#i hate these nights where i dont flop down and fall asleep in a few minutes

[kidfoundonstreets]

i cnat sleep.

[watery-melon-baller]

3, 7, and 40 for weekend and belos'

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

ooooh theres so many i would never touch. the first one that comes to mind is accidental pregnancy which like. i dont even write romance much. also hate student/teacher. uhh nonromance id go with. uh. i cannot think of anything rn lmao

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

ooooh id have to go with a snippet from a shera fic i did a while back. torn between two but ill go with the shorter one just because. not sure what counts as a snippet oops.

"Adora rolls her eyes, but stands up to join them. As she runs over, she knows that she’ll trip over her dress several times, and their clothes will all be covered in grass stains that will take forever to wash out. But Adora is here, in a future where there is no war to fight, where they can laugh freely and love and she doesn't feel selfish anymore for wanting a happy ending."

bad at explaining myself but like. its the potential of a happy ending, of not everything being perfect but it good, and thats worth living for. its a whole metaphor about feminity and wartime and accepting yourself. that its okay to be safe now, its okay to be soft and vulnerable and to start healing. apologies for being incoherent

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

ohohohohhohho you know whats funny. i actually did have an alternate ending planned where hunter just. slept through the rebelllion and just woke up after it was over and was like "what the fuck." anyways i sat down and wrote this in a night (ive been saving the ask until it was finished so thats why im answering it late sorry!) so enjoy 2k words of that under the cut. apologies for typos i tried my best to read this over lmao. you can also read this on ao3 now yipee

Hunter stared at his clock, and scowled. Shit. He had 20 minutes until the coven head meeting!

He stood up, quickly scrambling for his notes.  He wanted to try and get there early, so he could figure out somewhat of a plan.

Flapjack lifted their head up, disrupted from their slumber. What is boy doing?

His foot slipped on a piece of paper, and he barely managed to catch himself on the edge of his desk. “I have a meeting! I need to go talk to the other coven heads, and-”

Have time! Should rest!

He scowled. “Flapjack, I don’t have time to rest! I need to prepare my notes! I still haven’t figure out what I’m going to say to Terra, or Adrian, or how to deal with the recent riots-”

Nap time! Boy too tired to think!

“You always say it’s nap time.”

Because boy is always tired!

He sighed, flopping back on his bed and letting the stack of papers in his arms scatter onto the floor. Flapjack did have a bit of a point. He had been staying up later and later, getting less sleep in favor of trying to take care of… well, everything.

He could get ready in ten minutes. It wouldn’t take long to teleport. Just closing his eyes for a few minutes surely wouldn’t hurt. And he wouldn’t actually fall asleep. He would just lay here!

“Just ten minutes. Then I have to go.”

Flapjack chirped. Nap! Nap!

“Not a nap, Flap,” He mumbled. “M just resting my eyes.”

He didn’t even realize he was falling asleep.

___

He woke up to the smell of smoke.

He shot up out of bed, head swiveling as he took stock of the room. Everything seemed to be in order, except-

“FLAPJACK!”

The bird had at some point moved inside his shirt. They peeked their head out, looking adorable as always, but Hunter wasn’t fooled.

He glared at them. “I said ten minutes.”

Boy needed nap!

He pointed at the window. “IT’S DARK OUTSIDE NOW! IT’S NIGHTTIME!”

Not that late. Sun just set. More like evening!

He dragged a hand down his face and groaned. “Flapjack. I missed the coven head meeting. The one thing I cannot, under any circumstances, miss.”

Flapjack did not look even remotely apologetic.

Hunter sighed, standing up and brushing back his hair. The smell of smoke was still lingering in the air, and he poked his head out the window, following the smell.

Ah. That might be a problem.

The area of the castle where Terra and Adrian had been fighting the other day looked even worse than before, mainly because it was on fire. Several scouts were running around in a panic, and if he listened closely, he could hear the faint sound of screaming.

Flapjack had moved to sit on his desk, and he slowly turned to glare at them. “Flapjack.”

They chirped.

“This is why we don’t skip coven head meetings! Look at what happened while I was asleep. The castle is on fire!” He sighed. 

Could be worse!

He flung his arms out, staring the bird down in frustration. “How could this be worse?!”

The Titan must have thought that was funny, because at that moment his door was slammed open with a war cry.

“GOLDEN GUARD!”

Something (someone?) charged through his door, and he screeched, barely avoiding their tackle. Whoever it was slammed into his wall, sending feathers flying everywhere. Why there were feathers, he didn’t know. Maybe they were because of the large wings that were almost smacking him in the face. 

Flapjack screeched, dive bombing the intruder, and Hunter quickly scrambled back, grabbing a heavy textbook detailing the criminal justice system and hurling it at their face. They shouted in pain, falling back onto the floor, and Hunter decided that was his cue to go.

He skidded out into the hallway, his slippers barely staying on his feet, while Flapjack circled nervously around his head. Behind him, he could hear the sound of the mystery attacker getting up, and he risked a glimpse behind him as Flapjack transformed into a staff.

“Golden Guard, kid, wait a second-”

Their voice sounded somewhat familiar, but he was too busy grabbing his staff. The last thing he saw before teleporting away into a haze of golden light was what looked to be some kind of harpy woman, heading straight for him.

He bounced across the castle, not having much of a destination in mind besides something that was away from the harpy lady. He materialized in a small room with dim lighting, and as he leaned against the brick walls he realized he was in the break room.

There were technically several break rooms scattered around the castle, but those were all empty storage closets scouts had converted into a break room in their free time with their own money. (Hunter may or may not have contributed to them with money from the castle treasury). This, however, was the official break room, the one all the coven heads used, and the one that the Emperor made somewhat of an attempt to maintain.

He hadn’t been here in a couple weeks, with the whole “accidentally killed my Uncle and now running the government from my bedroom” issue. Not much had changed since the last time he was here. The table was still stained, one of the chairs still had a wobbly leg, the sink was still dripping water because no one knew how to fix the leak, there were still a few spare coven cloaks lying in a pile on the floor, and the fridge still had several post-its about labeling your food properly and not letting it sit in the fridge for months and stink up the room.

The bulletin board, however, had a few changes. The ‘days since Kikimora tried to assassinate someone’ board had been reduced back to zero (last time he saw it it was at 11, which was a new record), and there were several notes stating that due to being understaffed, everyone would be getting extra shifts. Which was weird, because Hunter thought he was in charge of scheduling guard shifts, but he had handed off so many of his duties to Kikimora and random coven captains that he wasn’t sure anymore. Also, why had no one told him they were understaffed?

Someone had also brought in cookies, and there were still a few left. Yay! He grabbed one from the box, biting into it. 

“Want a piece? Its chocolate cricket flavor.” He broke off a small chunk, offering it to the palisman, who began gleefully pecking it. He finished eating the rest of the cookie, wandering over to the sink.

He smacked the faucet, hoping that maybe this time it would stop the leaking, but it did nothing. Like it did every time. He sighed, and turned towards the clawfee machine, turning it on. Next to the sink was a small collection of drying dishes, one of which included a mug that said ‘world’s best nephew’ in hot pink script.

“Hey Flapjack, I found my favorite mug!” He picked it up, thankfully finding it clean. He had been searching for that mug for weeks! Although, it seemed a bit inaccurate, with the whole ‘killed my uncle’ and ‘being a grimwalker of his brother’ thing. Nope, that was a problem for another time.

He shrugged, watching as the clawfee pot came to a boil. Flapjack was hopping around the table, pecking the various crumbs that had been left behind. Hunter should probably be stopping them, but he figured if Flapjack had survived this long with such little self preservation, they would probably be fine.

Probably.

He poured the clawfee into his mug, and moved to sit down in a chair. The good chair, not the one with the wobbly leg that made you rock back and forth every time you moved the slightest inch. 

He sighed, leaned back in his chair, and stared vacantly at the wall. “So,” he said calmly. “I think there might be a rebellion going on right now.”

Flapjack chirped anxiously. Hunter stared at the bird. “You know, this is why we don’t skip coven head meetings.”

He sipped on his clawfee, savoring the bitter taste. Oh, sweet caffeine, how he missed it. Having energy was fantastic.

“I should probably go out there and deal with that.”

Or don’t! Don’t risk yourself!

“Flapjack, I don’t think that's an option.”

Run away to woods! Can hunt for worms!

“I can’t eat worms! You can hunt all you want, I’ll forage for berries.”

Good plan!

Hunter groaned. “Terrible plan.” It wasn't like he had any ideas. He had been slowly preparing a runaway bag, but he had hoped he would have a few more weeks before he had to use it. This was his punishment for procrastinating. 

He stood up, taking a long swig of the coffee. “Okay, my stuff is in my room. Let’s see if we can try to sneak back there, and if anyone is still alive.” He looked down at himself, grimacing at his lack of armor. He was still in his PJS! 

Hesitantly, he lifted one of the coven scout cloaks from the pile on the floor, checking it over. There didn’t appear to be any visible stains, so he shrugged, putting it on.

Flapjack chirped, and fluttered on top of his head. Hunter sighed, but said nothing, pulling up his hood to cover the bird. He opened the door and hesitantly peeked his head out. There didn’t seem to be anyone, so he stepped out into the hallway, letting the door shut behind him.

Picking a random direction, he began walking, the only sound being his bunny slippers slapping against the tile. He nervously clutched his cloak, suddenly beginning to regret every decision he had ever made that had led him to this situation.

He rounded a corner to see a hallway that looked very much destroyed. A section of the ceiling had collapsed, and plants and abomination goo was everywhere. Several coven scouts were lying unconscious on the floor.

Hunter bit his lip, and with a start realized he was still holding his mug. There was still a little bit of clawfee in it, so he could throw it at someone and run if he needed to. The perfect weapon. What a plan.

He froze at the sound of footsteps, frantically looking for a place to hide. He slid behind a pile of rubble, hoping that he would just be mistaken for an unconscious scout.

The sound of footsteps grew closer, and then stopped. “I could have sworn I heard something over here,” a familiar voice muttered. Oh shit.

Hunter involuntarily flinched, shifting the rubble he was hiding behind with his movement.

“Over there!” Oh, he recognized that voice too, although it was only marginally better than the first one. Maybe if he stayed very very still, they wouldn’t notice him?

He yelped as abomination goo wrapped around his legs, dragging him out into the open and pinning his arms to his side. He scowled at the awkward angle his arm was held at, the clawfee slowly dripping out of his mug and onto the floor.

Darius crossed his arms, lifting an eyebrow at Hunter. “Ah, Little prince. You’re looking… unwell.”

Hunter, very maturely, stuck out his tongue, something that only caused Darius’s scowl to deepen.

Behind Darius, Luz cheerfully waved at him. “Hi Hunter! You kind of caught us at a bad time.” She turned down the hallway, cupping a hand to her mouth. “HEY GUYS, WE FOUND HUNTER! OVER HERE!” 

Darius winced at her yelling, rubbing his ears. Hunter wished he could do the same, because wow Luz could shout loud.

The two of them turned back to face him and he grimaced. “Uh, hi?” He said awkwardly. Maybe they would be nice and just kill him right away. Luz could probably convince them not to hurt Flapjack.

Luz shoved her hands in her pockets, grinning casually. “Hunter, my man! I’ve been looking for you! Sorry about the whole, uh, overthrowing the government thing.”

‘It’s fine,” He said, even though it was very much not fine. “It was already falling apart anyways.”

Darius stepped towards him, frowning. “About that, actually. We have quite a few questions to ask you, Golden Guard.”

Luz’s grin became just a bit more shaky. “Not bad questions! Just, uh, questions. It’ll be great!” She did not sound convinced of her own words. “It’s fine.”

Hunter sighed. He should have just stayed in bed. This was all Flapjack’s fault. He was never trusting that adorable little bird again, no matter how cute they were.

[nolongerironicteenwrites]

three years pt 2

read it here or on my Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/nolongerironicteen/works or read my other works too 

You put your car in park and sighed. Finally, you were home after longer than you wanted to admit. But you were happy nonetheless. Which meant you were finally going to address the elephant in the room with Neji. Instead of texting till three am you could finally discuss what you were. You looked at your parents' house in front of you as you got out of the car.

    “(Y/N)!” your mom called from the open kitchen window.

You smiled wide and you trekked up the driveway. The house was quiet save your mom’s washing in the kitchen. You found your way in there and gave her a huge hug.

    “Where’s dad?”

    “In the backyard, he’s doing some gardening and collecting the vegetables for me. You can go see.”

You figured unpacking your car can wait for later. You wanted to go see your dad. You kissed your mom on the cheek before going outside. You were thrown through a loop to not see your dad, but see your friends all there.

    “Welcome home!” they shouted.

You doubled back smiling before rushing to hug them all. You were overwhelmed. You might have only seen them like two weeks ago you were happy to be home. Even if it was only a little while.

    “We missed you.” Naruto laughed pulling you in for another hug.

    “We saw her like a week ago?” Sai replied, confused.

You ruffled Sai’s hair when a set of arms wrapped around your middle. You tensed up before smelling the familiar smell of cigarettes.

    “Traitor.”

    “For?” Shikamaru asked.

    “Dating my keyboard player. Smoking. Or where you spending time with Azuma seeing your godchild?”

    “The latter.”

You rolled your eyes and he let you go but not without rubbing his cheek to yours and pulling away. You huffed and backed away. You didn’t get far before bumping into something cold. A set of hands-on the back of your elbows.

    “You got a tattoo?”

Neji.

You spun around and checked out the inside of your elbow blushing.

    “I uh yeah. I have four actually.”

He looked impressed. Not deterred, he grabbed your arm and saw the grl pwr tattoo on the inside of your elbow. You and Temari have matching ones since you two were two women who basically front a band. You have three others. You have a paper airplane on the back of your shoulder, a galaxy piece on your side, and on your thigh, there was a storm cloud that under a UV or blacklight made the lighting bolt shine. Neji smiled at you. You heard someone gag behind you. You had the vaguest feeling it was Kiba. You turned around and pulled your eye and stuck your tongue at him. He hugged you and you laughed.

You spent the afternoon with your friends and parents until you were nearly falling asleep where you sat. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you let yourself relax against Neji. The night grew colder and the party moved inside. It quickly became a quiet night after that, movies and drinks and crashing on the couch. Well you crashed on the couch everyone else went home to Shikamaru’s to get their car or ride home. Neji once everyone was ready to go brought you to your bedroom and kissed you goodnight before leaving.

    “Are you going to ask her?” Lee asked.

    “Ask her what?” Sai asked guiding Ino to Shikamaru’s.

     “Ask (Y/N) out properly.”

Neji glared at Lee and pulled his jacket closed. He ignored the question which Shikamaru didn’t like. He imposed himself over Neji but Neji was just slightly, only slightly taller. Shikamaru crossed his arms and glared. Which in itself is nerve-inducing.

    “Well, Neji what are your plans with my best friend?”

    “If you must know, I like her. Clearly. So I wish to ask her out.”

    “Hurt her and your ass is mine.”

    “I don’t like you like that at all but I would never, I’m not Koma.”

Shikamaru gave one glare and then nodded. Neji waisted until he looked away to silently release his breath.

    “There’s your answer Lee. Be safe getting back you guys text the group when you all make it back home.” Shikamaru waved before going inside.

Neji gathered Hinata, Naruto, Lee, and TenTen and headed to everyone’s respective homes. He and Lee lived together, Hinata and Naruto lived together, and TenTen lived in the same building at Neji and Lee. Neji didn’t let anyone talk on the car ride back. He didn’t wish to speak about his love life with anyone anymore. Once in the comfort of his own apartment he let his hair down and groaned.

    “Neji- I’m sorry. You guys were just so cozy.”

    “Lee I’m not upset with you. I mean you were just speaking about what you saw.” Neji replied while pulling off his jacket. “She’s back for a year while some of her bandmates finish school. I have time but no time when I can’t even talk to her about my feelings!” Neji flopped onto the sofa neglecting to take off his shoes.

    “You could talk maybe Guy and Kakashi-sensei.” Lee sat by him.

Neji didn’t hate that idea. It would have been better than talking to his own father. Not that he didn’t want to, but he didn’t think his dad could help. His mom made the first move on his dad. But with Guy-sensei it was an accident with him and Kakashi but probably better advice than his father so maybe Lee was onto something there.

       menace to sobriety

the boulder

    Neji and I are home.

tippy

    As am I.

eyes

    Naruto and me too.

glasses

    Kiba is drunk on the floor of his house crying to Akimaru about the boy in facepaint?

fur culture

    traitor!

pencil ****

    Ino and Sakura are trying to dye their hair.

*eye roll*

    They’re getting along?

pencil ***

    sauske isn’t here to fight over. i'm on watch duty..

omnipotent friend

    dont let them make bad choices they’ll regret in like 5 minutes.

*eye roll*

     or you could.

omnipotent friend

    ill remove you

*eye roll*

    not ur chat

        fur culture changed the admin to omnipotent friend

*eye roll*

    im in danger

The chat died down after that and you fell back asleep. Neji laughed. This chat has bounced admin to admin and the nicknames change often enough to keep anyone entertained. Neji himself got ready for bed. Rock Lee stayed up a bit longer than him to do some work for his up-and-coming school week. He was student teaching this week.

The next morning everyone woke to a few changes in the group chat. You changed a few nicknames and the title

       the void calls me forth

gremlin

    (y/n)! how dare you call me a gremlin.

void keeper

    bc im not kiba and you will not bully me

pretty boy

    im pretty?

sai-duck

    i like this more.

fur culture

    I deserve this honestly. All though these were good changes. neji is pretty, sai clever pun and shikamaru deserved it. you should have been this admin from the start

whoji

    we told you that from the start, and two she came up with half the original nicknames

the boulder

    teenagers scare me.

You snorted and walked down the stairs. Kiba just accepted his fate. It was almost perfect. Your mom left you a note about her plans for the day. Your father was there for the day but he was engrossed in work. You ate something quickly and popped your head in to say hello to him. He waved at you and went about your day.

n. hyuuga

    Good morning. Can you meet me at The Blossom for coffee?

you

    sure. totally. see you in ten?

n. hyuuga

    Yes. Of course. Cannot wait.

You smiled to yourself walking down the stairs. Your mom was gone for the day. You could hear the television on. You popped your head in to see your dad watching a show about rocks. You smiled while he just read in his rocker the noise in the background. You leaned on the frame waiting for him to notice you. It takes him a moment before he looks up from his book and he smiles.

    “What’s up buttercup?”

    “I’m going to get coffee, do you need anything while I’m out?”

He shakes his head no.

    “Go have fun. I’ll see you later.”

You smiled and blew him a kiss. Walking into the kitchen you grabbed your jacket and purse off the coat rack. You slipped your phone into your jacket pocket and started on your walk. The great thing is The Blossom was a five-minute walk from your house. The walk, while short, gave you time to reflect. You thought about Neji. You probably always liked him, it went through phases where you liked him more than a friend, but then Koma happened. That six months of your life where Neji didn’t cross your mind. But now it all seems to be falling into place.

As you approached the cafe, Neji was already there. He looked beautifully aloof. You quietly walked up to him while he scrolled on his phone. His light skin contrasting against his dark hair and the bright red t-shirt and checkered pants to match. You honestly were a mixture of both impressed and intimidated by him. He always looked like he had his life together. You looked down at yourself and how you were dressed. You layered tights under overalls with a baggy sweater on top. You felt like you weren’t dressed well enough to compete with him. He looked up at you and smiled. He gently pulled you to him and kissed your forehead. You weren’t sure what you two were but you were content.

    “This is my treat, come on.”  He smiled opening the door for you, “I picked this place because no one would come here or neither do I think our friends care enough to find us. This place has chai lattes and oat milk which I know are your favorites.”

You smiled, cheeks becoming redder.

    “You remembered?”

    “Of course,” he responded. It’s because I love you. But he didn’t let her know that.

You held onto the crook of his elbow whilst he ordered. He ended up ordering for both of you while you had a small smile on your features. He ordered the chai latte for you and a simple London fog drink. You weren’t expecting that. As if he read your mind.

    “I had a small cup of coffee before I decided to ask you out. Do you want anything else?” he asked.

    “Do you want to split a coffee cake?”

Neji nodded. His eyes lit up like you hung the stars in the sky. You felt very on par with Neji, finally. You and he walked over to a table situated in the corner by the window. It was a kind of chilly morning for how early in September that it was. You rested your head on your hand looking between him and the window before you asked.

    “Don’t you work on Monday? Like a new startup position at a family-owned accounting firm?” You asked, smirking.

Neji smiled at your question crossing his legs and leaning over to rest his head on his hands, thinking for a moment to formulate an answer for you.

    “Yes but technically no. My days got changed because I’m going back to school for my masters so my uncle has me working sparingly.”

    “Your masters? That’s great!” you smiled excitedly.

He looked very bemusingly at you. He offered a hand to you to hold across the table. The two of you shared the cake and drinks in silence. No need to talk currently. The two of you spoke sparingly and worked on individual projects. You worked on songs and he worked on some classwork.

    “Neji. What are we?” you asked.

The keyboard clicking stopped. You felt your body tense. Had you pushed a boundary? He was hesitating and you were getting progressively more anxious. He started wringing his hands, but you quietly waited for him to answer you. Seconds felt like hours to you waiting.

    “I-I knew this was coming but I-” He sighed softly, “I was just trying to feel out how you felt before I spoke to you about me.” Neji explained, “(Y/N) I have liked you probably since I was fifteen. But our lives never seemed to line up. Call it destiny if you will always seem to escape me. I dated, you dated. I got scared of my feelings for you but not anymore I can’t. I don’t want to. I- I want to take care of you, and be with you and support you.” He ended up just muttering to himself.

Your heart clenched watching him. You smiled that he was being honest with you. Even though he was avoiding your eye contact. You reached out to grab his hand to get his attention. He slowly let you coax his hand into yours while you figured out how to respond.

    “Thank you, Neji for being honest with me. I know how you feel. You bore your feelings to me for how you feel. I accept your feelings.” you replied, smiling. “And I- I would love nothing more than this to work out. It would need work. Between music and you being in school again it won’t be easy, and I’m sorry for that. I wish I can be more for you.”

    “You’re perfect enough.” He brought your hand to his lips to kiss. “You are worth the work.”

Kiba was passing by when he stopped and did a double-take. He was convinced that he saw you and Neji but he wasn’t sure.

       the void calls me forth

fur culture

    r (y/n) and neji on a date?

ino-yeet-chi

    why would that be ur concern if they were kiba?

fur culture

    b/c im not being left out of this revelation once it happens like i was when lee came out. also i see them..

Kiba was squinting at the frosted glass window. Neither you nor Neji knew what was going on in that chat; both of you had your phones picked up. Kiba needed to know so he quietly snuck into the cafe and to a booth on the other side of the store from you two. Not that you would have noticed, either way, you and Neji were in your own little world. It looked like a date to Kiba.

       the void calls me forth

ino-yeet-chi

    KIBA NO. LEAVE THEM ALONE. SHINO GET YOUR BOY

        glasses has left the chat

Neji laughed to himself at something you said. He then leaned in to grasp your chin to press a soft kiss to your mouth. Not wanting to push you. Kiba could hardly believe it. He got up and slipped into the bathroom.

       the void calls me forth

fur culture

    Holy- DUDE

You felt your phone vibrate and Neji felt his too. You both grabbed your phones and checked the messages. His eyes shot up and scanned for Kiba keenly aware. You were confused. You also looked over the messages and glared.

    “He’s here somewhere.” you groaned.

Neji pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at you almost apologetically.

    “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. You grabbed his back and yours and pulled him from the cafe.

    “Don’t be sorry. I know where we can go where no one will find us.”

You and Neji dipped through the streets. He allowed himself to be pulled by you while you brought him to a home. He didn’t recognize this house. You explained it was your grandfather’s home, but he wasn’t home. You had a treehouse in the backyard that you wanted to show him. He was surprised to see this.

    “Whoa.”

    “I know.”

You climbed up the rope ladder and Neji followed closely as you went up. Inside the treehouse, it looked older but sometimes you still come up to be alone or to play music. Neji stood hunched because it was made for you who had never been very tall. He looked around and smiled.

    “Finally.” he groaned.

He grabbed your face softly and kissed you properly. You gasped quietly and he kept one hand on your face and the other on your waist to make sure this was real. You both needed air eventually and he actually started to giggle. You laughed and the two of you spent the afternoon in the early fall air laughing, stealing kisses, and being in each other's presence.

[probably-writing-x]

Admittance pt.9

Guzmán x Reader

Gif is not my own

Requests are closed🤍

Just as Guzmán had promised, you found yourself returning to school with the idea that you’d actually be graduating. They’d make sure you had a strong grade average by the time you had to leave for maternity, and they’d give you extra exams in that time to make up for the finals you’d be missing. It wasn’t perfect or conventional but you’d make it work - which was generally the motto for anything you did recently.

You now found yourself with another weekend off, though this one not running as smoothly as the others. Omar and Ander had been arguing and were now basically not talking to each other as Omar had gone to stay with Rebe for a few days. It had started over Ander getting annoyed at his boyfriend for not keeping up with school work and had spiralled ever since then.

“Still nothing?” Guzmán walks in through to the bedroom where you were sat watching Ander outside through your window.

He’d been out on his balcony for over an hour, phone in his hand like he was waiting to call Omar but still not finding the courage to do so.

“Nope,” You sigh, resting a hand on your bump, “I’m sure he dialled the number at one point but nothing more than that.”

“Shit man, how long will this go on for?”

“Well last time it lasted about a day because Omar realised he’d left his charger here so he had to come back. And as soon as they saw each other they were fine,” You explain as Guzmán flops onto the bed beside you, handing you a drink he’d collected from the kitchen along with your lunch.

“A day?” He raises his brows, “It’s already been three.”

“Exactly,” You sigh, “This is the worst it’s been in a long while. They’ve been fine since the start of the school year, since Ander went into remission.”

Guzmán sighs and takes a forkful of his food, “Come on, eat your food.”

“I swear I’m losing interest in everything,” You sigh, pushing around the pasta on your plate with disinterest.

“Well what do you fancy instead? And don’t say pickles because I can’t stand the smell anymore.”

“It’s cravings, I used to hate them too,” You laugh, “Don’t blame me, blame the baby.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, glancing back to the window, “Oh shit he’s pacing again.”

You felt like nosey neighbours watching your brother like this but it had made for good viewing for you and Guzmán as you watched him. You’d been keeping as updated as you could about the situation but Ander refused to talk about it at all.

“Come on, eat your food,” Guzmán nudges you again, “And I’ll make sure you get some more pickles at the shop if you do.”

You grin at him and take a forkful of the pasta dish he’d made for both of you.

He cocks a brow, “Not so bad is it?”

- - - - - -

It’s later in the day when Ander finally comes back inside, as the sun is setting and he’d moved to instead pace around the garden, and he’s got a face on him like he’s willing to murder a man. He storms straight past where you and Guzmán are sat in the lounge and walks straight upstairs to his room.

“Honey we’re going to have to do something,” Guzmán sighs.

“Honey?” You raise your brows, “We’re using pet names now? Wow, that’s a big step.”

He deadpans at your sarcasm, trying to hide the embarrassment on his cheeks, “It just slipped out, okay? Did you really need to bring it up?”

“Alright, darling,” You wiggle your brows, “But you’re right, I’m going to go and speak to Ander. There’s only so annoyed he can get at a pregnant woman.”

“Oh god good luck,” Guzmán laughs, walking over and kissing you quickly, “Shout if you need help.”

You head upstairs into your brother’s bedroom and find him laying face down on his bed, his phone still by his side. You walk over and lay down on the other side of the bed, your head on the end where his feet were as you stare up at the ceiling. You’d always done this when you were kids and it had stuck ever since then.

“He still hasn’t spoken to me (Y/n),” Ander begins after some time, seeming weak in his words, “It’s been three days.”

“He’ll come around, maybe you should try calling him first. Or going round there.”

He groans and turns over so he’s facing the ceiling too, “But I still agree with what I said. I think he needs to try harder in school, I don’t want him to fail again and not graduate.”

“I get that Ander, and you’re just looking out for him,” You encourage, “But you need to see it from his perspective. For the first time in his life, he’s genuinely happy. He’s got you, and you’re living together. He’s doing well in school, things aren’t so bad with his parents, and it’s like he’s found his chosen family. Maybe he just wants to enjoy that, and not spend every day focused on school.”

“I spoke to him about Malick too, I shouldn’t have brought it up but I was annoyed and I-“ He stops himself and sighs, pushing himself to sit up in the bed.

“Okay, well I don’t think that was a good idea. But it’s not something you can’t work past, when haven’t you two worked past your problems?”

He looks down at his lap and fiddles with the hem of his T-shirt as you wobble a little and manage to sit up too.

“I really thought I’d lost him before he went to New York. I was so sure he wouldn’t come back. This is the first time we’ve argued since then, and I guess I’m just terrified that this will be what pushes him away again.”

“Then I shouldn’t be the one you’re fucking saying that to!” You exclaim and throw a cushion at him, “God, one of us clearly got all of the brains in the family!”

He smiles but it doesn’t fully meet his eyes like it managed to whenever he was looking at Omar, “What should I do?”

“I think I have an idea...”

- - - - - -

“Do you really think it’s a good idea for you to be going to a club (Y/n)?” Guzmán asks once again as you, him and Ander get out of the taxi.

“The vip area is hardly a club, and there’ll barely be anyone there, and I’m not planning on drinking. If it’s bad, I can sit down. Stop being so protective,” You ruffle his hair and head inside, “Do I need to repeat myself again?”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea (Y/n),” Ander slows down as you’re nearing the doors.

“Don’t bail on me now brother,” You shake your head, grabbing his arm as you pull him inside, “Omar’s working the upstairs bar, and his shift finishes in five minutes. Meaning you need to be there to meet him in approximately four minutes. So, get your ass upstairs and follow every step of the plan.”

Guzmán settles a hand on your back as all three of you go to walk upstairs. The bouncer gives you an odd look as he notices your bump but Guzmán gives him a harsh enough glare to mean he won’t question it. There are a few people from your year already scattered around the vip area of the club but your eyes instantly go to Omar as you can see him getting ready to finish his shift.

You watch Ander walk over as Omar gives him that look that tells him he didn’t want to argue here. But instead of arguing, you see him accept your brothers offer to go downstairs and dance in the club just as they had done before, when they’d first properly confirmed that they wanted to be together. You walk over to the window and watch them head downstairs, seeing the bright smile spread onto Ander’s face as soon as he his face to face with Omar.

“I believe my job here is done,” You mumble, watching as Guzmán comes up beside you.

“Does that mean we can go home?” He cocks a brow.

You turn to face him, settling your hands on your swollen belly, “Do I not look fit for a club?”

He chuckles and it creates the creases beside his eyes so distinctively, “Not exactly. I think it’s the bump that really does it.”

You smile, “We can go if you want to. I just thought maybe you’d want to actually spend some time in a club, when was the last time you went to a party?”

“I don’t want to go to parties,” He defends instantly.

“Come on Guzmán. You spend every evening with me, dont you miss just going out and drinking with your friends?”

“Don’t you?”

“That’s different,” You roll your eyes, “I can’t do any of that, you still can.”

“For as long as you can���t, I won’t,” He shrugs, “Is that a problem?”

He reaches out his hands and holds both of yours, lacing your fingers together. There’s only so close you can stand now that your bump was between you but that small contact is just as much.

“It can’t be easy for you Guzmán,” You sigh, “A lot has changed in the past months, I don’t want you to feel like you have nothing left of your old life. You still can do. And it’s not easy to-“

“Everything is easy when it comes to you,” He interjects.

You scoff, trying to hide your blush whilst his eyes were so intently focused on you.

“You’ve given me a purpose (Y/n), that goes beyond being popular or keeping up a reputation. I have a reason to want to be something. And if that means I spend seven nights a week sat at home with you, talking about birthing methods, or watching films about being parents, or falling asleep before ten pm - I don’t care. In fact, I fucking love it!”

You giggle, “You make us sound like such an old couple!”

“Maybe so,” He nods, fighting back his own bright grin, “But I’ll take that any day.”

“Are you sure about that?”

He lifts your hands up and kisses one of them softly, “Lets get out of here.”

- - - - - -

Rightly so, that night you and Guzmán head back home and fall asleep before midnight hits. You’re wearing a T-shirt that you’ve worn for the past three days in a row and he’s snoring before you’re even asleep. The next morning, you wake up as you hear clattering in the kitchen and groan as you try to push yourself out of bed.

“What’s going on?” You sigh, rubbing your eyes to try to wake yourself up.

Ander and Omar look at you with guilty expressions.

“We’ve only just got in,” Ander smirks, “We were going to make some food.”

“You’ve just got home? Ander it’s like seven in the morning!”

Omar laughs, “We got lost and decided to walk home! It sobered us up though so we’re not doing bad.”

“Sober?” You scoff, becoming practically intoxicated yourself by the alcohol fumes coming off them, “Go into the lounge, I’ll make you some breakfast.”

They’re a mess of half-drunk giggles as they stumble with each other back to the couch in the lounge. They’re basically all over each other, a lot more PDA than they would ever be sober. But it warms your heart to see it, no longer fearful of Ander’s foul moods. Somehow, whenever things were fine with Omar, everything seemed to be fine in Anders life.

You go about making them some tea and toast to try to sober them up at least a little bit but when you walk into the lounge, they’re both flat out asleep on the sofa. You set down the food and head back upstairs with your own food to find Guzmán now awake in bed.

“Where did you go?” He frowns, poking open one eye to look at you.

“Ander and Omar just got home, looks like they had a good night,” You chuckle, carrying over the plate of toast and mug of tea.

“You made me breakfast?” Guzmán raises his brows, “What did I do to deserve this?”

You laugh and sit back down onto the bed next to him. His hair is messy from always moving in his sleep, and his eyes are puffy as they always were when he just woke up, and his voice still hasn’t reset back to normal tone, and he’s getting the shadows of stubble from where he was overdue a shave. And in every way it looks like you’re looking at yourselves as a married couple. You didn’t have that young spark that Ander and Omar had because yours and Guzman’s relationship had been built on completely different foundations. But somehow it worked somewhat perfectly for both of you.

He takes a bite of the buttery toast and opens an arm for you to lean into him as you take another piece from the plate.

Maybe he was right to say that you didn’t need the fancy nights out like Omar and Ander had. You didn’t need to be rolling into the house at 6am with enough alcohol in your system to last all day. You’d learnt pretty quickly that you wouldn’t have that for a long time. When your daughter was born, and this pregnancy was over, you wouldn’t have that again then. Instead, you’d be bringing a life into the world. You’d have commitments and responsibilities and the horror of feeling like you were doing everything wrong. At age 18, that seemed terrifying. But somehow manageable if you were doing it together.

“What are you thinking about?” Guzmán asks tiredly, snuggling into you a little like he could close anymore space.

“We’re really boring,” You comment, “But somehow, in a good way.”

“I’ll take that any day,” Guzmán chuckles, kissing your forehead, “And life certainly won’t be boring as soon as this one comes along. It will be far from boring.”

You smile and settle your hand over your bump next to where his rested, “What do you feel like doing today?”

“How about we order in a takeaway, put on some cheesy movies, play some video games, and basically not get out of bed?”

“Ooh you really know how to spoil a girl Guzmán,” You chuckle, “That sounds perfect.”

And somewhere, amongst the chaos of pregnancy and the uncertainty of your future, you were damn thankful for the consequences it had caused. You’d found someone. Someone who’d been so hidden to you in all of the years you’d known him. And in lazy evenings, in too much takeout food, in acting like an old pair - you’d found Guzmán. Whatever the future held for the two of you, it seemed certain that it would be together.

[p1nkwitch]

Please may I have number 3? Drunk/sloppy kiss, with either jmart or lonelyeyes?

This got out of control, so forgive me, i just have this scene in the backburner of my mind for months and wanted to post it somewhere. So its soft and a little bit sad, but ultimately i love it. I hope its what you want!

Also im a lonelyeyes shipper first so if given the option i would always pick it first, sorry if you wanted the Jmart.

Maybe later i will compile all this shorts in ao3.

3- Drunk/sloppy kiss

Elias is trying his hardest to focus but it was proving to be a little bit too hard. Today was…

Well today was not a good day for him in several instances, so when he got home he decided to drink to more or less forget the day happened and just wake up the next morning with a headache, more bearable in his book than overthinking things and beholding being particularly bitchy by making it worse.

However he did manage to get significantly drunk which is why he was currently talking animatedly to Peter who was looking at him amusedly from behind the couch, since he just arrived and Elias was not up to getting up.

“sSo i was with- with OsCAR AND you would not believe what he said-” Peter hums in agreement and starts to move away, making him pout so he gets up slightly and grabs his sleeve before he escapes.

“I'm talking Peter!!” His husband? Were they married now? He can't recall, sighs and gets his hand off him, making him upset, but he goes around the couch to sit next to him and pour what's left of the scotch on a glass, taking a gulp.

“Why did you think getting drunk on a… wednesday night was a good idea?” He doesn't want to think of the reason now, so he shrugs and says what comes to mind.

“Awful day, wanted to not thiiiink about it” He sees him scrunch up his face at him, but ultimately nods, he won't pry, it would mean caring about his wellbeing too much and Peter can't bring himself to do it. Or well he does sometimes, his moral sense is a spinning wheel anyways.

Elias feels still slightly upset, but more importantly he is also mesmerized watching Peter drink and just stay close to him, what a peculiar man that he is, claiming to be lonely yet staying with him who represents everything he hates. It makes him smile.

Peter is an acolyte of the lonely yet he has his personality and is not a boring husk, he knows exactly the kind of person he is and yet he still marries him, more importantly Peter is aware that one day he could be the death of him, and Elias has the suspicion that he wouldn't even be mad at him for it. Merely annoyed at himself.

Peter Lukas would never hate him for how he is even if it brings him his doom.

Elias slides closer and leans on Peters side, with his head on his shoulder making him stiffen and yet not pull him away, he giggles at the contradictions of this man, this silly little big man that he loves. Oh.

Oh he does love him, it does not mean he won't let him go if it serves him and he would be offended if it wasn't the same way for him. But nevertheless he does.

His face burns pleasantly and he nuzzles his side a little bit. He must have mumbles something, because he hears him sigh and kiss the top of his head.

“Dead of me for sure” Elias looks up at him and he sees the surprised and flushed look he has. Silly man. Nodding he grabs his arm and pulls him until they are both lying on the couch, with him lying almost practically falling off it. His husband or not husband doesn't protest much, beyond grumbling and snorting at his feeble attempts at kissing his neck, they were sloppy as hell, but he was having fun!! It's been a while.

Its when he brushes a certain spot that Peter stiffens and laughs.

Oh?

“Elias no- don't you dar-!!!” He blows a raspberry and Peter starts laughing like crazy!!! He was ticklish that asshole told him he wasn't! He always got him and he could never get revenge not until now!!

“YES!! I KNEW YOU HAdd to be Ticklish someWhereeee” Peter wheezes and he laughs against him trying to reach the spot again, oh god he has to remember his tomorrow, he has to otherwise it would be for nothing- shit- He-

Flops to the ground with a thud.

There is silence only shaken by Peter's heavy breathing. Despite the fall he is grinning ear to ear. He sees the man peak from the couch at him with an afronted look and very flushed face.

“Are you ok?” He keeps his grin in place and laughs nodding.

“Yes!! Oh that was funnn” He sighs dreamily, it was so much fun. Peter shakes his head at him.

“Who knew being drunk got you to be so...sappy and childish, you really were holding out onto me huh?” Was he? He probably was, he really had to hold back most of the time.

“Mm” He sees Peter hand go to his face and he tilts it to the side expectantly, the man merely puts some hair out of his face and hesitatnly boops his nose. His smile turns softer. Quickly he grabs his hand and kisses his wrist softly. The man stiffens and he laughs before lifting himself up a little bit to start to kiss his way up the arm.

Peter breathing goes up and when he checks his face is completely red, not only that but he doesn't seem to know where to look. God he is so cute.

Laughing softly he keeps going, advancing like he wants, grateful he was wearing a short sleeve. Once he reaches the fabric of his clothes he jumps up directly to kissing him in the mouth, now that they were at the same height. Its good.

More importantly he feels the other unwind and reciprocate. Elias is honestly in a cloud right now, whatever was upsetting him was definitely out of mind, the feels of his sometimes husband slightly chapped lips pressed against his, his hitched breath at the whispered words that he knows makes him usually run, but not today, now now, make ti all the better and sweeter. Of course that's when the man tries to get closer and ends up rolling too much falling half on top of him. They both groan at first, but then-

Then he starts to laugh uncontrollably, Peter pouts but chuckles along before pressing his face on the crook of his neck. Far bigger than him, but always awfully cuddly when he can get away with it.

“What?” Peter shakes his head.

“You are not going to remember any of this are you?” He blinks a few times and after measuring it he has to admit he drank too much.

“Mmmmayhaps not?” A kiss to the neck.

“Good” Ah, that's why he is so sappy. Loneliness by being the only one who recalls this.

“Peter?”

“Mm?” Well if he is not going to might as well go out?

“Want to danceeee”

“No”

“Please?” Silence.

A resigned sigh.

“I hate you” Elias smiles and kisses the top of his head.

“No you dont-”

They get up and he is shakily clutching Peter who merely spins him around the room without rhyme or reason, but that in his addled mine is the closest to waltz he can manage with his coordination at hand. He spends most of it laughing and talking and occasionally just leaning up to get more kisses, that Peter obliges. Silly, silly man!!

In the end he drags him to bed and they lay down to sleep, not before his husband leaves him a cup of water and some pills for an upcoming headache in the morning. Once in bed he snuggles closer to Peter who lets him and curves himself around him.

“... It's the anniversary of Barnabas death”

“... Which one-?”

“The skull, your- Mordechai?”

“Ahh the lonely one” He stays there in warmth not as bothered by it anymore.

“Would you watch me and still let me die little pufferfish?” He scrunches up his nose and thinks, but the answer has always been the same.

“Yes… would you hate me for it?” Peter doesn't answer and he is almost asleep before he hears the answer.

“No, i dont think i could, i know how you are, it would be stupid of me to do it” It was the answer he was expecteng yet having it confirmed lifted something out from him, a small weight he wasnt expecting.

“Thank you, love you Peter”

“...You too my lovely downfall”

Elias sleeps and dreams of foggy beaches with lost rings and skulls. One day he will miss Peter just as he does for Barnabas he is sure of it.

[kashimos-hajime]

if i time it right, the thunder breaks

Summary: “And he hated himself and hated her, too, for the ruin they'd made of each other.” 

WARNINGS: swearing, it’s getting bad, mentions of (sexual, if you interpret it that way) child abuse, violence, angst, these idiots dont know how to take care of themselves but they know how to take care of each other Pairing: Detective Loki x Reader Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: thank you for the crazy response babes. truly thought this would flop and y’all proved me wrong. this is an important chapter and there’s a lot to say. i am open to tagging people so just lemme know if you want to be by sending an ask. GIF not mine

01 | ... | 03 | 04 | 05

“Stop eating my shit.”

“Fuck off,” you snap, tossing the container of gummies onto the dash. It’s only half-empty and it’s not like you won’t buy him more. “God, I fucking hate this case.” You pinch the bridge of your nose as he slams the door, shaking rain off his coat. You swallow the gummy, feeling it all the way down to your stomach. The list of level-three sex offenders is like your death sentence as you cross out another name on the list with jagged black lines. “Nothing?”

“Just some German porn. Fuck.” His palm collides with the steering wheel as you try to sink into your chair. The air is stuffy in here but you don’t have the strength to open a window. “Fuck.” He sucks in a breath between his teeth, the cord of his throat pulsing. You lick your lips, turn away.

“You need some coffee?” You lean forward and pull out the giant thermos you have filled to the brim with coffee from your bag, and he snatches it from you, letting the black roast scorch his throat. You press your temple against the cold window before he nudges your shoulder. He offers the open thermos back to you and you down it, the bitterness waking up your mind as you twist the cap on shut again.

“Where next?” Your nose twitches again as you sniff, trying to see straight at the list. Reading out the address, you fold it back into your pocket and lean into the window as the Sedan rolls into motion.

It is raining now, a gentle pattering that you could fall asleep too if you were home instead of here.  David sends you a glance but otherwise focuses his gaze on the road. It’s a long night before you, and you can imagine the thermos would be empty before long.

David’s fingers tap the steering wheel when he drives. You know you’re not supposed to notice such a habit of his, but it’s a part of him, like how you know when he’s under stress, he blinks like someone squirted lemon juice in his eyes, or how he takes his coffee black because he nearly choked on watered down sugar for coffee once when he was fifteen. 

But, you do. You can’t help that he’s part of you and you can’t help but smile at his young face, spitting that awful coffee into the street, one of the brightest memories in your head, surrounded by so much smoke and shadow that pulls, claws, tugs you in and then you are spiraling.

“You’re thinking loudly,” he comments, banishing the smoke for mere moments, and you toss him a look from where it had drifted into the dark trees. Bundling your coat around yourself, you recline into your chair. 

“I’m just thinking about us,” you reply and he lets out a sharp breath, a gesture often paired with him shaking his head in irritation or disbelief or something. You don’t want to look at the ruins of what you’d done. “When we were younger.”

The fingers on the steering wheel pause, wrap tighter instead, and you close your eyes.

“Really?” He is stiff, every inch of him. You’re sure the cord of his neck is hard as a rock against his skin. The line of his reflection is just visible in the glass and you press your temple against the window, looking into your lap. 

“The years you were at Huntington,” you begin, and this time you must look at him. There are only some times you can bring such a time up and by the twitch of the muscles in his jaw, this isn’t the best, but it bottles up inside you that you might… you just don’t want to think about it anymore. “Those were the worst years of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

“You haven’t.”

“Well, I hated seeing you there. I hated seeing what they did to you.” 

You can see it play before your eyes, a mere spectator to some biopic film that you are forced to see.

Two figures under the shade of the church, one tall and thin and, another carrying a can and bags and stale bread that spilled over tiny arms, food that could’ve gone to those who didn’t have a home like he did. He’d insisted you take it back, but you simply dented a can against the rock until a tiny hole formed and told him to suck the juice from the mangoes before it leaked into the moist dirt. Moonlight bathed two figures even under the shade of the church as the taller one helped the tiny one over the fence.

“I’ll come back,” you promised in harsh breaths. He held the rest of the food in his arms, granola bars he could eat quietly, bread he could rip apart in small bits and chew on, and you grabbed the front of his ratty shirt desperately despite how much he must feel, a purple and blue plethora underneath his little church uniform that’d been torn in all the wrong places. “My uncle won’t notice. I’ll come back for you.”

You thoughts drift even further back. 

A hospital waiting room, reeking of antiseptic and too much bleach. This boy you met just an hour ago, sitting with his respective social worker in that antiseptic waiting room was the most interesting person you’d ever met. He had cards, and said he’d taught himself magic tricks if you wanted to see. You nodded but played goldfish instead. 

“They’re not my real parents,” he’d told you almost angrily, and you’d balked at the thought. “I’m only here because they have to do something before they bring me to a Huntington Boys Home. They think I have ‘problems’.”

“Oh.” You had frowned artfully and he asked if you had a seven. You shook your head and said goldfish. “Where are your real parents?”

“I think they died.”

“Oh.” You remember the disappointment, the utter sadness compelling you to watch the boy as he looks into his cards.

“Why are you here?”

“My mom can’t take care of me anymore and I don’t know my dad.” Your shoulders had risen, fallen indelicately and the boy smiled with the teeth he had. He was missing one of the lower ones and you had smiled back faintly, nervously. 

“That sucks.”

“I guess. I didn’t like her that much.”

You swallow and close your eyes as if that’ll help bat the image away but it only serves to show you the bloodied knuckles, the bruises on pale, milky thighs and the scars shown in the mist of hot showers and empty locker rooms.

“You, uh, you liked the canned fruit the best. I remembered.” Your voice is faint, barely heard over the rain and rumble of the engine that’s already just a whisper.

He swallows, too, eyes burning into the windshield. You know he’s trying his hardest not to swerve or stop the car, or even look at you, because his arms shake from the strength he holds the steering wheel. You’re quite sure it might detach if he goes any longer. 

“You told me there was life outside of priests and sick fucks like them.”

“Well, I didn’t know. It was just something I heard my uncle say, when he was sober at least. He said there was a life outside of your shitty circumstance,” you reply with that indelicate shrug. You haven’t thought of the man who’d offered a roof over your head and nothing else in a while. “It was one of the few things I learned from him, not because of him.”

“You shouldn’t fucking be here,” he says softly. Your eyes trace the arch of his neck, a feather-light gaze that flickers across his cheeks, the slick-back hair, the hands that loosen on the steering wheel as you travel over a bump on the road. “This town will never be good enough for you.”

“It has you in it.” You know it’s something you shouldn’t fucking say but you can’t help it. That boy in the hospital room with the gap-wide smile sits before you and you can’t do anything about it. You turn your body inwards, towards him, and his hand finds your knee on its own accord as you settle into your new position. “I fucking hated seeing you there.” “I know.”

“I’m glad you left when you could.”

“I know.” His hand, a heavy heat on your knee, squeezes before he lifts it and your eyes dart to the warmth he’s left on you, a warmth that spreads through your body like warm wine. “I’m glad you did too, either.”

Terrible, ugly, screaming and the smell of vodka spits in your mouth. You shake off the feeling and you know that David saw you shudder. He doesn’t say anything more. Neither do you.

Time does not heal all wounds, and you wonder if love could’ve ever built a palace on sand.

.

You can’t sleep. Even with the father in custody, you can’t sleep. David’s arm tightens around your waist as he sleeps, but you know he is uneasy in his slumber. 

Fuck.

“Sleepin’?” he mumbles suddenly and you close your eyes as if that’ll help you. “Me neither.”

“Get some sleep,” you murmur back, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow. You can still see the dead man’s body in the father’s basement and your nose twitches. You had held the father above the hole, made him look at the darkness of his basement, at the bones of his work. Made him look into David’s eyes, made him see.

Not his work, a voice in the back of your mind whispers. The devastation beside you is not this man’s work. The smell of dust and cobwebs still lingers. So does David’s voice. The boys home. Sweet fruit nectar and the taste of blood form a strange cocktail in your mouth.

That’s justice unserved, too. You suppress a shiver.

“Come on.” His voice warms your neck as he pulls himself closer, nose pressed against the back of your shoulder. You tug his arm tighter around you, fingers slipping to interlace with his. “Close your eyes.” “They’re closed,” you promise. His lips brush against the bare skin of your shoulder before a feather-soft kiss lands on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. His legs press underneath your thighs and the warmth his body radiates drowns you, melts you away until you’re nothing. He digs his fingers into your bare stomach and you can feel him blinking hard against your skin. “Sleep. Please. Don’t think about that anymore.” You utter the words so softly, so desperately you barely recognize your own voice.

“Fuck,” he whispers and something wet touches your skin. You open an eye to stare through the window, at the moon nearly blocked out by the branches outside your window as he holds onto you tighter. You feel the fire burning, an ice cold fire that makes you hurt so much. Makes you want to throw him off and rip those memories from his head. Anything to make it stop. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, but it is unheard over the sounds of his harsh, hot breaths. More wetness tracks down your bare shoulders as his arm goes taut around you. You twist around immediately, and pull him close to your chest. Your eyes are closed, your hands clutching into his hair, fingers digging into his skull, salt rain sliding over your cheeks. 

He tries to speak, puffs of air that could’ve been words had he not been so choked, and you merely let him try and break you, let his hands grip bruises into your skin and trace the scars people have left behind. You trace every crack in the porcelain of his back, every fissure that you know reaches from his neck to his legs.

Why couldn’t you have chosen something other than some broken little thing? Something that does not remind you of pain and sick and ache.

You don’t know whether you ask this of yourself or to him.

.

When you wake up, it is hard to even get your eyes to open. You don’t remember when you fell asleep and you wonder if you even had at all.

Three days. Has it really been three days already? You screw up your face to wake yourself up as David shuffles around the room. He’s already awake and you glance blearily at the clock. It’s only 4 AM, that means…

Shit. An hour or two of sleep if you can even call it sleep. Fuck.

Pushing yourself up, you drag yourself out of bed on unsteady legs and wade to the bathroom. 

You’re done in record time and when you leave, David is out of the room and in the kitchen preparing coffee. You begin to poke your head through one of his shrunken dress shirts. You’d stuff it into a pair of looser pants and tie it with a belt today. You just need something looser than one of your own tightfitting blouses. Maybe it’d help you breathe easier. 

He returns moments later to button up his own dress shirt. You can see his eyes rake over your figure, over the shirt you wear, but David doesn’t say anything as you dress. The shadows of the room playing tricks on you, you pull your hair out from underneath your collar and your nose twitches. Sniffing, you try to chase away the exhaustion pulling at your ankles, trying to chain you at your bed. Your hand rubs deep into your eyes as you gather your raincoat and stuff your feet into your boots in the living room.

When the two of you are ready to leave, you a cup of black coffee already in your system and David a piece of chewing gum in his mouth, you grab your bag.

“Here.” You look up. Your huge thermos is filled to the brim with coffee, twisted shut, and you slip it into the bag. 

“Thanks.” 

Letting David press a lingering kiss to your temple before he opens the door, you dig through your bag to make sure you have everything. 

“Let’s head to the station,” he mutters. “I’m not fucking hungry.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Adjusting the straps on your shoulder, you follow after him, locking your apartment door behind you. Neither of you speak the ride to the police station, because there is nothing to say.

Last night is already forgotten.

Not really.

.

Fiddling with your phone, you run a hand through your hair. You can’t describe the uneasiness, the nausea that swirls in your stomach for the first time in years. Whilst David had left in search of the owner of the home where the RV was parked, you are stuck at homebase. You rewind the tapes, watching the interrogation of Alex Jones. It’s ten hours worth of tape, worth of footage that can mean absolutely nothing and a waste of time, or be a breakthrough in the case. You scroll back as the police officers work outside your dark room.

You can hear them talking, the little tap-tap-tap of their keyboards or the sounds of them laughing at some little joke made in the break room and fight the impulse to scream.

When did you get so fucking tired? When did invisible weights chain you to a desk, make the remote effort of rewinding a task as you watch the footage reverse?

“Detective.”

You raise your head, turning only just enough to see Chemelinski standing at the door. That ugly artificial light streams in behind him and you squint at how bright it is outside the dark room. 

“We got something.”

“What?” You stand abruptly and black dots invade your vision as you blink, hand finding the back of the chair as casually as you can. Chemelinski keeps talking and you catch bits and pieces as you walk after him, knuckles brushing the wall just in case your legs decide to give out on you. “What’d the father say?”

“Something. I dunno if you got the sense to make it fit, but it’s something.” The older man opens the door to the interrogation room and you walk in, eyebrows knitting together. The father is sitting there in his grey cardigan, looking rather pathetic for himself, and you sit down.

“Good morning, father.” You lace your fingers on the table, sitting upright as Chemelinski closes the door. “Detective over here tells me you said something specific about the… the child abductor we found in your basement. Care to share it with me?”

“He was… waging a war against God.” One eyebrow rises as you send a glance to Chemelinski who clenches his jaw so visibly you wonder if his teeth are gonna crack. You return your gaze to the father who has yet to look at you. Leaning back into the chair, your hands roll into dragging fists over wood.

“Anything else? About how they were kidnapped or…”

“He said… he took them in daylight. Sometimes, more than one child at a time.”

“Great.” Your knuckles rapping against wood, you wait for anything else. Nothing. Prompting him will have to be the way to go. “Did he act alone? Did he ever mention any family, partners?”

“He said he had a family. He was suffering from a great loss.”

“That’s it?” A numb nod. You stand, the chair scraping against the scuffed floor and you send Chemelinski a foul glare. Blackness swarms your vision and you blink, trying to get rid of it before he notices. “Great. Thank you for your cooperation, father.” Opening the door, you adjust the handcuffs stuffed along the back of your belt and walk down the hall. Chemelinski follows after you but you ignore the detective in favour of jotting down what you’d learned and sending it in a text to David.

Child abductor — took them in daylight, more than one child at a time, had a family. Father decided to talk. 

Text me when you can. -xx

You pause, staring as the text goes through. XX. 

XX.

You hadn’t thought about it before you sent it. It was merely an instinct that took over you and hollows you out now as you stare at the letters. Two simple taps of the same little shape, but it means a world of things both of you buried. You pause in the hallway, staring at that tiny screen, the pixels forming the twenty-fourth letter of the alphabet. Chemelinski sends you a strange glance, passing by you, but you ignore him as you wait for his response.

I will. -D x

He replies in a manner that means he hasn’t forgotten either. You hold the phone tightly in your fist and lift your head to the ugly artificial light as if heaven has washed you in a golden glow. Leaning against the wall, you press the phone to your chest and suck in a breath, hoping that the wind will not whisk you away.

.

Heading to the candlelight vigil. Could be a lead. -D x

What makes you think that? -xx

I dont know. Just something I wish we had. Ill see you soon. -D x

Stay safe. -xx

.

“Fuck.” 

You press the ice pack against the bruising on his shoulder, sniffing with a twitch of your nose as he let out a long, drawn out moan. The coloring isn’t bad; you assume the jacket got the brunt of the damage, but you are sure it’s gonna be worse tomorrow. 

“I should’ve been there for you,” you whisper, fingers brushing over the crisp gelled curls that fall into his eyes. He groans, leaning forward on his knees. The locker room is empty and you leave the ice pack on his shoulder for a second to get the elastic bandage and vitamin K cream. David lets out a huff as you return, moving the ice pack to unveil the red and purple.

“It’s fine. Shit.” Your fingers dipped in vitamin K cream, you smear it gently over the plane of his broad shoulder. “You couldn’t have known someone would’ve jumped onto me.”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off. You don’t know how to argue a point you are too tired to make. “How’s that feel?” you murmur, spreading a thin layer over his skin as he turns to watch your work. You wipe your hand of the excess and ask him to raise his arm a bit. Beginning to wrap his shoulder, you hum to yourself as you work.

“Too tight,” he occasionally says, or he’ll comment on the looseness of a certain round and you steadily make your progress. Forming a figure-eight pattern around his arm, shoulder, and chest, you murmur for him to take a deep breath before continuing. “Thank you,” he utters as you near the end of the elastic bandage. Your fingernails scratch against the fabric as you unfold a lip in the bandage.

“What for?” Grabbing elastic tape, you follow the same pattern to secure the bandage. The rip of the tape fills the silence David does not and you pause to look at him. “Loke.” The nickname feels fucking weird on your tongue. By David’s expression, he feels the same. He doesn’t even look at you as you smooth over the black tape.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“What do you mean?” You take hold of his arm, curling his hand into a fist to test bicep size. Sticking a finger beneath the bandage, you check for room and mobility. “Is it too tight?”

“No.”

“Okay, try moving it for me.” With your support, he eases into full mobility and you suppress a small smile. “Good.” You cross your arms and move to stand before him. “You need to get some sleep before the Captain calls you in.” 

“You don’t have to do this for me.”

Uncrossing your arms, you step forward and run your hands through his crisp hair. He looks up and, with you between his legs, rests his chin on your stomach. His fingers interlock on your back, his arms swathing you in the heat of his shower.

Your hands run down to his cheeks as you stare into his porcelain blue eyes, all at once so dark and fragile. Purple half-moons threaten to swallow up his eyes whilst you trace the hollows in his cheeks.

There is so much you have to say. So much you need to say. But you can’t. Not now. Not in the middle of this case. You know it’ll utterly destroy the pillars of what you two are if you do and you know he’s thinking the same thing.

Your eyes search his, and you sink down to a crouch before him. He looks so much older in your arms and you wonders if that is your fault, too. Your fingers drag from his cheek to the robin on his ribs and he lifts your inked hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles where you are marked.

“Get some rest, Loke. Go home and eat.” The words taste like blood and wine in your mouth, all at once bitter and sweet and sour. You draw away and his arms fall around you as your lips find the spot between his eyes. His eyelids flutter shut, and you wonder about many things that you can’t put a name to. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Come with me.” He grabs your arm, fingers snagging your wrist and your gaze, torn from the door, lands on him. The shadows are there again, and he pulls you towards him. Your boots brush against the tile as you let him pull you between his legs. “Don’t stay here alone.”

“Loke—” Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, and the rough scratch of the bandage on one palm, the silky skin of his other, topple you from within. You remember once, once some version of you would straddle him right here and now and make him yours. When you had room inside your heart for childish little tricks and David and your work. How had you ever done it in the first place? “Loki.”

“Stay with me.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Your heart stops in your chest at the wide eyes, the marble of his cheeks. You can’t. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“We don’t do that shit,” you let out in a breath, tearing yourself away. He stands and you close your eyes as if that’ll stop the heat of him from enveloping you. Even so, David Loki has the body temperature of a nuclear radiator and you can sense him from a mile away. “David, I—” Your words ghost against blazing lips as he presses a severe kiss against your mouth. Your eyes open and you gasp, trying to breathe. He suffocates you, eyes squeezed shut. Urgent and desperate and pleading, his arms hold onto you as if the world will swallow you, take you away.

You wish to tell him that’ll never happen, so you do. Your arms loop around his neck on their own accord, your lips pushing back against his in an agonizing battle of your desire and his as you tug at his skin, fingers raking red over his back. Your palms flatten and touch the scars, tiny little things, the bullet hole from the heist in ‘08, the stabbing from the breaking and entering on Holder Street, some much older than that.

But then he pulls away, and your eyes open, cold air conditioned wind breathing against your burning skin as he tries to stop himself from kissing your aching mouth again.

He only succeeds on the second try. 

His eyes are shadowed with fear and anguish, and you close your eyes, You don’t want to see that again. Not again. You hate the feeling in the very core of who you are. It feels like a personal attack, a graverobber digging up a coffin you want to remain hidden as his hands, on your neck, slide to your waist and he leans forward to kiss your cheek. His breath whispers over your chin. His thumb brushes away smeared lipstick from the corner of your mouth and you press your lips together, desperate to hold it in. Your eyes search his face, soak in every little blemish as his forehead knocks into yours. 

His other hand plays with your wrist, gently pulling until your fingers interlock and he swallows, looking down at the chasm between you two. Your chests barely brush and yet you feel he is at one end of the world and you are at the other. You are at a stepping off point, and he sits on the other end of the lake.

The smell of him is everywhere, stale coffee and gum and Bearglove deodorant he buys whenever it’s on sale. You inhale sharply, softly, and all too quickly when your gazes meet. It catches in your throat, and you don’t know when your eyes began to burn but they do. His hand holds your face like a fragile little thing, and you find yourself grabbing at his arms, his waist, inked skin that runs for miles and scars that once gave you comfort and now give you heartbreak. You hold him because you are desperate and he holds you because he knows.

You beg, you beg him because you can read his mind and know his tongue, his eyes, his taste. You know his heat and wishes and darkest desires. It is why you cannot hear this — it’ll make it too real.

Do not break a broken thing, you plead. Do not stir up dust in the ruins of the dead. We know, we know, we know. We can live in denial. Don’t do it. Don’t, don’t, don’t— 

“I still love you,” he mumbles forlornly, deliberately, at last, and your breath rattles in your chest. The weight that lifts is only momentary before it slams into you and you rip your hands away, fingers burning from lightning. The words barely sink in before your mouth opens, the response so automatic you nearly let it slip out. But he doesn’t let you. He merely kisses your forehead, and his lips press into some sort of smile written in the language of heartbreak and tragedy. It’s a language you wish you didn’t know so well. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

He grabs his black pullover and shrugs his injured shoulder. You’re left standing there, lips barely parted and still pulsing from the heat of his kiss despite how much you want to yell at him, scream for him to stay for just a moment more.

I want to say it back. I want to. I want you. I will.

I can’t.

Your legs are frozen to tile as he pauses at the door. Your head dips, eyes slipping closed as hot wet tears stream down your nose. He’s waiting. You know he is. He waits for a thing you cannot give him once again.

“I love you,” he whispers again, and this time the words bounce across walls and lockers, metal and ceramic before it reaches your hollow heart. The door swings open and shut.

You wonder how you can patch a broken heart with the very thing that broke it.

.

“Are you serious? Loki and I specifically said that we need surveillance on this guy.” It’s a bright 8 AM when you spit these words, collar twisted in your fist. “I know you’re stretched thin, but you gotta keep your word.” Your other hand grips a cup of steaming coffee you want to throw into the man’s face. Instead, you toss the dog collar onto his desk and hope the poison in your voice is enough.

“You said he was innocent.”

“And we also said we wanted surveillance on him. Look, you could’ve called either one of us. We’re a team for a reason. I could’ve went out and kept an eye on him. This was a stupid mistake, and I don’t want this to happen again.” You lean forward, fingers digging into the wood as you make sure the Captain is nearly shitting his pants.  “You fucking know how important this case is to the both of us. Don’t fuck it up again.”

“What do you want?”

“You think we can do something different, tell us.”

“Detective, when’s the last time you slept?”

“Unimportant. We need to know where everyone is.” You slam your hand hard against the desk and the pens clatter before you straighten up, taking a long pull of your coffee.

“Point made.”

“Good. Communication lines—” You gesture between yourself and the Captain— “need to be open. I’m gonna work on finding the guy. Communication. You have my number.” Whipping around, you brush past your… the man who had confessed feelings he shouldn’t have and you sigh, leaning against the wall farther down the hall. You suck down the rest of your coffee, the warmth of it chilling your stomach.

He’s in a foul mood, you know, and you’re sure it’s about the dead dog you found last night. Or it could be the fact that you slept in a motel last night. TBD. 

You hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep last night. You had sweated and tried sleeping naked, then got too cold and the covers hadn’t been enough. You tried to blame it on the shitty heater in the motel, but your body ached in a way you had only known to happen once before so you’d instead gone out for a late night stroll around the block to jog out the energy. 

In the break room, you find it empty and you sigh, opening the fridge to check for food that hasn’t been claimed. Nothing. There’s a stack of icecream, but you’ll eat that later. Slamming the door shut, you catch your warped reflection in the metal. Your eyes are sunken and red, purple smearing your skin like someone punched you right in the sockets and your skin is dull and weepy. You gently probe at the swollen eyebags, tossing your coffee into the trash.

“Morning.” Spinning around, you spot him leaning against the door, hands shoved in his pockets. Concern is etched onto his face, but so is every hour he didn’t have as sleep.

“Good morning.”

Your eyes drift back to the trash can. You’d rather get tossed into a dumpster then face him right now. “I have… work to do.” You fucking hate this. No matter how much you try, you know that if your eyes meet his for even a split second, you won’t be able to control what happens next.

“Yeah, so do I.”

And you walk past him as if he means nothing. As if he does not stare holes into your back. As if you will not seek him out later because the two of you are moths and flames, gold to a thief, the moon and ocean, an inexplicable pull that defies the laws of every science.

.

“You’re only three hours into the tape.” 

The man whips around in the office chair and you cross your arms, the corner of your mouth twitching. He turns around, pressing his face into his fingers as you walk into the dark room. You can see the tapes he’s watching, the ones you’ve obsessed over, and you blink, nose twitching at the sight of Alex Jones.

“You know this shit well,” he mutters. You place a hand on his injured shoulder, you don’t feel the foam padding but he stiffens and not from the pain. Cramps crawl up your arm and your fingers roll into a fist when you peel yourself off of him. “Fuck. I don’t… I don’t know if there’s something there that I’ve missed or—”

“You get any sleep last night?”

“Did you?”

Silence. He runs a hand over his face, leaning into his chair and you look down at him. All hard lines and soft edges, you want to touch him even though you know you’ll burn.

“Why’d you say it?” you ask softly. He doesn’t turn to look at you and you wrap yourself in your arms, squeezing hard enough as a reminder. “We agreed.”

“I know. I know, but— ”

“Detectives.” The two of you spring apart like you’re highschoolers caught fucking at prom and David digs a finger into his swollen eyes. He looks as fucking tired as you feel. “You’ve got a call.”

Sighing, he pauses the tape. “Right. Fuck, you… you don’t have to go.” You step back to give him room, and when he stands, you hate how much he towers over you. Hate how much you want to tell him he’s wrong. But instead, you nod.

“I’ll stay. You, go.” 

Your eyes meet for just the briefest of seconds and he blinks hard. Running a hand over his mouth and chin, he nods and turns to go.

He’s muzzling himself. You hate it when he fucking does this, but now, you can’t do shit about it. Words that threaten to spill out of your mouth slam against your lips as you watch him leave, and you sit down where he did mere minutes ago, the warmth of him still lingering like a mist, a cloak.

You pretend you can’t think about him anymore. Love is not for men and women like you.

.

He goes to Value Mall every week, buys different sizes for kids -D x

Pays with cash, messes with mannequins. Gave her both our numbers. -D x

Thought I should let you know. -D x

I know. Thanks. -xx

Alright. I can go to a motel or whatever. -D x

No it’s okay. I wouldn’t mind if you were there -xx

.

David crawls into bed with you for the first time in more than twenty-four hours. His back presses against yours tentatively and you turn, the sheets twisting around your legs. Your arm wraps around his waist, eyes closing. His heart thuds underneath your ear, an echo that fits into the hollow of your ribs.

Peace lasts for two hours before you’re done pretending trying to sleep. For lunch, you grab a coffee from the cart near the hospital on the way to the station.

You don’t talk about what he said, pretend it never happened in some unspoken agreement, but you can read it in his eyes every time he thinks you’re not looking. You wonder if things were different, would he have told you still? Or would he have doomed himself to silence forever instead?

The answer to your question is ashes in your mouth.

tags: @woah-jess @jenlrose @mytinybaguette @arcaneloki

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Ice Cream Kisses - Nicole Row x Reader

Request: PLEASE! MORE NICOLE ROW X READERS! I DONT CARE WHAT YOU WRITE ABOUT, AS LONG AS IT IS ABOUT NICOLE! I WILL INSTANTLY EAT THAT SHIT UP! (im feed) & Sorry to bother you, I know you have lots of requests, but one day can you make a Nicole/Female reader fic where the female reader really likes Nicole, but Nicole doesn't know she likes her? I know you have lots of requests, I don't mind waiting. & Can we have more Nicole imagines please !!!

Summary: You manage to befriend your crush Nicole, or is it more than just friendship?

Reader: female

Word count: 2 268

A/N: I suck at summaries, why did I decide to do it anyway? Also sorry for combining a few requests, but I have so many for Nicole, I would be writing nobody but Nicole for ages, but don’t worry, more are coming anyway ;)

You did not even know how to describe her, it seemed as if there were no words that did justice to Nicole. ‘Beautiful’ was too ordinary, ‘stunning’ sounded too hard, ‘hot’ too objectifying, ‘perfect’ was to uncreative, ‘breathtaking’ too complicated. To you, the girl with the long, flowing golden hair and the beaming green eyes was of otherworldly beauty, and maybe someone like Shakespeare would have managed to conserve her appearance and character in an elegant combination of words, but not you. In fact, whenever you were talking about her, it was more incoherent babbling than anything else.

“And you know, she just… argh, she did this smile where like… you know? Where the whole face lights up, and you feel really warm and all… and-“

“I get it, I get it,” you best friend Brendon laughed “she smiled at you.”

“Yes, but like… not just smiled, more like smiled smiled. Like… beamed? Like a spotlight that was just directed at me?”

Brendon giggled and pushed himself up on his elbows, sitting up on the soft carpet on the floor of your room.

“Why don’t you just go and tell her,” he asked, “I’m pretty sure she likes you back.”

“I can’t do that,” you immediately protested, but your heart was beating harder in your chest at the thought. “She’s one of the cool kids, and she could never ever ever ever fancy me in even the slightest!”

Brendon shook his head in disagreement and clicked the pen, which he had picked up from the floor, a few times.

“I just think she’s shy. Maybe you should try and talk to her for a change.”

~*~

Brendon was not wrong, technically.

And you hated it.

Normally talking to someone was not very difficult, right? ‘Hey have you read that book for English Literature already? Me neither!’ ‘Mr. Simpson was in a mood today, don’t you think?’ ‘Have you heard about the new rule on not eating in the corridors? Ridiculous, right?’

But when it came to Nicole, it seemed more realistic to win a Nobel Prize in Physics than to start a conversation with her that would not end with you dying of shame.

You had just taken your seat in the back of the classroom, and pulled out your books, when you noticed the golden glimmer of long, blonde hair from the corner of your eyes. No matter how hard you tried not to look into her direction, you couldn’t help but watch her walk over to her desk, where two girls were already sitting.

You had always assumed the three were friends, but watching their body language and the way Nicole threw her hands in the air in annoyance suddenly made you doubt that. You felt bad for Nicole, and angry at the girls, as she turned around, away from the two, a frown on her face, her eyes searching the room in what almost resembled desperation. When her eyes flickered into your direction, you quickly lowered your head, and pretended to be searching for something in your bag.

“Is this seat taken?”

Nicole’s soft voice always sent butterflies straight to your belly, but hearing it directed at you almost gave you a heart attack. Slowly you looked up to the beautiful student standing in front of you. Her eyes looked sad, and the fingers which she had wrapped around her books, were turning white from gripping them so tightly.

“Sure, please sit down,” you offered, gesturing to the empty chair next to yours, surprised by how calm your voice was.

Shyly she smiled and pulled the chair out, placed the books she had been holding on the table, and sat down. For a moment she kept her head lowered, trying to collect her thoughts, but then she quickly looked up, straight at you.

You returned her inquisitive stare for a few seconds before becoming too aware of how beautiful the girl next to you was. Your heart was already beating in your throat, making you fear the whole school could hear it, but seeing Nicole from so close up, being able to see every single freckle on her nose, made your head spin.

“Sorry,” she suddenly apologized and lowered her eyes, before glancing back up at you. “It’s just… I don’t know. I hope I’m not keeping you from sitting with your friends?”

You rolled your eyes and giggled.

“Have you ever seen someone sit next to me in this class?”

Not to mention that you would choose sitting next to Nicole a thousand times over sitting next to anyone else.

Her eyes watched you carefully, a smile tucking at her lips.

“No, I haven’t”, she admitted.

“So, to what do I owe the honor of your company,” you joked, making her smile broader.

Nicole’s eyes flickered between you and her hands nervously.

“Do you remember how you said in sociology class that the recognition of same sex marriage is one of the most important changes in society this last decade, and that these changes would have been impossible without allies?”

You nodded. Of course you remembered the rant you had given in class a few weeks ago. You especially remembered the confused and annoyed looks from your classmates, though a good part of that was probably also due to the fact that you had mentioned that you were interested in girls.

“Now, my friends aren’t that open when it comes to not being straight.”

You furrowed your brows. What was Nicole saying; that she was not straight?

“Well, you’re always welcome here,” you motioned around you, as if you were talking about a group of people, and not just yourself, “Straight or not.”

“More on the not straight side, but thanks,” Nicole laughed, her nervousness melting away immediately.

Contently you noticed how her shoulders relaxed and her smile grew genuine.

“Do you want to go to lunch together?”

~*~

Everything that happened afterwards seemed like an absolute miracle to you. After lunch you had headed to class together and after school Nicole accompanied you to the local library. Every day after that, you spent the breaks hanging out together, and soon you had turned into close friends. Of course there was still the jumping of your heart in your chest at the mere thought of the beautiful girl, but you grew used to it over time. Sometimes you felt guilty, the thought that you were leading her on pushing itself into your mind continuously. She was in it for the friendship, you thought, but you still pictured what it would be like to be her girlfriend. The thoughts felt forbidden, and you pushed them away as often as possible, trying to tell yourself that you were just friends, nothing more, but there were still moments you failed.

Sometimes late at night, when you were exhausted but unable to fall asleep, your heart got the better of you, listing all the times the interactions between Nicole and you could have been more than friendship.

In these nights the images of how many times she had held your hand while walking down a corridor clouded your mind, the lingering hugs you shared when you said goodbye were burning on your skin, and the countless banters that seemed too much like flirting, dizzied your head. In the morning though, you had to shake all this off.

Yes, maybe everyone knew you were not the straightest girl, but you would never find the courage to tell Nicole that when you had said you liked “girls”, you had actually meant that you liked her.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and the mall was flooded with people. Nicole and you had decided on meeting up to look through the records at your favorite store, and maybe go for an ice cream afterwards. Sunlight fell through the glass of the mall’s roof, almost blinding you a little as you ordered the ice cream for Nicole and yourself after an unsuccessful trip to the record store.

The waver cones in hand you maneuvered through the crowd to the bench on which Nicole had been waiting for you.

“How much do you get,” she asked, when you handed her the candy, reaching for her purse.

“Nothing, it’s fine, you’re invited,” you told her, flopping down unceremoniously on the bench next to her.

The radiant smile on her face made your heart speed up almost painfully, drowning out her words of thanks, so you quickly concentrated on licking away the first drops of molten ice cream, as not to give your flustered state away.

Little did you know that your little game of hide and not seek was very badly played. Nicole had noticed your glances and stares long before she even started talking to you, and the conversation in which her now former friends that had revealed their intolerance towards same sex relationships, had actually been about her growing fondness of you.

It had taken all her courage to walk over to you that day and ask for the seat, but she had figured that there would never be another chance like this again, so she had taken it. With a little, knowing smirk, she watched how you concentrated on your ice cream, trying to hide the effect her smile had had on you.

It had become her favorite thing, to make you blush simply by smiling at you, and it was her involuntary reaction to you anyway. When she had been doubtful and nervous in the beginning of your friendship, her confidence had grown rapidly every time she noticed your reaction to her, so knowing you would never be the one making the first step, she finally might find courage to do it herself.

You were oblivious to her thoughts, to her contemplation of how likely it was you would kiss her back if she tried to kiss you, so you kept eating your ice cream. The sun beams of the spring fell through the glass roof, making the mall glow in light and life. Contently you pulled your legs up on the bench and crossed them to sit more comfortably. Silence was spread between Nicole and you, both of you following your thoughts about each other until you had finished the sweet treat.

“So,” Nicole finally spoke up, after having swallowed the last crumbs of her wafer, “Any more plans for today?”

“Nope,” you answered, popping the p, “you?”

She quietly shook her head, her eyes fixed on your lips, which made your heart once again race in your chest.

“Uhm, you got some ice cream…” she pointed at her own lip, showing you where you had a little drop of ice cream clinging to your face.

Quickly you wiped over the spot, using the paper napkin from the wafer, which you had crumbled up in your hand.

“Gone,” you asked, looking at her expectantly.

“No, it’s right here,” she answered, still pointing out the same spot.

Again you wiped over your mouth, checking the napkin for a stain, but again it seemed you had missed it.

“Still?”

“Yeah, let me,”

Nicole scooted closer to you, making you shuffle in your seat nervously for a second, an action that made Nicole smile, but she tried to suppress it.

You offered her the rigid paper napkin, but she ignored your outstretched hand, and leant in closer until her face was only mere inches away from yours.

Breathing suddenly seemed a strange, foreign concept to you. In your chest, your heart was running a thousand miles a second, making you shake slightly with nerves. While one part of your mind was running around in your head, happily panicking, the other one was frozen, over and over mumbling “what’s happening, what’s happening”.

Shyly you looked up at Nicole, her green eyes greeting you gently, calmly, but questioningly. You felt like you were not even sure what you were agreeing to, all you knew was that you wanted to kiss her really, really badly, wanted to hold her as close to you as possible, but when your eyes flickered to her soft, pink lips, before looking back up at her, it was all the consent she needed.

The last inches were closed within the blink of an eye, both of you leaning in at the same time, carefully, yet desperately connecting your lips to each other’s. Without even realizing your hand moved up into her hair, waving your fingers into her soft strands, pulling her as close as your position would allow you. Your other hand was sitting in your lap, closed around the napkin. When Nicole reached up to gently cup your face in her hands, your breath once again hitched at the sensation of her warm hands against your skin.

Far too soon she pulled away from you, a wicked smile pulling on her lips.

“I definitely should try out the ice cream you had,” she smirked, irritating you for a moment.

When you understood what she meant you just rolled your eyes playfully at her, and huffed. Her hand snuck over to you, wrapping around your fingers before she shot you a glance, checking your reaction. Obviously you were smiling brighter than she had ever seen you before, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of your slightly dazed but more than happy expression.

“I’m just wondering if there really was some ice cream on my face or did you just want to kiss me,” you challenged after a few seconds of looking at her dreamily.

“Well my dear,” she giggled, intertwining her fingers with yours tightly, “you’ll never know.”

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, pleaese let me know):

General: @justawriterinprogress @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty

[broadstreetmisfits]

The Moment I Knew - Michal Cajkovsky

GUYS I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT SO IM REPOSTING IT BUT LIKE IN A SHITTIER FORMAT BC IM LAZY. PLS DONT HATE ME.

You woke up the morning of your birthday to find your room covered in balloons. Walking down the stairs, you found your best friend, Michal Cajkovsky and his teammates in your kitchen.

“Guys! It is eight in the morning! What the hell are you doing here?” You asked

“Uh baking a cake” Marek said as if it was obvious

“Can’t you do that in your own house? How’d you even get in here anyway?” You asked jumping from one question to another

“You gave me a key, remember?” Michal reminded you

You sighed, yet again you regretted giving him that key to your apartment. He’d always pop in at the most random times.

“Are you ready for the party tonight Y/N?” Tomas asked

You nodded in response “Yeah, I can’t wait”

THAT NIGHT

You threw on your favorite little black dress that your boyfriend always loved to see you in and you texted him.

Y/N: Hey, you coming tonight?

Y/BF/N: I wouldn’t miss it for the world

Everyone began to arrive midafternoon. You greeted everyone with a big smile, looking forward to the party tonight. That was when you walked over to your best friend.

“Thank you so much for doing this” You smiled as you rested your head on Michal’s shoulder

“It’s nothing” he replied

You walked around the room, talking to each and every person who would wish you a happy birthday. After walking around the room multiple times, it sunk in that your boyfriend still wasn’t here. You would continuously sneak small glances to the front door in hopes that your boyfriend would walk in. You checked your phone to fine no texts or calls from him.

You figured he was just running late so you turned your attention back to the conversation you were having with Marek and Tomas. You guys – well mostly they were – sharing childhood stories. Tomas must’ve said something funny because Marek burst out in laughter after his teammate spoke. You smiled and faked a laugh, pretending to actually care about the conversation they were having.

You walked around the house yet again, but this time you made sure to thank everyone for coming. You continued to attempt to be interested in whatever conversation your guests were dragging you into, but you couldn’t help but worry where on Earth your boyfriend was. After managing to sneak away from the crowd, you pulled out your phone once again, so you decided to text him to see what was going on.

Y/N: Babe are you alright? The party started an hour ago

Michal stood on a chair and rang a bell that he pulled out of his pocket “Dinner!” He called to the group

The team, the rest of your guests and yourself gathered around the table. Since you were the birthday girl, you were forced to sit at the head of the table. You hated to admit it, but the guys made an amazing dinner. Passing the food around, you were sure to get a little bit of everything on your plate. However, you couldn’t help but notice the empty seat where your boyfriend should have been sitting.

“So how’s Y/BF/N?” Patrik asked

“Alright, he must be running late though, but he said he’s be here any minute” You lied straight through your teeth

Patrik nodded then went back to eating his food. You could feel a tear starting to form in the corner of your eye so you politely excused yourself and went to the bathroom. When you closed the door, the tears instantly began to stream down your face. You found yourself crumbling to the floor as you wept. Minutes later, you heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Go away” You muttered

“Y/N, open the door” You heard one of your boyfriend’s best friends, Jack, say

“Please Y/N” Your boyfriend’s other best friend, Dylan, say “It’s just the two of us”

You got up off the floor and opened the door. The two boys immediately engulfed you into a hug.

“What’s wrong?” Dylan asked not letting go of you

“He said… he said… he said he’d be here” You sobbed into his shirt

“Y/N, we can’t understand you” Jack replied

You pulled apart from the two boys, took a deep breath to attempt to collect yourself, and then repeated what you had just said. “He said he’d be here”

“I’m so sorry” Jack said and hugged you again

“Let’s go upstairs and clean you up a bit” Dylan suggested

You nodded and then led the two boys up to your room. Your heart sank as it hit you that he actually wasn’t coming. What was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life turned out to be one of your worst. You sat down on your bed and the two guys soon joined you. The three of you sat in silence as you attempted to get yourself together even more.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, you finally spoke “I think I’m ready”

You guys walked back downstairs where everyone else was still sitting around the table. You half hoped that your boyfriend was magically sitting at the table, but alas he was not. You sighed and Jack, Dylan and yourself sat back down in your seats at the table.

“Are you alright?” Michal asked as you sat back down

You nodded “Yeah, I’m fine”

You ate the rest of your dinner in silence. As you listened in on everyone’s conversations, you couldn’t help yourself from looking at the door every five seconds in hopes of seeing is smile burst through the door.

Everyone finished dinner and then moved to the family room where you turned on some hockey game. You honestly didn’t really care about the score, or who was playing as a matter of fact, since your best friends and his teammates were lounging in the same room as you. The cameras switched from a game to a few people in the stands. You recognized one face immediately….

Your boyfriend.

Your jaw dropped in shock. Without saying a single word to anyone, you ran up to your room, flopped down onto your bed and let the tears fall. As you were crying, you heard the front door open and the house get quieter and quieter. You don’t know how long you were lying in bed, but you eventually got up and changed into something a lot more comfy. You took off what was left of your makeup and returned to your room. You scrolled through twitter until your phone began buzzing. It was a call. From your boyfriend. You were extremely hesitant to pick up, but you eventually did.

“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it” Your boyfriend began

“Y/BF/N…” You said but he didn’t hear you

“My cousin invited me to go to a soccer game” he rembled on

“Y/BF/N.” You repeated

He still didn’t hear you “I was gonna invite you, but you had your party…”

“Y/BF/N!” You yelled causing the other end of the line to be dead silent. “I’m sorry too” you drastically lowered your voice

“What? What do you mean you’re sorry? You have nothing to apologize for” He replied clearly confused

“I’m sorry, I should’ve known better”

“Are you-?” He asked

“Yes” You interrupted “I’ll see you around Y/BF/N”

You couldn’t bear to hear his response, so you hung up the phone before he could say a word. You put on some sad music, something you always did when you ended a relationship, and shoved your face into your pillow.

Countless songs and tears later, you heard a knock on your bedroom door.

“Go away” You yelled even though you figured it was Michal coming to check on you

Sure enough you heard his voice through the door “It’s me”

Yet again you yelled “Go away”. You groaned when you heard your door open; you had forgotten to lock it when you came in to cry. You felt the bed dip when Michal sat next to you. “I said ‘go away’”. You mumbled

“I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were okay.” He replied as he laid down next to you

“Oh I don’t know, I just broke up with my boyfriend who decided a soccer game was more important than my birthday party, does it look like I’m okay?” You asked lifting your head up and looking at him to show him your tear stained face.

He gave you a ‘come on really?’ look as he spoke his next words. “Turn off your sad music, he was ugly anyway”

“No he was not!” You protested as you shot up from your laying positon

“Yes he was.” He argued as he sat up and grabbed your phone from your nightstand.

“Noooooo! Gimme my phone and let me suffer” You whined

“Noooooo!” Michal mocked you “You are not going to suffer”

“Please leave me in my misery” You continued

Instead of verbally responding, you saw Michal get up off the bed. He then put his arms around you and lifted you up. He carried you bridal style out of your room and down to the living room where he put you on the couch. You looked around to see the house was completely clean in comparison to the mess it was in earlier that day.

“Why did you bring me down here?” You asked as Michal sat down next to you

“Because we are going to play some video games to get over this boy” He said

You sighed, already knowing you were going to regret doing this with him. However, by the time you two called it quits, you were having a blast beating him in Mario Kart. At the end of the night, you were dead asleep laying on Michal, not a single thought of your ex-boyfriend was in your mind.

[feverhalo]

(Hi Glass it's ya-nurse hello you totally don't have to do this I'm just throwing ideas at you) if you're looking for prompts, maybe some sick sleepy Keith? Like, Lance notices he keeps dozing off during the day and finds it weird but shrugs it off. Later when Lance goes to the bathroom during the night he finds Keith nearly collapsed in the hallway on a failed search for help. Keith has a super high fever and Lance is worried my dude

@ya-nurse prompted this last night. Its what I made that really excited “keith is the sleep police” post about. I hope its somewhere in the ballpark of what you were hoping for. I know some of it got stretched pretty far off the original mark. Thank you for sending one in!

I’m gonna give a mild content warning- so spoiler if you dont want to have the warning- keith is found unconscious with pills in his hand but he is okay and the fic is just as labeled on the can- he is sick and falls asleep everywhere.

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

Sleep Police

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

The paladins each had their own quirks that pissed the others off. Hunk, for example, would sing under his breath in high stress situations if his nervous stomach hadn’t overtaken him. Lance had his habit of trying to one-up everyone all the time; so you could do a hundred push ups? He could do a hundred and one. Pidge, Pidge did a lot of weird stuff the others were willing to forgive since they were the youngest, but the worst was leaving half made or half eaten food everywhere. Shiro liked to pull the ‘I’m the adult’ card a lot more lately. ‘You can’t eat that for breakfast. Because I said so, I’m the adult I know you’ll regret eating that for breakfast.’ And then he would eat it so you couldn’t.

Keith though. Keith was great at infuriating Lance, because Lance was competitive and like to read way too much in to things. But for the most part, like with everyone else, it was minor stuff they could overlook. Except for Keith being the sleep police. If he caught you sleeping somewhere outside of your room, the agreed upon campsite, or on some occasions the common area couch, you were going to be woken up. Didn’t matter how tired you were. It wasn’t where you were supposed to sleep.

Lance was just about going to have a field day when he walked in to breakfast one morning and Keith was dozing with his head propped in his hand at the table. He got all the way to the point he was crouched behind Keith’s chair, poised to jab him in the sides to startle him awake, when Keith snuffled and straightened up yawning for a second before picking up his fork. Lance’s face fell and he stomped off to get his own food.

A second chance came in mid-morning training just before their recon mission. Keith was standing propped in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest, head ducked down. It looked like he was sort of watching the demonstration, but Lance noticed his head nodding and tipping to lean on the wall. And there he was, Keith Kogane just sleeping standing up. Lance did a double take, stammering.

“Are you believing this? Am I the only one seeing this?” He gestured towards Keith. The demonstration stopped, Shiro raised his eyebrow. When he turned back, Keith was standing, leaning against the wall giving Lance a look.

“Yeah, no, I’m with him, Shiro. Theres something funky with this routine,” Hunk paused, “It feels kind of, off balance.”

Shiro and Hunk ran through the routine again, and Hunk was able to point out what he meant, and Lance’s outburst was forgotten. He glared at Keith, but he was back to leaning against the wall with his eyes half shut.

Post mission, Lance was sure Keith was asleep on the way back with Red on autopilot. He was so sure, actually, he was ready to go pull Keith out of the red lion. He was starting to think Keith was doing it on purpose to mess with him.

They all landed, and Lance hopped out of Blue so fast, he missed the landing entirely and ended up rolling on the floor for a second before he got up and ran over to Red. And there was Keith climbing out just as he got there.

“Dude!” Lance threw his arms up in the air and turned to walk off. Keith just stared after him in a bit of a daze. He shook his head slowly, trying to clear it. He quietly thanked Red for covering for him so he could rest his aching head for a while on the way back.

He walked past the rest of them and headed to his room. He felt awful and just wanted to sleep somewhere he belonged for sleeping. He wasn’t sure if he felt more disturbed by his lack of energy and how awful he felt for being in the void of space in a rather sterile castle most of the time, or that he kept falling asleep all day in the wrong places. He threw his helmet over away from him and managed to toe off one shoe before he gave up and just flopped face down onto his bed.

 Keith awoke with a start, feeling overheated and coughing. He felt vaguely nauseated when he pushed himself up and the room started spinning. He needed to get a drink, and some medicine. He had a pack of painkillers in here, it would work on his fever too. He grabbed one of the blister pack sheets and stumbled his way down the hall to the kitchen. He let his damp jacket fall off him and left it where it fell. He had a mission right now, and if he stopped for anything, he was going to fall over.

Keith made it to the kitchen, but he was so winded and dizzy by that time, he had to hold on to the counter to steady himself. He slid down and rested his back against the cabinets for a minute, just to get the world to stop swaying on him.

 Lance scrubbed his face as he brought his cup back to the kitchen. He went to flick the lights on, but found them already on when he paid attention. One of the chairs was knocked askew and there was another cup laying on its side beside the sink. Lance quirked his head, wondering who else came down for a refill and forgot their cup. He fixed the chair as he walked by, and nearly dropped his cup as he saw Keith on the floor.

“Keith!” He was fast asleep, breathing even, propped up against the counter. He was holding an unopened sheet of pills in his hand and his face was tilted forward, but Lance could still see the hot flush across his features.

“Hey, Keith,” Lance shook Keith’s shoulder gently. With his other hand he reached up to check Keith’s temperature as the other paladin stirred. He was definitely overly warm. “You’re sleeping in the wrong place. How could you not notice?” Lance joked, lightly as Keith blinked awake.

“Huh?”

“You’re sleeping in the kitchen, here let me help you out.” Lance made sure Keith wasn’t going to tip over before he stood up. He filled the cup with some water and crouched back down. He popped two of the familiar pills out of the blister pack before putting them in Keith’s palm and holding the water for him.

Keith stared at his palm and the two little red pills sitting there. Lance gave his hand a bump, and he remembered he needed to take the medicine because he was sick, and he felt hot and sick. He put one in his mouth and took several sips of water to try and swallow it down. He coughed and choked on it for a second before managing. He repeated the process with the second pill, and it wasn’t much easier. He hated pills and tried to avoid taking them if he could.

“Why don’t you try and sleep somewhere else, now? I’ll help you out.” Lance pulled Keith up and wrapped one feverish arm over his shoulders and tucked the swaying boy against his side as they staggered down the hall. Keith rubbed at his face and mumbled to himself a bit as they went.

“Hmm?”

“I can’t believe I fell asleep in the kitchen… How did that even happen.”

“Not the weirdest place I’ve seen you asleep today,” Lance took them both to his own room and laid Keith on his bed. He sat on the floor beside the bed after getting Keith situated. “This is a much better place to sleep.”

Keith nodded, and just like that, he was asleep again. Lance figured he should probably let someone else know, but it was still the middle of the night, and Keith took the medicine alright. He pressed his fingers to Keith’s cheek again for a second. He decided it would be okay, something was just assuring him things would be alright for a few more hours. He pulled an extra pillow down to the floor with him and rolled to face the bed and laid down too.

[howlfawkes]

1 _ 104?????

Sure, let's do it. 1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say?  - Well this is weird.  2. What’s going on between you and the last person you kissed? - it was a kiss on the cheek but anyway we're close friends. 3. If your boyfriend or girlfriend was into drugs, would you care? - if it was hard drugs yes I'd care. 4. Is your last name longer than six letters? - Yup5. Was your last kiss drunk or sober? - Sober6. Have you ever wanted to have someone but you messed it up? - No7. What does your last received text say? - You wanna go get tacos or wings?8. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed? - once9. Where was your last kiss at? - A bar10. When is the last time you saw your sister? - I don't have one?11. What do you drink in the morning? - Typically a smoothie high in vegetables and some fruit 12. Where did you sleep last night? - my bed13. Do you think relationships are hard? - I believe relationships can have hardships yes, but not they are necessarily hard. 14. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you? - No15. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, any problems? - Nah we're the same sign it's all good. 16. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy? - Rainy it's been too hot recently17. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you? - No18. Are you wearing jeans,sweatpants,or pajama pants? - None of the above?19. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 years from now? - I don't know? I'm not really planning something like that out. Whatever happens happens. 20. Does anyone like you? - bahahahahaha if they do, I dont know it. 21. Have you ever kissed someone with a name that starts with an S? - yup the one on the cheek if that counts22. Is the last person you kissed gay? - Yup23. Is there a person you CANNOT stand? - A few24. Have you ever considered getting a tattoo? - I've considered and will be getting many25. In the past week have you cried? - yes26. What breed was the last dog you saw? - Corgi27. Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower? - out of the shower28. Have you ever kissed a football player? - no29. Do you think you’re old? - no30. Do you like text messaging? - yes31. What type of day are you having? - it's neutral, semi productive most of the day, now just winding down 32. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? - already have it pierced 33. Do you prefer warm or cold weather? - warm  34. Is there a person of the opposite sex who means a lot to you? - Yes there are many people of the opposite sex that mean a great deal to me35. Would you prefer a relationship or a fling? - A relationship? 36. Are you a simple or complicated person? - I think maybe a little of both37. What song are you listening to? - Afterlife By Greyson Chance; Castle on the Hill - Seeb remix38. When you say you’re sorry do you mean it? - Yes, of course. 39. Is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you? - A couple. 40. What made you start liking the person you like now? - who said I like anyone right now?41. When did you last receive a text message? - yesterday. 42. What is wrong with you right now? - nothing?43. How well do you know the last female you texted? - pretty well she's a close friend. 44. Does anyone disgust you? - maybe. 45. Would you date someone right now if they asked? - Hmm, I dont know. 46. Are you in a good mood right now? - relatively yes 47. Who was the last person you talked to in person? - My mom. 48. What color shirt are you wearing? - I'm wearing a blue blood donor shirt. 49. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear? - No?50. Anyone you’re giving up on? - eh. 51. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for?  - who's to say I've fell the hardest I could for someone as of yet? 52. Have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t? - yes53. Do you like rain? - yup 54. Do you care if your boyfriend/girlfriend drinks? - nope55. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them? - nope 56. Do you like to cuddle? - god yes 57. Are you shy? - at times  58. Do you get along with girls? - yup59. Have you dated the person you texted last? - nope 60. What do you carry with you at all times? - wallet, headphones, phone, some type of candy probably 61. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you? - sure why not 62. Do you think you can last in a relationship for five months? - sure 63. Think back to October, were you in a relationship? - yes 64. The person you like kisses you on the forehead, do you find this cute? - depends on the setting and what the notion was which triggered such action65. Did anything “cute” happen in the last week? - nope66. How old are the last three people you kissed? 35, 30, 2367. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself?    Do them myself 68. Which do you like better- Zebra print or leopard print? - leopard69. Do you have any stickers on your car? - yup70. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne? - lil Wayne 71. Blackberry, Anroid, or iPhone? - Android     72. When’s the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut? - two weeks ago73. Do you like diet soda? - Ew74. What color are the walls in your room? - the parts you can see are white but most of my room is covered with tapestries and shelves 75. Are you 16 or older?   - yup76. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars? 77. Do you have a job? - yup  78. What are your initials?  A.C.G79. Did you ever have braces? - nope80. Are you from the south? - yup81. What does your last status on facebook say?  - I don't think I have one?82. Do you still talk to the first person you ever kissed? - god no83. Are you closer to your mom or your dad? - I'm close to both 84. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics?  - nope to either85. What’s the last movie you saw in theaters?  -   Blair Witch 86. Do you smoke? - occasionally 87. Would you rather wear heels or flip flops? - is there another option??? 88. Is your phone touch screen? - yup89. Do you normally wear your hair straight or curly?  - spiked?90. Have you ever snuck out of your house? - not really91. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool?    - all of the above would be great92. Have you ever made out in a car?   - yup93. …Had sex in a car?  - yup94. Are you single or in a relationship?  - I'm very single 95. What were you doing last night at midnight?  - listening to music probably while trying to fall asleep96. When’s the last time you saw fireworks? - I can't remember? 97. Do you like the camera on your phone? It's okay I like my physical cameras a little better 98. Have you ever had a friend with benefits? - nope the only benefits I have with my friends is unconditional love and awesome sleep overs. 99. Have you ever passed out from drinking?  - HA no100. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate?   - no101. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare?  - nope102. Name your favorite Kesha song:  Supernatural and Dancing with Tears in my Eyes103. Do you have any tan lines right now? - yup104. Would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts?   - probably not