#i memorised this whole fucking clip

[oneofgothamsinsane]

IVE COME TO MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT;

SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG IS A BITCH ASS MOTHERFUCKER. HE PISSED ON MY FUCKING WIFE- THAT'S RIGHT, HE TOOK HIS HEDGEHOG FUCKIN QUILLY DICK OUT AND HE PISSED ON MY WIFE, AND HE SAID HIS DICK WAS "T h i s B i g" AND I SAID "THATS DISGUSTING." SO IM MAKING A CALLOUT POST ON MY TWITTER DOT COM. SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG! YOUVE GOT A SMALL DICK, ITS THE SIZE OF THIS WALNUT EXCEPT WAY SMALLER, AND GUESS WHAT? THATS WHAT MY DONG LOOKS LIKE! (explosion noises) THATS RIGHT, BABY! TALL POINTS, NO QUILLS, NO PILLOWS! IT LOOKS LIKE TWO BALLS AND A BONG! He fucked my wife, so I'm gonna fuck the EARTH! THATS RIGHT, THIS IS WHAT YOU GET! MY SUPER LAZER PISS! Except im bot gonna piss on the earth, oh no, I'm gonna go HIGHER! IM PISSING ON THE MOON!(Explosion) HOW YA LIKE THAT OBAMA? I PISSED ON THE MOON YOU IDIOT!!

...

YOU HAVE 23 HOURS BEFORE THE PISS D R R O P P P L E T S HIT THE FUCKING EARTH, now get out of my fucking sight before I piss on you to.

[lululandd]

── 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 [ I.] 

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 588

warnings: angst, hurt no comfort, reader’s pov

note: posted this under a side account thinking i can manage two accounts but im a lazy fuck so that shit is gone and im reposting it here

summary: the first thing you noticed was his smiles never reached his eyes anymore. 

You love the smile wrinkles he has on the corners of his eyes, and would do just anything to make them appear. Memorising puns, laughing at his jokes, and at the end of the day he sometimes would smile at you even when you two did absolutely nothing. Simon would just stare at you, and when you finally noticed, he would smile.

But suddenly your usual routine had changed, now it was always you that smiled at him first, trying to coax it out of him, to no avail. He would smile at you but it seemed distant somehow, brief and insincere. This all happened since he came home from deployment, after he had told you his superior had granted him a couple months off. His work is taxing, and you know it takes a toll on him, but he had never been distant this long. You deduced that something must have happened at work. The work he never wants to talk about. The mysterious work that he always kept hidden from you. You try to live normally, act as if nothing happened, and try to comfort him as best you can, without success.

The second was that he hasn’t been coming back to bed. You would start the night together, and in the morning you’d find the bed cold. Simon has his share of nightmares, but he always comes back to bed. To you. It has become increasingly concerning as you would wake up alone. You miss him bringing tea for you in bed.

Another thing you noticed was his temper. You would get short answers, in clipped tones, no matter what you try to say to him, so in the end you say nothing. The silence was unbearable, he would sometimes just leave in the middle of the day and come back the next morning.

You thought he had found someone else, but you don’t dare bring it up.

Looking into his eyes, you don't recognise the man behind those razor-sharp stares of his. There used to be warmth and kindness in them, a protectiveness in his gaze, a look that made you recognise him in an instant even when he’s wearing a mask to cover the lower half of his face. Now you can’t even find him in a grocery store even when he has his whole face uncovered. You don’t know how he does it. Simon is a towering mass of muscle but he seems to blend easily with his surroundings, and you had trouble finding him even though he was in front of you.

He came to confront you when you started to fall asleep on the sofa more often.

“Not enough for you anymore, aren’t I?” 

“What?”

He didn’t even bother to sit down, just stood there as you as you sat comfortably in a bundle of blankets. 

“You don’t even come to bed anymore.” His voice is quiet, but you hear the acid bite underneath.

“You don’t even stay in bed Simon.” There's newfound bravery in your voice, founded in anger, but an exhausted attempt at one.

“I always wake up earlier than you.”

You roll your eyes. You can see him clenching and unclenching his gloved fist. There's a flash of fear he’s just looking to escalate this to just for a reason to kill you. “Yes. But you don’t stay. You don’t even make me tea anymore, Simon.” The words came out of your mouth faster than you can process it, “Why don’t we just take a break from each other?”

( ghost's pov )

[buzzkillzine]

18/9/22

So yesterday my girlfriend, sister and I went to the Daniel Johns Exhibition in Melbourne and it was amazing.

It's hard to explain how much Daniel Johns and his music has had an impact on my life.

There are certain memories you have as a child that you distinctively remember. So many of mine are tied to music and in particular Silverchair. I've written before how I got into music but for a quick recap it went like this: car trips with mum listening to Neil Diamond, The Seekers and Golden Oldies on her way to work, me finding rage and recovery on TV and coming across the film clip for Freak by Silverchair. It was the absolute coolest thing I'd ever seen. Who were this band? How does his guitar sound like that? How do they look so cool and why aren't they wearing suits like Athol Guy did on the cover if the Seekers cassette?

Well the answers were: Silverchair, it's distortion, and it's called fashion... look it up.

I very soon became completely obsessed with Silverchair. I had memorised the time it would come on rage (it charted well and stayed in a similar spot for ages) and would make sure I watched the clip every week (it was pre-youtube and before I could work the VCR so I had to wait for it to come on TV).

The whole band looked amazing! Long hair! Eyebrow piercing! Are you fucking kidding me?  If only I could be a cool as THEM!

For weeks I would wait and watch this song every week. Then one day, coming up to my Dads birthday, Mum asked me to come and have a secret conversation about something she had in a small black plastic bag...

'Do you know if Dad likes this band?' And she slid out a copy of Freak Show by Silverchair on CD. I had no idea what it was. It wasn't Neil Diamond's Hot August Nights on cassette. What is this weird square. 'It's a CD of Silverchair. It has their songs on it.'

Holy shit! Do you mean to tell me that if we put this in a machine Im not allowed to use that I can hear my favourite song... whenever I want?

My mind was blown. For once I couldn't wait for someone ELSE to have a birthday.

The day of Dads birthday came and he put the CD on and I listened to the whole thing and let it wash over me like a warm bath of distorted guitar, loud thumping drums and pumping bass. I had never heard anything like it. It felt like it connected all the synapses in my brain together. I had found the sound that I never knew existed up until now but always wanted to hear. Amazing stuff.

For the next few years I listened almost exclusively to Freak Show. I memorised the whole thing, every guitar note, every word, every cymble crash. I would listen to the album in my head on car trips (I never had a portable cd player cos we were poor).

This actually came in handy decades later when I had to have an MRI that would take 45 minutes. The nurse asked if I wanted any music put through the headphones they make you wear. I didn't have Spotify or any music on my phone at the time so in my brain I just listened to Freak Show and surprisingly it was all still in there. For that 45 minutes I wasn't laying uncomfortably in a giant metal humming tube taking intricate pictures of the veins in my hand, but rather transported back to sitting in the lounge room on a comfy chair with Freak Show on my headphones and looking and the weird and wonderful 'freaks' on the album art.

It's a great album and only hints at the genius talent behind it.

I'll wrap this entry up here but I'm definitely going to come back and write more about Daniel Johns because he's amazing.

In the meantime, go and check out the exhibition in Melbourne if you can. It's incredible as is the man behind it.

[mandoalorian]

Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 8

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - reader confronts her abusive ex boyfriend.

Author’s note: ANGST! Mention of an abusive relationship although I've tried to gloss over it as much as I can. Sorry this chapter was a long time coming. I'm so happy that people are enjoying Sugar and Spice.

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER EIGHT - NEXT

"I think," Maxwell swallowed. "No. I know. I know that I've fallen deeply in love with you."

You swore your heart stopped at his revelation. Hand still cupping his cheek, you looked deep into his glazed, honey brown eyes and saw nothing but the truth. The man who had rounded his career on lies and greed loved you. You felt your throat dry up, searching for words but not knowing what to say. Maxwell looked at you too, his soft eyes beginning to cross in bewilderment when you didn't say a word. He wished so desperately that you'd say something, anything. The last person Maxwell Lord said 'I love you' to, was his father. You couldn't leave him hanging.

You wanted to say it back, you wanted to so desperately tell him the truth— that you loved him too, because, you did. You hadn't confronted your feelings, you hadn't realized it fully until faced with your current situation. But now everything made sense. The jealousy, the lust, the need for affection and the want to be cared for.

Fate brought you both together. Running from an abusive relationship, getting almost kicked out of your apartment, and finding yourself in the expansive office of Maxwell Lord the IV. You thought you were going for an assistant position but instead you found yourself as his sugar baby and now… now this only complicated everything.

"Max," you whispered and he closed his eyes slowly, one final year falling down his cheek. Your gaze flicked between him and the almost finished bottle of whiskey on his desk. He'd been drinking at the gala and he'd been drinking when he got home therefore it was for certain that Maxwell was not in the right state of mind at all. "Do you want to go to bed?"

"You don't love me," Maxwell tried to ask but it came out as an embarrassing croak. "Of course you don't." He regretted the words immediately after they fell from his lips. He was so sure that he had ruined everything and things would never be the same again.

What was wrong with you? No matter how much you wanted to tell him you just couldn't. "Max," he admired the way his name fell from your soft lips. You continued to smooth his hair out of his face and he hummed in contentment, his eyes still closed. "You're so sleepy. Please, let me take you to bed." you whispered and Max barely moved. You called his name one more time and he opened his eyes the slightest. You pulled him up and wrapped an arm around his body. Despite him being much bigger than you, you somehow managed to navigate the drunk and hurting man the corridor and into his master bedroom. He slumped onto his king sized bed and you gently tucked him under the blankets. He mumbled something incoherent, reaching out and making grabby fists. He wanted you.

"Lay with me," he mumbled, trying to pull you down on top of him. You wanted to but you weren't even sure if you could stay at the penthouse after his revelation. You hadn't even shared a bed with Maxwell, and now suddenly he was requesting that you lay with him?

"I have to go." you whispered, running your fingers through his hair and pushing his bangs out of his face.

"No." he mumbled, but he was already half sleep. You planted a gentle kiss on his forehead before stepping back.

You had genuine trouble trying to process what just happened and why it happened. Maxwell trusted you. He shared with you a family secret that nobody else knew, and all because he was in love with you. You were perplexed.

Before you could leave his bedroom, you were greeted with your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a mess, your ballgown was ruined and your makeup was tear stained. You padded into Maxwell's closet and took out one of his shirts and tailored suit pants. That man desperately needed to get a pair of normal casual clothes and fast. You tried them on, not minding the way they fit your body. You could've gone all out, finding a belt or a pair of suspenders to clip onto the light grey pants, but you decided against it. You pushed your hair out of your face and padded into the en-suite to wash your face. You didn't look much better, and you figured you probably just need a good night sleep. At least this way, no one would recognise you. You were almost certain the press would still be walking the streets looking for you and Maxwell. You actually kinda liked wearing Max's clothes, although there was no doubt in your mind that they looked better on him than you.

The streets were freezing and filled with thick snow. You regretted not taking one of Maxwell's suit jackets or warm winter coats but nevertheless you shivered all the way home. Your feet were like bricks of ice by the time you got back to your apartment. As you walked up the flights of stairs, digging into your purse for your keys, you were greeted with an unwelcome visitor. Tristan.

"Maxwell Lord," he deadpanned, standing in front of your door. You paused, looking at him hesitantly. "What the fuck do you think you're playing at?" Tristan snarled.

"What do you mean?" you asked innocently.

"You were on national television!" Tristan accused. "You and him, and a bunch of other snobby business pricks. Bruce fucking Wayne too… and the president!"

You rolled your eyes. "Tristan, it's late. Please move so I can enter my apartment and go to bed." You reached out to press your key into the lock when Tristan's large hand grabbed your wrist, his fingernails digging into your skin. You winced, trying to flinch back but he wouldn't let go, and suddenly the memories came flooding back. "Tristan," you gritted out. "Fucking let me go."

"I sold your apartment." Tristan spat.

"What?" you gasped, tears filling your eyes. "But I paid rent!"

"You're fucking around with Maxwell Lord, aren't you?" He growled.

"Who I fuck around with is none of your business! Now. Let. Me. Go." you tried pulling yourself away from Tristan but his grip around you only tightened. You squealed when he slammed you into the door. "You're going to wake the neighbours." You hissed trying desperately to keep your cool. You didn't want to seem weak. You weren't weak. You had this under control.

"Let's go somewhere more private then." Tristan smirked, dragging you unwillingly to his own apartment and locking the door behind him. "Now you tell me right now what the fuck is going on between you two."

"Or what?" You snapped back. "What the hell are you gonna do?"

"Is he your boyfriend?" Tristan quizzed.

"He's a friend." you glared at him, backing away everytime he took a step bearing you.

"A friend," Tristan repeated with a scoff of disbelief. "Just like you said on television."

You wondered how much of the gala and the interview outside had been televised but now wasn't the time to ask questions. You knew Maxwell had the power to rid you of Tristan. If he knew about the awful things Tristan had done to you and the way he had hurt you… well, Tristan may as well have had a death wish.

"Jesus Christ Tristan can you just let me go home?" you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

"I knew you were struggling with rent. I knew you had been laid off from work and it's Christmas coming up… if you had just told me you were struggling I would've made a negotiation." Tristan shook his head shamefully. "But no."

"Negotiate?" you questioned in disbelief. "You're a fucking manipulator!"

"And you're a fucking whore!" Tristan screamed, towering over you, his cheeks turning bright red with rage. "You know, I really didn't think you had it in you. Fucking around with some big CEO who thinks he's a hotshot."

"And what are you supposed to be?" you exhaled shakily, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. His words stung. "Maxwell… he cares about me. You never gave a shit about me."

"You think he cares about you? You seriously think Maxwell Lord cares about anyone other than himself?" Tristan barked. "He has you wrapped around your finger. I thought you were smarter than this."

"You don't know him the way I do." you smiled bravely. Fuck, you really did love him. And you needed him now more than ever. You knew that he was just a phone call away and if you told him you were in danger he would come running to rescue you with his whole team of security. If only you had just stayed with him. If only you had just decided to lay next to him, curled up in his arms in his warm bed.

"So you are fucking him?" Tristan scrunched his nose up and looked at you with disgust. He double checked the door was locked and put his key in his pocket before walking over to his bedroom. "You can sleep on the floor like the whore you are." Tristan laughed before going into his bedroom and shutting the door.

Once he was gone, you were left standing in the middle of your ex boyfriend's apartment feeling small and helpless. You didn't know what to do or where to go. You didn't even have Maxwell's number memorised so you couldn't call him. You let the tears free fall as you glanced between the locked door and the windows that you knew you couldn't squeeze out of even if you tried. You were trapped in a place that has brought back so much fear, and you didn't know what to do. You didn't know what tomorrow would hold.

You could barely sleep, the December cold hanging over your body like an icicle. You would give anything to be in the warmth of Maxwell's penthouse. God, you'd give anything just to be with Maxwell. You needed him.

The next morning, Maxwell woke up groggy, and his butler, Kenneth, was already waiting by his bed holding a platter of French toast, cup of black coffee and a glass of water. "Good morning sir," he greeted. "Your hangover breakfast, as requested."

Maxwell rubbed his eyes and shuffled upwards in bed as Kenneth placed the silver tray on his lap. It smelled delicious but he couldn't help but wish you were there to share it with him. He imagined you laying next to him in bed, giving him sleepy kisses while Kenneth presented you with your favourite breakfast meal; waffles and berries. The perfect life.

That's when Maxwell remembered. He practically three the breakfast on the floor and dived out of bed, still in his clothes from the night before. He caught a glimpse of your gala gown in the entryway of his closet and his heart sank in his chest. The memories came flooding back. He told you he loved you, but he didn't remember you saying it back.

"Have you seen Y/N?" Maxwell asked hurriedly, trying to weigh up what time you must have left. He quickly tore open his shirt and grabbed a clean one out of the closet.

Kenneth stood there awkwardly watching his boss work up a frenzy. "Uh no sir," he replied. "So I gather you won't be eating breakfast?" Kenneth's gaze flicked from Maxwell to the mess of French toast and spilled coffee that was sure to stain the cream coloured carpet.

"Shit no, sorry Kenneth. Could you call Jeeves and have him drive me to her apartment? I have to see her." Maxwell asked as he buttoned up the top of his dress shirt.

"Right away sir, but there's something I think you must see first." Kenneth swapped out the usual business newspaper that Maxwell would read for a glossy red-top tabloid magazine.

"You know I don't read that bullshit." Maxwell sighed, quickly combing his hair and trying his best to style it into place given the stressful circumstances. He wasn't going to forget to spritz his cologne either.

"Sir…." Kenneth drew out again, flashing the cover in Maxwell's direction. Maxwell caught a glimpse of it and his heart stopped. Front page was an image of you trending through the thick snow in the dead of night wearing Maxwell's clothes. The headline was explicitly disgusting, shaming you in every way possible. Maxwell's lips parted as he drunk in your appearance and he was horrified as he read the mean words the journalists had wrote about you.

"She cannot see this. I want you to buy every copy of this god forsaken tabloid and have them all destroyed. You understand?" Maxwell ordered, slamming his black business credit card into the chest of Kenneth. "Get the rest of the house staff to help you and do it fast."

"No worries sir," Kenneth smiled. "Jeeves is waiting for you outside."

Maxwell nodded appreciatevely as he tied his shoelaces. "Thanks."

"Sir?" Kenneth asked timidly.

"Yeah?" Maxwell asked, semi breathless.

"When you're with her, I see your face light up. I see the same happiness in you that I once saw in your father." Kenneth admitted and Maxwell's heart blossomed at the comparison. "When you get her, please don't ever let her go."

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added)!

December Magic: @100layersofdaddyissues @mrschiltoncat @thisisthe-wayson @this-cat-is-dea @blonde2bomshell @maiyaaaa0130 @autumnleaves1991-blog @justanotherblonde23

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth

[panevanbuckley]

You already know who I’m gonna ask for! BradRay for the domestic ship ask?!

ahh yes you know me too well!! sorry this took so long to answer, i am but a dumb, gay procrastinator fighting the feral urge to (yet again) become bradray trash 💜

who reaches out to new neighbors:

ray. but like, in an obnoxious way? he just talks shit to anybody okay. neither of them actually go out of their way to introduce themselves to their neighbours though (especially not anyone new). ray moved in with brad at the house he'd lived for ages and it's not until almost a year after THAT that they finally learn the names of the elderly couple living next door

who remembers to buy healthy food:

brad. ray is junk food all the way. brad tries to at least treat his body with some amount of respect (as he tells ray daily). although ray has a strange love for fruit and makes sure to buy a different one each time they do the groceries (one week he brings home tomatoes and brad bitches about then not being 'real fruit', leading to one of ray's infamous rants. brad wins, kinda, when he makes ray use the tomatoes in a fruit salad)

who remembers to buy junk food:

oh ray. no doubt about it! he has hoards of junk food stashed in all kinds of crazy places (cupboards, the bathroom cabinet, under the mattress...brad even found a snickers bar tucked by a damn plant pot). brad can't complain though because half of the treats are shit he loves - and, yes, ray bought it specifically for brad because he's, not-so-secretly, head-over-heels in love with him

who fixes the oven when it breaks:

ray! okay, this one was legitimately a toss up for a second there because i always imagine brad in his garage fixing his bike up so immediately went to say him but like...mechanics is a whole other playing field compared to kitchen appliances. which ray tells him. brad CAN fix the oven, he knows how to, but ray is just better at that shit and that's just the facts. besides, why would brad stress himself out fixing it when he could watch ray getting sweaty and dirty, shirtless with a tatty toolbelt clipped to his low-hanging jeans?!

who waters the plants/feeds their pet(s):

ray. ray has an obsession with house plants, particularly cacti - which he names. brad, on the other hand, is utterly hopeless when it comes to plants. before ray moved in, there was one flower pot on the kitchen windowsill and that was a gift from his sister. it was a fake plant. ray is also just more of an animal person than brad so he never forgets to feed their cat. brad is the one who sneaks her little bits of his own dinner

who wakes up earlier:

brad. he's a marine through and through, his body naturally wakes up at 6am on the dot, ready for his usual morning run. ray used to be like that but ever since he left the marines, he prefers to sleep in (unless he has class/work)

who makes the bed:

both of them. but only when they really have to. they're both messy okay, it's their house and their bedroom so why should they force themselves to keep it all tidy and neat?! that's their arguement when poke accidentally walks into their bedroom on his search for the bathroom

who makes the coffee:

they both do! they're coffee addicts and have long since memorised exactly how the other likes their coffee

who burns breakfast:

ray is surprisingly a great cook; he used to help his mom growing up, so it's rare he has any mishaps in the kitchen. brad however? yeah, brad can't cook anything but the basics. one time he tries to surprise ray by whipping up pancakes for breakfast and managed to stick the first one to the pan until it was nothing more than a crisp. ray found it hilarious, naturally

how do they let each other know they’re leaving the house:

ray shouts absurdly loud no matter where brad is in the house, shit-eating grin no doubt plastered to his face. brad prefers to find ray and loop his arms around his neck, kissing his cheek with a whispered "see you later"

how do they greet each other when one of them gets home:

ray 100% tackles brad no matter what he's doing. napping mapping the couch? he gets the wind knocked out of him when ray jumps on top of him. on a video call with family? think again; he has ray clinging to him like a sloth as he takes over the conversation. trying to work out? okay well obviously ray is gonna have to kiss him breathless. brad is more normal. he'll shout that he's back and then get on with his stuff, only wrapping ray up into a hug and planting a kiss to his hair when he finally comes across him

who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often:

neither of them are huge on this BUT, that being said, once brad finds out about ray's love of little plants he gets into the habit of buying cute cacti if he finds them in a shop

who picks the movie for movie night:

both of them! they have pretty similar taste in movies (unlike music) so there's not really any arguments on that matter

their favourite kind of movie to watch:

shitty or cliché action/comedy movies! collateral damage, top gun, fast and furious, pacific rim, the matrix...that sort of stuff. they're also both guilty of quoting these movies ridiculously well, to the point that their friends (if they're with them whilst watching) will start complaining about how they didn't come to hear their dumb fucking voices talk over the whole damn movie

who first suggests a pillow fort:

ray! he LOVES pillow forts and always wants brad to let him build one

who builds the pillow fort:

they do it together okay, two heads are better than one. brad is good with the structure side of the pillows, ray is great with the adding blankets into the mix

who tries to distract the other during the movie:

brad. because he's secretly a little shit. it'll start with making stupid comments, then he'll throw his arm casually around the back of the couch, sneaking closer to ray before finally peppering kisses up his neck. ray, depending on how into the movie he is, will either swat at him to get off or just give in completely

who falls asleep first:

ray. he sleeps everywhere. and if he's next to brad, snuggled up close to his own personal human radiator, then he has no chance of not drifting off to sleep. brad finds it endearing as fuck

who is big spoon/little spoon:

RAY IS THE LITTLE SPOON!!!

domestic ship headcanons

[brelione]

Endgame(Kiara Carrera X Reader)

Request:with kie with a like super rich kook SO and bringing them to meet the rest of the pogues and they all expect to hate them but then not

Kiara had never liked you.Well, she had never reallly met you.She kind of just assumed you were a bitch.You were what Sarah Cameron thought she was, you came from a ridiculously rich family.

Your mother was a brain surgeon and your father was a famous actor so that obviously meant that you were ridiculously rich.Kie had done a lot of research on you, finding your name on your fathers wikipedia page and from there finding your blog where you posted videos of him behind the scenes and personal interviews with him on your youtube channel.

She was up for 16 hours straight watching all of your videos, memorising your intro song.You had a good one million subscribers, posting a lot of blogs and videos showing things that you had found on the beach.She would blush and giggle at your little comments.

 “Hey, beautiful people!Its your bitch and today im gonna show you guys my new surf board because my old one got broke on an accident.I mean, my wrist also broke so if you were gonna comment on it, trust me.I definitely noticed.So before I get into this video I just want to talk about mental health really quickly.”You paused to take in a quick breath, speaking a bit too fast.

Theres a new suicide game and its getting across social media really quick so please do me a favor and stay safe.It doesnt matter what the problem is now, its only temporary and suicide is a permanent solution.I linked some suicide hotlines and free therapy sources in the description so please just keep yourselves healthy and happy for me, okay?Okay, cool.”You licked your lips, calming down from the quick rant.

“Also drink some fucking water!Its hot out and I almost passed out the other day and make sure you get a snack because this video is already fifteen minutes long and im probably gonna be ranting for another hour.”You grinned at the camera.

Kiara bit into a carrot stick, her knees on her chest as she sat in the recliner of her living room. “Watching another documentary?”Her mother asked, noticing that her daughter hadnt moved in hours.Kie shrugged, focusing on you as you dropped your surfboard. “This is exactly how I broke the first one-fuck!”You laughed, picking it back up.

Eventually the boys started to spam her phone, interrupting her binge watching.She left her house with a sigh, walking out to the dock and waiting for the pogues.Thats when she heard your voice.It was quiet as you walked, wearing white jeans and a light blue button up shirt.

 “So you guys always ask me to show you the beach that I find all of my seashells at so thats what we’re-”You paused, looking over to Kiara.She quickly looked away, pretending to be busy on your phone. “Sorry guys, I just saw a really pretty girl.”You whispered to your phone, continuing your walk.

From there she finally worked up the courage to talk to you.She couldnt simply message you on instagram, you had hundreds of thousands of followers so her dm would get lost with all the others.

So she found her prettiest outfit and walked to your house, knocking on the door.You looked at her through the camera of your doorbell, knowing that you had seen her before.You set down your lap top as you were editing, going to answer the door. 

“Hi...um...hi.”She laughed, not planning on getting this far. “Hi, um...what’s up?”You cringed at your words. “Nothing much.I just live a block away and I just thought id say hi...im sorry.”She laughed again, becoming more anxious.

 “Its fine!So um...I dont know, do you wanna maybe hang out sometime?”You asked, leaning against your doorway.She licked her lips, trying her best not to blush. “Yeah, yeah ok.Um...could I get your number?”She asked, holding her phone.

You nodded, giving her your phone number and telling her to text you whenever.Once the door was closed and she had left you were a squealing mess on your couch, recording. 

“So you guys know that pretty girl I was talking about that I saw?Yeah so I just got her number and im low key freaking out-oh god lets just hope she doesnt watch my channel!”You laughed before finishing the editing process, uploading it to youtube.

Kiara got the notification while she was washing her face, watching the video and absolutely losing her mind.She buried her face in her pillow, squealing before deciding to text you.

Unknown number:hey!Its Kiara.Do you wanna hang out tomorrow?

You smiled, letting out a sigh.You screenshotted it, knowing that it would be fun to look back at in the future.

You:Sounds good!Do you want to come over and we can get coffee or lunch or something?

Kie:Okay!!12?

You:Works for me :)

Kie:Okay!

You were anxious the whole night, trying to figure out what to wear.You couldnt decide, posting a poll on your instagram.They decided that you’d be wearing a dark green romper and sandals.You went to bed early since you’d have to wake up before afternoon, heart pounding.

When you woke up it was eleven and you were already behind, hopping in the shower quickly, drying your hair and brushing it, trying to get it to a soft texture.You didnt want to look like you were trying too hard, deciding not to use all of the hair products you’d usually put in your hair before a meeting or a date.

You got into your outfit quickly, pinning your pin back with bobby pins so you could moisturize your face, grabbing your box of beads and parting your hair.You braided the two groups of hair that framed your face, intertwining the beads along the way, securing it with an elastic.

You sighed, twisting a golden flower ring onto your pinkie before going down stairs to sit in your large living room, waiting for Kiara.Your doorbell alerted you to motion outside, getting excited when you saw Kiara walking up to your front door.

She was wearing a pink tube top, light washed jeans with her hair half up and half down, bracelets hugging her wrists.You got up, answering the door the second she rung the bell. “Hi.”You smiled, phone in your pocket.

 “Hi.”She smiled back, looking up and down at you.The two of you got into your car, you driving as you started your drive to a cafe. “So how are you?”You asked, realising you knew nothing about her. “Im good, what about you?”She asked, hands in her lap. “I was up all night editing which obviously sucked but you know, it is what it is.”You replied, biting your lip.

She smiled, knowing she’d end up watching the video. “Editing what?Like an edits account on instagram?”She asked, cringing at how stupid it sounded.You shook your head, slowing down once you got to the main road, searching for a parking spot.

 “No, I have a youtube channel.I kind of just post random shit and hope for the best.”You answered, pulling up next to the cafe.She nodded, turning to look at you. “That’s cool, what kind of stuff do you post?”She asked, resting her chain against her palm.

You bit your lip, glancing over at the cafe. “I post a lot of interviews and random videos of my dad and sometimes he’ll take me to a set with him and i’ll take videos with the cast.I got to meet Scarlet Johannson so thats cool.”You replied, unbuckling your seatbelt.She grinned.

 “Thats fucking awesome-were they in a movie together?”She asked, wanting to hear you talk more. “A show thats coming to Netflix soon, its kind of like a murder mystery meets greek mythology and my dad plays Zeus.We should watch it together.”You answered.

The car was cool but you felt hot, probably because her eyes were focused on you.She nodded, liking the idea of hanging out with you more. “That’d be awesome.”The two of you went inside, the barista grinning at you.

She had always liked you and liked showing up in your vlogs when you came in to get your coffee with boba.She looked to the unknown girl beside you, a small pout on her face. “What can I get for you ladies?”She asked, already preparing your coffee. 

“What do you want, Kie?”You asked, moving aside so she could see the menu. “Uhhh….whats a green frappe?”She asked, squinting at the menu. “Oh-its like a blended matcha latte with like mint and vanilla.It's really good.”You explained.

The two of you sat with your drinks, Kiara laughing as you stabbed the boba bubbles at the bottom of your cup. “You know whats cool?These straws are made of hemp plastic so its-”She cut you off before you could finish.

 “Biodegradable?”She asked.You nodded, glad someone finally knew what you were talking about. “Yeah!And the company is awesome, they have like 10% of sales going to help the Amazon rain forests and another 10% going to help clean the ocean.”You smiled, taking a sip of coffee.

The afternoon had ended with the two of you on the beach, taking photos of eachother discretely while you finished your drinks, searching for sea glass and watching the sun set.Kiara was freaking out on the inside, knowing that she was pretty much dating a celebrity.

It didnt take long after that first day for her to start showing up in your videos.You held your camera as you two walked down the beach, her hand holding yours and twirling you every once in a while, flashing a smile to the camera. 

“So we’re currently on our way to a place that Kie will not tell me about because shes rude.”You spoke, turning the camera to face you.Kiara simply laughed, placing her chin on your shoulder. “Uh...no its because im good at planning surprises.”She answered, grinning when you gasped.

Two surfboards were on the sand along with a blanket and a basket full of fruits, veggies and sandwiches.You cut the camera, giggling and pulling her into a kiss. “Love you.”She grinned, giggling.

 “Love you too.”You replied, looking down at the boards.It didnt take long for the two of you to be in only your swimsuits, grabbing the boards and heading towards the water.You clipped the camera to your board, making sure it was secure before stating to film, catching a few good waves on camera before focusing more on Kie.

 “There she is, showing off for you guys.”You zoomed in on Kiara as she rode the wave, twisting her body to get a beautiful spin on the dark blue wave.She disappeared under the water, resurfacing with a smile and hair on her face, swimming towards you.

 “Did you see that?”She asked, a proud smirk tugging at her lips.You nodded. “How could I miss it?”You asked, earning an eye roll from your girlfriend. “Shut up.”She splashed you, letting out a loud laugh when you splashed back at her.

Turning off the camera, laying on your stomachs against your boards, holding hands so you wouldnt drift away from eachother.It was heaven. “So...ive been thinking lately.”She started, a nervous look on her face.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. “And I think I want you to meet my friends.”She tapped her fingernails against your surfboard, waiting anxiously for your answer.She had told the boys all about you.

About how you had a huge following on youtube, how your dad was an actor and how you lived in the biggest house on figure eight.She had tried her best to tell them that you werent like the others, that you were fantastic and humble.

But of course they didnt believer her and ‘would believe it when they saw it’.She knew that if she didnt end up introducing you to them sooner or later that she’d lost the chance to introduce you at all.

You nodded, considering it. “Yeah, okay.When?”You asked, hoping you’d at least have time to think about this. “Tomorrow.”She replied, wincing when you let out a small shout. “Tomorrow?Shit-Kie, im not ready!”You exclaimed, covering your mouth when you realised how loud you had been. 

“Babe, chill.Let me pick out your outfit and it’ll be fine.”She insisted.You gave in, the two of you paddling back to the sand, wrapping up in your towels and sitting on the blanket, eating some cutie oranges.

She spent the night at your house, holding on tight to you even though the two of you were in a king sized bed and she had more than enough space to spread out like a starfish.

The morning came too fast, Kiara raiding your closet for something appropriate for the occasion, pleased when she came across a black bathing suit and a yellow shirt along with some jeans, tossing them at you. 

“Babe, you gotta get up.”She told you, already dressed and ready to go.You groaned, finally getting up a few minutes later, slowly changing and not even bothering to pick up your pajamas.You were still sore from last night, stretching your limbs as you pulled the jeans up your body.The boys were spamming her phone, making her annoyed.

Dumb Blonde:Where are you guys

God:Are you bringing them with you

Trash Rat:Dont bring them with you 

Trash Rat:The place is a mess

Trash Rat:Kie

Trash Rat:Kiara

Trash Rat:Kiara Madelyn Klark Carrera

God:Where are you guys

Dumb Blonde:Wait are they the one with the dad that was in that one movie

She ignored their texts, turning off her notifications and sending you a quick smile, promising to get you an iced coffee on the way.You were half asleep in the passengers seat until she handed you a french vanilla iced coffee, slowly becoming awake.

By the time you had finished your coffee she had pulled into John.B’s drive way, hand on your thigh in attempts to calm you down. “You’re gonna be fine, babe.Everyone likes you, they just havent met you yet.”She grinned, getting out of the car.

You squeezed her hand, following her into the house.The boys were all sitting on the couch, looking up once the two of you had entered.JJ immediately looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow.You felt a bit insecure, trying to figure out what he thought of you.

 “This is (Y/N).(Y/N), these are the boys.Thats John.B, thats JJ and thats Pope.”She pointed to each of the boys.The tension in the room was ridiculous until Kiara pulled you into her lap, the boys looking between eachother. “So whats it like having a movie star as a dad?”JJ asked, the first one to speak up.

You bit your bottom lip, pulling at the skin on your hands. “umm...its really cool sometimes.Chris Hemsworth is a family friend so thats cool but like...I cant go anywhere with him when he’s home without getting followed around and there was this one teenage girl stalking him once and she was climbing our house and was watching me sleep.”You answered, relieved when you heard Pope chuckle. 

“Wait, actually?Thats so scary.”He replied, the two of you beginning to calm down a bit.You, John.B and JJ were all conversating about Chris Hemsworth, all of them asking a lot of questions.

 “Wait-who else have you met from the Avengers?”John.B asked. “I met Scarlet Johanson and Chris Evans.”You replied.Kiara smacked your leg. “You met Christ Evans and never told me?”She asked, outraged.

You rolled your eyes, pulling out your phone to show them the vlog that Chris had made an appearance in.Kiara was just confused as to why she had never seen it before you informed her that it was private. 

“Ew-ignore my face.Just wait a few seconds.”You told them, the phone between the circle that had ended up forming. “Oh my god!Its Chris Evans!”JJ shouted, staring at the phone.Chris had leaned over your shoulder, saying a quick ‘hello’ to the camera before Scarlet stole it from you. 

“This is Scarlet Johannson and I have decided to take over my new role as (Y/N)’s mom.Im sorry (Y/M/N) but they’re mine now.”She smiled.Her hair had been dyed a light blonde, red lipstick and light eyeshadow.

You had been freaking out the whole time. “Wait-will you ever see her again?”JJ asked.You hummed, sure that she’d be making an appearance for a Christmas Party. “Can you tell her I love her, please?”He asked, face red. “She reaches my vlogs-do you guys want to be in one?”You offered, remembering that you had your camera in your bag.

They all agreed, excited as you took out your camera, Kiara holding onto you. “So Kiara introduced me to her friends today and JJ has a special message for Scarlet.”You grinned, pointing the camera towards him. “Marry me, please.”He winked, giggling.

Pope flashed a peace sign at the camera, John.B sticking out his tongue and doing finger guns. “This is John.B and this is Pope, and then we have Kie as always.”You pointed the camera at her.She bit her lip, winking at the camera and making you laugh.

 “Oh my god- what is this vlog.”You shook your head, turning off the camera.When you had posted the vlog that night you were spammed with comments demanding JJ’s instagram and of course you had to give the people what they wanted.

JJ was more than happy to have a ton of pretty girls hyping him up in his comments, Pope getting a lot of attention as well.Scarlet had made sure to let you know that she had watched it and to tell JJ that he was too young for her but she was flattered by the offer.But then your instagram was being spammed.You were being tagged in dozens of edits of you and Kie along with one of you and JJ.But the comments on that one were so funny.

Kieand(Y/N)4life:bruh no

(Y/N)officialfanpage:no <3

(Y/N)officialfanpage:Kiara and them are meant to be bb

Kiara(Y/L/N):Kiara and them are meant to be buddy

KIEANDYNAREENDGAME:uhhh isnt it confirmed that Kiara and (Y/N) are dating?

“They’re catching on.”You told Kie, sitting down on the bed and showing her all the things you were tagged in.She grinned, telling you to post and make it official. “You sure?”You asked.She nodded, fixing her hair as you got ready to take a photo, kissing her cheek. She bit her lip, watching you type.

We are endgame.

@poguestyleskye  @jjtheangel @lovelyelinor @messuhp  @outerbongs  @copper-boom  @httpstarkey @teenwaywardasgardian @drewswannabegirl  @simonsbluee   @jiaraendgame  @khiaraaa-in-spacee  @on-socks-off  @abbiesthings @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @i-love-scott-mccall​

[hillbillied]

I'm about to be a basic bitch and ask for andyeddie for the domestic ship meme please and thank you?! 💜

fuck yeah you can, i want all of these!! and if this means we’re basic then call me bottom-line PH neutral, my dude - this is an andyeddie brain rot zone, you know this and i thank you so much for it!!

DOMESTIC SHIP MEME - AndyEddie

who reaches out to new neighbors

Andy. mr personality over here got it all. smooth voice, soft accent, award-winning smile. some neighbours take a while to even realise the tall, scary-looking guy in the blue pickup lives in the same house.

who remembers to buy healthy food

Andy, sort of. he buys a range but he does love his fresh fruit and veg. Eddie, on the other hand, shops simultaneously like he’s only got $5 and is on death row. not necessarily unhealthy just… bread. pasta. bacon. ready meal shit. bags of snacks. buy in bulk, Andy, it’s cheaper.

who fixes the oven when it breaks

Eddie, more practical knowledge from the machines. Andy would rather just call someone but has accepted just watching. (Eddie wears a dirty vest when he’s fixing it. got it tucked into his jeans with that big ol’ belt he wears and his tattooed arms are out so Andy just sips his drinks like cool, cool, please hurry up or this is going to turn into a bad porno.)

who waters the plants/feeds their pet(s)

Andy waters the plants because he loves his plants. he has a flowerbed when they get a garden but even in an apartment he had flowerpots on the windowsills; he loves gardening. (pet wise, when they get a dog, they both feed it. they share cleaning, though Eddie is more maintenance and Andy more cleaning.)

who wakes up earlier

Eddie. six in the morning, without fail. marine clock, baby, that shit will never die. (not without heavy drinking or an all-nighter anyway.)

who makes the bed

Eddie. because Andy’s shit at it. military-corners Eddie’s fucking ass; Andy’s terrible at keeping things tidy. he’s clean but he’s not neat.

who burns breakfast

Andy. Eddie is a great cook, he does deliciously simple comfort foods and he makes dinner every night. full-on stereotypical house-husband in that regard, because Andy’s the breadwinner of the two in the boring hetero sense. Andy can cook, as in he can follow instructions and not set the kitchen on fire, but he’s the only one who’ll burn anything.

how do they let each other know they’re leaving the house

Andy always kisses Eddie on the forehead. he’ll probably smooch him properly first – or worse, because he’s a a bastard, and will grab his ass before leaving – but he always marks that he’s actually leaving by kissing his forehead. he will go find Eddie specifically to give him his goodbye kiss.

Eddie shouts. hollers he’s going out in the shortest, blunted transfer of information. a grunted “Goin’ work” kind of deal. unless it’s spontaneous, he’ll also give Andy a kiss. it’s always on the lips and its chaste but heavy, pressing hard like he’s trying to remember the sensation. then he’ll get out of bed or grab his keys or go shower or whatever, and leave with a shout to mark him actually opening the door.

how do they greet each other when one of them gets home

Andy’s talkative. he’s “You have a good day?” or “You’ll never guess who turned up this afternoon!”. first one is default if nothing interesting’s happened. he wants to start a conversation, even if he talks and Eddie grunts. he doesn’t get up to greet; he knows Eddie will come find him and either sit down in his lap or come up behind him and wrap two strong arms around his waist. whatever suits, no rules

Eddie wanders out to meet Andy. he’ll come downstairs or walk into the entrance hallway. he’ll always have his arms folded, because he wants Andy to tell him what happened while he was out. (he doesn’t consider himself very interesting, yet he always wants to hear about the most basic shit Andy does.) normally he’ll add a “How was it?” or “Evenin’”. then he’ll wait because Andy usually answers him but not before he’s given him a greeting kiss.

who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often

both. Andy on the chocolates, Eddie on the flowers.

Andy knows the flavours Eddie enjoys and likes popping them into his mouth while Eddie berates him about wasting money. Andy buys things he thinks Eddie likes, but he also buys things Eddie needs and will not buy himself. lighters, jeans, shoes, wallets, picture frames, glasses cases. things that are worn down to the bone and need replacing. but also things like books and records.

Eddie’s a traditionalist, even if his reasoning might be a little tainted by heterosexual bullshit and toxic masculinity. he thinks flowers are beautiful, he knows Andy loves them, even memorised what kind he loves most, but there’s a-whole-nother level of gears in his mind about buying them. eventually he does because he desperately wants the ‘romance he can never have’. it’s a semi-special occasion the first time, like he’s picking Andy up from the station. he brings his bouquet and he looks way more uncomfortable holding it than Andy ever could be receiving it. (Andy, of course, is overwhelmed with joy. he puts them in the front window so everybody can see and he prunes them daily and he changes the water so they last longer and he plays with Eddie’s hair while looking at them and talks about how much he loves them. Eddie starts buying him flowers a fair bit after that.)

their favorite kind of movie to watch

I’ve been doing these for canon-era (1950s) so for that it’s any western movie and specifically The King and I. (they’re a couple of gays who love a good musical.) they don’t enjoy all the war movies, particularly since most of them are about Europe and are just completely surreal.

modern AU: shitty horror movies – they’ve seen every Final Destination and can rate them in order of ‘watchability’ – and 1990s classics like Jurassic Park and Jumanji, they’re simple guys.)

who first suggests a pillow fort

Andy. he secretly wants to give Eddie the childhood he’s certain, by piecing together a lot of clipped information, the man never had. so, he’ll make sure he’s already halfway down with it in the living room when Eddie comes home because then they might as well finish it and sleep there, right?

who builds the pillow fort

Andy starts it, Eddie watches and considers whether he’s going to participate. then Andy smiles at him and asks if he can help tie up a blanket to make one of the walls and yeah, Eddie’s building it too.

who tries to distract the other during the movie

Andrew Fucking Haldane. stupid fucking horny man does not have the attention span for movies. he’s impossible. luckily, he’s polite and will just entertain himself, running his hands up Eddie’s sides and kissing his neck even if Eddie himself wants to know whether Dorothy makes it to the Emerald City or not.

who falls asleep first

Eddie. in the marines, you have a time when you sleep and it is limited. he lays down, shuts his eyes, switches off his problems, and sleeps. dead to the world, he’ll be up at six. Andy doesn’t have trouble falling asleep usually but he can be known to lie awake and think too hard. Eddie’s occasionally found him downstairs reading the newspaper or pacing or sipping tea at the early hours when he’s really stressed. (and hiding it as best he can.)

who is big spoon/little spoon

both. Eddie will happily wrap himself around Andy protectively and just listen to the man talk. he’ll squeeze him tight and breathe deeply so Andy can feel it and simply let him know he’s there, he’ll keep them safe. when Andy’s the big spoon, he’ll kiss the back of Eddie’s neck and whisper in his ear and thread their fingers together. he tells Eddie that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be and how warm he feels and wonder what they’ll get up to tomorrow.  they also both like to come up behind each other for a standing-spoon, if you will.

coffee, junkfood, movie night pick ones here

[neo-shitty]

toffee!

hehe glad i could make you laugh, oooh that sounds awesome! yeah id love to be tagged it sounds great :)

YES the differences are so fucking weird. like, they do know they're the same age right? i feel like its just an exagguration of how much the persons role in the group matters, like we see chan being held up as such a mature, old leader while jungkook who is literally the same age, is still babied etc. like enha hyung line is basically the same age (if a bit younger) as chenle and jisung but somehow the rules are different?? as you point out, still legal but still bizarre. hehe yeah, i mean where else are we going to rant? quora lol. mmm, hopefully more people can just write less smut abt people who are barely adults

ah, no prob it didnt take long. yeah i think thats right (i keep forgetting you know my url lol) mmhmm :( i think if that happened irl there would be some major trauma going on. knock wood it never happens to you or me lol (/hj)

hehe same! oooh glad Redemption For Cheese was realised! yess we cant rllycomplain that theyve written/produced too much good music lol. yeah, ive dragged him into being a stay so *dusts hands off* mission accomplished. mmm yeah, they tend to have a certain vibe but tbh it couldve worked if they were any other group but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ahh ur one step ahead of me on the stages of listening to ssick i think, still not convinced but thats okay! hehe, it had to be said. yesss the itch in the back of my brain is very satisfied by sorry i love you, felixs vocals deserve to be appreciated! (side note i feel like hes trying to sing more like his speaking voice, sorta husky, but tbh i wouldnt be mad if he sang like in glow, his sweet honey vocals made my life lol. but i think ive heard him say he doesnt like singing like that cos it makes his normal voice less husky, so what can you do)

> YES SOMEONE SAID IT. seungmin rap KING, he sped thru that rap like it was nothing, he deserves more rap lines. i do like how they gave minho some melodic rap lines this comeback, my guy deserved to show off those skills that made him not be eliminated (flashbacks to stay collectively wanting to murder jyp) and we already know changbin can sing, my man murdered masked singer. hyunjin can obviously sing as can jisung and felix, and i want to hear chan rap more! i feel like he started as part of 3racha (as a rap unit not producing) and then just became a vocalist (which im fine with, but it could be nice to hear him flex his rapping skills) and was partially replaced by hyunjin. anywayyy

back to album talk. lmaooo sad music to twerk to PERFECTLY describes silent cry. yes secret secret is and will always be, a masterpiece. hehe glad i could make you laugh :) i just felt like they have similar vibes. putting off skz stuff bc of not having time to cry IS the kpop stan life summarised. oh my beloved track, red lights. ahh thats okay, we can have different opinions, but by god the lyrics are *chefs kiss*. *banging on table* TWISTED AU TWISTED AU TWISTED AU. yess id love to see ur take on it! sdfghjkl it would have been glorious

no no! not stupid, just able to predict my brainwaves. ooooh thats so cool! makes me want to go there (wherever there is lol) yeah the waves are pretty good here, but none of my familys a surfer, so we dont rlly enjoy the full potential lol. YES moving on to gone away, it is indeed a heartwrenching track, but the vocals and the bloody key change? makes me want to brave being sad just to listen to it. mmm yeah, good point :( i feel like ive just gotten used to overthinking so much so that it doesnt matter what mood im in, ill do it anyway, so might as well just do what i feel like doing anyway.

yeah i think ur right! it is quite comforting knowing that all the tracks will get the love they deserve. i feel like also people assume kpop is just one genre which is utter bs. there are so many different vibes and feels and songs, i couldnt get into kpop (of which i thought only the bright cheerful present day bts stuff existed smh) until i heard gods menu so... idk where i was going with this but yeah. :)

YES FUCK YG, theyre literally on the brink of being kicked out of the big three and they are holding their salvation hostage without letting them do ANYTHING. idek what thought process goes thru their minds but arghhh its so infuriating. yess lisa's cb will be awesome but ot4 is the gold standard here.

hehe, glad u could get to this point. no no! u dont sound like a cult member at all lol yeah, i loooove some of their songs but the whole 23 members thing is getting to me. thats prob a common problem with nctzens but what can i say? im a simple girl with a limit to how many korean boys i can give my money to. atm im just trying to get into ateez and finish memorising enhypen's faces. also kard is kinda sucking me into their fandom atm, as well as eric name lol. ah what can you do? ooh thats good!

hehe i love it too! its exactly like online penpals, that was rlly well put. aww ty! hmm im okay, recovering from a bad case of rsv so thats fun. im doing okay mentally, starting therapy soon (after having to convince my mother that its not just smth i can brush off). physically i wont go into, basically i should be doing stretches to help but they dont completely fix it so my lazy ass doesnt do them, plus i got told recently im going to be stuck with this condition for the rest of my life so thats fun! ah, before you type smth dw abt me ill be fine. the weather atm is cloudy but warm, its been raining on and off today which is good for the garden. uhh i just finished reading sunburnt veils and im in the middle of prom theory which is rlly good. ummm ive got a concert tonight? that i may or may not be able to sing in (bc of the whole rsv thingo) and uhhhh idk. my dog is cute? im drinking tea rn? ive got a school dance coming up?

wbu? hows ur day going, how are you? whats the weather like on ur end? done anything interesting lately? found smth that makes you rlly happy? just any random thing youve been dying to tell someone?

no no! dont apologise, i love these exchanges. i think im happy to continue them for a long time :) on the other hand, if you get tired of them, feel free to just not answer at any time. goodness gracious this was a long ask haha hope it isnt too annoying

<3 w.a. 🐺

sorry it took me a bit to reply, i was fixing my theme ;n;

yeah, i figured it was because of the roles too. my friends and i still get taken aback when 3rd gen idols are the same age as 4th gen ones. in my head it doesn't add up sometimes. PLS THE RANT AT QUORA SKJDK tbh tho it's just going to be normalized as the years pass? esp that the boys are growing older and the amount of explicit fics will just increase. i might have to start blocking tags.

i had to look up the previous ask to remember what we were talking about xd i hope the events in champagne problems never happens to anyone. realistically, it probably happens a lot. damn i really won't wish that pain on anyone. dragging your brother into being a stay i whEEZED JFKSA additional noeasy music enthusiast o.o and ALL I CAN SAY WITH YOU GUSHING ABT FELIX IS AHA WHIPPEEEED OML can't blame you tho, i also want to hear felix sing more in other shades (if that makes sense HAHA) i really hope they'll do the role exchange in the next comeback :( or like in the near future bc i know they can do it :( the day i hear seungmin rapping it i will respectfully pass away. minho was given more lines this comeback thank fUCK i could rmb my irl being vocal abt her frustration. i don't get why minho barely has center time/lines in title tracks??? like the line distribution in the past eras just made me ???? if seventeen can balance lines with 13 members why cant a group of 8 do the same? moving on. i haven't watched the stray kids show simply bc i don't want to cry HAJS but i've seen clips. imagine if skz debuted without minho and felix?!?!? i rmb another irl catching bias feels towards changbin bc of the masked singer only to find out that the man's a rapper. i love how skz's vocals were highlighted this comeback :c there were a lot of mellow tracks! i find it cute when chan sings/raps bc it gets kinda obvious that he's a foreigner? the accent (im not even sure if it's the accent) it just shows. "putting off skz stuff bc of not having time to cry IS the kpop stan life summarised." CORRECT.

abt the twisted au o.O i'll inquire my irl if she wants to write it or not. if she doesn't want to, i'll do it. i miss writing twisted aus <3___<3 and i also miss going to the beach with my friends :' ) but it's starting to get cold here and i don't think i'll be able to enjoy the beach as much as i would if i went beaching in the summer. so maybe next summer? gone away really has an sm-ballad vibe. the thing about skz being a self-producing group, their songs don't sound like typical jype songs? and i just appreciate that bc in all honesty im not a fan of jyp groups at all. PLS the overthinking. i wish i could mute overthinking.

anyone who assumes kpop is just one genre obv hasn't listened to a single track. if kpop was just one genre why do i like some tracks more than the others??? oh you've only recently become a kpop stan? tbh im not a fan of the bright songs of bts either. i liked their older ones *chefs kiss* really matched high school vibes. yg has good artists and they're just wasting the talent ~.~ that strategy they have will get tiring eventually. people will stop waiting on blackpink and move on to newer more active groups ://

HAHAHAH yeah the 23 members is pretty overwhelming! it was the reason i didn't bother stanning before quarantine started. i don't regret stanning tho, met my ult bias in that group <3___<3 i don't really purchase albums unless i like the tracks xd ohhh getting into ateez just in time for the comeback! let me know what you think about them! i was fond of them at some point but grew out of it. good luck with memorizing enhypen! it took me a while to distinguish to people there XD i haven't checked out kard yet but chan plays their songs during lives and they're sexc hype music me likey *u*

i had to look up rsv im sorry. i'm glad you're recovering! please rest more and don't stress yourself out. bro i wish i could go to therapy too bc i have weird issues i can't justify and i need a professional to tell me what's the reason behind it. stuck with what condition btw? what happened? i'm sorry in case i just forgot. yesterday was a bit rainy for me too :(( it's not the type of rainy that makes me anxious so B) oh concert! good luck and i hope you'll be able to sing but i also don't think it's best for you rn :c what's your dog's breed? and yes i just finished drinking tea too. AAAAA i miss school dances :(( the last one i was supposed to have was cancelled bc of covid.

i was less productive today and i'm teetering between being mentally stable and becoming a hermit again. i'm anxious with a lot of things atm so like : D not the best state. today it was a bit sunny but not hot hot which was nice. i changed my theme today bc i couldn't wait for sept. 1st. and no i haven't found anything that makes me happy HAHAHA shit like that's hard to identify. don't have anything to say too, i'm just thinking about why i'm procrastinating too much atm T_T and i'm listening to this rap song atm and one of the rappers sounded like han.

it isn't annoying! i enjoy the long exchanges but i do admit it takes me awhile to type down a reply. so if i get more busy, it'll prolly take a bit longer for me to reply.

[luvleekaotix-imagines]

Lucky (Reader x John Wick [-ish])

a/n: I accidentally vomited 2500+ words for something I didn’t think I’d vom for.  Anyway, take this and tell me what you think! No spoilers for any of the movies. This just exists at some point in time. Who knows.  https://youtu.be/gHAgXJhG4-o

So there you were, tied to a chair.

You could have gone over all the actions that lead you to this point, but there was no point. If you lived in your head 100% of the time, you wouldn’t have been a very successful—mercenary. You didn’t like to be called gun-for-hire or assassin because it didn’t encompass what you did. You did a little bit of everything.

Anyway—tied to chair. You wriggled your fingers to try and keep some feeling in them. You had to give it to your captors, sometimes people were dumb and didn’t think things through to keep you trapped. This time you were preeetty stuck.

“Why the fuck do you still look so relaxed?” The typical big buff dude was ordered to watch over you. The weird, antsy kind. You would have liked it better if he just paced around the room without saying anything, but he just had to run his dumb as fuck mouth.

You shrugged at his question. “I’m gonna be okay. I feel it in my jellies.” You smiled. Your instinct said that you’d be fine. When you were in life-threatening positions, something within you flared up and you used it fight viciously. But when you were calm, you knew something was going to happen in your favour. You were Lucky. You were known as Lucky for a reason.

Suddenly there were faint shouts, hints of chaos past the door. Oh, the timing. Beautiful! You looked the guard dead in the eye and grinned. He seemed spooked and with one last look at you, he turned to open the door and check what was happening outside—

—just to get a bullet right through his head and then another two in his chest for good measure. The guard fell to the ground with a loud thump, blood pooling around him. The door was only slightly opened, so you couldn’t see who had killed him, but it was kicked open before long.

Then you found yourself at the end of the gun that had killed the guard.

“Ah—” Your eyes widened as you recognised the wielder. “John!”

There was a pause before the gun was very carefully—partly—lowered. “Lucky.”

“Ohh, jackpot!” You wiggled in your chair in excitement. “Saved by the John Wick! My luck today, wow—hey, can you do me a solid and untie me? Please?”

You wondered if he would ever change, but you supposed he wouldn’t be John Wick if he changed so much you’d actually see or feel it. He was still dressed in a slick black suit, still gave you that suspicious once over with his dark gaze, still kept that gun trained on you as he stepped forward to cut the ropes that had kept you bound—though it was lowered fully when you were free.

You gave him a bright smile. “Thanks! I owe you.” There was no instinct to fight, but it still put you on edge to be in the presence of Baba Yaga. No one in the business would be foolish enough to let down their guard 100% around anyone in the business, let alone the John Wick. “So… Are you here for work?” Why else would he be in the building though? You gently massaged your wrists as you looked at the dead guard’s body. Something told you that he had something you needed.

John watched you walked past him and crouch down to rummage around the guard’s pockets. You were the same as always. He had no idea you were going to be in the building too. It was often problematic when two people in the business were working the same or similar jobs. In John’s experience, it would end up in a conflict of some kind.

You, however, were always a wild card. John had come up against you before, but out of all the assassins he’s had conflicts with before, you were one of the easiest to have a conflict with. Not because you weren’t threatening or weren’t capable, just because you were very honest. Many times you’ve walked away from a job and just waved your hands and admitted it wasn’t worth it. He could appreciate that honesty. Other times you were willing to off-handedly help out if it didn’t mean going out of your way.

He realised he hadn’t answered your question and replied with a simple, “Yeah.” There was more to it, but he didn’t have to explain it to you. What good would that be? It wasn’t any of your business.

“Thought so. Me too—but not a conflicting job.” You were still busy looking for whatever it was you were looking for, but then, “Oh! Lucky!” You suddenly stood up and held something out. A keycard. “This’ll make things a lot easier for me. Top floor?” You pointed upwards as if your question really needed any clarification. John nodded and you winked, “Easier for you too then.”

Since John was the one who was armed, he exited the room first. Or maybe he could sense you really couldn’t be bothered with the whole fighting thing. Out of the two of you, that was his schtick. When you stepped outside you looked around and your eyebrows shot up.

“Oh.” There were bodies everywhere. Not unexpected if John was involved, but still kind of eyebrow-raising. John didn’t seem phased because of course, he wasn’t. He gave you a glance and you gestured down the end of the hall to where the elevator to the top floor would be. “You didn’t come prepared this time?” You asked sceptically. Most of the time he had floor plans memorised.

“Not as prepared.” There was a slight hint of a Wick-esque joke in there. Even if he went into a job completely unprepared he had a better chance than his enemies. The touch of playfulness also put you at ease a little bit. Okay, he was willing to work with you or at least not fight you right now. Lucky~

The commotion John had made must have pulled all the guards by the elevator away as the two of you had no encounters down the hall. You swiped the keycard and entered the number for the top floor, praying it would work—and it did. “Nice! I really didn’t want to have to run upstairs today. This job isn’t paying me enough for stairs.”

There was silence as the two of you waited for the elevator, but then, “I should charge extra for stairs.” John’s quip was very quiet, but you wheezed out a laugh before there was a ding from the elevator doors—

And a group of lackeys marched out, catching the two of you off guard for a moment—or at least you were caught off guard; you dived to the ground to avoid the ensuing gunfire. John was quick to empty the rest of his clip into two men, putting them down permanently. Their bodies slumped next to you and one of their jackets opened to reveal a fresh clip of ammo.

You could see that John was just about to yeet his goddamn pistol and you shrieked at him. “Nodon’tdothat! Take this!” You tossed him the clip so he could reload and use the gun for it’s intended purpose. After a few more precise shots, the lackeys were dead.

You stood up and dusted yourself off. John did his careful observation thing and then entered the elevator with you. The doors closed, the elevator music started and the two of you stood in silence. The air was tense. You chewed on the inside of your lip and glanced at John from the corner of your eye. John could see how antsy you were and sighed very lightly which was pretty much telling you to speak your mind. Which you did.

“You still throw your fucking empty gun at people? Really?” The words came out in an incredulous rush, but then you held up your hands in a defensive gesture. “That’s all I had to say. That’s it.”

“Are you sure?” John raised a brow at you and dared you to continue, though it wasn’t in that ‘I’ll kill you if you open your mouth again’ kind of way. It was just the normal fun banter.

The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence facing the elevator doors, tension gone. The doors chimed when you finally reached the top and they opened to wide office space because of course, it did. You’d love to see one messy as fuck office one time, but it seemed like open, shiny-tiled penthouse spaces were really in vogue. You know, the spaces with the one desk and throne-like chair and ceiling to floor windows? It was nothing you hadn’t seen before.

Your original plan was to empty out the office, make the head honcho leave his desk so you could take what you needed and leave, but after you got caught, that plan went out the window. John’s method of doing things wasn’t as stealthy as yours, but it would have to do in this case.

The head honcho was definitely still in his seat, as well as his personal bodyguard because of course there was someone there looking like a final boss, but that wasn’t a problem for you. That was a John Wick problem and he knew it. You eyed the room and found the door you needed. “I’m only here for some blueprints. Whatever else happens isn’t my business.” You stated quietly. You weren’t going to interfere no matter what and you were hoping that John would do the same.

John’s eyes never left his target. “Yeah.” He agreed. It was just one less problem if you were going to stay out of the way, so he was fine with it.

“Do your best, John.” You stepped back as the last boss looking fuck started to advance.

“Thanks, Lucky.” His tone of finality meant that that was where you were going to part ways.

When the fight started, you ducked away to the edges of the office and crept towards the door you needed to go through. The head honcho was too busy being a wimp to even care about what you were doing. John Wick always stole the show and that worked completely in your favour, to be honest. You hacked the electronic lock on the door—as planned—and went inside to do your thing. While the transfers were happening you sat quietly listening to sounds of an intense fight outside. You even checked your phone and some apps; there were a few hints of job listings you could take after this job.

With the transfer complete, you gathered your things and peeked outside just to witness John putting down the persistent guard. Nice. What wasn’t nice was the gun aimed at John while he was distracted. It looked like the head honcho had some guts after all. Without thinking too much, you reached into your boot to pull out one of your knives and threw it with absolute precision at the man’s wrist to force him to drop the gun.

There was a scream of pain and with John alerted to the danger, that was it. There was another dead body added to the list.

“You said you wouldn’t interfere.” It was a statement, but John wasn’t ungrateful at all. It was nice to have people help sometimes and you were one of those people he could mostly-trust not to use favours against him.

You looked around exaggeratedly. “Where did that knife come from? Wow, that’s like ultra lucky for you!” You did a 360 turn to really try and sell the idea that you had no idea that the knife came from your helping hand.

John stared at you, but then knelt down to pull the knife from the man’s wrist. As you approached, he wiped the knife on the man’s shirt and then offered it. “You know you shouldn’t brand your knives.” There was a stylish ‘lucky’ engraved into the blade.

Smartass! But you didn’t miss a beat. “I don’t want people claiming my useful shit as theirs, John.” You shot back before swiping the knife from him and sliding it back into your boot. Jerk. You couldn’t help the grin plastered on your face. John was impassive as always, but there was a warmth in his gaze.

The assassin turned to leave before you did. You thought to wait a bit so he could leave first. Maybe you could rifle through the office and find some other useful stuff in the meantime? But when he reached the elevator doors, John stopped and turned back to look at you in a silent question. Weren’t you coming?

You were sincerely surprised and kind of confused, but not when he carefully tilted his head towards the lift. He wanted you to follow. You realised he probably meant to help escort you safely out of the building in exchange for helping him earlier, even though you said you wouldn’t.

Not a moment later you were in the elevator on the way down with a beaming expression on your face. John looked professional as always, just a little more bloody and bruised than earlier. This would make you even. You supposed this was his way of making sure you couldn’t use anything against him. You could understand how it was more of a safety precaution more than something—friendly.

It was important not to misconstrue actions in this business. It was important to stay level-headed about everything to just stay alive. Then again, the knife flying out of your hand to save John wasn’t exactly a level-headed decision—you just kind of did it. However, it worked out in your favour. Lucky~

Leaving the building was a lot easier than entering it. The two of you pretty much just walked out. There weren’t any more bodies to throw at John Wick—at least for now. Maybe they’d use some people who were a little more expensive and therefore more skilled, but still just as useless.

You stood facing John in the quiet back alley. “Well, that was more fun than I anticipated.” You didn’t want to say thank you because it wasn’t appropriate, so you settled for that.

“You got lucky.” John bowed his head slightly and you did see a small smile then. You knew that having friends in this business wasn’t real, but this also wasn’t the first kind-of intimate moment you’ve had with John Wick. If friends were a thing, you wondered if maybe that’s what the two of you were. Maybe. “See you around.” He surprised you then by using your name instead of your callsign.

You watched him walk away leaving you to your own devices because he knew you would be okay. He always knew that you would be okay and that he really would see you around. Again and again.

Turning on your heel, you also left, still feeling pretty lucky.

[thewritenerd]

Victor and Adam: NaNoWriMo Day 07

‘What are you doing in here?’ he muttered to himself. ‘Victor?’ Victor jumped and spun round to see Adam standing in the doorway, his dark hair still dripping wet. ‘What are you doing in my room?’ Thinking quickly Victor reached into his pocket and pulled out the notebook. ‘You left this in the library.’ ‘Thanks.’ Adam said as he took it. Victor simply nodded. ‘Right I’ll be going then.’ Taking one last look at whatever was on the floor he stepped out of the room and made his way downstairs.

 Adam

Sitting around waiting for his dad’s friend to arrive was agony. And not just because of the clothes. Victor had insisted they dressed their best for their guest but Adam couldn’t help but feel he just wanted to show off. ‘Will you please sit still.’ Victor scolded. ‘And straighten up your clothes, they’re all crumpled from your slouching.’ Begrudgingly Adam tugged at the bottom of his waistcoat. They were sat in the formal living room, one of the few rooms with a view of the town and were all waiting for Dr Ramaker’s car to pull into the drive. He was late and Victor was getting agitated. An agitated Victor was not someone Adam wanted to be in the same room as as he tended to get a bit snappy. Trying to distract himself he turned to his book. It was Shreya’s poetry book which he’d already read twice. This time he was just going over his favourites. ‘You do know we have other books?’ Victor asked staring at the book in his hands. ‘Yeah. But I’m going to have to give this one back when I go back to school. So I want to try and memorise some of them.’ Victor raised his eyebrow but said nothing. Adam was just about to turn back to his book when he heard the sound of car approaching. ‘That’ll be him. Igor.’ He nodded to Igor who was stood by the door. ‘I’ll show him in.’ Igor said and left. Victor quickly turned to Adam as soon as he was gone. ‘You’d better be on your best behaviour. No better than your best. You’ve just come out of your last grounding, the next one will last even longer.’ Sighing Adam just nodded and closed the book. Sitting waiting for Victor’s friend to walk through the door was painful. How would he react when he saw Adam? Would he avoid going near him, would he be afraid. Or would he be like his friends or Miss Nakajima and just take it all in his stride. When the door began to open Adam held his breath. ‘Victor so wonderful of you to invite me for dinner.’ The man in the doorway cried. He stepped into the room a big grin on his face. Then he turned to look at Adam and his grin widened. ‘And you must be Adam. Stand up boy stand up I want a proper look at you.’ Not sure if he felt more confused or amused at Dr Ramaker’s enthusiasm Adam stood up. ‘It’s nice to meet you sir.’ Adam said holding out his hand like he’d been taught. Dr Ramaker took it and gave it a shake his eye widening at Adam’s grip. ‘My you are strong. I don’t suppose you do any lifting?’ Adam shook his head. ‘No sir. I’ve always been this way.’ Victor coughed and turned to Igor. ‘Is dinner almost ready?’ he asked. ‘Why yes sir. If you gentlemen would like to come to the dinning room I’ll pour your drinks and dinner should be served soon.’ Tucking the book into his waistcoat Adam followed behind the adults not taking his eyes off Dr Ramaker the whole time. Something about he seemed familiar but he couldn’t think what. It wasn’t until they were sat at the dinner table eating their starter, some kind of green soup, when I dawned on him. ‘Didn’t I see you in town once?’ he asked. ‘You were staring at me from this Inn.’ Dr Ramaker dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. ‘You did indeed,’ he finally replied. ‘I would have come over to speak to you. But I had just ordered some food and I didn’t want to miss it.’ Adam nodded thinking it made sense but he couldn’t help but notice the suspicious look Victor cast in their guest’s direction. After a few more minuets of silence, during which the soup had been finished and the roast pork had been brought out, Adam decided to try and get the conversation going again. ‘So Dr Ramaker what kind of Doctor are you?’ ‘I’m a scientist like your father. Though I’m afraid that’s where the similarities end.’ Victors lips thinned but he said nothing. ‘What about you?’ Dr Ramaker asked Adam. ‘What are you interested in?’ Adam thought for a moment. ‘I like inventing stuff.’ He eventually replied. Dr Ramaker nodded. ‘Like Edison.’ Adam shook his head. ‘Edison didn’t invent anything. He paid other people to invent things and put his name on them. He wasn’t an inventor he was a businessman.’ ‘Adam…’ Victor began to scold but Dr Ramaker cut in. ‘No no let him speak. I like a youth with a healthy appetite for debate. So who would you call a real inventor?’ ‘Tesla, Tim Berners-Lee, Maria Beasely.’ ‘I’ve never heard of the last one?’ ‘She invented the life raft back in the 1800s.’ Dr Ramaker nodded. ‘So you know your stuff then. Ever invented something yourself?’ ‘Yes actually.’ Adam said excited to tell someone about his idea. ‘I’m building a timed watering system for indoor plants. It’s so Igor doesn’t have to go around watering them every day.’ He then went on to explain how he’d built his own mini sprinkler system and how he’d connected it to an old clock he’d taken apart, and how you could change how often the sprinklers started up and at what times by moving around the clock hands and some paper clips. Dr Ramaker listened intently nodding and only speaking to ask the occasional question. Victor didn’t say a word but from how slowly he was eating Adam could tell he was listening. ‘Well you definitely have an intelligent son Victor.’ Dr Ramaker praised when Adam was finished. Adam beamed at the doctor who smiled back. ‘I certainly can’t disagree with that.’ Victor finally replied. Then the conversation turned to Victor and Dr Ramaker’s school days so Adam just sat quietly listening to them. Once dinner was over, Adam was sent away so the grown ups could talk, so he decided to head up to his room. He pulled off his waistcoat and spent the next couple of hours watching videos before being interrupted by a knock on the door. ‘Yes?’ he said as Igor’s head popped round the door. ‘Your father wants you to come down and say farewell to our guest.’ ‘Okay I’ll be down in a sec.’ When he got to the front door Victor raised an eyebrow at his crumpled shirt but said nothing. Adam went to wave at Dr Ramaker but he called him over. ‘Come here and let me shake your hand. It’s only polite.’ Not sure if he meant it was only polite for him to shake Adam’s hand, or if it was only polite for Adam to shake his hand Adam made his way over. ‘Oh and one more thing. I’m wondering how would you feel about taking on a little project for me? He lowered his voice. It’s my father you see. Getting on a bit in years, though he’s too proud to admit it. Anyway he can’t lift things like he used to and my mother, as lovely as she is, is a whisp of a woman. I was wondering if you could try inventing me something that could lift heavy objects.’ Adam thought for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he could make something like that. But the challenge was too tempting to not at least attempt it. He nodded. ‘I can do that.’ Dr Ramaker’s face looked as if it would split in two he was grinning so wide. ‘Wonderful. Maybe we could meet at the Inn next Saturday? Just to go over any first ideas and any details.’ Adam felt his enthusiasm drop. ‘Well uh…’ ‘Or we could meet somewhere else. I hear the woods round here have some good walking paths?’ Adam nodded. ‘Yeah I can do that.’ ‘Great. I’ll meet you at the bottom of the hill next Saturday. How does 10 o’clock sound?’ ‘Fine.’ With their arrangement made Dr Ramaker climbed into his car and Adam gave him a last wave goodbye before heading back to the castle. ‘What were you two talking about?’ Victor asked eyeing him suspiciously. ‘What? Oh he just wanted to ask me about got places to go for a walk. I said the woods had lots of nice paths.’ ‘Walking huh? Didn’t know he was into that stuff?’ Not wanting to be questioned anymore Adam simply slipped past him and headed back to his room.

Victor

Victor had spent the last few days feeling like he’d forgotten something. But no matter how hard he thought it wouldn’t come to him. ‘Couldn’t be that important.’ He told himself, but still that niggling feeling remained. It wasn’t until he was sat eating breakfast and Igor asked when he planned on buying his father’s birthday present that he remembered. ‘Fuck.’ He hissed. That was what he’d forgotten. Igor had booked time off to visit his daughter the same weekend Victor was supposed to go to his parents. Which of course meant there was no one around to watch Adam. ‘What’s wrong?’ Adam asked. Victor shook his head. ‘Nothing. I just remembered I’ve forgotten to tell my mother I’d be bringing you to my father’s birthday party.’ He took a gulp of coffee. ‘I’ll have to ring her as soon as I’m finished here.’ Adam looked thoughtful. ‘I suppose they’re technically my grandparents. So do I call them granma and grandpa? Or do I call them by their names?’ ‘I think we’ll leave that up to them.’

[ladyalice101]

@abi117 shared this article with me the other day, and I immediately thought of the leaked set photos where jon knelt to Cersei .. and then I thought of the kidnap plot .. and then .... my fingers slipped. 

read on ao3. 

don’t blame me, love made me crazy

Jon is very sure that, if she’s still alive, Sansa will be furious with him.

There is very little that is more important to Sansa than Northern Independence – as she has made abundantly clear over the past few moons – including her own life.

But to Jon, nothing is more important than Sansa.

As the ash and smoke had cleared after the Battle for Winterfell, as the bodies were collected and moved and burnt in pyres, as Jon had searched everywhere for his beautiful sister-cousin, it had slowly become clear that she wasn’t to be found.

The castle had been thrown into a frenzy when they’d realised that Sansa was neither in Winterfell nor amongst the dead, and it wasn’t for three days that they’d learnt what had become of her.

The scroll Cersei had sent had also held a lock of Sansa’s fiery hair, and as the meeting of the Lords raged around him as they all debated on what to do, Jon had been unable to speak or listen as he’d stared at the etches in the wooden table and imagined all of the terrible things Cersei would be doing to her.

All it took was one foolish Lord to suggest that they leave the Lady Sansa in King’s Landing, because after all they still have their King and no Dragon Queen to worry about – “so why bother sending our exhausted men across the country to retrieve one woman who’s probably dead anyway?” – for Jon to stand from his chair. It had scraped across the floor and sent every single man silent, including that who had dared to suggest they leave Sansa in Cersei’s clutches. Jon didn’t know who he was, still doesn’t, but his face is memorised so that when Jon gets back he’ll have his head.

Jon knows – gods, he knows – that he is playing right into Cersei’s hands, probably even better than she’d imagined. He knows that he’s in no state of mind for this, because he’ll likely pay any price Cersei demands of him if she lets Sansa go free.  

Any political savvy Jon had had within him had died with Daenerys.

He is too exhausted now to do much other than climb atop the only dragon that remained in the world and fly south.

He’d intended to ride a horse, but the thought of Sansa in King’s Landing for longer than the two days it will take him to fly down . . . he would have killed three horses and near on himself, if he’d had to, but he has a dragon now and so he goes as quick as he can.

By the time he arrives in King’s Landing, he’s slept only for a minute or two here and there in the two days it took him to fly, and perhaps even less than that in the days before, when he had no idea where she was and every time he’d closed his eyes to sleep all he could see was the variety of ways she might be being tortured.

Jon had hoped that he was stronger than this, but – when he stumbles into the Throne Room of the Red Keep, sleep deprived and sick to his stomach with guilt and worry and fear, he catches sight of Sansa gagged and bound by Cersei’s side, her red hair sheared to her jaw and a bruise blooming across her cheek, and he immediately falls to his knees.

Cersei doesn’t even need to smile her cruel, vicious smile for Jon to know that he has already lost.

Sansa may hate him for this, for how quickly and easily he has revealed his desperation, but he can’t care. Not when he wants her to leave with her life. Above all else, that’s what matters to him: that she’s alive, and home.

Because despite it all, despite the whispers that have followed him since he came back to life that claim him a god, or the praise that he is the greatest swordsman to ever live, or the stories he knows are shared that always, always glorify his battles and make them seem easier than they were, make it out like he brought victory when really it was sheer luck; despite it all, he is just a man, who is in love with a woman, and who couldn’t bear to see her die.

“Please,” he croaks, eyes downcast in that way that he has learnt so well since becoming acquainted with Daenerys, “please, let her go. I’ll give you anything.”

He hears Cersei stand, but he daren’t look up at her. Her feet come into his line of vision, her black dress swirling around her shoes, and still he stays prostrated before her.

Pathetic, perhaps, and certainly not the man he was raised to be but - . . . he doesn’t know what else to do, and he’s far past gambling with Sansa’s life. He has known nothing but keeping her safe and protected since he emerged into this cursed second life, and has committed each act he has with only one goal in mind.

I’ll protect you, I promise.

“Your miserable grovelling has made this much less satisfying than I’d hoped it would, bastard.”

Jon stays quiet.

He doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, all he wants is Sansa in his arms, and then back in Winterfell (for surely Cersei will not let them both leave, and Jon made his peace with dying in the South the moment he stepped foot on Dragonstone and Daenerys had his boat taken away).

“You’re just like your father,” Cersei says, a haughty tone to her voice. “You have a dragon to bargain with, to threaten me with, and yet you’ve still come here with the hope that your desperate words will convince me to set her free?”

Jon wonders how this might have ended, if he’d come to Cersei with the determination of fire and blood rather than the melancholy of his true House, and he knows that he could never have condemned a whole city to burn just because he is in love.

Cersei bends down and grasps his chin in her fingers, and when she brushes her lips over his temple Jon gets a strong whiff of wine on her breath.

“You’re pretty like Rhaegar, though, aren’t you?”

For a moment, fear grips his heart as he realises Cersei has learnt the truth of his parentage. It releases a moment later when he remembers that he doesn’t have to worry about the secret spreading now Daenerys is gone.

Cersei pulls away from him, her green eyes piercing his soul, and as she turns her back to him and walks back to her Throne, she calls over her shoulder, “You’re in love with her, then?”

“More than you know.”

The frown that mars Cersei’s face after his confession is unexpected, but he stays focussed on it. He doesn’t dare turn to Sansa and see her reaction to the truth.

“I know a thing or two about Targaryen men in love with Stark women,” Cersei says, then lets a contemplative silence fall over the hall.

Jon doesn’t move from where he’s knelt, even though his entire body aches and begs to be released into sleep. You don’t need her! He wants to scream. Not now you have me. I’m the Targaryen, a threat to your reign.

“I’d planned to take you, and kill your dearest Sansa of course,” Cersei says, after they’ve sat in silence for so long Jon becomes unsure whether his knees will ever unbend, “but I think that if I did, you might just throw yourself from a window, and I have much more important uses for you than that.”

Jon dares to cast his eyes over to Sansa at that. She’s staring back at him, an unreadable if fairly passive expression on her face. She’s still wearing the dress he saw her in last: the black one, with the leather armour laid over the torso, a look so fierce that the first time he saw her in it hr almost fell to his knees to grasp the hem of it and beg for her forgiveness (or to fuck him, maybe, he still isn’t sure which request would have spilt from his lips).

Aside from the bruise, and the way her hair has been hacked at, she looks relatively unharmed. It’s likely untrue, but Jon will gain nothing by trying to pull apart the aloof expression she’s adopted. He would know; he’s tried many times before.

“I’ll let her go,” Cersei agrees finally. “Back North, where she belongs. As part of my Kingdom, but I suspect you already knew that. In return, you’re to stay here, bastard.”

Both of these demands Jon had expected. It makes it no easier to witness Sansa’s frown, and to feel his heart break over the thought that the last time he’ll ever see her she is displeased with him.

But they are things he can live with if it means her freedom and her life.

The gag is pulled from Sansa’s mouth, and then she’s thrust onto her feet. The harsh shove of the guard makes her stumble, and it’s enough to make Jon attempt to rise to his feet, but then hands are clamped down on his shoulders and he can’t move.

“Your Grace,” Sansa says, coy and clipped as she curtsey’s. “Thank you for your kindness. If you would permit me just one more thing, I would like to say goodbye to Jon.”

Cersei quirks an amused brow, then waves her hand in permittance and takes the final gulp from her goblet.

Sansa’s steps are sure and true as she comes towards him, and she wastes no time in kneeling down for him. In a move that mimics Cersei, she grasps his chin; she is much more tender than Cersei was, much more loving. Her fingers caress his jaw, and then she leans in and kisses him.

Jon feels like his brain and heart stop, and while the kiss lasts only a second at most, he still chases after her lips, desperately wanting more.

Cersei’s amused laugh cuts through the air, but Jon’s eyes are still closed as he wishes that the moment never had to end; that he could live forever in that second in which his lips were pressed against Sansa’s, where they belonged.

“Oh, if only Ned Stark could see you now!” Cersei says with delight, clapping her hands together once. “How I would relish watching his face turn down in that infuriating frown of his.”

Sansa nuzzles her nose against his, a wolf-like gesture of care, but her fingers dip into his jaw just a little bit tighter, giving way to the possessiveness underneath.

“Don’t worry,” she whispers, “I won’t let her marry you.”

Jon hadn’t been worried about that, but as soon as Sansa says it he realises that this must be what Cersei meant when she said more important uses for you.

Sansa stays hovered over him, and he wishes she would kiss him again, but she doesn’t. She just stays with her face pressed against his, and Jon thinks that if this is the last time he ever see’s her, then at least they had this. It is so comforting, in fact, that Jon is sure he falls asleep against her cheek, because one moment he is basking in the peace of her, and the next a terrible, wet cough permeates the air.

He opens his eyes and goes to pull away from Sansa, but she cups his face with her hands and hushes him, brushing the curls by his temple in a such a soothing way that he relaxes into her again.

Another cough, louder this time, and then a gasp. Jon has seen enough death in his life to know the sound of it intimately.

Footsteps echo, desperate and hurried, and then Cersei’s rasping voice hisses, “What have you done?”

Jon doesn’t let Sansa distract him this time. He pulls away from her to watch as Cersei falls to her knees, grasping desperately at her throat, her face an ugly shade of red and purple, with blood dripping from her mouth.

Sansa doesn’t move away from Jon as guards rush over to their queen, and Jon can’t tear his eyes away from Cersei.

“An ugly death,” Sansa admits to him, her voice a whisper in his ear. “But now she gets to be with her son. And she can die like him, too.”

“You did this?” Jon asks.

“In her wine goblet.”

Sansa doesn’t elaborate further, but he doesn’t need any more detail. He likely should feel disgusted that Sansa could bestow what is obviously a slow and painful death upon another person, but - . . . his first life changed him, and his death changed him even more. He feels nothing for Cersei, despite the way she’s died, like he felt nothing for Ramsey, or Daenerys.

They are just deaths, necessary deaths, because Jon and Sansa have been put in a position in which they’re forced to choose: us or them.

It is not his fault that they have come out victorious on all counts.

“Go on, then,” Sansa encourages him, kissing the arc of his cheekbone, “get your sword. Kill the guards.”

Jon rises to his feet immediately, and gets his sword from where it lays, abandoned by a guard that had rushed over to his dying queen. Jon makes his way through the handful of them easily and quickly, and soon enough they are left alone in the Throne Room that stinks of death and blood.

Jon turns back to Sansa, blood splattered across his clothes. She smiles at him, a small thing, but his heart swells nonetheless.

Sansa moves over to where Cersei lies, empty eyes staring at the sky. She bends down to Cersei’s prone body and picks the golden circlet from the dead woman’s head.

When she places it atop her own head, the gold of it swimming in the beauty of her now-short hair, Jon’s breath is blown from his lungs.

The bruise that is flowered on her cheek doesn’t dim her beauty in the slightest, and the blue of her eyes sparkle as her gaze falls back on him.

Sansa doesn’t remove the Queen’s crown as she makes her way over to him, and the diamond encrusted points of it dig into the skin of his cheek when she pulls him close.

“Oh, Jon,” Sansa sighs, and he can’t quite make out her tone, can’t figure out the intricacies of the way his name sounds on her tongue, the way each letter dances as if she’s tasting them in her mouth. She backs him up, so that his knee’s hit the Iron Throne and he falls into it. “Thank you for coming. My silly, brave Northman.”

Sansa sinks down on top of him, her fingers spearing through the curls at the nape of his neck, and she brushes her lips over his. Even such a gentle, brief kiss is better than he could have imagined, and the noise that escapes his throat sounds like the whimper of a dog.

It pleases Sansa, however, as she smiles against him and then captures his mouth in a much harder kiss. She fills his hands and his mouth and his mind with her body, and then he fills her, too, right there on the Iron Throne, the dead bodies of their enemies still littering the floor.

She bites his ear when she peaks, and he pants between her breasts when he spills, and afterwards, she straightens herself from his lap and lets her dress fall back down around her ankles like she didn’t just fuck him atop the Iron Throne, while he stays sitting there, a confused yet satiated mess.

With Cersei’s crown still perched delicately on her head, Jon knows that Sansa, despite having been kidnapped, has outmanoeuvred them all; including him.

But Jon doesn’t mind. This is a battle he is happy to lose.

[cottonwren]

Valentines day is for capitalists | A.S.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s, you guys! I’m alone for this one and so are you, probably, if you follow me. Enjoy 2K+ of Ada x Fem!reader

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

"Tommy. I need a car, a reservation at a restaurant, and for you lot to leave me alone for tonight and tomorrow. Think you can do that?" Ada was frantic. Your second Valentine's together and you had outdone her horrifically last year - two things that Ada couldn't stand were being outdone and not being enough, and last 14th Feb had done just that. "Yeah. Course." Tommy nodded from his fag. "What's going on?" Arthur asked, ever oblivious to the current situation. "It's Valentine's day, Arthur, and Ada wants to do something nice for Y/N" The passive aggression in Linda's voice made Bonnie and Michael choke on their tea - they had nowhere to go because Aberama and Polly had gone AWOL.

“Right, that reminds me, uh, what are you doing tonight after Billy boy has gone to bed?” Arthur asked softly, looking at his miracle of a wife - he really didn’t believe that he deserved her sometimes, especially when he forgot every holiday to ever exist.

“Nothing, Arthur. Why do you ask?” Linda asked with a sly smile. She had some things planned, actually, but that would be for later. Much later.

“Can I take you out? To that restaurant you like so much with all the crosses?” He asked, wrapping an arm around her waist gently. Linda nodded with a smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. God, she loved her husband - misguided, rugged, and she wouldn’t have him any other way.

“Right, so if anyone knocks on my door, unless my child is dying, I will not hesitate to hack your heads off. Y/N works long hours and this is the only night she’s been able to get off for fucking forever - I will not have you lot ruining it.” She clarified before going to leave, then as if pulled back by some invisible voice, she retracted her steps to look at Bonnie and Michael “I’m doing the right thing by trusting you two with my baby, aren’t I? If not, let me know, because I will find an alternative. I cannot have it fucked up”

“Karl loves us, it’ll go great! Bon’s gonna tell him stories” Michael told her with a grin, setting Ada on edge. Nothing was more unsettling than his cockiness.

“Right. I’m going to get everything ready. Tommy, I’ll come to collect the car and the name of the restaurant later. A good one, please” Ada told him, though she knew that, as always, Tommy would go above and beyond for her happiness. Well, not always, but mostly. When he could, and when she was this worked up, he had always done the very best - that was lucky, because it was the least that Ada thought you deserved.

“Don’t worry Ada. I’ve got it. Go do Ada things and I’ll sort the restaurants out, and get you a good car. Tell Y/N I said hello” Tommy told her with a hum, almost nudging her out of the door.

“Right, because when I’m on a date with my girlfriend, telling her how much I adore her, I’m going to start talking about Mr Tommy Shelby OBE MP of Small Heath” Ada grinned, walking out.

“Forgot you communists don’t like the finer things in life” Tommy teased, handing her her bag that she’d thrown at the wall, widely missing literally anything she could have been aiming for.

“We just don’t think that the 1% should exist, Tom - believe that the ‘liveable’ wage should actually be liveable,” Ada told him, now standing on the path.

“Now now, Ade, don’t give them any ideas. Last thing we need is a commie revolution around here” He told her, the door closed behind him as he spoke to his little sister.

“Might do it just for fun. Bye!” Ada joked, then walked off in the direction of the train station - Tommy always thought it ironic that she hated the 1% and lived in London, of all places.

Once Ada had caught a train to London and angrily sholderbarged her way through the crowds, she was met by you waiting at the entrance. You weren’t meant to get off of work for an hour.

“Heya love” You grinned, still in your work suit. She wrapped her arms around you, confused but ultimately surprised.

“Hi… As much as I love the surprise, why’d you get off early? You weren’t sacked, were you?” Ada asked, slipping her hand down to hold yours as you began walking through the busy streets.

“Sacked? They can’t afford to lose me, love, can they?” You laughed, swinging your hands a little “Thought I’d surprise you and just spend some time with you and Karl then see if we can find a restaurant”

“Or, you could relax at home a bit, have a nice bath, I’ll pick Karl up from nursery and then let me be the best partner in the world?” Ada asked softly, proud of herself for being the one with a plan - she normally was, but when it came to anniversaries it was left up to you.

“What’s the point of a bath if you’re not in it with me?” You asked, feigning confusion before nodding “That sounds great, love. Thank you so much. You’re the best. I’m not going to ask questions because you look very proud of yourself and that means you’ve excelled - not a surprise there. Manage to excel in everything you do.”

“Good. Don’t ask questions. Just follow my orders” Ada told you in a strict voice, leading you down an alleyway that would lead you towards your apartment.

“Is that part of the Valentines Day Ada special?” You teased, giggling incessantly as she playfully slapped your shoulder.

“It could be. But shh, kids are around and god forbid we give them the homosexurabies” She hummed, mocking the countless complaints you’d recieved from the neighboring nannies and the mums that you walked past.

“What’s the worst that can happen - they end up happy?” You asked in mock horror, making her laugh. God, what a beautiful sound.

“God forbid!” Ada laughed, fishing for her keys in her bag and walking with you through the doors to your apartment complex and walking up the stone steps until you reached your floor.

“Do I get to give you my Valentines day present aswell? Or should I wait till the experience is over of your grandiose expression of love?” You enquired as soon as you were safe inside the homey apartment. Hanging your coat over the hook on the door, you checked yourself in the mirror - her present wasn’t visible at all. Great.

“Either works - unless there’s a dog somewhere, otherwise you should probably not suffocate it or kill it of starvation” Ada commented dryly, hanging her own coat next to yours and sitting her bag on the coffee table. “How does he manage to leave toys everywhere when he’s at nursery?”

“Been learning off of me - making a mess all the time” You hummed, gently pulling her closer into a kiss, your hands around her waist. She tasted like birthday cake and everything that was great about being alive - it made you wonder if she was real, sometimes, if she and Karl were just figments made up by a lonely mind. Then you’d reach out in bed and feel her strangely toned arms wrapped around Karl’s chubby little frame and try to memorise everything in that moment because nothing this perfect ever stayed that way for long.

“Takes off his mum more than his mom, then. Hopefully the same is true for his anger,” Ada joked, gently tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“No, he’s got your blood in his veins, Ade, and you don’t learn fighting as primal as that - and as often, holy hell. I’m surprised you aren’t off fighting Bonnie and the likes of him for money and fame.” You were joking, but it couldn’t have been more obvious that Ada wasn’t made for fame - she barely handled being called a Shelby well enough when the peaky blinders were just a gang. Now? They were an international force.

“Mhm… Better go get the little bastard whilst I think about it. You go get in that bath and I’ll wish I was with you the whole time” Ada decided after a quick look at the clock and a gentle tap to your ass, narrowly missing feeling the ring box in your chest pocket as she leant forward.

When Ada got back, you were dressed up and sitting at your vanity. “Ada? Karl?” You called out, getting up, not bothering with shoes as you walked out of your shared bedroom and towards the hallway to just see Ada. No Karl in sight. “Where’s Karl? Is he ok? Do I need to phone your brothers?”

“Bonnie is babysitting him, love. He’s fine. But for now… fuck, why do you look so gorgeous? For now, we’re going out for dinner” Ada told you, amused and warmed by your worry. It really shook her that someone could love her son as much as she did, but she was sure that when she saw you read to him or when you woke up in the night and reached out for them both, you loved them both more than she could ever know.

“Where are we going then. Ms. Organised?” You asked, following her to the bedroom, turning the lamp on once again “Please don’t tell me it’s Linda’s scary restaurant with the bleeding jesus and the crosses?”

“No, that’s where Arthur is going. We’re going to Viennetta’s, I’ve been told it’s the best italian in town. Plus, I got us a nice car - as much as I hate the 1%, you have to admit, it is good” Ada hummed, pulling out a dress from her side of the wardrobe and taking off her own normal day dress before pulling on the baby blue one. “Zip me up?”

“Sure” You nodded, sliding on your heels and walking over to her to carefully zip up the chiffon dress. “Love this dress”

“Why’d you think I’m wearing it?” Ada grinned, glad it was all going to plan. “So, how was your day at work?”

“Exciting - one of my clients, you know the pub that your brothers pretty much destroyed? That one, had me assess all the damage, account for it all, and then complained about your whole family to me. Lied through my teeth, but it was funny to see someone bitch about them almost as much as you do”

“Oi” Ada laughed, clipping on her necklace after putting on her dress - she was a relatively quick changer, something you could never even attempt. “How do I look?”

“Absolutely gorgeous, Ade” You told her, sneakily swiping the velvet box from under one of your hats and hiding it behind your back “Can I suggest one more little accessory, though?”

“You can” Ada nodded, looking at the vanity desk “Should I change my earrings?”

“No, love. Close your eyes” You scoffed, watching as she rolled her eyes but did it anyway. “Your earrings are great”

Getting down on one knee, you got the ring box out, holding it open and then attempting to speak coherent sentences - it took a couple breaths but you finally got it. “How about a ring, Ada? Open your eyes”

“A ring?” Ada asked, then opened her eyes. She was taken aback “I…”

“Ada, I know we can’t make it official, but will you marry me? I know you’ve been thinking about going by another last name, so how about mine? Plus, you get this sweet ring in the de-” You were knocked off balance by Ada practically jumping on you, kissing you and then sliding the ring on her finger.

“I’ve always wanted your last name, you idiot” Ada told you with a wet smile, sitting on the floor with you, hand in yours “We’ll have a little ceremony - my family, yours, Jeremiah.”

“Little? Your family are like rabbits, love…”

“I know” Ada laughed, standing up and taking you with her “Now, let’s go have dinner and then we can get on to phase two of my awesome valentine’s present”

“Don’t forget a coat, you’ll catch a cold” You reminded her, getting your nicer coat out of your half of the wardrobe. Valentines day was a load of capitalist mush, but somehow Ada made it feel like a day of real love. A day where nothing mattered and you could be engaged to the woman you loved.

[eldritchsurveys]

1018.

survey by ashleybayle

Has anyone ever told you that you looked like a celebrity?  >> Yeah, I’ve gotten Grace Jones and Harold Perrineau. I happen to think both of those people are beautiful so that’s cool. 

When was the last time you got something done to your hair? >> I don’t get things done to my hair, I just buzz it every couple of weeks.

Do you have any change on you right now?  >> I don’t have anything on me right now. I also don’t keep change around because I usually don’t use cash.

What color is the pillowcase(s) on your bed?  >> One is a mid-range grey and the other one is a charcoal grey (the latter comes from a different sheet set).

Do you have a favorite day of the week? >> I do not.

Cutting your hair extremely short, would you do it?  >> As previously stated, I do it all the time.

Have you ever been in an art show? >> I’ve been in an exhibit, if that’s the same thing.

Would you considered yourself to be well-exposed to life or sheltered? >> I’ve been well-exposed to life now. When I first left home, I was dangerously sheltered, but the circumstances I got into taught me a lot really fast.

How high is your pain tolerance?  >> I can take certain kinds of physical pain pretty well, but not things like toothaches or muscle cramps. But in certain situations my pain tolerance is lowered by my intolerance for the rest of the situation -- like at the dentist. The pain is technically tolerable, but the whole circumstance of being at the dentist, with all the touching and weird procedures and medical stuff around... that significantly hampers my ability to deal with the pain the way I usually would.

Have you ever played the game Halo? >> I have never.

Are you wearing any jewelry at the moment?  >> Just the jewelry in my piercings.

Is there a sport that you love to play?  >> There is not.

Has anything made you sad in the past 48 hours? >> Absolutely.

Have you ever had to learn lines for a play/skit/movie?  >> Not really. I was in one play in my school years but I was an extra so I had like, one line. I was so bored that I ended up just memorising the whole play for the hell of it and reciting it to myself in bed at night. (Sure wish I had those memorisation powers now...)

Do you like your nose?  >> I don’t think about my nose.

Is there a hair color you prefer on the opposite sex?  >> ---

Kissing someone with facial hair, do you mind?  >> ---

Would you ever like to be a stunt person?  >> Absolutely not.

Are you a pyromaniac?  >> No.

How soon is your birthday?  >> A little over seven months.

Are you one of those people who listen to songs on repeat?  >> I don’t usually do that. When I do, it becomes apparent that that song has made one hell of an impact on me.

Can any of your friends sing very well?  >> I don’t know.

Would you ever enter any kind of pageant?  >> No.

Do you have piano fingers?  >> I was told as much when I was young, but I don’t know if that still applies or if my fingers just look normal now.

What is your preferred curse word?  >> I don’t think I have a preferred one, since I use them all pretty regularly.

When someone's drunk, the truth comes spilling out, correct?  >> Not necessarily. People assume that whatever they first think is the truth, and therefore assume that the lack of social filter that drunken people tend to have means they’re “speaking the real truth”. But I don’t think of it that way at all. 

Have you ever shouted something random at someone out a car window? >> I don’t think so. I think the most random thing I’d shout at someone out of a car window would be something like “I LIKE YOUR DOG!” or, you know, something like that.

Have you ever slept on a beach? >> Surprisingly not. I was rarely street-homeless in the summer, unfortunately (ain’t that just the way).

Would you like to be taller?  >> No, I really don’t care about my height. I’d probably care if I was either way shorter or way taller than I am now, but since I’m average height, it hasn’t been a concern.

Are you a fan of piercings on the opposite sex?  >> ---

Have you ever listened to Celtic music?  >> Yeah.

Do you enjoy making up words?  >> I don’t usually do that.

Have you ever been attacked by an animal?  >> No.

Who did you dance with last?  >> ---

When holding hands, do you intertwine fingers?  >> ---

Is there a movie that makes you cry every single time you watch it?  >> Requiem for a Dream is like that.

Do you ever talk to the TV? >> Yeah.

What's your opinion on Johnny Depp? >> Instinctively I feel like fame fucked him up, as it does a lot of people. That may or may not be true, but that’s the impression I’ve gotten. I hate how the Amber Heard situation polarised people, and I hate that we were even made privy to the details of that whole debacle, because it feels exploitative as fuck to watch shit like that happen and all the media outlets pounce on it the way they do. I don’t really much care for many of his movies, but there are a few enduring favourites (like Edward Scissorhands <3).

Have you ever watched the Tudors?  >> No, but I had a friend who was obsessed with it and sometimes I think about watching it just to see, but my I think pseudo-historical drama of choice will always be The Borgias, lol.

Can you speak in different accents? >> No.

Who was the last person you mocked/mimicked?  >> I don’t remember.

If you write, isn't writer's block the most horrible thing? >> It is, it makes me feel even more worthless than I already feel.

Can you sew or knit?  >> I can do a basic stitch in both. 

Do you have a favorite pair of jeans?  >> I have one pair of jeans, is what I have.

What size shirt do you normally wear?  >> Medium or Large, depending on the fit.

Are you good with money?  >> I suppose. I mean, I also don’t have much of it to manage, so...

Has anyone ever aimed a gun at you?  >> No.

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

Do you use myspace for following celebrities, and facebook for friends?  >> I mean, I don’t use MySpace at all, now. Generally I use Facebook for in-person friends, and a certain few groups I like to follow.

Have you ever written a song?  >> When I was a kid, yeah.

Do you believe there is life on other planets?  >> I think it’s a reasonable conclusion to come to.

If you think about the universe long enough, it's baffling isn't it?  >> Yeah, it’s fucking... inconceivable, is what it is. I love it.

When was the last time you fell?  >> I really don’t remember.

Are you a fan of Christian Bale?  >> I mean, mildly? Same friend who was into The Tudors was also a big fan of Christian Bale, incidentally. I do like the things I’ve seen him in.

Do you have any sort of debt?  >> No.

Is there an accent you prefer?  >> No.

Have you spoken to the person you love today?  >> I’ve spoken to one of them.

Would you ever travel to Los Angeles? >> Sure, I’m really curious about what it’s like over there, and how it compares to its twin metropolis on the East Coast.

Have you ever been through a natural disaster? >> Not really.

Is there a specific time period that interests you? >> No.

Do any of your friends own an expensive car?  >> No.

Have you ever been on a train? >> I’ve been on many a train.

Is there a memory that embarasses you to think about? >> Sure.

Have you ever used different colored paper clips?  >> Maybe a long time ago.

Where exactly are you right now?  >> On my bed in my room.

Don't you admire those people who know exactly what they want to do? >> I think it’s fascinating that people can have such a clear concept of what they want to do in life. I have never experienced that. I don’t know what it’s like to have a singular passion that overrides all else, or a sense of Purpose(tm) or anything like that.

Is there a guy you can talk to about anything?  >> I mean, I guess that’d be Can Calah.

Have you ever been in a parade? >> Yeah.

Would you ever consider being a news reporter?  >> No.

Are you, or anyone you know, an atheist?  >> I am not an atheist, but I know at least a few of them.

Has anyone ever told you to "get a grip"?  >> Probably.

Do people say you look your age? Or younger or older?  >> People tend to assume I am younger than I am.

Have you ever sent a celebrity fan mail?  >> No.

Are you ashamed of how you acted when you were younger? >> Kind of, yeah. I understand that the way I behaved was directly informed by the trauma I’d suffered, and I try to forgive myself for it, but still.

Do you ever have those days where you feel you're the ugliest person ever?  >> That’s most days.

Beauty is both external and internal, correct? >> It’s wherever you want it to be, I guess. The shit is entirely subjective.

Have you ever been in a musical? >> Yeah, that one play I was in that I mentioned earlier. It was Annie.

When was the last time you swam in a pool?  >> I don’t remember the last time I was in a pool.

Is there a friend's family that makes you feel like you're family too? >> No.

How do you know someone is your best friend?  >> I don’t know, I have no experience with that. I don’t think I’ll ever know what that feels like.

When was the last time you used a highlighter?  >> ---

Has a flashlight ever ran out batteries on you in the dark? >> No.

[you-andthebottlemen]

36 -

I have combined two requests for this fic as I am not 100% confident with my smut writing. Also the second request is from an anon who originally requested it from @storiesaboutvan . So thank you anon for passing your request on to me! Hope this is okay, sorry it's kinda short! 

For any smut requests I receive from now on I will be passing them onto @mintyvan as she is incredible! And not just at smut. Check her out!! X

I feel so awkward about posting this oh man, smut is not my thing. I feel like it reads really awkwardly?? Idk. 

Request: “hello! this isn't necessarily smut and idk how you feel abt writing smut but could you do a fix where *the reader* gives van a lap dance? like something intimate/sensual :)”

Request: "Okay not sure if this smut counts as kinky but hear this: Van seated on a chair, hands tied on his back. Therefore, he cannot touch the reader. She undresses him and herself, she's a tease. Obviously, consensual. Like they've been a couple for a long time and decided to try new stuff."

******

You still remembered the first time you had sex with Van all those years ago in the untucked sheets of his tiny mattress that sat in the corner of his little bedroom at the BnB, hoping no one heard you. It was messy and chaotic teenage sex that was full of bad moves and awkward sounds, rushed actions and heavy breaths, teeth and tongue and everything in between. It was completely ungraceful and not at all poetic but it was passionate and it was the closest you and he could be physically and that was something profoundly important to the both of you. 

One night, you and Van were curled up together in the bath like yin and yang, sat facing each other. You were laughing and flirting like there was no tomorrow and were treating yourselves to chocolate dipped strawberries. As the flirting escalated, you began to take turns lustfully detailing every little thing you wanted to do to the other. Between giggles and blushing cheeks, something that you loved you and Van still got with one another, you had both agreed it was time to change things up a little; try something new. Something sexy, intimate, sensual...the works. Van left it up to you to decide what that was.

While Van dried himself off after the bath, you’d drawn the curtains in the living room and cleared some space and set up a chair. You had an idea and weren’t sure if it’d work, but Van, who was unaware of your plan was a more than willing participant. You led him delicately by the hand into the room and sat him down on the chair. He followed your guidance, your heart was racing. Would he be into this?

“Okay so you know how we said we should spice things up a little? I have an idea...” 

“Babe, I’m up for anything,” he replied, looking up at you, his eyes swimming with excitement. All these years and still a moment didn’t go by where you weren’t mesmerised by all the ways he looked at you.

You pulled his t-shirt over his head, your fingers trailing ever so slightly along his skin as you did so and threw it on the floor beside you. You then pulled a black ribbon from your back pocket and crouched down behind the chair. Your plan was to tie his hands so he couldn’t touch you; you’d tease the absolute shit out of him. 

“Wha...?” He mumbled as you softly pulled his arms behind the chair. 

“This is okay yeah?” You asked as you tied the ribbon around his wrists; ribbon because you didn’t want to hurt him. 

“Yeah,” he replied in a husky voice. He was starting to get it. 

You stood up and stood in front of him, a smirk plastered to your face. 

“Wait here,” you said, blowing him a kiss. His chest puffed up and down in a deep breath. Men are so weak, you laughed to yourself.

You skipped out of the room and quickly changed into some simple black lace lingerie. Something sexy but not over the top. You looked yourself up and down in the mirror and even applied a little lip gloss which was totally out of the norm. Van didn’t care how you looked, least of all during sex; he always thought you were beautiful. But you were excited by the thought of exploring unknown territory with him so you felt like doing just that small thing for yourself too; the lingerie and the lipgloss.

You entered the room with a newfound sense of confidence and an aura of sexuality that teemed off you. As you entered from the door behind Van, he struggled to turn and look at you. 

“Fuck, y/n...” he breathed as you strut past him; you knew you looked sexy. His eyes raked over your body slowly. He was taking in every inch of you as if he were memorising this moment and you could see his eyes grow hungry. It filled you with confidence and satisfaction to see him focus on every detail of you like that.  

“You like?” You asked in a flirty tone as you stood between his legs, pushing them apart and resting your hands on this thighs, leaning into him. 

“Do I ever...you look so fucking good,” he responded, licking his lips impatiently and staring longingly into your eyes. 

You moved your face closer to his as if you were going to kiss him but instead of doing so, when you were millimetres away from his lips, you tilted your chin upright a little and looked down at him. The eye contact created a buzz of tension between you; that in itself was a turn on. You then moved your face to be by his neck, gently trailing your lips along his skin but not quite kissing it, breathing out warm air and sending shivers down his spine. 

“Do you want me?” You whispered seductively into the hair by the nape of his neck. You could feel the muscles of his arms tense as if they wanted to vigorously break free from the ribbons already.

“Yes,” he shuddered beneath you.

“Well you’re gonna have to wait,” you smirked, standing up again. It felt like pulling apart two magnets that were longing to snap back together.

Van watched you with a pained look as you went to turn the light off and began striking matches. The crease of his brow and forehead told you he was struggling already, bless him. You carefully but quickly lit a dozen little tea light candles you’d placed around the room earlier, to set the mood. Van’s eye’s followed you wherever you went and you made sure to keep your eyes on him too over your shoulder. You couldn’t deny how sexy he looked right now. He sat slightly slumped in the chair, arms of course still bound behind his back and his lip bitten between his teeth. His hair was ruffled, messy after the bath and hanging into his eyes, no shirt and just in his worn black jeans with the band of his underwear peaking above. You licked your own lips unconsciously as you checked him out. Desire was inked into his face and the tension between the two of you was excruciating. 

Once you’d lit the candles, you went back over to Van and slowly pushed between his legs again. The candles, being the only light in the room, created a warm and romantic ambience to the place. The flames made yours and Van’s skin glow a golden orange and the reflection in his eyes was heavenly.

This time you began to plant painfully slow kisses down his neck, sucking ever so slightly. You could feel him grow hard beneath you and a muffled moan rumbled in his chest already. You smiled against his skin and ran your hands over his body while you kissed now across his collarbone, taking your sweet time. He tipped his head back and his leg bounced in anticipation and probably frustration at not being able to break free and run his hands over you too. Van was always about giving, touching, feeling. Being unable to properly interact with you and your body was unnatural and painful for him, but still just making him want you more. Crouching, you moved your hands to his hips, running a thumb along the waistband of his underwear. You looked up at him, biting your bottom lip as you began to unbutton his jeans from down below. Van exhaled strongly.

“Christ y/n,” he whined, his mouth hanging open slightly and you grinned, pulling the jeans off down his legs. 

You threw them aside impatiently and eased yourself onto his lap, straddling him. You traced your fingers up and down his arms softly, watching as goose bumps erupted under your touch. Van’s chest began to move up and down faster as he struggled more. You sat back into his lap, straddling him tighter, squeezing your legs into his hips. You then ran a finger down his chest, stopping just underneath his belly button and between the band of his underwear. 

You reached for your bra strap and tucked your thumb under it, snapping it down on your skin. Van jolted ever so slightly at the sound and you smiled. His eyes were now glued to your chest, which was exactly what you wanted. You almost wished you could stop and take a photo of the look on his face. 

Carefully, you ran your fingers over the bra, its lines and its lace. His eyes trailed your fingertips. It was one of those bras with the clip at the front so in one swift motion, you undid it and let it fall down your arms into the crease of your elbows, hanging. Van’s eyes widened at the sight of your exposed body. He looked as though he’d never seen you before; like it was the first time all over again. That in itself drove you crazy. You let the bra fall to the floor, residing amongst the pile of Van’s discarded clothing. You wanted more than anything to forget this whole thing and just pull him straight into bed with you.

But you didn’t give in that easily. 

“Don’t you just wish...you could touch me...” you said quietly with a slight moan for the effect as you took your breasts in your hands and squeezed them gently, running your hands over your chest and down to your hips. You did what Van wished he could, but wasn’t able to do. 

At that, he physically shifted under you, rocking the chair and whined, letting out a breath; he needed you. Now. 

Just when you thought Van couldn’t take anymore, you leant into him with your arms around his neck that was now flushed pink and you could see the vein protruding from his skin. His necklace clung to his chest, sticking to the sweat. You began to gently grind on him and kiss his neck, nibbling at his earlobe. He let out a deep groan you felt the heat of his breath on your skin. The whole plan was to tease him, making him crumble; but you were struggling too. You underestimated your desire and you were aching for him. But you wouldn't even let yourself kiss him. You rolled your hips against his body and began to breathe raggedly. The two of your were quietly moaning in sync and your whole body felt like it was on fire you were so turned on. 

"Untie me y/n," Van growled, almost begging. You pulled back and looked at him; he had small beads of sweat on his forehead, his hair was ever so slightly damp on the tips. His lips were bright pink from him biting and licking them so much. You shivered at the sight of him. 

You couldn't control yourself anymore; you crashed your lips onto his and firmly pressed your chest against him. You were both slicked in a thin layer of sweat and you ran your hands desperately through his hair. Both you and Van were beyond the point of teasing being a turn on, you stood up and felt your underwear completely drenched. As you frantically untied the knots around Van's wrists and he was visibly shaking in the chair. Once the ribbon was loose, he pulled away violently and stood up, knocking the chair to the ground and pushed you against the closest wall. He grabbed your face and kissed you deeply, running one hand down your body hungrily, as if he were trying to make up for the lost time. 

“Fuck...” you moaned quietly.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Van rasped with a slight laugh between kisses.

“That was the point,” you breathed.

You melted under his touch and your back arched as he wedged his knee between your thighs. The tension between the two of you spiralled out of control and before things escalated any further in the living, you guided him urgently to the bedroom as if you were about to implode unless you and he became one.

[oneofgothamsinsane]

can we get a colours of the sky version of this? please?

IVE COME TO MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT;

SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG IS A BITCH ASS MOTHERFUCKER. HE PISSED ON MY FUCKING WIFE- THAT'S RIGHT, HE TOOK HIS HEDGEHOG FUCKIN QUILLY DICK OUT AND HE PISSED ON MY WIFE, AND HE SAID HIS DICK WAS "T h i s B i g" AND I SAID "THATS DISGUSTING." SO IM MAKING A CALLOUT POST ON MY TWITTER DOT COM. SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG! YOUVE GOT A SMALL DICK, ITS THE SIZE OF THIS WALNUT EXCEPT WAY SMALLER, AND GUESS WHAT? THATS WHAT MY DONG LOOKS LIKE! (explosion noises) THATS RIGHT, BABY! TALL POINTS, NO QUILLS, NO PILLOWS! IT LOOKS LIKE TWO BALLS AND A BONG! He fucked my wife, so I'm gonna fuck the EARTH! THATS RIGHT, THIS IS WHAT YOU GET! MY SUPER LAZER PISS! Except im bot gonna piss on the earth, oh no, I'm gonna go HIGHER! IM PISSING ON THE MOON!(Explosion) HOW YA LIKE THAT OBAMA? I PISSED ON THE MOON YOU IDIOT!!

...

YOU HAVE 23 HOURS BEFORE THE PISS D R R O P P P L E T S HIT THE FUCKING EARTH, now get out of my fucking sight before I piss on you to.

[eldritchsurveys]

697.

Has anyone ever told you that you looked like a celebrity? >> Yeah, a couple of times.

When was the last time you got something done to your hair? >> I buzz my hair every couple/few weeks or so, and that’s all that ever gets done to it aside from washing.

Do you have any change on you right now? >> No.

What color is the pillowcase(s) on your bed? >> One is dark grey and the other is light grey.

Do you have a favorite day of the week? >> No.

Cutting your hair extremely short, would you do it? >> My hair is cut extremely short.

Have you ever been in an art show? >> Yes. I used to attend an art-based summer camp for homeless LGBTQ youth, and one year we got to have our art shown in a gallery in SoHo. My piece was a collage. I know I have a photo of it somewhere but I have no idea where that photo’s gone. Maybe it got deleted forever when I deleted all my old facebooks (I realised after the fact that I should have gone through them for stuff I wanted to save, but it was too late).

Would you considered yourself to be well-exposed to life or sheltered? >> I would consider myself to be well-exposed to certain facets of life. There will always be parts of life I have no experience with.

How high is your pain tolerance? >> It depends on the type of pain and the duration. Tattoos? Fine. Lacerations? Fine. Burns? Mostly fine. Cramps? Please fucking kill me.

If you're in a relationship, how long have you been dating? >> By Sparrow’s reckoning, we’ve been together for eight years.

Have you ever played the game Halo? >> No.

Are you wearing any jewellry at the moment? >> Just piercing jewelry.

Is there a sport that you love to play? >> No.

Has anything made you sad in the past 48 hours? >> Yes.

Have you ever had to learn lines for a play/skit/movie? >> A few lines, as an extra in a summer production of Annie when I was in middle school. Having nothing to do for most of the time, I somehow managed to memorise the entire play and would recite it to myself at night for, idk, fun.

Do you like your nose? >> I don’t have any thoughts about it. I like my nose piercing, though.

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

Kissing someone with facial hair, do you mind? >> The only place I really kiss anyone is Inworld and it really doesn’t matter there.

Would you ever like to be a stunt person? >> No.

Are you a pyromaniac? >> No.

How soon is your birthday? >> It’s in a little over two months.

Are you one of those people who listen to songs on repeat? >> Not really. It’s a rare song that makes me want to do that.

Can any of your friends sing very well? >> Probably. I wouldn’t know, they haven’t sung around me.

Would you ever enter any kind of pageant? >> No.

Do you have piano fingers? >> I was told I did when I was a child. I don’t know about now. I have Guitar Hero fingers, hah.

What is your preferred curse word? >> Fuck is pretty versatile.

When someone's drunk, the truth comes spilling out, correct? >> Not necessarily. Alcohol isn’t a truth serum, it’s just another way of temporarily changing the way the brain works. That change isn’t always for the better, and sometimes it messes with people’s thoughts and interpretations of what’s going on around them, and heightens their emotional response to things, and makes them less likely to respond with what might be their customary grace or tact. That doesn’t mean they were a rude, angry bitch all along, it means their brain functions have been tampered with.

Have you ever shouted something random at someone out a car window? >> No.

Have you ever slept on a beach? >> No.

Would you like to be taller? >> My height is the least of my concerns.

Are you a fan of piercings on the opposite sex? >> I’m a fan of piercings.

Have you ever listened to Celtic music? >> Sure.

Do you enjoy making up words? >> I haven’t really given it a shot.

Have you ever been attacked by an animal? >> No.

Do you have sympathy for hobos? >> I don’t really know how to answer this.

Who did you dance with last? >> Can Calah.

When holding hands, do you intertwine fingers? >> ---

Do you have an old pair of pyjamas that you just can't throw away? >> No.

Is there a movie that makes you cry every single time you watch it? >> There might be. I have a pretty strong track record of crying every time I watch The Fountain and Interstellar.

Do you ever talk to the TV? >> Sure.

What's your opinion on Johnny Depp? >> I don’t have an opinion on him anymore. I used to really enjoy watching movies with him in them, but now JD movies can be vastly hit-or-miss for me. Sweeney Todd? Hit. Alice in Wonderland? Eh...... Mortdecai? What the fuck.

Have you ever watched the Tudors? >> No. I thought about watching it a few times. Vlad was obsessed with it. But historical dramas are also a thing that is vastly hit-or-miss for me.

Can you speak in different accents? >> No.

Who was the last person you mocked/mimicked? >> I don’t remember.

If you write, isn't writer's block the most horrible thing? >> Sure.

Can you sew or knit? >> I can perform the basics of both.

Do you have a favorite pair of jeans? >> I only have two pairs of jeans and they are equally okay. They’re basically the same pair, but one has ~ fashionable ~ rips in them.

What size shirt do you normally wear? >> Medium.

Are you good with money? >> Good enough, I guess. It’s not like I have a whole lot of it to manage.

Has anyone ever aimed a gun at you? >> No.

Do you think it's possible for a person to be fearless? >> Apparently there’s a woman who has this rare genetic thing with her endocannabinoid system that makes her remarkably impervious to pain and fear.

Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to have a conscience? >> Well, I know a few people with personality disorders that make them far less receptive to guilt.

What is the first letter of the person's name you last kissed? >> ---

Have you ever written a song? >> I used to rewrite songs I knew with different lyrics, when I was a kid. That’s the closest I ever came to writing songs.

Do you believe their is life on other planets? >> Sure.

If you think about the universe long enough, it's baffling isn't it? >> Yeah, a bit.

When was the last time you fell? >> I don’t remember. It’s been a long time. Sometimes I fall on purpose, though, to convey drama. Did that the other day when I was talking to Sparrow about something (forget what).

Would you consider yourself to be poor, middle class, or rich? >> Poor.

Are you a fan of Christian Bale? >> Not particularly, but I do really like some of the movies he’s starred in (like The Machinist and The Prestige).

Do you have any sort of debt? >> No. I can’t even accumulate debt, which is a good thing on one hand, but on the other hand is emphasis on exactly how poor I am -- credit isn’t even a thing I can gain.

Is there an accent you prefer? >> No.

Have you spoken to the person you love today? >> One of them.

Would you ever travel to Los Angeles? >> Sure. I’m very curious about LA.

Have you ever been through a natural disaster? >> Only the bit of Hurricane Sandy that came up to New York that time. It was a very interesting experience.

Is there a specific time period that interests you? >> No, most time periods interest me.

Do any of your friends own an expensive car? >> Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever been on a train? >> Many times.

Is there a memory that embarasses you to think about? >> Sure.

Have you ever used different colored paper clips? >> Yeah.

Where exactly are you right now? >> In my bed.

Don't you admire those people who know exactly what they want to do? >> I admire having passions and caring deeply about things.

Is there a guy you can talk to about anything? >> Sure, Can Calah.

Have you ever been in a parade? >> Yeah, I’ve been in NYC Pride a couple of times, and Sparrow and I led a second line after the wedding, which is basically a small parade.

Would you ever consider being a news reporter? >> No.

Are you, or anyone you know, an atheist? >> Several people I know are atheists.

Has anyone ever told you to "get a grip"? >> Probably. If anyone told me that now, I’d be tempted to get a grip on their throat.

Do people say you look your age? Or younger or older? >> People say I look younger than my age. I feel like I look tired these days, though, and looking tired makes one seem older, so maybe it evens out.

Have you ever sent a celebrity fan mail? >> No.

Are you ashamed of how you acted when you were younger? >> Yeah, but I’m also not going to feel too badly about it now. It happens. It’s part of being young. Ultimately, I did my best with what I had at the time, even if my best wasn’t that great.

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

Beauty is both external and internal, correct? >> It’s wherever you perceive it.

Have you ever been in a musical? >> The aforementioned Annie production, but only as an extra.

When was the last time you swam in a pool? >> The last time I was in a pool was probably at one of those aforementioned summer camps. Although I might not have gotten in the pool there, either. I don’t know. I tend to avoid pools, as a rule.

Is there a friend's family that makes you feel like you're family too? >> No.

How do you know someone is your best friend? >> I don’t know, how do you know that?

When was the last time you used a highlighter? >> I don’t remember.

Has a flashlight ever ran out batteries on you in the dark? >> No.