#i hate that i cant just. close my phone and know it'll open on the post I was just on

[bunnyboy-juice]

sad bc my dash is super dead and I know the fact i follow < 200 blogs (and that the ppl i follow arent like online all the time often) absolutely contributes to this emptyness but also. WHINING AND STOMPING MY FEET bc this didnt used to happen when i didnt have to worry ab the tumblr app refreshing itself after a light breeze happens outside the building i happen to be using my phone in

[clarkeybabey]

❝ playing my heartstrings like a rock star ❞

# summary; you're messing with his feelings and he doesn't understand why

# playlist; hey arthur!, arthur hill, think i'm in love with you, chris stapleton, please notice, christian leave

# word count; 1.9k

# note; i needed a happy ending my first fic on here cant be angst<3 I did not proofread this so sorry

The three boys sat in their sitting room, a comfortable silence lingering as they scrolled through their phones. "Arthur wants to know if we're going to come to the pub with him," George finally spoke up, looking to his friends and mentally crossing his fingers they'd agree. They deserved it after the week they've had.

Arthur chews the inside of his lip waiting for Chris' reply, not wanting to be the one to reject the invitation, but he knows you'll be there after your earlier text about going for drinks.

Chris shrugs laying his phone down next to him, "I don't see why not," both he and George stand, heading in the direction of their bedrooms to grab sweaters and shoes, assuming everyone is down.

When they disappear from sight, Arthur finds himself groaning, pressing his palms so hard to his closed eyes that he sees stars dotting his vision when he eventually opens them. It's not that he doesn't want to see you, he knows that when he does he can't resist the later idea of going home with you and he hates himself for it.

"They can't know," you always say, referring to your shared group of friends, "it'll throw off the dynamic, you can just come to my flat for the night on the weekend." You're grown adults, who cares what you get into when you're alone? He doubts anyone would really care as much as you think, but every time he tries to express that someone ends up with their feelings hurt, and 99.9% of the time they're his.

He makes his way to his room, spending more time than he cares to admit trying to find the cologne he knows is your favorite. His closet's a mess, but he finds the jumper you love to steal kicking himself for trying so hard as he throws it on over his old t-shirt. He stands in his bathroom pulling a baseball cap on to cover how flat his hair had become from lying on the couch for the last two hours.

Chris is yelling something from the kitchen about how he's worse than a woman about his looks, he can't find it in himself to care enough to think of a witty reply, instead just shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

their bar of choice isn't far so they decide walking is the better and cheaper option, the walk is quick, and he stays a few paces behind his friends with music playing in his airpods as he gives himself a pep talk preparing to see you.

You sit at the bar with Becky and Arthur chatting about everything and nothing all at once, "You know, babe, I still need to get you on see it off, George and both Arthurs have nominated you now," she remarks, smirking as she brings her pint to her lips, you look to Arthur whos nodding along with her.

As the three of you chat, you're practically yelling over the people around you, "Let me know a date and we'll get it sorted," you smile, Arthur pipes up about needing the toilet and slips off his stool heading off in the direction of the restrooms.

As soon as he's out of sight, she scoots into the seat he once inhabited with her brows raised, "Anything new with you and Mr Hill?" You sigh, dreading having to answer that question, "There won't be anything new ever I don't think, I've made it clear how bad of an idea we are," your stomach turns at your own words, suddenly feeling a wave of nausea wash over you.

It wasn't like you didn't want anything other than to be with him, but everyone was so close and the what if's shadow how good the relationship could be.

What if something bad happens and you can't spend time together as a big group any longer? What if you couldn't film together? What if you had to listen to songs written about how bad of a girlfriend you were? She groans, her head falling onto her crossed arms, "You're so doubtful, darling. Give him a shot, he's such a sweet boy, especially to you." She sounded exactly like your mum when you told her the same thing after he came home with you one weekend. Sighing you continue, "I've never met someone like him-" You're cut off suddenly as rough hands slap over your eyes, "Guess who," George Clarke and his atrociously fake, heightened voice are quite unmistakable, you shove his hands away, giggling, and spin on your stool.

Your heart thumps against your chest, rattling your ribcage knowing there's no chance he and Chris showed up without the one person you've been waiting all week to see, sure enough there he is, though he's not even looking in your direction instead his eyes are glued to his phone screen with both headphones in, obviously not wanting to be here in the slightest.

You greet the boys not really paying any mind to anything being said, keeping your attention on Arthur the whole time. finally, once the four of your friends are distracted, you slip off your barstool and join him at the table he was sitting at alone, "You alright?" your question hangs in the air as you sink your teeth into the plush of your lower lip, "Fine, thanks," he replies dryly going out of his way to seem as uninterested as possible.

Scoffing, you snatch his phone from his hand, pausing whatever was playing on his Spotify, "Talk to me, please? I missed you." His eyes soften at your words as he fights with himself not to give in to you too easily, "missed you too," he mumbles as he picks at the skin on his fingers anxiously wanting to spew all the thoughts he's having about the two of you. Together.

Luckily for him, you beat him to it, "I wanna be with you," your words are lost to him at first as he sputters, not truly believing what he's just heard. He hates the way you can read his mind, "Like, seriously, I mean it, but we can't" he shakes his head bitterly, thinking this has to be some sort of sick joke you and Becky had strewn together.

"Do you know how many times I've heard that, y/n? I mean, seriously, tell it to someone else." He sounds so dismissive, and it hurts, but nothing hurts as bad as the sight of tears welling up in his pretty eyes. You just sit there, looking at him blankly with a lump forming in your throat, searching his eyes for something other than what he's said, but you can't seem to find it.

You scoff sliding his phone across the table back to him, "Right, sorry," you nod biting at the skin on the inside of your cheek, you turn on your heels and Arthur hates the look that you give him over your shoulder as you wrap your arms around yourself, like you see right through his attitude into the deeper side of things.

When you return George is wearing the glasses you mistakenly left in now-drunk Becky's purse, faking your accent in the worst way you've ever heard, "Those are prescription, you're gonna hurt your eyes," you sigh shaking your head, doing your best to smile. You pull them away from his face by the bridge, folding them to tuck into the v of your top, "Think 'm gonna get going," you mumble, avoiding everyone's eyes as the laughter dies down.

"So soonnnn?" Becky pouts jutting out her bottom lip for good measure, tucking your phone into your back pocket, murmuring something about how you have to film in the morning. Your friends say goodbye as you go around hugging everyone, when you get to Chris he pulls you in and whispers into your ear, "Take Arthur with you, please? He's bloody miserable." His breath is hot and riddled with the smell of beer as it fans across your face.

From across the room, Arthur feels his blood run hot as Chris whispers something to you and his hand lingers on your waist for longer than he deems friendly or comfortable, rolling his eyes he nibbles at the dry skin on his bottom lip until he begins to notice the familiar metallic taste of blood linger on his tongue. Nothing about this evening was going well and it just seems like lives trying to get back at him for something he doesn't even know he's done.

He was too busy in his own head to notice your presence just next to him, "C'mon, my uber's waiting," nearly falling off his stool as your words snapped him from the trance he was in, "Not up for it tonight," you scoff at his words, of course, he's thinking the opposite of what you had planned.

"Don't want you to fuck me, just wanna spend time with you," His brows raise involuntarily at your bluntness, a smirk playing on his lips, knowing you can't stay away just as much as he, boosts his confidence every damn time.

He doesn't find it in himself to reject you again, simply sliding off the still and interlocking your fingers, hoping to God every one of your friends is watching. As you make it outside your uber is in fact not there, he's about a mile out so you lean against the brick wall, Arthur's close proximity looming over you, "What was Chris on about?" Your drooping eyes shoot open, and the jealousy in his voice makes you smirk, seeing an opportunity to toy with him, just a bit,

"What's it to you," you shoot back, arms crossed over your chest he steps closer suddenly invading your space, his cologne which so happens to be your favorite begins to cloud your nose and mind as your chest rises and falls, adrenaline coursing through your veins. "You know exactly what it is to me, sweetheart."

His thumb and forefinger grip your chin forcing you to meet his eyes, the rings of his hands are cold against your heating face, "If 'm going home with you, I suggest you share." Your breath hitches at the dominance that's suddenly radiating off him, you fight the urge to let your eyes roll back into your head as his breath fans across your face, instead letting them fall closed once more.

You swallow, once more allowing eye contact, "He thought you were miserable and I should take you home with me." The smirk on your face makes Arthur regret ever telling Chris and George about how he'd wanted to spend more time with you. "I want to give this a shot," he scans your face waiting for you to remind him how you shouldn't but you don't say anything else.

"You mean it," his thumb rubs circles on the exposed skin of your hip, you nod, knowing words would betray you, "Need to hear you say it," he sounds breathless, looking at you with hopeful raised eyebrows.

"I wanna be your girlfriend-" his lips meet yours before you can even finish your thought, both hands cupping cupping your face. A wolf whistle comes from your immediate left and he pulls away but doesn't step back, shielding you from view, though you see over his shoulder as both George and Arthur hand Becky what look to be ten-pound notes.

[sickiebabytae]

If your requests are still open and if you have time, can I request a scenerio where a member eats something way too late at night (like ramen or something) and wakes up in the morning really nauseous? My brain is screaming either Jungkook or Namjoon but I’ll leave the sickie up to you! ❤️ thanks in advance!! I love your writing

thank you so much for the request, anon!! I'm so so sorry it's taken me literally forever to get to this, and that I kind of derailed a bit when it came to the original plot 😭😭 I hope this is still to your liking!

sickie: jungkook

caretaker: namjoon

word count: 2125

jungkook knows this will be a bad idea the moment he sets out the (six) ramen cups neatly on the table, but rational thinking isn't really in his ballpark right now. he's been feeling stressed out from their tour lately, and feels as if he hasn't been performing as well as he should be, so he thinks he needs a good stress-eating session to get his mind off of things. 

but as jungkook takes a step back and looks at the ramen cups laid out, he can't help but laugh to himself. "this is so stupid." he murmurs, pulling out his phone. this is something he thinks army might enjoy. plus, he's been trying to be more active on Twitter recently. he captions the photo with something funny and his hashtag before setting his phone down and beginning.

just as he finishes getting through the first cup and a half, lips already zinging with spice, he feels his phone vibrate against the table. he picks it up and sees it's a message from namjoon.

rapmon hyung: jungkook what the hell are you doing

rapmon hyung: I saw your post -_-

jungkook feels a sheepish smile spread across his face.

jungkook: … I'm eating my emotions

jungkook: :D

rapmon hyung: good god jungkook

rapmon hyung: this screams bad idea, you know

rapmon hyung: your stomach is going to hate you tomorrow :/

jungkook: ill be fine hyung dw

jungkook: we've got a off day tomorrow anyways, it'll be fine

rapmon hyung: you know jimin wants to go sightseeing tomorrow

jungkook: yeah, I know, I'll be okay for it :)

jungkook: please don't worry hyung, it cant turn out THAT bad

jungkook can practically hear namjoon sighing from his hotel room a few doors down

rapmon hyung: okay fine

rapmon hyung: I trust you

rapmon hyung: but don't say i didn't warn you

jungkook: ay ay captain

with that, jungkook returns to his food.

this was definitely a bad idea, jungkook thinks to himself when he's all done. well, mostly done. by the last two he couldn't bring himself to finish off the soup at the bottom. his stomach is already bloated and full beyond belief.

he decides to make light of the situation and posts an update to twitter with one photo of the (nearly) empty ramen cups and one selfie of him looking, very rightly, in pain. his lips feel swollen and his nose won't stop running and itching from the spice, eyes watery too. he throws all the cups away and shuffles into the bathroom, washing his face down and stifling a burp into his hand. he shudders and sighs. "you idiot, jungkook," the singer whispers to himself, voice thick. he pushes himself back out to his room and gets into bed. maybe lying down will help him digest, he thinks, all lessons he's ever learned in his entire life failing to come to him as his eyes start drooping closed. he feels like he's going to be sick already and he doesn't like it. maybe he'll just… rest his eyes for a moment. let the world fall silent around him. yeah, yeah that's what he'll do. 

against his will, jungkook begins to fall asleep, and he drifts off before he's even able to stop himself.

jungkook wakes up in the middle of the night, sweaty and stomach cramping. he winces and sits up instantly. "oh god- fuck-" he swings his legs over the side of the bed, but that alone forces stomach acid up that burns his throat as he burps. he places a hand over his mouth and cringes, swallowing. "shit-" he freezes in place with no idea what to do. how did this happen? he feels so much worse than when he did when he-

he fell asleep. a groan leaves his lips. he just had to have fallen asleep. his stomach is killing him, bubbling and churning. he thinks he's going to throw up. 

moving slowly, he shuffles to the table and grabs his phone. more stomach acid burns up his throat, swallowing again. he goes to text namjoon since he seemed to be the only one who was caught up with his shenanigans the night before and sees that he missed a message right before he fell asleep.

rapmon hyung: jungkook you look terrible-

rapmon hyung: did you really eat all of that??

jungkook sighs before reluctantly sending a text of his own, deciding to ignore namjoon's. he only hopes that namjoon is either still awake or won't wake up from the message notification. he just wants someone to know what's happening

jungkook: I feel sick

jungkook: really sick

jungkook: I'm really sorry :( 

jungkook shuffles back to bed and sits down, not wanting to lay back in case it makes whatever acid reflux is going on worse. he jolts with a hiccup and grimaces, untucking his shirt from the jeans he'd forgotten to change out of that keep digging into his stomach. he slips his hand in between the hemline and his abdomen to give it some leeway, sighing when it provides the slightest bit of relief. he knows he should get up and change, but he doesn't want to risk it. he feels like the tiniest movement will set his stomach off.

his phone vibrates in his other hand to jungkook's surprise and he lifts it to look at the screen to see namjoon having responded to his message.

rapmon hyung: god kid I told u

rapmon hyung: hold on

rapmon hyung: I'm coming over

jungkook's eyes widen, mortified already. namjoon cant come, he knows he looks a mess.

jungkook: no no no-

jungkook: hyung it's fine really

jungkook: I just felt like someone should know

jungkook: hyung-

as jungkook types out his next text, he hears knocking at the door followed by a hushed, "jungkook? are you in there?"

jungkook suppresses a groan and slowly pushes himself to stand, stifling a low whimper when his stomach churns in protest. he makes his way to the door, unable to straighten properly from just how full and in pain he is, and opens it with cheeks flushed with both shame and the beginnings of what might be a fever. jungkook doesn't know at this point. "hey, hyung." he murmurs. he can't bring himself to meet namjoon's eyes.

he hears the leader sigh and make his way in, warm hands coming to rest by jungkook's sides. "you idiot, come on. let's go back to bed. I'll grab you some clothes."

jungkook manages a few short nods, trudging his way back to bed and laying down in a curled up position, fighting back a grimace and laying his hand back over his stomach. he can vaguely make out namjoon shuffling around the room, grumbling under his breath. probably something to do with jungkook's clothing organization. or lack thereof; jungkook has always had a bit of an unorthodox way of storing his clothes while on tour. it's just how his brain works, okay?

still keeping his gaze averted, jungkook feels the bed dip next to him. he allows himself the smallest of glances and notices the clothes on namjoon's lap. jungkook can't help but smile; those are some of his favorite pyjamas to wear on hard days. he didn't know that namjoon had picked up on it.

"arms up." namjoon orders gently. jungkook reluctantly complies. he can't help but blush when namjoon pulls his soiled, sweaty shirt off, feeling embarrassed that namjoon has to deal with this. to top it off, jungkook shivers when the air conditioning hitting him, realizing belatedly that his bloated stomach is now on display and painfully obvious. jungkook finds himself wrapping his arms around it as quickly as possible and curling in on himself. 

namjoon sighs. "jungkook-ah, look at me please." 

jungkook shakes his head stubbornly. but before he knows it, namjoon's hand comes up to his cheek and tilts his head up, their eyes meeting. jungkook finally clocks just how welled up with tears his are, and he can see it when namjoon clocks it, too. "jungkook, are you crying??"

at that, jungkook feels his bottom lip quiver. a sob bubbles up out of him, unexpectedly. "fuck, I'm sorry-" he tries to look away again, but namjoon doesn't let up. 

"hey hey, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like such a big deal I just-" namjoon sighs again. "you're feeling really sick, huh?"

jungkook manages a pathetic nod. another sob. 

namjoon gives a nod back. "okay, that's okay." he says; it sounds like he's talking more to himself than jungkook, but the maknae is too caught up in his self pity to notice it all that much. "we can get through this, not the first time one of us has gotten knocked down."

"but… the sightseeing… the others-"

"will understand if you can't make it tomorrow." namjoon promises with a gentle smile. "now let's finish getting you changed so you don't get more sick from the cold hitting you." 

it's been an hour and jungkook has yet to fall asleep. namjoon lays next to him, having already drifted off a while ago, snoring away without a care in the world. jungkook is extremely jealous. his stomach is still gurgling and churning and it doesn't seem to want to provide him with any relief any time soon.

slowly, carefully, jungkook pushes himself up into a sitting position, afraid that he might choke on the productive burps that keep crawling up his throat. he worries at his fingers. his breathing feels short and heavy and jungkook swears under his breath. he hates this. he hates being sick. arguably more than anything in the world. he hates feeling so gross and out of control and-

great, he's crying again. jungkook shoves his head into his hands and tries not to make too much sound. this is all his fault, and he knows it, and that makes the whole situation so much worse somehow; this disaster is a product of his own making.

jungkook's head continues to swim and swirl with thoughts, and before he knows it, something heavy rushes up his throat. his mouth waters dangerously, a sour feeling coating the back of his tongue and weighing it down. he's definitely going to throw up. he feels it coming on, and fast.

throwing the sheets off himself as quickly as he can, jungkook hurries to the bathroom and shuts the door behind him, hand clamped over his mouth. he crouches in front of the toilet with a few heavy pants, white-knuckling the sides of the bowl. the first wave of vomit comes out of him with a guttural gag before jungkook can even fully process that it's happened. and then another wave comes out. and then another. and then he's rolling; more specifically, his stomach is rolling. agonizingly so. 

jungkook tries his hardest to be quiet. he really, really does. but it's difficult to do so when each round of puke rips his breath from his chest and burns the way up his throat, eliciting involuntarily whimpers and groans and pants.

he feels a warm hand on his back before he registers the fact that someone has joined him in the bathroom; namjoon. jungkook can't help but give a choked sob. "i-i'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I-"

"shh," namjoon hushes. "it's okay. just get everything up, it'll help you feel better."

namjoon's calm, deep voice helps some of the tension leave jungkook's muscles, but they quickly seize up again when he has to throw up once more.

after another five minutes or so go by, the last few filled with nothing but weak, unproductive gags and pants as jungkook tries to regain his breath, namjoon decides to make the executive decision that jungkook is done. the leader reaches over to flush the toilet and helps jungkook to his feet. "come on, let's wash out your mouth and go to bed."

jungkook gives a weak moan but lets himself be dragged to the sink, pliable. now that his stomach is left with nothing more than a dull ache, and waves of relief continually washing over him from the nausea finally being gone, jungkook is tired. so, so tired. he barely feels it as namjoon guides him through washing out his mouth and leading him back to bed, helping jungkook sit on the edge as namjoon shuffles off to grab a new shirt, jungkook having soiled the one he'd changed into from sweat. 

the boy is practically already out cold by the time he's been changed and tucked in. the last thing he registers is a gentle touch brushing back his hair and the familiar voice of his leader whispering for him to "sleep well, jungkookie."

[cattles-bians]

damie vibecca exes au part 8

post directory

obsetress: now i just want fanart of damvibecca at the gym

em: well. pitch it to me comrade ghostfucker

obsetress: idk that's about as far as i got i just reread that bit about vibecca in their matching gym outfits and my brain got stuck

em: hypothetically do u have a colour palette in mind bc i associate gym outfits w like. bright loud colours and

em: idk if it works w our earth sign queens

[em note: emily is a liar and did NOT draw fanart of damvibecca at the gym]

[em note 2: we have the gym art now [x] [x]]

obsetress: i was imagining like charcoals tbh, or jewel tones

obsetress: i could see them in like jewel tone purples or that jewel tone blue green color

obsetress: yeah viola jewel tones or blacks n charcoals

obsetress: becs pastels and camels but jewel tones at the gym

em: it’s about Matching

em: And Destroying Ur Ex (platonically)

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: viola's feeling particularly smug about it but then

obsetress: dani's in an old school tshirt and shorts and jamie's in............ one of dani's old school tshirts and shorts

em: YES

obsetress: not intentionally, she just grabbed whatever was there

obsetress: dani chirps "oh you two look so cute! baby look, they have a matched set"

obsetress: viola arches an eyebrow "and so do you, it seems" and dani laughs "not on purpose, jamie just grabbed whatever was on top in the drawer"

viola: you two... share... a wardrobe?

dani: yeah?

em: god cute

obsetress: cute n dumb

em: they can share nearly everything except pants

em: well. pants as a treat

em: haha pants

em: trousers

obsetress: also rly nice rly clean smooth funny juxtaposition in my brain of vibecca being the ones who intentionally match and damie the ones for whom it just accidentally happens

obsetress: hahahah pants

obsetress: they can share pants but................ should they

em: idk miss chapter 12 danis thighs jamies pyjamas

em: should they

obsetress: PLEASE

obsetress: that's exactly what i was referring to THANKS

obsetress: anyway

obsetress: rebecca just laughs

obsetress: viola huffs and bex is like "sorry, babe, but it is kind of funny"

em: dani jamie wearing like

obsetress: YEAH

obsetress: MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY

em: poor viola

obsetress: thinking about dani's ass in those

em: yeah....

em: violas huffing until jamies exercise flush lasts a little Too Long

obsetress: big blush jamie taylor

em: she’s still like ‘oi dani close ur mouth’ but then she

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: just ogling each other

obsetress: (they briefly pause to ogle vi and rebecca passing a medicine ball back and forth as they do squats and have to acknowledge that, yeah, they've all done alright by themselves)

em: funny montage of the gang doing exercise while surreptitiously taking Peaks

obsetress: omg all i want

obsetress:sometimes having friends as a lesbian means they're all your exes except one, who's your gf, and you're all checking each other out always anyway

em

And That’s Beautiful

obsetress

obsetress: dani: checking out viola's biceps, rebecca's abs

viola: checking out dani's thighs n ass

rebecca: minding her business

jamie: scowling n scrawny

obsetress:(n also checking out dani's thighs n ass, viola's biceps, and begrudgingly peeking at rebecca's abs)

obsetress: every other woman at the gym: checking out jamie, trying to figure out the entire dynamic here

are they a polycule? what

em: jamie probably like

em: maybe she gets really into running bc she just checks out and listens to her audiobooks but like

em: slow twitch vs fast twitch fibers so stays scrawny

obsetress: i can see that

obsetress: just gets on the treadmill and zones tf out

em: jamie ‘why don’t i have biceps’ taylor vs jamie ‘no u gotta lift w ur hips’ taylor

obsetress: she hates it but her psych told her it'll be good for her routine so you know she was like yes ma'am every day ma'am

em: cant believe safe lifting procedures screwed her over

em: ‘yes ma’am every day ma’am’ ur just Going for it arent ya anshdjdh

obsetress: sorry but don't tell me you can't hear it

obsetress: jamie's the person who takes notes in therapy

obsetress: jamie, in the locker room after their workout: do my biceps look bigger?

dani, patiently, already knowing where this is going: bigger than what, baby?

jamie: than yesterday

dani: mm, rome wasn't built in a day, you know

jamie: do they look bigger at all?

dani: well

em: i mean not to perceive her too much but mattresses scene indicates AE/jamie like. at least some muscle in the leg area

em: poor jamie

em: not playing to her strengths

obsetress: yeah she does

obsetress: i mean ae has toned af arms

obsetress: she's just wiry

em: how could i forget the benchpressing dog gif

obsetress: dani's like "jamie, baby, come do squats with me and vi" "m'good" "baby, c'mon, you'll like it" "don't wanna do squats" "it could be good for you" "don't wanna do squats with you two"

em: dani: you gotta like. eat more

jamie: i eat plenty

dani: no u graze all day and then u don’t eat dinner

obsetress: dani: five biscuits spread out across a day doesn't count as eating more

em: dani: protein jamie it’s abt protein

obsetress: dani: you need more protein, which is why i think some lentils would really––

em: jamie thinks protein shakes are Nasty

obsetress: jamie does think protein shakes are nasty but dani will make her a smoothie and sneak it in like she's a child

obsetress: viola and rebecca, with their matching monogrammed blender bottles, just staring

obsetress: becca's like "jamie, just drink it, really, it's fine"

obsetress: viola just does this haughty sniff at her and that's what finally gets jamie to start

em: jamie can deal w being a brat but the idea of viola having Anything over her drives her Insane

em: Drives Her Fuckign Nuts

obsetress: she hates it

obsetress: just the absolute fuckin worst

em: do u think dani ever like

em: like they REALLY need to clear out storage but it’s a boiling frog situation where it’s increased so gradually that

em: like jamie thinks it’s Fine storage is Clear Enough

em: it’s Not

em: danis like. should we invite rebecca and vi over

em: just be Idea of A Snide Viola Comment fills jamie w a burning rage

obsetress: oh my god

obsetress: i'm obsessed with this

obsetress: i would read a whole oneshot about this

em: eventually dani comes clean abt it n jamie thinks it’s v funny bc yknow; open and honest communication is a v important part of their dynamic

em: jamie: next time just tell me my storage looks like shite dani or i will be grumbling abt viola for a Week

obsetress: inevitably

obsetress: when they do have to come over to clean

obsetress: dani offers them takeout and wine ("step up from pizza and beer at least," jamie grumbles) and viola's like "jesus, dani, let's just go out to dinner. my treat"

obsetress: at dinner, viola's like "if you want more storage, i have some wonderful properties––"

obsetress: rebecca's mouthing "sorry" from next to her across the table

em: every time they go out rebecca takes vi aside n is like ok sweetheart so you promise you’re not gonna try convince them to sell the apartment again

em: and violas like (mock horror) of course i won’t. ye of little faith

em: and every time

em: every time she does

em: she’s tryna HELP

obsetress: she would too she'd be like

obsetress: "i'm just trying to HELP"

obsetress: "they're our FRIENDS"

em: i’m on a mission to figure out like

em: this is way way down the line

em: but i wanna believe eventually viola and jamie start to, at the v least, Tolerate each other

em: jamie might even be fond of the crazy bird but she’ll NEVER admit it

obsetress: god like vi's on business or some shit in like

obsetress: the UAE

obsetress: negotiating some Deal

obsetress: and so dani and jamie get dinner with just bex and they're driving home after and having a perfectly mundane conversation and then jamie's just blurting like

obsetress: "i think i miss vi"

em: she’s HORRIFIED

em: she tries to play it off as like um

em: she’s Too Comfortable

em: things are Too Boring

em: which is weird knowing everything we know abt jamie

em: but actually she just... maybe misses viola

em: danis like god i wish i was recording this

obsetress: jamie's passed out next to her at home later (it's ten pm) and dani's chattering happily away on the phone with vi (drinking a martini in her dubai hotel room at one am since, y'know, no bars) in bed right next to her

obsetress: "jamie, uh, said she misses you. i know. no, i KNOW. don't tell her i told you. yeah, yeah, you win, vi, we know. uh-huh. uh-huh. i'm gonna pretend you didn't just ask me that"

em: CUTE

em: u can’t lord it over her vi it’s a little secret

em: vi's like when have i EVER

em: she does

obsetress: once they're good again, dani and vi absolutely just. lose time (there's a metaphor in there) talking to each other still

em: this is wholesome tbh

em: i really like the damie stories where like

em: look it’s nice when damie have each other but it’s also nice when they have their own friends and stuff

em: dunno how to articulate that well

em: it’s a balance! it’s a balance

obsetress: yeah! exactly

obsetress: because that's part of the love n possession thing too yk

obsetress: not to say either of them would ever be like "no friends for you" but

obsetress: wanting to have a life outside of your partner yk

obsetress: they're meeting vi and rebecca for dinner after vi gets back and vi's just grinning and sweeping jamie into a hug "i heard you missed me"

em: she gets jamie a souvenir t-shirt

em: it’s too big

em: OR

em: child’s t-shirt

obsetress: (jamie sleeps in it that night)

obsetress: oh childs might be better

obsetress: she's like "you're a little scrawny, so..."

em: jamie sleeps in it.... soft bitch

em: she feels too much

obsetress: jamie taylor softest bitch

obsetress: dani watches her pull it on and raises an eyebrow and jamie's just like "wot"

em: jamies like (grumbles) i knew she was comin back i’m just

em: shouldn’t you be HAPPY about this development dani

em: ‘s’a gift... s’rude not t’....’

obsetress: YEAH

obsetress: dani just grins "mmhm"

em: it accidentally makes its way into jamies workout clothes pile

obsetress: oh my GOD oh my god

obsetress: viola's shit eating GRIN when jamie shows up at the gym in it

em: jamies like fok

em: mental maths tryna figure if she wants to just. work out in a sports bra

em: she Doesn’t

obsetress: she Doesn't!

obsetress: (she's shy)

em: god it’s one of those shirts that’s like

em: someone who loves me went to UAE and got me this t-shirt or something

obsetress: dani corners her in their empty row in the locker room "you could've just taken it off, you know" "dunno, not everyone needs to... see that, you know?" "i'd certainly like to see it" jamie rolls her eyes but she's grinning "you can see that any time" "well maybe i wanted to see it during my workout" "dani......."

em: jamies embarrassed bc of her gnarly farmers tan means her tummy is at least five shades lighter than the rest of her

em: crisp tan lines

obsetress: god jamie's farmers tan

em: once again i am bringing my tan lines jamie agenda

obsetress: dani loves jamies dumb farmers tan so much

obsetress: she giggles

obsetress: but it's the most loving giggle possible

em: and then when she gets into running...

em: god when i was rowing there were a couple ppl w like what i called a neapolitan icecream tan which is

em: gimme a second

obsetress: jamie gets all huffy when dani giggles at her tan but then dani's like "baby, no, i think it's cute" and jamie gives her a look and dani grins mischievously and ducks her head

obsetress: and then she's licking and kissing and nipping her way along jamie's dumb tan lines

em: there it is

obsetress: it was inevitable

em: so caught up in the joy of jamies dumb farmer tans i forgot abt her gnarly scar she keeps under wraps

em: baby

em: the most baby

obsetress: baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

em: jamie decides the only way to claim the stupid t-shirt as hers is to cut off the sleeves

em: it’s abt the ritual of the thing

obsetress: she shows up at the gym wearing it and

obsetress: that's viola's "oh no she's hot" moment

em: YEAH BABY

obsetress: literally just like

obsetress: world stops

obsetress: viola stares

em: jamie finally gets to do an exercise that shows off her sinewy manual labor grip forearms

em: viola’s probably just as horrified to find jamie hot as every time jamies like oh no

em: violas hot

em: and once again jamie CANNOT know she’s hot bc she will be insufferable

em: she will be the Worst

obsetress: viola's tugging rebecca aside "why didn't you tell me jamie was hot" "what?" viola waves a hand and rebecca just furrows her brow a little and is like "that's just... what she looks like, vi"

obsetress: viola corners dani next "why didn't you tell me jamie was hot" "i did" "oh. right" viola pauses, then "why didn't you make sure i was listening?" dani just gives her a look and walks away

obsetress: dflksdjfldaj god the way jamie and viola are. the same

obsetress: kind of incredibly, in the same ways dani and rebecca are the same

em: “hey baby, did viola seem different today? seemed off”

em: jamies like. is she mad at me. did i break another social taboo.

em: rebecca ‘jamie looks like jamie’ jessel vs dani ‘my gf is so hot i can’t stand it’ clayton

obsetress: "i tell you how hot she is at least three times a week, vi"

em: danis tryna goad her into making the damn shirt a crop top

em: jamies like yeah but isn’t that a step too far. i feel like i am destroying this shirt too much

em: she does it anyway

em: so jamies workout clothes are danis endless grey baggy school t-shirts and this one ugly souvenir shirt that like

em: psychological warfare and she doesn’t even know it

obsetress: i would........ like to see it

obsetress: also crop top jamie is one of my favorite jamies

obsetress: she is severely underrated

em: crop top jamie is

obsetress: and we do not talk about her enough

em: jamie wear More crop tops

obsetress: viola and rebecca in bed, in matching facemasks, after going to the gym post-epiphany that Jamie Is Hot

obsetress: viola: are dani and jamie hotter than us?

rebecca: what?

obsetress: and like

obsetress: viola is NOT insecure

obsetress: she is constantly confident that she's the most attractive woman in the room at any given moment, but

obsetress: she's just so staggered by this realization

em: some neutral third party (ms grose and mr sharma probably) are like well. u guys definitely have a little more of a scary thing going on

em: i’m imagining rebecca and viola at brunch w hannah and owen v seriously discussing this

em: viola brings it up and rebecca GROANS but then she gets invested in the convo

obsetress: GOD yeah

obsetress: she's leaning forward and gesturing with her fork "when you say 'scary'..........."

em: owens like scary is a compliment

em: hannah grose sips her tea knowingly

obsetress: rebecca just narrows her eyes at hannah grose and hannah raises her eyebrows and shrugs

em: after a week or so viola bursts into a room w stupid big sunglasses and a tray of take out coffees and she’s like Don’t You Worry Jamie I Have Concluded You’re Hot But I’m Not Threatened By It

em: jamies like sorry WHAT

em: you’ve been thinking about WHAT

em: viola leaves without ever following it up

obsetress: dani is entirely unfazed

obsetress: doesn't even blink

em: danis like neat she remembered the oat milk

em: everyone in this au is insane

obsetress: any lesbian in 2021 is insane

obsetress: par for the course

em: was gonna protest but

em: Yeah

obsetress: this lesbian meme account i follow on insta is doing “stop asking who’s the top and who’s the bottom. start asking...” posts

obsetress: and one of them is “start asking who’s baby and who’s fuck around and find out” and it just makes me chuckle

obsetress: jamie taylor baby

obsetress: viola lloyd also baby

em: dani is baby passing and jamie is fuck around faking

obsetress: oh my god that’s why that’s why i think we cracked it

obsetress: dani (fuck around) dated jamie (baby) and vi (baby)

obsetress: rebecca (fuck around) dated jamie (baby) and vi (baby)

obsetress: the reason they could never cross further even tho per the transitive property dani (so similar to vi) should be able to date beccs and jamie (so similar to beccs) should be able to date vi is because

obsetress: you can’t have two babies and two fuck arounds in a relationship together

em: oh of course. i see. i see

em: however in the rare rare crack ship of the ‘jamie viola hatefuck’ a similar phenomenon to ‘social anxiety mum friend ordering food’ instinct takes over and someone fucks around and finds out

em: this is just my unhinged jamie viola hatefuck bulkshit which is. it’s ironic ok it’s ironic it’s ironic it’s

em: ok one last thought bc i know it’s super late for u but

obsetress: omg i also have a last thought let’s trade

em: what if mikey is about isabels age n jamie ends up looking after him for one reason or another for a bit

em: and viola absolutely Dotes on him

obsetress: omg

obsetress: that’s what does it. jamie seeing viola w mikey

em: grumble grumble i guess she’s not that bad

em: except then she’s like god what if mikey likes her MORE than me

obsetress: “dani what if mikey gets one of those weird first crushes on vi”

obsetress: dani doesn’t even look up from the laundry “who hasn’t had a crush on vi”

obsetress: jamie’s like “mE” and dani just gives her the most withering look

em: danis like It’s Par For The Course Jamie

em: danis a teacher she’s like it happens don’t sweat it

em: anyway

em: what was. what was ur last little thought

obsetress: i was just thinking more about viola also baby and how also she’s been so privileged her whole life that sometimes there are just some things she can’t do for herself because she just doesn’t know how

obsetress: like she’s never had to learn

em: rebecca gets um

em: freeze dried coffee

em: nescafé

obsetress: but like

obsetress: rebecca genuinely loves taking care of vi for whatever reason (it’s because she loves her) when she really needs it but

obsetress: rebecca also takes no shit and is like “i’m not making the nescafé for you. you’re 36 years old, vi, you need to learn to do it for yourself”

obsetress: and she’ll stand there and watch her do it and then she makes vi do it at least three more times for posterity

obsetress: “i’ll make a plebeian of you yet, viola lloyd”

obsetress: (god only the two of them would think a line like that is funny)

[creampuffsn]

I looked at her pale sleeping face. Even her eyes are closed and in the blanket of nothingness, i can't tell if she's in peace. She's been fighting her bone cancer for fifteen years. It was been discovered when she's five and i guess that's where Mom started being stressed until now. My sister would undergo her operation tomorrow. We never got along in so many ways but I'm not ready to lose her yet. Yngrid even laughed so hard as i sulked in my room after knowing she really needed the operation. There's a 70-30% chance of both prons and cons. The family's gut feelings are enough to win the 70% for pros and Yngrid wanted to fight too. 

I was about to drift off in the sofa next to her hospital bed when i remembered she left her favorite lavender shawl on the rooftop and she asked me to fetch it for her. She loves staying there during 5pm to witness the orange hue of sky. I stood and paved my way through the elevator to hoist me up. Yngrid's room was in 21st floor and this building has 30 floors. My phone beeped and it was Mom's text asking if she've dozed off already and i sent a thumbs up to her. 

The elevator dinged and opened before me. I climbed the stairs on my right and i opened the door. The rushing wind of 10:47 pm is enough to give me chills. I hugged myself even I'm wearing a hoodie. 

The hazy orange post light spread in an odd way maybe because it has been used for many years. I spread my gaze and adjusted my sight to the darkness and i saw something err, is that a person walking above the wall? The wall's probably waist-length from the floor  relatively. I don't know how thick the wall is but the hair on my neck stood and i run towards the motion. I have a feeling the person raised its head to glance at me then i grabbed her clothes. 

"What the fuck, dick-hole?!" She shouted at me and we stumbled on the rough floor with her above me. I can tell she's really mad even I can't see her in this darkness. But her fruity scent seemed to intoxicate me. 

She stood and frowned at my existence. I got up and i heard my back cracked. I can see her now. She tied her hair in messy bun that's why i can't address a noun for her earlier.

"Speak you motherfucking idiot. Oh my god why do somebody like you just existed. You make me hate your kind even more." She's so infuriated and made a face palm many times. Her knee-high hospital gown was crumpled because she's been balling her fist. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt your suicidal attempt but that's my first action to take after seeing you floating in there." I said trying to stand my point because her madness shook the shit out of me. 

"Go mind your own business. Can you just go and fuck yourself and just die." She said kicking the empty canned beer off the wall. 

"You know what i don't know what you're going through but i can't tolerate something like this. I have a sister suffering and seeing you like that? And act like it's nothing? I'm sorry but if saving someone means their hatred then go pick a voodoo doll for me." I said. 

She glared at me as she pursed her lip. 

"You cant save everybody. Go save your sister. And if you're feeling compassionate, fuck off. Make a room of exception for me. Oh my god can you just go." She said turning her back at me and stared at the city lights.

I can't do anything to save my sister if ever. I can't drag her off from jumping the building. I can't grab her a bottle of painkillers from drinking. Everything's in the hands of her surgeon. Maybe that's why seeing an opportunity to help this way rushed in me. 

"I can't save my sister on my own. That's why seeing you in there gave me the guts to." 

I followed her. I can see more of her now. The freckles under her eyes danced with the dots of reflected city lights. Her deep sunken eyes are almond-sized. She has a small face. Her wrists are full of lines. Scarred lines. Some are fresh because the blood's still there. 

"I might stab your eye right now can you just stop staring. I have the right to tell you to go fuck off because i came here first." She said after rolling her eyes. She untied her bun and her long wavy hair hangs on her shoulder and she immediately covered her neck. It's too late because i saw her scratches in there. 

I sighed. I spread my sight and found my sister's shawl and grabbed it. 

"I came for this." I said and waved it in front of her. 

She just glanced my way and didn't replied. 

"I'm all ears." I said. 

"Are you stupid enough to not understand everything now?" 

"Maybe i am. But hear this, have you gone to Verona? You should write to Juliet first. How about Paris? Have your padlock there first and if you really want to die, throw the keys on the sea. Jump off the cliffs in Norway, I'm sure it's a to-go place for everyone like you. I'm not saying it'll save you, it's just a recommendation."

You stared at me. I smiled. The smile i always give my sister after she wakes up every morning. Her frown has worn off now. There's only a blank expression in there. I don't know what's scary. The pain or the emptiness. 

I turned my back and walked away from her. As I'm about to descend, i peered at your way and you're still fixed on the city lights. I smiled. "Until then, i hope to see you soon," i blurted though i don't know if she heard me. 

-

I woke up one morning and it's been seven months since Yngrid survived the operation. I drowsily walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth when Mom screamed my name downstairs. 

"There's a mail for you, Drew! Be downstairs now!" I jolted. Who would send me a mail when there's an electronic for that? I hesitated brushing my teeth and hurried downstairs. 

"Where's the mail, Muuuum?!"

She pointed at the table and i grabbed it. It displays "From The Girl You Saved That Night" with the address "Juneau, Alaska".

My blood runs cold. 

-- Johna Latiban, "she didn't yeeted" 

//photo from Pinterest//