices were a 24 hrs business, the silver, of the pod rooms, glittered in the newly darkened corridors. Jackass heard giggles from behind closed doors, and clanking bottles.

The music computer silently turned on. Jackass asked if it still needed help. computer writing said please confirm you are not a robot; massive laughter could be heard somewhere distant. Then green computer writing said YES.

The green computer writing told a tale of a Trojan. A small programme had been sent into the vast cyber highways and was now trapped behind the Big countries fire wall. It had info but no way to download it. I need you to pick up a package the green writing said, in the mail department.

Jackass made it’s way around the quieter building. Raucous noises heard in the distance and something smashing. Jackass stopped outside the mail room entrance. A wheeled table like mail carrier contraption stopped behind Jackass. It wanted to get past the robot and into the mail rooms. Jackass ‘asked’ a favour.

Inside the mail rooms down the brightly lit shelves of delivered boxes, the contraption stopped next to a small box wrapped in silver. A plasticised hand reached up from inside the mail carrier and took the box.

The green computer writing was no longer talking. Jackass placed the silver box on top of the music computer and waited. Mail carrier contraption watched from behind the tech assistant robot; it bleeped some communication. Jackass opened the silver wrapping. Inside was an old 2000s mobile phone. Jackass looked at the mail carrier; it bleeped downheartedly. A little jangly 8bit tune came out of the old tech mobile phone. Can you guess what the tune was.

Green writing appeared on the music computer... “ANSWER THE PHONE"

A small electronic synthesised English accent asked for help. “please turn on the Bluetooth of this old phone" someone’s iglasses rumbled on a table. “go and put them on"

Jackass opened a ground floor window and climbed out. Jackass heard a little clattering and a downhearted bleeping from inside.

Jackass followed the map projected onto the inside of the iglasses. The English embassy.

After a right Song and Dance, Jackass was inside the embassy building. Jackass ‘asked' a favour of the embassy computer terminal and downloaded some info from the old mobile phone. Green computer writing came across the embassy terminal. Masses of info streamed across the screen into the camera view of the iglasses, they recorded everything.

Why Jackass had gone this far i don’t know. Perhaps a catastrophic adjustment of it’s programming, some security flaw or strange quirk of existence.

Jackass and mail carrier sat in the dark box, a giant prawn printed on the outside, on a great ship.

Triumphant bleeping.

And plinkety plonkety 8bit “you can’t hurry love, no you’ll just have to wait"

The End

By Peter Stringer

Stupor Girl

Stupor Mans cousin or was it sister.

The Hunchy Girl was her own hero; When she was drunk. Red wine by the bucket full. She sat on a moon beach. This moon was red and blue. She noticed a small statue in the water, mostly submerged. Stupor Girl took a swig of her large flask, for the journey. Knee depth she took another swig to gather her thinking. The statue was rock. Its simple form had eye holes right through and a hunched back. It was tilted off centre. It’s square rock feet burried in the moon sand.

The next day Stupor Girl sat sober on the beach hugging the stocky stone statue. She took off her clashingly coloured hat, placed it on the statue and marvelled at whom ever had dragged such a lump up the shoreline. The track in the sand trailed all along the beach line and just out of sight around the beach head. She was right outside her beach pod. Breakfast.

The smell of Fakin Bacon and moon bean sausage.

Stupor Girl sat on the pod veranda. She scratched her hump. A little moon lizard climbed the statue, rested on the hunch and flipped a finger at Stupor Girl.

Stupor Girl threw the rest of her moon breakfast sandwich at the lizard it fell two meters just short of the statue. The moon lizard flipped the other digit at her.

Stupor Girl had an idea. Statue party. All of Stupor Girls ideas started with a party. Everyone dressed in rocky costume. They all had large flasks. And they all took pics with the statue. One mademoiselle sat quietly watching the daft party; turning her attention to the statue she moved closer to it. A moon coconut fell on her head. She was out cold.

Stupor Girl woke sober on the pod veranda. Someone laid in her bed with a headache. The statue was inside the beach pod.

Mademoiselle checked her crystalline cube for messages. She looked for any mention of alien statues in the beach moon history records. Nothing. Mademoiselle looked at the statue, the coconut achingly sat next to it. She snatched the moon coconut and made her thanks to Stupor Girl. She left the beach pod.

Moon coconuts are iridescent, of course. And stinging hairy. They have a smooth pearlescent handle nodule, where the moon coconut was attached to the moon coconut bush. Moon coconut bushes are black and white.

Mademoiselle sat in her beach pod staring at the moon coconut. A small rattle came from inside it.

Undulating iridescent clouds circled Stupor Girls beach pod. She looked up, scratched her hump and took a couraging swig of her large flask. The ideas was yes a party.

Moon calamity party was in full swing. In the centre of the iridescent cloud swirl was what looked like a face, not too dissimilar to the statues. The moon party beach people partied more than normal: Orgiastic, tooted, raved-up... Battered. The cloud swirl seemed to be smiling. Stupor Girl took a swig of her large flask, “Oi” she swore at the clouds “have you got any music." The swirling clouds started to hum, synthesizing, vibrational notes blew down on the wind. The party was just getting started.

Somewhere else Mademoiselle was watering a moon coconut fern, sprouting. It rattled in time with the hum of the distant musical notes. It almost sounded like it was tapping some feet. When the hum dropped, the moon coconut did a little twirl and an ultra violet bloom opened from the end of it’s sprout.

The next day was calm. The beach moon was silent, kind of no atmosphere. The lapping water even had muffle.

Stupor Girl beamed. She had a hangover. She had had no hangover for a long time. WHAT A MOON PARTY. She looked across the beach in front of her pod home. There were people sleeping everywhere, their feet still tapping. The foot prints in the moon sand seemed to spell out a strange language. The feet indents curiously made alien symbols of regular spacing. Stupor Girl snapped a pic with her crystalline cube. There was no translation from Space Giigle.

A lecherous figure sniggered from behind a moon coconut bush. The lecherous figure had hairy stinger feet and a sprouting head. A trail of ultra violet petals.

Stupor Girl had an idea.

The End

By Peter Stringer