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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

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Want of a Spider

Prompt: Just reread unwanted and God I forgot how good it was also if it was a book I would buy so many copies of it also could we get a oneshot of mabye a few years later after everything happened to see how the boys are doing I just want to see them happy together

Ah, yes, don’t we all?

Read on Ao3

(Un)Wanted Masterlist

Warnings: implied/referenced panic attacks, nothing too severe, shapeshifting

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR

Word Count: 6888

A child runs to a garden.

Five fae take the child as their own.

Slowly, the child grows into something new.

Set after the events of (Un)Wanted.

It starts slow.

Slow enough that at first, Virgil’s not even sure it’s happening. The garden is…weird, to put it mildly, and it’s not like living with a bunch of fae is going to give anyone a baseline for what’s normal.

He’s just finished baking a new batch of bread with Patton. Patton’s room smells amazing, the bread looks warm and soft and part of Virgil—a part that Roman and Janus have been slowly encouraging to speak up more—wants to grab it and rip a hunk off with his teeth, temperature be damned.

Part of him would rather not have a burned tongue for the rest of the day, thank you very much. Then he won’t be able to actually enjoy the rest of the bread, just the too-sore feeling of his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

…and part of him still doesn’t know how to eat properly. Or that it’s okay to want to eat.

Patton must catch that last thought buzzing around because he looks over with a frown, reaching out to pinch the offending buzzing thing out of the air and squash it, rubbing his fingertips together until it poofs and disintegrates. The accompanying bubble of relief works its way through Virgil’s chest.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, kiddo, that seemed like a nasty one.” Patton finishes drying his hands off and surveys their handiwork. “Well! That went well.”

Virgil snorts. “Ah, yes, I forget that throwing flour at whoever you’re baking with is always important.”

“Don’t you look at me, you started it!” Patton points his finger at him. “You’re the one who threw it at me first.”

Virgil blinks. “You bumped me while I was trying to measure it out.”

“I did.” Patton nods. “And then you bumped me back.”

“Yes. Bumped. I didn’t throw it at you.”

“You did, however, decide to wipe it off my face without getting the rest of it off your own.”

“Because you threw it at me!”

Patton throws his head back and laughs, which of course makes Virgil laugh too because have you not seen his face when he laughs you try keeping a straight face. The memory of the two of them absolutely covered in flour, barely any of it in the bowl where it was supposed to go, is enough to make him scrub his hands through his hair to make sure that yes, he did in fact get all of it out.

“Oh, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while,” Patton murmurs as their giggles slow, shaking his head and going for the plates, “but I think that’s given the bread enough time to cool off.”

“Does that mean we should call the others?”

“If you want to.”

Virgil closes his eyes and reaches, searching for the tether in his chest. It takes a few pokes and prods but eventually he feels something warm and pushes.

“Hello, yes, hi, I heard something about fresh bread?” Roman pops up first, giving Virgil a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t start without me!”

“Hey!”

Virgil giggles as Remus drops straight onto Roman, almost knocking them both to the ground. He hears an exasperated sigh behind him and turns, seeing Logan shake his head at the twins.

“You would think,” he mutters to Virgil, “the two of them would develop a little more sense of spatial awareness after the first…oh, ten times they’ve knocked things over.”

“I don’t think they’ve ever had to.”

“You’re right.” Logan shakes his head again and turns to Patton. “It smells delicious, you two, congratulations.”

“You haven’t tasted it yet,” Patton reminds, “we have to wait for—“

“Fuck.”

Virgil holds a hand to his chest as Janus chuckles, having appeared out of fucking nowhere just behind him as he turned to see where the snake was. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as Janus rubs a circle between his shoulder blades.

“Sorry, little mouse,” Janus murmurs, just loud enough for him to hear, “I didn’t mean to startle you so badly.”

“It’s fine.” He leans into the touch for a moment longer. “I, uh, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Never, little mouse, you have my word.”

“Thanks.”

“Remus, I swear—“

“Just let me go and it’ll be fine!”

“Kiddos,” Patton scolds, all but prying the twins apart, “if you don’t stop fighting, there won’t be any bread left for you.”

Virgil has to stifle a chuckle at how fast the two of them break apart, sitting and folding their hands in their laps to patiently wait for their bread. Judging by the way Janus presses a little closer behind him, he knows what’s going to happen before Patton turns to him.

“Virgil? Would you like to do the honors?”

“Uh, sure.” Virgil takes the bread knife hesitantly and examines the loaf. It looks too pretty to cut…but it smells incredible. “How—uh, how much does everyone want?”

“If you let them,” Logan says wryly, “they’ll eat the whole loaf. Take what you want first.”

“Will not!”

“You, you absolutely will.”

“Hey!”

The knife hits the cutting board with a soft tap, the slice falling neatly onto the plate. Patton takes the knife when Virgil offers it, taking over the slicing as Virgil scoots around the edge of the counter to sit with his slice.

It looks so..perfect. And as he lifts it up and bites into it—

Yeah, he could eat this for the rest of his life and be happy.

Judging by the way the rest of them devour the loaf, they agree.

“You did wonderfully,” Logan murmurs amidst the smatterings of compliments, “this is delicious.”

“Thanks.”

“You must remind Patton to make this again with you, it tastes much better.”

When he doesn’t answer right away, Logan glances up, smiling when he catches sight of his red cheeks. Leaning closer, he places his chin on Virgil’s shoulder and turns to whisper:

“Don’t let Roman see that if you don’t want to blush any harder.”

Now that right there is a very good point. In an effort to hide it, he takes another bite of the bread, only to frown when something’s different.

Logan seems to notice and tilts his head. “Is there something wrong? Does it taste strange?”

Virgil opens and closes his mouth a few times. “It feels gummy.”

“Really?” Logan has another bit of his own. “It doesn’t taste that way to me, perhaps…?”

“Here, try mine.”

“…no, it still tastes the same. Have you had something to drink recently?”

“Not as recently as I probably should.” Before he can blink, Logan’s holding out a glass of water. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Let’s see if this helps.”

Well, the gumminess is no longer in his mouth. He’s not sure if he can still feel it in the back of his throat. He takes another bite of the bread—and oh fuck is it good—and it seems to go away.

“That might’ve been it.” But maybe it wasn’t.

“We’ll keep an eye on it, though,” Logan says easily as if he can see where Virgil’s mind wants to go, “let us know if it changes, okay?”

“I will.”

Which is why, later, when he’s sitting out by the lake to watch the moon ripple across the surface of the water, he feels it return and coughs, coughs, coughs until something flies out of his throat.

He frowns, bending down to stare at the thing glistening in the grass. He tilts his head.

What the fuck?

Something else is still in his throat. He coughs again, and more of it shoots out, sticking to the grass with a horrid sound.

Okay, nope. He’s not dealing with this by himself.

Remus? Remus, can you help me with something?

Sure. Gimme a sec and I’ll drop in. Are you okay?

Virgil takes another look at the glistening…thing on the grass.

I don’t know.

An instant later, the water bubbles and Remus rises up, propping himself up with his tentacles as he shakes the water off. Virgil throws his arms up to protect his face from the shower of droplets.

“Oh, oops.”

He waves a hand. “It’s fine, it’s just water.”

“…yeah.”

“Do I want to know what else was in that?”

“Probably not.”

Virgil sighs as Remus clambers up to sit next to him, leaning his head on his shoulder. Remus’s hand cards gently through his hair before prompting him to sit up.

“What’s the problem, little monster? How can I help?”

In response, Virgil points at the glistening mess on the grass In front of him. Remus leans forward, following Virgil’s finger, frowning until he spots the mess. His eyes widen.

“Whoa. I’ve never seen that before.”

Virgil’s heart sinks. If Remus has never seen it before…

“Where’d it come from?” Remus looks over his shoulder. “Was it Ollie? Uma? One of the others?”

Virgil shakes his head.

“Really? So Roman’s babies did that? Huh, I gotta tell him, he’s gonna get a kick outta that.”

“No.”

Remus frowns at the truly quiet noise Virgil makes. He nudges him gently. “No? No what, little monster?”

“It—“ Virgil swallows the gummy thing in his mouth— “it wasn’t Roman’s.”

Remus’s frown deepens. “Then what—“

His eyes go giant when Virgil coughs up another one. It lands on the grass with a splat.

“…oh.”

Virgil turns to him so fast he can feel his neck protesting. “Oh? Oh what, what does ‘oh’ mean?”

Remus smiles. He smiles so wide it makes Virgil’s face hurt by proxy. His eyes dart back and forth between Remus and the stuff on the ground.

“Remus, what?”

“You’re changing,” Remus says softly, still smiling as he reaches out to pull Virgil close, “you’re changing, Virgil, that’s it.”

Um, excuse me, no part of that is reassuring, thank you very much.

“What do you mean I’m ‘changing?’”

“You bonded to us, Virgil,” Remus continues, “you opened that connection.”

“Okay…?”

“That means—well, it means you’re no longer fully human, little monster.”

Wait, what?

He’s—

“You mean I’m part fae now?”

Remus nods. “You’re one of us, little monster, you’re ours. Which means that some of your magic—“

“I have magic?”

“Everything has magic, Virgil. But yeah, it means through that connection your magic’s starting to get a bit of its own shape.”

Virgil looks back down at the mess. It looks…well, it doesn’t look quite so scary anymore. In fact, as he looks at it, there are parts of it that he may actually be able to call…

…pretty.

“My own shape?”

“Jan-Jan looks like a snake, yeah?”

“Except he’s got six arms.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that doesn’t make sense to me either. But Janny’s a snake, I’ve got tentacles, Logan runs a little colder than the rest of us, and Pat’s got an impressive sense of smell.”

“…what about Roman?”

“Roman’s magic just kinda…” Remus wiggles his fingers. “Does that. You’ve seen it.”

“Yeah…yeah, I’ve seen it.”

“He spoils you.”

“…he tries.”

Remus gives him another gentle nudge to show he understands. Then he nods to the grass.

“That’s probably the start of it, little monster.”

“Will it hurt?”

The shameful question bursts out before he can stop it and he winces, curling his arms tightly around himself. Remus just wraps his arms around him too, holding him close.

“I don’t know, Virgil.” He tightens his grip. “But I do know you won’t have to do this alone.”

The dark pit in his chest softens ever so slightly. He tucks his head under Remus’s.

“I know.”

He goes to Logan next. Knocks on his door and waits patiently—okay, maybe not that patiently—for Logan to open it and tilt his head.

“You needn’t do that, you can ask for me directly if you like,” he says after he’s welcomed Virgil inside.

“I know, I just…felt better doing that.”

“I understand.” Logan smiles and adjusts his glasses. “What can I help you with?”

“I, um…” He shifts his weight from side to side. “I found something.”

“Oh? What did you find?”

“Do you remember when I said the bread tasted gummy?” Logan nods. “Well, I, um, found out why.”

Logan’s eyes widen as Virgil holds out a dish with some of the stuff on it. He takes it slowly, adjusting his glasses again as he stares down at the glistening substance. His eyes dart from it to Virgil and back.

“Remus said I was changing,” Virgil offers, “because of the bond, and I just—I just wanted—“

He swallows.

“…wanted to know if it would hurt,” he finishes lamely.

Logan takes a deep breath and sets the dish aside, reaching for his notebook and flipping it open. He scribbles something down and looks up, a smile slowly forming on his face.

“I’m incredibly glad,” he says softly, “that the bond is holding and that you are staying.”

“Wait, there was a chance it wouldn’t work?”

“There was a chance it wouldn’t be formed at all,” Logan corrects, “not that it would fade once it was made.”

“So...?”

“So you’re one of us now, Virgil,” Logan says, holding up the dish, “this proves it.”

“What is that?”

Logan’s smile grows. “I’ve got no idea. Let’s go find out, shall we?”

He beckons Virgil closes, moving across his room to…an area with machines that Virgil has never seen before. He watches as Logan carefully separates a piece of the substance to place on the bed of…what looks like a giant box but what is probably so much more complicated.

“You can come closer if you like.”

He shakes himself, looking up to see Logan considering him curiously.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Logan lets their shoulders brush together as he comes to join him. “This is one of my favorite tools.”

“What’s it called?”

“I call it the universal scanner, though I believe Roman calls it the Answer Box.”

“The what?”

“It answers most of the basic questions I can have about something, I suppose.”

“So he called it the Answer Box?”

“I don’t believe Roman’s ever claimed to be the best at naming things.”

Virgil snorts. “Then you were not there for the argument the two of them had over who was naming Oliver’s new adopted jellyfish.”

Logan shudders. “No, and I’m quite glad for that.”

The scanner begins to beep, little pulses of light going off around the stuff lying so innocuously in the middle. As it keeps going, something starts to twist in Virgil’s chest.

What if something’s wrong? What if this isn’t a sign of Virgil changing and it’s something dangerously wrong with him? What if he’s changing and it’s bad? What if they decide they don’t like him or he’s dangerous?

What if they realize the—

—the humans were right?

A rush of cool surges up his arm and he breathes, reaching out to take Logan’s hand and squeeze. Logan squeezes back, stepping a little closer and watching as the machine slows down. Across the room, one of Logan’s screens lights up. He gives Virgil’s hand one last squeeze before stepping away, going to look at the results.

“What does it say?”

“Chemical composition, tensile strength,” Logan murmurs, “as well as magical signature.”

“Magical signature?”

“Who it belongs to,” Logan clarifies, shooting him a smile over his shoulder, “you, Virgil.”

“I have a magical signature?”

“You do.”

He looks down at his hands, turning them over. “What does it look like?”

Logan thinks for a moment. “Do you remember the colors that your aura turns when the Claims are shown?” Virgil nods. “The colors are the various signatures.”

“So yours is…?”

“Dark blue, I believe. Roman’s is red, Remus’s is green. Patton’s is light blue.”

“Janus’s is yellow, I guess.”

“I believe he prefers ‘gold.’”

“He’s so pretentious,” Virgil mutters, “gold, honestly. Shut up, it’s fucking yellow.”

Logan chuckles. “You can tell him that if you’d like.”

“Maybe I will.”

“But to answer your question,” Logan continues, “your magical signature is your color.”

“…which is what?”

Logan looks at him strangely. “Do you not remember?”

“Remember?” Virgil shuffles nervously. “Remember what?”

“The day you were taken,” Logan says softly, sending a dark bolt through Virgil’s stomach, “and we brought you home, do you remember what happened in the garden?”

V jolts awake, flails desperately, against Roman, against Logan, against Patton.

“V, V, honey,” Patton tries, “you’re safe, honey, it’s just us, kiddo—“

“Virgil.”

Virgil breathes, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Logan sends another calming pulse into the air, calling his name quietly until he can look up.

“My apologies,” Logan murmurs, “I did not mean to do that.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t—“ he takes a breath— “you didn’t mean to.”

Logan accepts it with a nod. “I merely meant that your aura was particularly strong that day,” he says quietly, “and perhaps you remembered it. But you did not, and that’s okay.”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Virgil, it’s alright, there’s no need to apologize.”

He blinks, looking back at the bed of the scanner. “So what is it?”

“Simply put? It’s a web.”

Virgil blinks, longer this time. “A what?”

“A web, Virgil,” Logan repeats, “your web.”

A web, that means—that means that Virgil—he’s—

“So what am I going to be?”

“I believe…” Logan turns the screen to face him. Virgil’s eyes widen.

“A spider?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“But—“

Logan raises an eyebrow when Virgil cuts himself off abruptly, all but clapping a hand over his mouth.

“But,” he prompts softly, “but what?”

“…nothing.”

He tilts his head.

“It’s fine.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I just…” well, the more he thinks about it, the stupider it sounds. He’s trying really hard to not say it out loud, but…

“You can tell me,” Logan says softly, “I won’t be upset.”

“…but no one likes spiders,” he whispers, shame burning the inside of his throat where he can feel another web forming.

Logan is quiet for a moment. Then—

“Come here.”

Virgil’s head jerks up. “What?”

Logan holds out his arm. “Come here, little one.”

And Logan looks so sincere that he can’t help it, ducking under his arm and letting him gather him close to his chest. Logan hums gently, tucking Virgil’s head under his chin and holding him tight.

“We like you, little one,” he murmurs, “and everyone else can leave you alone.”

“…really?”

“Yes, really,” Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “you’re wonderful, little one.”

And Virgil opens his mouth to say something equally nice like ‘I like you too’ or even just ‘thank you,’ but nope, instead he has to cough out a web like a rude person.

Luckily, Logan just chuckles again and gives him a gentle squeeze. “I must say, I’m curious about how that works. Would you mind if I helped you figure it out?”

“Please.”

So that’s how he ends up spending a lot of time with Logan, figuring out how much web he can shoot, how to do it on command so it’s not happening all the time, how to hold onto some of it so he can pull stuff towards him like a frog—apparently Patton gets a kick out of that when he tells him—and how to make sure it’s not constantly living in the back of his throat. It’s a fucking blast, actually, and he definitely uses it when Logan gets into an argument with Remus to ‘accidentally’ cough a web into his face. It’s priceless.

That doesn’t mean it’s all good stuff, though.

He wakes up one night with his room covered in webs, sticking to every single available surface, tying him up so he can barely move. His mouth runs dry, his throat aches. He blinks a few times and can’t get the gummy feeling to go away.

Patton, Patton I—I—

Virgil? Kiddo, can I come to you?

Help me—

“Hey, hey,” he hears not a moment later, right next to his head, “hey, kiddo, shh, you’re okay, I’m right here.”

“P-Pat?”

“Yeah, honey.” Patton waves his hand and a little glow appears in the corner of the room. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Virgil breathes, wincing when he feels the strands of the webs again. Patton makes a sympathetic noise.

“Do you want me to get rid of them?” At Virgil’s insistent nod, he waves his hand again and they vanish. “They’re gone now, kiddo, it’s okay. Can you sit up for me?”

Patton wraps his arms tightly around him and holds him close, warm, warm, warm, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay, nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

Another kiss. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I think—“ Virgil swallows— “I think that’s why the webs came out.”

Patton nods. “I can see they trapped a lot of it for you.”

Virgil blinks. “Wait, what?”

“The little buzzing things, the ones that love to fly around you.” He tips Virgil’s head to cup his cheeks, brushing his thumb along the curve of his face. “The ones I can dust off for you?”

“What about them?”

Patton nods toward the rest of the room. “Your webs were trapping most of them, kiddo, making it so you weren’t as badly affected.”

“O-oh.” He swallows again. “But I—I didn’t like it.”

“Making them when you weren’t in control?” Virgil nods. “I can understand that, it must’ve been scary to wake up with a room full of webs.”

Virgil nods again, shifting a little closer to Patton. Wait—

“If the webs were holding them,” he starts, “then why…why aren’t they coming back?”

Patton chuckles. “They know better than to try and touch you when I’m here.”

Virgil hums, burrowing into Patton’s chest and letting him idly flick away the few that dare get close. And yeah, that…that makes sense, but he would rather not be coughing up webs while he’s unconscious. For one, his throat still hurts.

Patton just gently lays his hand against Virgil’s neck and strokes, once, twice, three times, encouraging him to swallow. He does, sighing at the rush of warmth that comes with it.

“Good,” Patton murmurs, “do you want help to make the webs before you go back to sleep?”

“Help to make them?”

“We can set up a little bubble so they get caught, and so you won’t have to do it asleep.”

“You—you’d help me?”

Something flashes behind Patton’s eyes for a moment before it’s replaced by a soft smile. “Of course, sweetheart, I’ll always help you.”

Virgil shifts a bit closer. “Can we stay like this for a little longer first?”

“Of course, kiddo, you come here.”

The webs help. A little. It takes some getting used to, and there’s definitely still times when he wakes up and his throat is all gummy from nightmares, but it does help.

Then, of course, there are the new legs.

Virgil’s eyes shoot open as something cracks. He floats, unaware of what’s happening, as cracks continue to shake the floor of the room. His head rolls to the side. What’s happening? Why can’t he feel anything? There’s just this white-hot tinge to the corners of his vision, almost as if he’s springing up out of his body, what—

—no.

No, no, no, he made it out.

He was free, they were going to keep him safe, how—

He gasps.

Pain floods his senses, turning his blood white and his mouth opens in a silent scream. His jaw aches after the first few seconds and it aches, it truly does, and as his head lolls to the side all he can think about is how the wood at the bottom of the door doesn’t quite reach the floor.

A golden thread inside of him snaps taut and yanks.

“Virgil? Virgil!”

“J?”

“Yes, little mouse, it’s me,” Janus’s voice calls from somewhere above him, “I’m right here, darling, tell me what’s wrong.”

“It—it hurts, I—“

“Shh, shh—oh, darling.” A gloved hand touches his cheek to catch the tears. “Oh, little mouse, tell me what’s so awful, what’s hurting you?”

Another sharp crack rings out and Janus makes a noise.

“Virgil, you’re going to have to roll over.”

Moving of any sort feels like the actual worst, thank you very much.

“They’re trying to come out of your back, darling, any pressure on them is going to make it worse.”

Blinking through the haze of white, Virgil manages to stare up at Janus. He watches his mouth thin to a hard line.

“Come on, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, gently tucking his hand under Virgil’s cheek, “roll toward me, I’ll catch you, but you have to get off your back.”

At the gentle urging of the thread, Virgil closes his eyes and rolls.

“Good,” Janus soothes, cradling him as they lie down on the floor, “good job, darling, I’ve got you, little mouse, it’s alright.”

“What’s—what’s happening?”

“You’re changing, sweetie.” Janus rubs a circle into his lower back, away from the pain, “that’s all it is. Shh, shh, I know it hurts, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

“Make it stop,” he whines, burying his face shamelessly into the crook of Janus’s neck, “it hurts.”

“I know, sweetie, I know. You’re doing so well, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m right here.”

Janus wraps his arms around him carefully, avoiding the center of his back. One hand cups the back of his neck, another ruffling through his hair. Two stroke down his shoulders, trying to get the muscles to relax. The last pair sling around his hips and hold him close.

“I know it hurts, sweetie,” Janus whispers, “but you have to try and relax. Tensing up will only make it hurt more.”

“I can’t—“

“You can, sweetie, they’re almost out, it’s okay.” He tips his head to press a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “You’re doing much better than I did when my arms were first growing in.”

“R-really?”

“Yes, sweetie, really…oh, easy, little mouse, shh, just focus on me…”

Virgil clings onto him as his back keeps cracking, over and over. Janus is right, though, holding onto him makes it a little easier, especially when he reaches a hand up to brush the tears away.

“I’ve got you, Virgil,” he promises, “it’s almost over, you’re doing so well, just a little more, now, stay here with me…”

“I want it to stop, it fucking hurts.”

“I know, little mouse, I know.”

“Don’t think—“ Virgil gasps against his neck as another crack rings out, quieter this time, though— “don’t think that works anymore.”

“You’ll always be my little mouse,” Janus whispers, “but you can also be my little spider.”

Virgil blinks. His back still aches, but…the blinding white pain is gone. He tries to stretch—

—and freezes when new things respond in ways that do not make sense.

“Jan?”

“You’ve got new limbs, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, giving his hair a ruffle, “can you try and move them for me?”

Oh, he was not meant to have these muscles in these places. Still, he manages to figure out which ones he’s supposed to flex only for another jolt of pain to shoot through them.

“Shh, shh,” Janus shushes when he winces, “I know it hurts, but you’ve got to start building up a range of motion now, otherwise they’ll get sore and stuck very quickly.”

Virgil grits his teeth and bears it, listening to Janus’s gentle instructions on how to bend, unbend, and rotate the—four?—four new limbs coming from the center of his back. He definitely sheds a few more tears into the collar of Janus’s shirt, but by the time Janus rubs the back of his neck and tells him he’s all done, for now, his back does feel a little better.

“You did so well, sweetie, I’m so proud of you.”

“Can I never do that again?”

Janus chuckles. “Absolutely, little spider.”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Janus’s eyes widen as a brilliant blush starts to bloom over Virgil’s cheeks. “Well.”

“No.”

“But it’s been so long since I have seen you so flustered, little spider,” he purrs, gently knuckling the side of Virgil’s face, “can you blame me?”

“Stoppit.”

“Oh, darling, is it truly still so easy?”

“Well, it’s easy once I’m already here!”

“Mm.”

Virgil does not squeak, thank you very much, as Janus sits up and pulls him fully into his lap.

“And where is here, little spider,” he hums, bringing one hand up to cup his chin, “right…here?”

Well, there go Virgil’s speaking abilities.

Janus chuckles, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s certainly been a while since I’ve seen you speechless, darling.”

Virgil just mumbles and throws his arms around him.

“Oh, it’s okay, little spider,” Janus murmurs, softer this time, “I’m done now, you have my word.”

“Mean.”

“Yes, yes, I know, I’ve been very rude to you.” Another kiss on his cheek. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

“How?”

As an answer, he feels hands begin to rub gently at the muscles in his back, encouraging the last bit of cramps loose. An exhale tears itself out of his chest as he sags forward.

“Good,” comes the soft whisper, “good, little spider, just relax, I’ve got you.”

Virgil mumbles, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. “Hurts.”

“Still?” At his nods, Janus makes a noise of sympathy and redoubles his efforts. “It’s okay, little spider, I’ve got you, you’re here with me.”

Something dark shifts in his stomach again. He tucks his head firmly under Janus’s chin and takes a shaky breath.

“What is it, darling?”

“When I woke up,” he mumbles, “thought it was—that I—“

He swallows.

“…wasn’t sure if I was…back or not.”

Janus stills. The dark thing in the pit of Virgil’s stomach snaps.

“You are here,” Janus says, a growl tinging the edge of his voice, “you are here, with me, and you are safe.”

Arms wrap tightly around him.

“None of them will touch you again,” he promises, “I have you. I have you, little spider, you’re safe.”

Virgil just sits there, basking in the warm, golden glow, as Janus wraps the threads of Reality around them.

“Keep me?”

“I’ll keep you, little spider, I’ll always keep you.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

One last kiss pressed to his forehead. “Always.”

The limbs are…interesting. The first time Janus takes him to the mirror to see them, Virgil almost runs away.

They look like spider legs, all segmented and hairy, but they’re a little too…purple to be just normal spider’s legs. Janus walks him carefully through how to stretch them, how to use them, how to turn them this way and that until it feels a little more like Virgil’s supposed to have them. He doesn’t seem to have to build up their strength as he would a new arm or leg—well, a humanoid arm or leg—but figuring out how to use them takes…a little longer than he’d like.

And he never quite gets over how…wrong it looks.

Freak.

He does his best to hide it. It’s not like it isn’t expected, people don’t normally spontaneously grow limbs like, partway through their life anyway, let alone spider legs, so an adjustment period is expected, but…

Freak.

All things considered, he thinks he’s doing pretty well. He hasn’t lied to anyone—not that he really could—and no one’s asked him flat-out if he feels like they’re awful or anything, but…

Freak.

Then he makes his way back to his room as the sun sets one day and Roman is there, leaning up against the side of the house, waiting for him.

He looks up and smiles, waving to Virgil and beckoning him closer. Virgil goes, valiantly suppressing the shudder at how fucking warm Roman is as a hand comes up to cup his cheek.

Judging by the smile on his face, it’s not successful, but hey, he tried.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs, “can we talk for a moment?”

Virgil nods.

“Thank you, sweetheart, do you want to go inside, or…?”

“Sure.”

Roman lets Virgil lead him inside and pull him to sit down on the bed. He reaches out to push Virgil’s hair away from his face.

“Do you know why I’m here, sweetheart?”

When Virgil shakes his head, he scoots a little closer and rests his hand flat against his back, just below where the legs come out.

“…oh.”

Roman nods, rubbing little circles. “What’s troubling you, little honeybee?”

Virgil huffs, gesturing over his shoulder. “Don’t think that works anymore.”

“Mm, Janus said you’d say that,” he murmurs, shifting a little closer and lifting Virgil’s chin, “talk to me, sweetheart.”

Virgil shuts his eyes. A web crawls up into the back of his throat and he swallows it down, willing the buzzing things to stay away, held at bay only by the web still in his throat and the insistence that everything is going to be fine.

“…freak,” he mumbles eventually, much to Roman’s surprise, “they called me a freak.”

Roman’s hand stills on his back.

“I jus’—“ fuck, why is he crying?—“I jus’—they made sense, and I—“

“Don’t, sweetheart,” Roman says quietly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Virgil’s, “don’t do that to yourself.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he lets Roman pull him closer, fighting down the urge to sob.

“Yes, that’s it, come here—come sit with me—there,” he murmurs, sitting Virgil in his lap, “you’re not a freak, Virgil.”

He huffs. “Easy for you to say.”

Roman pulls back, frowning. “Why?”

Fuck. Well, now’s he got to explain himself.

“Um—“ and great, Roman’s not even doing anything and he’s bright red— “you don’t have any of—“ he waves to the spider legs— “you look like a normal human.”

He hesitates.

“…and you’re really pretty.”

Roman blinks. His lips part and his breath leaves him in a rush. Virgil winces.

“Sweetheart, do you think you don’t have value if you’re not pretty?”

“I mean…”

“No,” Roman growls, sitting up a little straighter and cupping V’s face in his hands, “no, Virgil, pretty isn’t some kind of rent you pay to exist in the world. You don’t owe anyone that, sweetheart.”

Virgil’s eyes widen as Roman holds him tightly.

“You have more to offer than just your outward appearance,” he says firmly, “so much more.”

“But I—I’m not—“ Virgil swallows. “I can’t do anything.”

“What do you mean you can’t do anything, sweetheart?”

“You guys, you can all—“ he waves his hands—“do things. I can’t. I’m just…here.”

“Oh,” Roman breathes as his face truly falls, “oh, little honeybee, you don’t have to be useful to be wanted.”

Wait.

What?

Virgil doesn’t—he doesn’t have to—

“What?”

Roman nods, pulling him closer still, “you don’t, sweetheart, we want you. We will always want you. You don’t have to do anything to earn it.”

Oh.

“You’re mine, little honeybee, as long as you want to be,” he murmurs quietly, “you don’t need to do anything to earn my trust or affection. It’s yours.”

Well, now Virgil feels stupid. The spider legs twitch unhappily over his shoulder. Roman catches it.

“Still not used to them yet, I see,” he murmurs, “that’s alright. I’m not trying to tell you you’re not allowed to feel upset, sweetheart, I promise.”

“I know.”

“Can I help,” he asks softly, “can I help you see they’re nothing to be ashamed of?”

“How?”

“Has anyone touched them yet,” Roman asks, “other than to help you learn how to use them?”

He shakes his head.

“May I touch you, sweetheart?” Virgil nods and Roman smiles. “Thank you. Now, come here—yes, that’s it—“

Virgil leans right up against Roman’s chest, letting him curl his arms around to scratch gently, gently at the very center of the four legs. It sends a jolt through him, every nerve buzzing.

“You don’t have to think right now,” Roman hushes when Virgil can’t find the words to say exactly how much this means, “not if you don’t want. You can just sit and feel, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Warm. Warm hands rubbing firmly up the limbs as Virgil’s frantic thoughts grind slowly to a halt. Then Roman’s hands find a spot just below the third segment and he groans, low and dark.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Roman soothes, squeezing just enough to rewire more of Virgil’s brain, “I’m right here, little honeybee, I’ve got you.”

It’s so much. It’s so much and every single hair on Virgil’s body stands. He hears Roman chuckle from far, far away and all he can do is whine. Roman shushes him, calling him ‘noisy’ in the most affectionate voice but it’s so much.

And yet, it feels like something’s missing. Like there’s an extra joint that isn’t quite sitting right yet, like there’s a layer in between the spider legs and his back. Roman keeps touching him, holding him close, but it’s not right.

“Roman,” he manages, just as Roman’s fingers slide around the base joint, “Roman—“

“Yes, little honeybee?”

“Magic.”

Roman stills and Virgil tries not to whine at the loss. “What?”

“Use your magic,” he says again, trying to clear his head enough to ask properly, “it feels—I can’t—they’re not mine yet.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “And you think that if I use my magic, it will help?”

“Please?”

“You don’t have to beg, sweetheart, you know I can’t ever say no to you.” Roman ruffles his hair. “But you know the rules, sweetheart.”

Virgil nods and sits up, leaning away to look at Roman properly. “If it’s too much or it feels like it wants me to want, I tell you and we stop.”

“And…?”

“And if I don’t like something.”

“Good.” Roman takes a deep breath. “Alright.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, little honeybee.”

“…still don’t think that works anymore.”

“Mm.” Roman tilts his head.

Virgil shifts as a smirk crawls over his face.

“Janus told me something else, you know,” he says softly as he reaches to coax Virgil back into his lap.

“…what?”

Red sparks curl up from his fingers. Virgil closes his eyes, waiting for the hand to land on his back or the legs again, only for them to fly opened, startled when Roman cups his chin.

“Wha—“

Oh.

Oh, no—Roman’s eyes darken a little, the sparks fizzing on the soft spot under his chin. He tilts his head to the side and leans closer.

“Hello, little spider.”

Virgil will deny the squeak he makes until the end of time. Roman chuckles and runs his finger lazily across Virgil’s jaw. The magic trails after him.

“Pretty little spider,” he coos, voice slipping back into that light, sweet, gentle thing that wriggles straight into Virgil’s chest, “blushy little spider.”

“R-Roman!”

“Hmm?” The finger swipes along the other side of his jaw. “What is it, little spider?”

All that comes out is a keen.

“You asked for this, little spider,” Roman reminds, tapping the tip of Virgil’s nose, “you asked for the magic.”

“The magic, not the flirting!”

“Oh, the flirting’s for me, little spider,” he coos, “just for fun. You’re so lovely, I can’t help it.”

“Mmm!”

“Is this not what you wanted, little spider?” When Virgil can’t say anything, Roman chuckles but lifts his fingers away to let him catch his breath. “What do you want, little spider?”

“You know what I want.”

“I do,” he says softly, “but I need you to say it for me. I don’t want to do anything without your consent.”

“…will you touch my legs, please?”

Roman smiles, running his finger up Virgil’s neck, up under his chin, lifting to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Good, little spider,” he whispers, reaching around to leave a small trail down the middle of Virgil’s back, shushing the light whine, “just relax, now, I’ve got you.”

Virgil melts, all but collapsing into Roman as his magic trails lightly up and down the legs, over his back, sometimes fizzling into his hair as he kisses Virgil’s head. His legs start to move of their own accord, pushing up into Roman’s hands as he rocks them slowly back and forth.

“Are you falling asleep, little spider? Does that feel good?” He feels Roman smile against his forehead. “You can sleep, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

The last of Roman’s magic fizzles away but his hands stay, rubbing, stroking, petting up and down, up and down. Roman’s so warm.

“Just rest, little spider,” Roman hushes, “you’re alright now, shh…”

He falls asleep to moonlight streaming in through the window, his head pillowed on Roman’s chest.

Somewhere, a purple thread winds itself into a braid next to a red thread, a green thread, a light blue thread, a dark blue thread, and a yellow thread.

‘Golden.��

He’s so pretentious, it’s fine.

Virgil’s home.

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your-eternal-muse · 5 years ago

Text

To hold on, To let go.

Heather Bonus Chapter.

Summery: In which you get to sneak a peek into the life of Dr. Spencer Reid, and one Aaron Hotchner.

Words: 1.7k because I have absolutely no self control

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, light swearing, and the fruition of an opinion of mine that is kinda controversial in the fandom, but I said what I said, and I ain’t backing down from it

A/N: Hi. So, I thought I would have both this chapter and chapter 9 ready to go to post at relatively the same time, but I was up for 18 hours straight and crashed before I could. I woke up because I was hungry and decided to finish this. That being said, hopefully, I can get chapter 9 up for you guys at some point tomorrow. I’ve just been really tired is all, but I’ll push through because I love this series so much. Anyway, enjoy! Oh, also, I didn’t name this one after a lyric because it didn’t really fit, but its a bonus so its fine.

~~~~~

45% of marriages end in divorce.

Spencer knew this.

He knew the odds of his marriage to Heather ending badly.

He just didn’t think it would be this soon.

He had expected it to be years down the road, when his hair was turning gray and his time at the B.A.U was in the past.

He hadn’t expected it to fail in mere months.

He expected it to be because of his job, or the fact that no matter how hard Heather tried, she never could quite get him to open up about the demons residing in his head.

Not because she had been cheating on him.

He felt like an idiot.

The signs were all there.

The sudden disappearances, the nervous tics whenever he asked a question she could never quite answer.

What kind of profiler was he if he couldn’t even tell that his wife was cheating on him?

He sat at his desk, alone in the bullpen, the only noise in the room coming from the video playing on his phone before him.

He couldn’t stop playing it, even though it killed him to watch.

He paused and played back the very beginning over and over again, watching her kiss that man in a way he thought was only meant for him.

He felt sick.

Knowing her lips had been on that man's hours before coming home and kissing him.

Knowing they had sex, and than having her come home and beg to be fucked by him.

He started the video again, watching Heather, the way her hands balled into his shirt, the sound of her laugh at the person behind her.

Then, his eyes start to drift.

He starts it again, this time watching the anger radiate off of y/n.

It was almost palpable.

He couldn’t help the warmth swarm his chest, circling his heart before squeezing tightly.

She was fiery.

The way the words came from her chest, how her shoulders were straight and her chin was raised, filled his stomach with a sense of pride.

When she said she loved him, she meant it.

“I found your letter. I was right about you.”

His eyes shift to the card currently laying on top of the stack of divorce papers laying on his desk.

He knows he should have hidden it better.

Stuffed it in a thick book and placed it on a high shelf, somewhere she never would have thought to look.

He shouldn’t have even kept it.

With his memory, he could read it over and over again in his head, and Heather would be none the wiser.

But there was something about tracing his fingertips over the ink, feeling the indents of her words in the paper.

It was physical evidence, that after all these years of thinking she didn’t feel the same, that he was wrong.

She loves him, as he loves her.

Yes, loves.

Not loved.

Spencer Reid, is in love with y/n y/l/n.

However, he can’t say he doesn’t love Heather.

He had convinced himself that y/n hadn’t felt the same, and had all but given up hope. So when a pretty girl offered her number to him one morning at a coffee shop, he accepted, forcing himself to move on.

And for a while, he believed that he was happy.

But it doesn’t work like that.

There were too many sleepless nights, too many words unsaid that kept him from fully committing to Heather, even if on paper it looked like he worshiped the ground she walked on.

He shouldn’t have proposed.

He had hoped y/n would say something, call him a fool, be selfish and kiss him in the middle of the banquet hall, not caring about what other people thought because it was only them existing at that moment in time.

But she didn’t.

So he did.

It was selfish of him.

To want another girl, while one who had claimed to love him hung on his arm.

He shouldn’t have danced with her.

He should have just smiled and thanked her for coming, ignoring the pain registering in her eyes.

She was intoxicating though.

And even though it was his wedding, he needed to let her know.

Let her know that he loved her, and that even if he didn’t have a choice, he would always choose her.

He would go and catch her without a thought's hesitation.

Last week, he found out she understood.

God, this is a mess.

He rubs his face, resting his chin on his hand as he reads through the papers again. Should he sign them? Should he give themselves another chance? Or should he say fuck it? Heather had her chance, and in the process broke him. He didn’t think it was worth it.

A door above him opens.

“Reid, can I speak with you?”

It wasn’t weird for Hotch to stay late.

It was for Spencer.

But he didn’t want to go home, where Heather would be inevitably waiting to try and plead with him to not go through it, where another fight is waiting to be fought, and going to the one place he truly wanted to, felt wrong.

It would put y/n in a position he never wants to put her.

So he stayed, and rewatched the video, and reread the papers, until he felt his eyes droop, and his heart rate slow.

Hotch had spent the last few nights watching him.

He could relate to how Spencer was probably feeling, and he wasn’t about to stand back and watch like he did y/n. He was going to help before it got to the extreme.

So Spencer set down the papers, put his phone in his pocket and walked up to meet Hotch in his office.

When he enters, Hotch motions for him to take a seat.

Spencer sits, curious and kind of anxious about the conversation that was about to be had.

“I just wanted to let you know, that I know what you’re going through. And that I sympathize with what you’re feeling. If you need to take any personal time, any at all, you can.”

The next statement pops out of Spencer's mouth before he can even think.

“You didn’t.”

Hotch doesn’t even blink, not the least bit fazed by the observation.

“I should have. And I wish I did.”

He takes a breath.

“I loved Haley. A part of me still does, and will always love her, even now. But I want you to know that I sympathize with how you feel on more than just the divorce.”

Spencer furrows his brow.

What?

Hotch had wanted to keep this from the team for a very personal reason.

He didn’t want anyone judging him for continuing to love her, even after she hurt him.

He didn’t want them to hate her after her passing.

He didn’t want Jack to grow up to despise his mother.

“I didn’t realize it at first. I’m sure my line of work didn’t help much. I was gone often, and for long periods of time, during which I have no clue what she did.”

Spencer couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Haley cheated on Hotch?

“But when I was home, she was distant. I again blamed it on the rift my job created, which I think is what drove her to do it in the first place.”

Hotch has never really talked about it out loud before now.

Was it bad, that he felt a little relieved, to finally get it out into the air?

“How did you find out?” Spencer's voice was soft, quite. He was afraid that if he spoke too loud, Hotch would back down, stop telling the story.

Hotch takes another deep breath, bringing forth the painful memory.

“It was a rare night where I was home. We had been arguing over an offer I had gotten here. It would have given me a 9-5 schedule, allowed me to be home for dinner and on the weekends, a shorter commute. She wanted me to take it, said it was a no brainer. I told her it was more complicated than that.”

Spencer is leaning forward onto his knees, hanging on to every word.

“We were talking about it, when our landline rang. When I picked it up, no one answered, so I hung up. Not ten seconds after, her cell phone started ringing.”

Why hadn’t Hotch told anyone?

Spencer was beginning to realize they had more in common than he thought.

“But what solidified it for me, was the fear in her eyes. She was petrified. I stared at her as her phone rang, and while she didn’t make a move to grab it, she crossed her arms, subconsciously telling me not to ask.”

He rubs his nose, and looks down at the files on his desk. “I did a little more research after that and found that I was correct.”

He folds his hands in front of him, the words becoming harder to say as he continues.

“What I’m trying to say, is that even when I loved her, even when I wanted it to work out, it didn’t.”

He was hoping Spencer would understand what he was implying. Hotch knew he was smart. It was getting to do something for himself that was the hard part.

Spencer’s head felt clear for the first time that week.

It had helped, hearing Hotch's own experience.

Hotch fought because he loved Haley, and he wanted to hang on to that as long as he could.

Spencer couldn’t wait to let go. That was the difference between the similarities.

Spencer nods, moving to stand up, his mind picking up speed as he did.

“If you ever need to talk about anything, and I mean anything, Spencer, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

A small smile graces Spencer’s lips. “I won’t.” He walks towards the door before pausing, and turning back around. “And Hotch,”

Hotch looks up from his paperwork.

“Thank you.”

Hotch smiles, soft and rare. “You’re welcome.”

Spencer makes his way back to his desk, sitting down, picking up the papers once again, digging a pen out of his satchel.

He flips through the papers, finding where x marks the spot.

He signs his name.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid series #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female!reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds series #cm #mathew gray gubler #song fic #heather #conan gray

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flydotnet · 3 years ago

Text

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled).

Give him some of your hatred. He's too nice for his own good.

I haven't touched this card in... some time, man. You know what I havn't also touched in years? Kingdom Hearts. Legit, I think the last time I had thought about it aside from a "man, Vector to teh Heavens rocks" was in 2018 where I decided my flat needed a Funko Pop figure of KH2 Sora (don't ask - I'm not sure myself of why. I think it was because I found it funny. I could probably stab someone with that bitch). And then Smash Ultimate did its thing, I got to taunt my friend who really didn't want Sora in (she was in the Phoenix Wright for Smash camp, I wasn't in any but hey I'll take the spiky haired doofus with the big key and the giant shoes any day). That Smash DLC got me thinking about KH again, and as I always do, I just cycle back to my childhood, the very first playthrough I've ever watched: French Kingdom Hearts 2, posted on Dailymotion in like 2008. I still have a ton of nostalgia for this game, to the point I hesitated buying a PS4 just to buy the port of the game and all of the other stuff and finally actually maybe see what KH3 was all about. Haven't done that yet. Woops. Anyway, yeah, this fic. I didn't think I've ever end up writing for KH due to its honestly confusing lore for my short attention span, but I had an itch I really wanted to scratch. There's one fic out there who did the job back in 2016-17, but hasn't been updated since, so I took the matter in my own hands and ended up making something different entirely. Woops. I kinda rewathed some of the KH2 endgame cutscenes and boss fights to refresh my memory but that's it, everything else is mostly based on memories and spending way too much time on TV Tropes. Are people in-character? Maybe? I hope? That'd be good. It was really fun, though. I'm not sure if I'll ever get back to that fandom (there's perhaps... one fandom of mine that's even older than this and that I've never touched again since I was 7, if you can believe it; and maybe I'd like to touch that fandom again one of those days). I took the prompt very liberatly (too much, as always), so now I really hope it somehow still fits the bingo square. If not... file this one under "Raspy Breathing", I guess?

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Hierarchy of Needs

Summary: He's exhausted, he's breathless and he wants nothing more than to go home with his friends; but he knows better than putting his own needs above those of a time-sensitive mission to save the world.

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (II, more specifically)

Wordcount: 3.6K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here. (As always, recommanded)

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

The air is tense around them and setting heavily inside his chest, burning its way through his airways if he takes in too sharp of an inhale. It’s not anything new, come to think of it (some worlds just are like that, here to kill you without meaning to if you move too quickly inside of them – and if he’s aware of one thing, it’s how fast he goes)… it’s just far stronger around here, for some reason.

Maybe it’s because they’re in the World That Never Was that the air is so much heavier than usual. The place reeks of an alien aura, as if it doesn’t even belong to the same system where everyone else was born and lives in. Maybe it’s because he knows time isn’t on their side – it’s never been but, usually, he’s too busy helping people out and fighting off whatever menace there is to realize just how badly the clock’s been ticking.

Now that they’re in the final place, that he had to fight someone in the centre of his mind (…or something like that. Donald and Goofy looked at him funny when he asked what happened, only to realize the stained glass he’d fought the figure on was oddly familiar in that way only fragments of dream feel like), that the dark streets of the empty city surround their trio, he’s never felt the heaviness of time more.

He suspects it to be just an effect on his mind, just like the battle on the stained-glass platform, just like the strange dreams he had had ever since he was a child. Sometimes, your mind plays tricks on you and it’s effective enough for you to believe it to be a reality or, even more viciously, external. Stress can cause you to think up pretty weird stuff, doesn’t it? They’re fighting for the sake of every world out there, of course his mind would be pressing him into being more effective. They’re all counting on him, don’t they?

There are all sorts of people who count on him: friends he hasn’t seen in such a long time that he’s afraid he’s forgetting their features, friends he made along the way, friends he’ll make someday, friends that will never be. Innocents and criminals alike, those who can defend themselves and those who can’t for whatever reason. Those who are aware of the wonderful worlds out there and those who’ll never be. So many people are counting on them, counting on him that it’s dizzying – and yet he does it, usually with a smile, because his mission is a rightful one and he can’t let anyone down.

Maybe, however, it’s just not him for once, because Donald and Goofy really have been staring at him funny for the past few, uh… days? Time’s been a blurry thing to be honest. It’s bound to happen when you hop from world to world, rushing to solve as many issues as possible before they can do too much damage, saving as many lives as possible even when you know you’re helping the enemy by saving these lives (and he’ll never forgive himself for that).

His companions have already cast some doubt on him. How many times has he heard some sort of “I’ll cover you, Sora!” over the past few days? He may not be the lightest bulb out there; he still knows his friends enough to easily notice when they’re subtly trying to convey him something. To be fair, perhaps the heaviness of the air and that of their duties has made it so he could’ve noticed it before. It’s not like he pays much attention to what he gets told on the battlefield, just makes sure to get rid of every wave of enemies sent their way…

You know, maybe the heavy air is just inside his mind. Maybe Donald and Goofy really aren’t the ones who react weirdly to the place, maybe it’s just him. It wouldn’t be the first time he was treated like a special case by the rules of the universe. He’s, as far as he knows, the only Heartless to have ever come back to their original human form without becoming a complete monster in the process of losing their heart.

It’s not that it’s his burden to carry that bothers him about it: it’s that the timing is ill-fitting. He has to rush ahead full-stop now, stop Organisation XIII, stop Xemnas, stop the artificial Kingdom Hearts or whatever, find Kairi, find Riku – has to save people and put bad guys in their place, and yet he coughs when he screams too loudly and gets dizzy when he dashes too far ahead. Not that he’d let that slow him down no matter how many times it tries to slow him down: there is too much at stake and too little time to take care of it.

It’s because he knows how important this is that, no matter how many times the Kingdom Key feels heavier in his hand and no matter how much damage he takes in battles, he picks it back up again, stifles a cough, puts on his best smirk and marches on without much of an actual complaint.

He picks the fight back up, swallows the heavy air and the foul taste in his mouth, and continues fighting because that’s the minimum required from him – all he really wants is to find his friends and go home, but for now, he’ll pretend like he’s the saviour of the world and push through the heavy air.

It’s… it’s been a lot of things to internalize for such a short time – hours, barely.

Kairi is here, she’s fine, she’s fighting to the best of her abilities. She’s changed a lot since he last saw her, obviously, but that’s not for the worst, far from it. He just didn’t know how to react to all of the change when he hadn’t seen her for so long. The longer hair suits her, so does the Keyblade. He’s just so glad she’s still here, that this isn’t yet another dream flaunting at him what he wants the most. She seemed as shaken as he was to reunite.

Riku’s still alive, thank the skies or whomever rules over the worlds. He has taken the shape of their former greatest enemy, but it’s still him, still his good ol’ friend with him he’s had ups and downs, and Sora broke down when he realized it was indeed Riku and nobody else. Kairi had to help, of course, because Riku was about to leave once again because, to him, he doesn’t deserve to be redeemed or whatever. Sora, of course, doesn’t buy a word of it – doesn’t mean Riku does, doesn’t mean it won’t take some will, but Riku is alive, he’ll be fine, he’ll recover from the darkness. He doesn’t have to be scared anymore (which one?).

Roxas is – was – his Nobody; he had forgotten he had even been a Heartless at some point before someone spelt it out for him. He wonders if Roxas even still exists somewhere inside of him or if he vanished the moment they reunited. To say he wasn’t even conscious for that… it felt like the waste of a life, no matter how much he tries to convince himself that it had to be done, that Roxas was only a part of him. If Roxas is the hooded figure from that weird battle on the stained glass platform, then he had the rights to be resentful about losing his autonomy.

It’s been a lot over a couple hours at best and the air hasn’t lightened up. If anything, it’s gotten worse.

They’re still in The World That Never Was, after all. Even worse, they’re now in Organisation XIII’s lair, the last step to cutting whatever plan Xemnas has come up with short and save everyone from imminent doom. The air can’t have gotten any lighter because the pressure on everyone’s shoulders keeps increasing as time ticks away, eats at the worlds’ strength, as the artificial heart-shaped moon high in the pitch-black sky grows.

Sora isn’t even near close to admit to it, but he wishes he could have a full breath of air one of these days, possibly of some that smells like iodine, like home. He misses the sea, the sun, the sand – everything that this pristinely white fortress doesn’t have. They’ll all sleep on the Gummi Ship and nobody complains because that’s all they have – that is, if they even have the time to sleep. It’s not like that factor was ever in their favour, isn’t it?

No, they don’t, and now Kairi and Riku are the ones who get to notice how his voice rasps when he isn’t careful enough. His focus keeps slipping whenever a noise drills into his headache, echoing in thumps between his temples and putting pressure behind his eyes. It’s a miracle his nose isn’t clogged – thank goodness for that, it’d have made things so much harder than they ever needed to be.

It’s harder to focus on what’s at hand, now that he knows Kairi and Riku are safe and fighting alongside him – or maybe it’s because he’s tired, he wants to smell the iodine air that doesn’t sit on his lungs as he tries to fight his way through the Castle, barely paying attention to what’s actually at stake because his main goal is done: if he didn’t really save them, he’s reunited with his friends, and really, if he’s still running, it’s because he needs to prove to Riku he can do good in this world and because he knows he has other friends who count on him.

Riku teases him about being out of breath after running pathetically short distances, Sora laughs them off, of course, because that’s the first joke he’s heard his old pal crack in so long it’s a blessing on his ears – and then he erupts into a coughing fit and Riku has stopped even chuckling.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” His friend asks, voice hesitant.

A cynical who cares? People need me running goes through his mind, but dies out before he puts on his best façade. Instead, he’s smiling, pressing a hand against the right side of his chest as he snuffs out a hiss of pain.

“We should continue,” he replies, eternally out of breath. “Xemnas… ain’t waitin’ for us…”

If he isn’t mistaken, he can see Riku cringing at his voice. To be fair, it’s tearing his throat apart to speak.

“Spare it. You’ll need it for when we actually fight Xemnas.”

He nods as he summons his Keyblade again, fiddling with the keychain before finally resuming running. The sooner they’re done, the lighter the air is going to get.

Sora barely has an idea what’s even happening anymore.

It’s not like he’s not trying – he is, his brain just keeps thinking about everything else! – but everything keeps looping. The air is hot then cold, it keeps grating against him, and it gets heavier with each step and each word. Every room is the same, same colours, same shapes, the only distinctions are whatever happens in them… and then they just jump around a fortress, take down reactors, or something.

The only room with a slightly different flavour (and isn’t a giant machine) is some sort of balcony where he proceeds to bash Xemnas’ head with Riku, Donald and Goofy. Of course, Riku gets to do most of the leeway, and while Sora would have usually remembered about his competitive streak there (Kairi has teased him on it enough time for it to be engraved into his mind for the rest of his life), this time, he just gets to stare into the void for most of the fight, Donald trying to figure out what’s wrong between dispensing two cure spells.

It doesn’t mean he does nothing and just sits around. He’s just, well… a single hit from Xemnas to the right side of his chest was enough to make him cough up something weird. The pain hasn’t subsided since and the rest of the fight was a chore, but really, when has fighting Organization XIII not been at best a chore and at worst felt like killing someone with an actual heart? (The disconcerting feeling of watching Saïx, a man who took Kairi as his prisoner for way too long and just stared down at him as he was finally showing some sort of limit to his resolve, asking for a heart still lingers, somehow).

He still fights, despite the shortness of breath, despite the shivers wrecking his frame, despite the pain in his chest. He has no choice, everybody depends on him and none of them has the time for his body to stop acting up, for the sweat to stop running rampant and for the air to get more comfortable to breathe in. Jumps around, destroys reactors, makes funny faces at Riku once they’ve been there, done that and he starts being all dark and broody again. (He’s missed the little things like Riku’s laugh).

The ground shakes, sending him into a dizzy spell he barely recovers from without crashing into it.

He does get to watch Naminé and Roxas reunite – finally gets to see Roxas with his own two eyes emerge from his body – and Kairi makes him promise they’ll see each other every day so their Nobodies (Naminé is Kairi’s Nobody… right? Otherwise she wouldn’t be doing the same thing as Roxas can, right?). She also asks him if he’s fine, if he doesn’t really want to go home with His Majesty and Donald and Goofy and Riku. She’s insistent enough that it feels like she may carry him to home herself if he doesn’t say yes quickly enough (too bad his throat can’t pronounce much anymore, huh?).

With the way she’s suggesting it, the day isn’t quite over, but she really wants him to go home, her cold hand holding his clammy one, and Riku agrees. If it was any other day, he wouldn’t have hesitated a single second. In fact, even today he’s not hesitating, he’s just taking… a long time to come. His feet hurt and his breath really doesn’t fare much better.

It’s another dizzy spell that prevents him from entering the dark portal in time to leave before Xemnas, who of course wasn’t dead yet, wreaks havoc once more. Trapped behind, having to watch the portal close, is Riku who was trying to prevent his friend from diving nose first into the floor. As Sora recovers his balance, they both watch a green light far away

It’s not like they’ve got the choice, right? It’s fight or die and, no matter how poorly he feels, that second option is out of the question. Not when he’s with Riku, not when Kairi waits for the both of them at home, not when he still has to thank Naminé, not when he promised every single friend made along the way to visit him again. He can’t let anyone down, can’t let Xemnas win this.

With Riku’s at the helm of the small spaceship, they follow Xemnas into oblivion to the next phase of the fight for the sake of the worlds, summoning the Kingdom Key again despite how much it wants to slip from his hand.

He broke his rib, he’s sure of it. He’s absolutely busted a rib, or two, or three, or four – how many ribs does a human have, actually? He’s never learnt that, just learnt what a rib was through breaking one who knows how long ago. Not that he’s preoccupied about how many of those he has broken or bruised out of some other number. It’s not like they’re not, you know, fighting for the sake of the worlds, above their own survival, their way out of this place with no door, no way out.

He’s not sure of what gives him the feeling he’s busted those ribs. It has to be the burning pain sitting in his lungs, on both sides probably, cutting his breath short. It’s like his chest is bruised on the inside and then someone stabs him there as soon as he takes a breath. Sometimes, it’s literal, but most of the time, there’s no weapon even near his abdomen to do so, and instead he gets stabbed in the leg. He doesn’t have the time to dwell on a pesky injury anyway.

They fight some sort of fallen king, partake in spaceship battles, end up back in a similar platform to earlier where they fight Xemnas two-on-one, no matter how much it doesn’t feel like that – not that his injury and whatever else is making the air painful to inhale would have mattered.

To their luck, they’re both fighting together, toe to toe. Sora isn’t sure of what it is, but something is making it so he doesn’t feel the pain too much. Maybe it’s because he keeps using cure magic on the both of them because Riku doesn’t quite have that in his arsenal of spells. Maybe it’s because, sometimes, when you really have to accomplish something, life is a little more generous with you and grants you more energy.

He still coughs because only the sensation of pain has subsided. Each fit goes deeper than the last, tears his throat even rawer as it does, yet he spits out whatever he has to spit and he continues fighting – reflects lasers, strikes with his weapon, coordinates hits, gets caught by Xemnas and bled dry until Riku saves him. It lasts for what feels like hours, occasionally stopping and hoping Riku is managing on his own because he can barely keep it together, let alone stand, hands covered in sweat and eyes closing on their own.

He still coughs, but he also continues fighting until they’re sure Xemnas can’t fight back, can’t do more harm.

Their last strike happens when he’s supposed to take an umpteenth breather until his instinct acts before he can really register why it’s kicking. Riku is about to get hit by Xemnas right into the chest, perhaps even through the heart as a last-ditch attempt at getting the upper hand, black particles already emanating from the Nobody. Of course, no matter what he does, Xemnas is bound to disappear and return into the void he came from sooner rather than later, even if he takes out one of them with him as he does.

Sora, however, wants none of that. He’s not fought this far, this hard for Riku to kneel last second; so he launches himself between the two, taking a hit right into the right side of his chest, right under the jacket that flew out of the way at that very moment – the sound of something shattering echoes in the void and searing pain gets a scream out of him. Riku, on the other hand, keeps his calm and manages to gather their hands on the Kingdom Key to hit Xemnas one last time before the searing agony can really register in his friend’s brain.

They win the battle, save the world, get lost on the way home; yet everything is so black, so blurry, so humidly hot that Sora doesn’t really know what happens when and who says what for most of the journey back from oblivion.

What greets him isn’t the iodine air of the sea. It’s not his mother’s worried voice because he keeps disappearing from her life and reappearing with too many stories to tell and just as many unfortunate side effects to omit from them. It’s not even the silent purring of the Gummi Ship, the one that gets on your nerves after a while but sounds soothing when you’ve not known the feeling of safety for days on end.

No, instead, it’s a blurry ceiling – and then it hits him. This still isn’t Destiny Island, and it stings a little to realize, but this is one of the closest things to home anyway, this is Radiant Garden.

Seems like he’s been asleep for some time, since both Riku and Kairi are sleeping on chairs, both in the mot uncomfortable of positions: Kairi has her arms folded on the bed and her back all around, Riku’s head is titled backwards, his arms crossed. Neither of them snore, no matter how extra Riku looks in his sleep with his wide intakes of air.

He’s feeling distant from his own body – a side effect of a fever he forgot he had before he fainted somewhere along the line. His recollection is slow and fuzzy for the most part, but he does know they beat the leader of Organization XIII and Riku must have hauled him back to safer shores after he was unable to move. He sure feels like he’s made out of lead at the moment, not even able to lift up a finger.

A knock on the door makes him lift his head. He can’t quite speak because even he knows what being voiceless feels like – and if he was dumb enough not to, then the breathing mask over his mouth would give him a severe hint or two. With the fuzz vanishing the pain is coming back – man is he sore, but hey, he can’t not smile at Donald and Goofy poking their heads through the doorway, worry over their faces but still giving him a reassuring smile as they enter the room.

He’s still too tired to do much of anything – and, frankly, seeing his friends sleeping so soundly lulls him – so he gathers all of his energy to give a thumbs up before falling back asleep, finally putting himself before the rest of the world.

#bad things happen bingo #kingdom hearts #race against the clock #my writing #may tag this later when it's not 2AM and my brain's back to functioning #bthb

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project-ohagi · 4 years ago

Text

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks x Reader

Buy me a coffee!! <3

[FYI]: You're whisper-singing this to each other ^^

-----

Temptation, enchantment, stars dancing against a backdrop of liquid gold...those eyes belied his humanity. How could such perfection be constrained to the land and sky below the heavens?

"You know I want you...

It's not a secret I try to hide.

I know you want me,

So don't keep sayin' our hands are tied."

Call it a tryst, a forbidden partnership...a gaping wound in the fabric of society, in which sin will fester forever. Call it dangerous, deem it disgraceful, but a word's significance falls victim to fluctuation - to desperate and direful minds. Their guise of concern remained unheeded; Keigo embodied beauty and wit beyond all comprehension.

"You claim it's not in the cards,

And fate is pullin' you miles away,

And out of reach from me"

Another life, a dream, a fairy-tale...a faraway kingdom, a teahouse nestled between the realms of mortal and fae, or perhaps something entirely unremarkable...but together, you planned to venture. The lyrics of your song whispered a love so sempiternal, ghosting across lips and conjuring sleepy smiles, as you swayed to the rhythm of a single heartbeat.

"But you're here in my heart,

So who can stop me if I decide

That you're my destiny?"

The sun served as Keigo's sole rival, but little competition was ever presented. A lifetime draped in darkness delighted in its infinite superiority to a lifetime without your beloved. The latter would be courtesy of a nightmare - never of a waking wish. The opportunity for doubt and regret had sailed by in the twilight. To it, neither of you had borne witness; a romantic entanglement of limbs and gentle breaths had sounded far too appealing. Every moment spent in the absence of a feathery embrace was torture, every reflection of the past - your past...interconnected, and now cherished so dearly - was bliss.

"What if we rewrite the stars?

Say you were made to be mine.

Nothing could keep us apart.

You'd be the one I was meant to find..."

Yet...you both understood the world for its acrimony...its frostbitten core. You weren't made for each other - not in the truest sense, by instinct or divinity. His arms weren't supposed to be your sanctuary...his wings weren't supposed to grant asylum to your battle-weary body...his love wasn't supposed to rain down upon you, echoing the sentiment that burrowed inside your heart. The mere suggestion of accord between yourselves and this world was likely a false and cruel jest, though it torched your embers until they burned beyond control.

What if...what if it was possible...?

"It's up to you, and it's up to me.

No one can say what we get to be...

So why don't we rewrite the stars?

Maybe the world could be ours,

Tonight..."

No...it was a folly, entirely divorced from reason.

Nothing material dissuaded those whose hearts greyed at the edges, and yet...your pursuit was forbidden. But 'surrender' was another word to which you paid no due regard. Villain...hero...who would care upon your deathbeds?...When you died at love's behest?

"You think it's easy...

You think I don't wanna run to you,

But there are mountains...

And there are doors that we can't walk through."

It carries such detriment, but on some odd ground, it became the epitome of joy. The spilling of the confessional waterfall became the greatest-worst mistake of the epoch. Intertwining fingers, lips that joined in a graceful tango...a mutual love - devotion...it was devotion, perhaps even worship.

"I know you're wondering why because we're able to be

Just you and me within these walls...

But when we go outside, you're gonna wake up and see

That it was hopeless after all..."

The Adonis to your Aphrodite, master of the hunt and incomparably gorgeous, Keigo's worth far exceeded your own. His birdbrained wiles reduced your legs to jelly, and your mind to mush. Your Keigo, your knight in faux fur...your warm and welcoming saviour - he who insisted that lovers, regardless of dynamics, should never live apart....

"No one can rewrite the stars...

How can you say you'll be mine?

Everything keeps us apart,

And I'm not the one you were meant to find..."

This love was prone to squalor, doomed to failure, but oh so delectable.

"It's not up to you,

It's not up to me,

When everyone tells us what we can be...

How can we rewrite the stars?

Say that the world can be ours,

Tonight..."

The vestigial traces of hair that peppered his chin, the memories queueing on his tongue, just waiting to be recalled, the glimmer of mischief behind every glance, whether fleeting or eternal...you took inventory of these each morning and each night, praying that he never allowed sadness to spirit his smile away.

"All I want is to fly with you,

All I want is to fall with you,

So just give me all of you!"

But society, conventions...life, fought against this union. It felt impossible. Keigo disagreed.

"It feels impossible...

It's not impossible...

Is it impossible?

Say that it's possible!"

"We're together because we need to be, angel. To Hell with anyone who thinks this is wrong...I've never been more sure of anything." It didn't arise from an argument, but frayed nerves and half-broken hearts. Four years later, and you loved more fiercely than any wedlock twain.

"How do we rewrite the stars?

Say you were made to be mine?

Nothing can keep us apart,

'Cause you are the one I was meant to find!"

The very nature of your...'occupation', resisted Keigo's dream of marriage. Perhaps it was silly, or even childish, to wish for a domestic life, without the complication of heroics or beck-and-calls, but...he wanted to call you his own. Officially.

"It's up to you,

And it's up to me.

No one can say what we get to be!

And why don't we rewrite the stars?

Changing the world to be ours..."

"Takami (Y/n), has a nice ring to it, don'tcha think?" The futility of such a question had crushed his soul, but persistence usually paid off...right?

"C'mon pretty bird, we could get married in secret or something? I'm sure I could find somewhere...someone to officiate it? I just wanna be with you, so badly. Please...if it's impossible...please take my last name anyway? C'mon, I'm begging you, (Y/n)...be my wife?"

You wanted to.

Of course you wanted to!

"You know I want you...

It's not a secret I try to hide.

But I can't have you...

We're bound to break and my hands are tied..."

But...it was such a hopeless plight.

[Word Count: 1087]

#my hero academia #mha hawks #hawks bnha #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #rewrite the stars #songfic #bnha hawks songfic #pleading hawks #pining #romance

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realm-sweet-realm · 4 years ago

Text

Close Call

Okay, so this is going to be heavier than the stuff I usually write. If that’s not your cup of tea, don’t worry! I have something much more fun and visceral in the works and I plan on dropping it next Wednesday (nine days from now).

---

It was the early morning hours when Shawn returned home from a night of drinking like any other. He and Grant and Lacie had played cards, pool, and darts (the latter they'd played in such a state of intoxication that it was lucky they hadn't hurt anyone). Shawn was glad that Grant had showed up this time. They'd been dating for several months now and probably still were. It was hard to tell. Grant hadn't had the time or "hadn't been up" to going out anywhere in a month, and it had Shawn wondering if he'd just tapped out of the relationship. He had seemed worse for wear lately and of course things at Joey Drew Studios hadn't gotten easier on anyone, so maybe he wasn't lying. At very least, this night had been great, just like things had been before (well, before Grant left a bit early in tears. Sometimes booze just did that to him and he needed to sleep it off), so maybe everything was about to go back to normal. On that comforting note, Shawn dragged himself to bed.

Shawn was awoken by the ringing of his phone. The voice on the other side struck him with fear- it was Grant, and he sounded terrified.

"Shawn, get over here right now. I did something stupid. Please, come here. Help me."

"I'll be right there," Shawn promised.

The door to Grant's house was unlocked. The house was deafeningly silent.

"Grant?" Shawn called. Nothing. Shawn checked around the house. Once he came upon the bathroom, which reeked of alcohol and vomit, he knew he'd found the place. Clicking the lights on, he found his boyfriend passed out face-down on the floor, surrounded by empty or half-empty bottles of pills.

The next twenty minutes were an absolute blur, not helped by the substantial amount of alcohol still in Shawn's system. Shawn remembered calling an ambulance and waiting for it to arrive with his boyfriend unconscious in his arms. He remembered picking up two sheets of paper, which he'd vaguely identified as a suicide note, from the floor. He remembered crying, and panicking, and confusion. Soon enough, though, Shawn was being reassured by a paramedic that given how recently he'd consumed the pills, Grant would almost definitely make it.

The next day, Shawn took out the letter. It had clearly been written ahead of time, unless one of Grant's hidden talents was managing such neat handwriting while heavily drunk. Shawn wondered if that meant that Grant had planned to do this. Slowly, he forced himself to consume its contents, line by line.

If you are reading this letter, I am dead of suicide. I promised myself that I'd never do this. It's been a temptation at the back of my mind for long enough, however, that I thought I should get out what I would want to have out, just in case. I feel like if it ever does happen, it will be in a moment where I'm barely in control of myself.

The first thing I'm going to do is to write out why I promised myself I wouldn't. There are three reasons why. The first is because my mother is the kindest, most loving person in the world, and I know she'd be devastated if I killed myself. There's a good chance she'd end up dead of suicide as well in that situation, and I would never want to cause that. The second reason is for the light of my life, Emily. She has so much promise in her. She has my eyes, the curiousity I had when I was younger, and thankfully just a touch of my sensitivity. She loves me, and I'm trying to be the force for good in her life that my mother was in mine. I would never give her the pain of losing a parent, and I want to see her grow up. The third reason is that I have friends that make me happy, and days when I genuinely want to be alive. Sometimes it feels like life is drudgery, but that's when I most need to remember that it isn't always like that.

Unfortunately, because this will be written ahead of time, I won't be able to say what specifically caused me to go through with this. What I will say, though, is that my life feels like it's falling apart, even when it isn't. My worries about losing my job aren't completely unfounded, given that working at Joey Drew Studios is most often like bailing water out of a sinking ship. I don't know how realistic it is to believe that my career in this industry will be over after that, since I'll have two failed businesses on my record and nothing else. It's hard to tell when I'm being realistic and when I'm letting pessimism get the better of me. I worry constantly about losing the people in my life that make it tolerable, and I don't know if that's realistic either- whether they're getting sick of me or not. Sometimes, it feels like like life is a pointless struggle against the inevitable. I have better days and worse days of course, but, well, if I didn't feel like this a substantial amount of the time, I wouldn't be writing this letter.

Whoever it is that's reading this, you could not have prevented this, it is in no way your fault, and I'm sorry for putting you through it.

—-

There was a banging on Lacie's door. "Lacie! Lacie, open up!"

Lacie, groggy and still in her pyjamas, opened up. "What?"

"I need your advice. Badly."

Lacie could see how distressed he was. "Come on in."

A few minutes later, They were sitting across from each other in Lacie's living room, Shawn had explained what had happened the night before, and Lacie had read the note. It might have been a violation of privacy to show it to Lacie, but he needed her advice.

"Wow, that is serious. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, that's the way they made it sound. I'm going to see him as soon as there's visitin' hours. Just... what do I say to him after this?"

"I don't know."

"Well, if it were Abby what would you do?"

"Abby wouldn't put me in this situation." Lacie saw Shawn getting indignant. "Calm down, I'm not saying 'because she's so strong and he's so weak.' But we've been together for two years, we live together, and we're at the stage where we owe it to each other to look after ourselves and be honest if we're going through issues like this. So, yeah, she'd never catch me off guard like this. Clearly, you two aren't at that point, or at least he doesn't think you are. So, here's my advice: make sure he's getting professional help, and then ask yourself if this is the person you want a partnership with. Also, to temper your expectations: whatever his problem is, you can't solve it, it won't go away immediately, and it's ultimately his responsibility to fix it. If he won't be honest with you about stuff like this, you're under no obligation to help him with it. Honestly, if you do stick with him, chances are that nothing in your relationship will change and in a couple weeks this'll just be an awful memory."

"Well, that's a bunch of heartless nonsense. But you're probably right." Shawn honestly didn't know how to feel about any of it, but he felt like he had to say something. He didn't find it terribly useful since his problem wasn't that he didn't know whether to stay with Grant, it was that he didn't want him to die or to want to be dead.

Lacie shrugged. "I mean, I'm just an untrusting old sea hag. If all you want is dating, or if you honestly think a partnership with him is possible and a good idea, knock yourself out, I guess."

"Okay." Shawn got up to leave.

"Hey. Best of luck, Shawn. I'm always here for you. No matter what you choose to do, here."

—-

Grant was still asleep when Shawn was allowed in to see him, but there weren't any obvious signs of physical damage on him. Shawn gently shook him awake. "Hey... ah just wanted to check in and make sure everything was okay with you. Ya gave me quite a scare last night."

Grant turned to look at him. His movements suggested that he was feeling pretty weak from whatever he'd taken last night. "Oh. Hey, Shawn. According to the nurses, I'm fine. I have to stay a few more hours to get tested for organ damage, but that's it. What... happened last night? I remember I was with you for a while. How did I end up here?"

Oh, Shawn did not like this situation. He didn't like it at all. "How much do you remember?"

"I was drinking with you and Lacie for a while. And... I had a dream last night where I killed myself. But it had to have been a dream, see? I woke up for a minute and I felt you holding me. You must have come home with me after we went to the bar, right?"

"Oh, well, yes. That's what happened. But you... you got alcohol poisoning."

Relief rushed over Grant's face. "Thank God. That's all it was?"

"Yeah. You were trying to keep up with me shot for shot." Shawn gave Grant a little jab with his elbow in a sad attempt to act casual. "Ya really shouldn't do that. I'm a professional, after all."

Grant forced a smile. "Got it."

"Umm... listen, Grant? I love you, and I care about you, and you said some pretty concernin' things last night. Is there anything you need to talk about?"

"No, I'm okay. Sorry for worrying you."

"No. It's fine. Ya want company?"

"Honestly, I'm feeling pretty sick. Can we catch up another time?"

"Okay. See you then."

"Okay. I love you, Shawn."

Shawn got up and left. In the hallway, he dug the note out of his pocket and looked at it one last time, trying to wrack up the courage to go back and admit everything. Instead he crumpled it up and threw it away. Nothing had happened last night. Soon, Grant would go home, find the empty pill bottles on his bathroom floor, connect the dots, and knowing him, probably keep that revelation to himself. And that was okay, right? As Lacie said, it was his responsibility to take it as a wake-up call and deal with whatever it was that had made him do it. Lacie would think this was okay, right? Shawn hoped so. It felt so wrong.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #shawn flynn #grant cohen #lacie benton #my fanfiction #tw suicide #just to be totally clear: I don't completely agree or disagree with Lacie. It's just what I thought she would think.#Also this isn't anti-grant x shawn at all- I like that ship #grant x shawn

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #451

“taste the waste of their god’s grace & spit your hate upon your young”

Who are you subscribed to on YouTube? A shitload of people. Do you like to go to the farmer's market? Yeah, sure. What will (or was) the color of your wedding dress be? Probably black. What's your favorite melon? I don't really like melons, actually. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :( When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with? Literally every day. Seriously. It's funny, I dread fighting to sleep at night, but I also just want it to be time to sleep so time will pass. My life is just so fucking boring that I just... wait for something exciting to happen. Name one person you've never had a fight with: Tez. What are you currently listening to? "Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment. What would you rather have: cat or dog? I prefer cats. Who is your least favorite person in real life? Probably my sister's husband. Do you ever watch anybody's live stream of... anything, really? I'll sometimes watch live let's plays. Does your house have security cameras? No. If you go grey as you age, would you dye your hair or let it be? I'll be dyeing it. What was the last establishment you stopped going to due to bad service? What happened? I'm not sure. What soundtrack do you listen to the most? Silent Hill 2's, definitely. Was there a family secret you weren’t told about until you were an adult? I don't know if it's really a secret, but I didn't know until this year that my dad did some really dangerous drugs before us kids were born. Do you have an opinion most people you meet seem to disagree with you? Yes. What’s something you like to have many options to choose from? Food, ha ha. Feels great to have a full kitchen after a grocery trip. What’s the strangest decorative object you own? Nothing "strange" to me. What’s a thing you couldn’t imagine doing with your life right now? One biggie is having a baby. I just... could not imagine. My life would plummet. What’s been your proudest moment? Graduating in the top percentile in my high school graduating class. What’s the filthiest non-pornographic movie you’ve seen? Omfg, Sausage Party. That movie was so gross. Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals? Thankfully, no. I don't even think I could befriend someone who doesn't like animals. Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts? No. Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal? Yeah, like me with whale sharks. Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer? Not really, no. Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills? Amy Lee's. And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand? Yeah, such as Bob Dylan. Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf? Tui T. Sutherland, but only because I read their series Wings of Fire. Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today? I'm sure on Facebook at some point. Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? Does the freezer count? If so, this Healthy Choice grilled chicken pesto bowl I have in there. I am like addicted to them. Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? I don't know. If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it? It varies month-to-month. Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to? I had my Markiplier tattoo essentially redone by a better artist. I also plan on getting my "ohana" tat covered, as well as my "how rare and beautiful it is to even exist" one (I adore the quote, but it's not an original design, which I don't like having anymore), and I want to move and redesign my "perfectly flawed" one because I want a bigger tattoo in its location. Can you remember the last time you had a sudden change of mind? Yeah; I'm pretty sure I like-like my friend Girt now, something I was never entirely sure about. When was the last time you did something on a whim? *shrug* Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you? Well, I guess both, but Dad didn't do a lot of the teaching part about life and stuff. Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No. Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’ Yes. Colleen tried that with me and Girt and only succeeded in making us very uncomfortable. She said something I wanted to slap her for that I won't repeat. What is your card game of choice? Magic: The Gathering. What is your favourite books series? I think my favorite series of all time was the Shiloh trilogy. I adored both the books and movies. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? You'd better give me landmarks, ha ha. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Of course. What was your favourite gym class moment? There're such things as GOOD gym memories in school? Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? Yes. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? No, I always thought it was very flattering that they even wanted mine. Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie? The Phantom Virus one. I had the video game as a kid, too. Could never beat the damn thing. Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down? No? I don't like seeing children - or anyone - fall. Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past? So, this really only happened once, and it was coincidentally the day I learned of her pancreatic cancer, but before Mom told me. I had an assignment to interview someone of an older generation about how various sources of media affected their lives, like the development of TV and such, and she really got into it. It was very interesting to learn about. Do you have a crush on someone? I guess I do idfk. If so... what does his/her name begin with? "D." What attracts you to them? More than anything, the fact he's been there for me without fail. Both single and when I was with Jason and he was interested in me, he's just... been there and has made an effort since high school to be in my life in one way or another. Do they know that you like them? Not anymore, no. We dated for a few months, but I broke up with him because he felt more like my brother, so I would assume he doesn't think I do. Maybe he still is family to me. I really don't know what I feel. If they don't know, why didn't you tell them? I might at some point, idk. We just haven't talked in a while. Name two people that you miss: Jason and Megan. Have you ever seen Titanic? When I was in the hospital, yes. Everyone was crying, lmao. Have you ever swam with dolphins? No, but I would. When was the last time you had a stomachache? Now. Mother Nature finally visited me after three whole fucking months and is v angry. What's going to bed early for you? Like 7:00. Do you want to have a big family in the future? Of pets! Human kids ain't for me. What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush? Hell if I know. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes. I got Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? I did on my second dosage. I was OUT of it the day afterwards, but then I was fine. What's the next item of clothing that you intend to buy for yourself? I need new bras badly. What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? It's called "Not Just A Pet Rock (Python regius)" and is a group for advanced ball python husbandry. It is very informative, but I will say there is a SHITLOAD of very rude elitists. Do you like your butt? Why or why not? NO because it's a PANCAKE and I want CAKE. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? I personally think so. When Sara visited and we were trying to go to my older sister's so she especially could meet her, Ash entirely ignored Mom's messages. I know her homophobic husband well enough to nearly be able to guarantee he didn't want us coming over because the kids "don't need to see that." Ash kinda does what Nick says, so... you know. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I know I'm happier with pets. Who was the last person you went on a date with? Sara. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. What’s your favorite way to curl your hair? It's too short to do that. At what age did you start swearing? However old I was in 7th grade. What is something you physically can’t do? Clean up vomit lkdsjal;sdkjfa;lkwd. I can't clean up my pet's or even my own. I literally can't. My mom has to. What do like better, apples or oranges? Apples. I don't like oranges. Around the holidays, do you hope for snow? Yes!!! What are your top two favorite bands? Ozzy Osbourne and Metallica. How many people do you 100% trust? Like two. Maybe. Do you care what others think about you? Way too much. Has anyone ever called you a bitch? My grandmother has. Did you watch Teletubbies when you were younger? Omg yes, I was obsessed. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat? No. Not because I don't want to, because I do, but I would have an extreme protein deficit if I did that. Besides meat, I don't like enough protein-rich foods. Have you ever had a rolling backpack? Yes. Did you make any money today? I haven't made any money in a very, very long time. I'm only ever paid when someone hires me to take pictures for them. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? I don't know. Definitely not very high. Have you ever gone swimming in a river? Yes. What was the last souvenir someone got you? I have zero clue. Do you have a favorite remix of a song? Hm. Perhaps this techno-y remix of "Psychosocial" by Slipknot. I don't know for sure, though. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Either the violin or piano. Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Nope. Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar/etc.)? Probably clouded leopards aesthetics, but I think lions overall. If you had $500,000, what would you do with it? Pay off school debt as well as help Mom with various financial issues, buy new glasses, buy Mom and I a new house and car, get Venus a great tank with all the optimal supplies, get LOADS of tattoos, donate to various charities, adopt a few specific pets, travel to Yellowstone, get laser hair removal on my legs and teeth whitening... There are a lot of possibilities. Did the last person you touched lips with have a kid? Just scaly ones. :') "First loves are never really over." Is this true for you? Yeeeep... Did you like Michael Jackson before he died? I didn't really have an opinion on him. I know/like a couple songs, sure. What are some things that would make you break up with someone? If they became abusive, started doing drugs, acted arrogantly, didn't understand my mental conditions and were unwilling to be emotionally supportive, stuff like that. What was the worst breakup you've ever had? Ha, the one with Jason. For. Fucking. Sure.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''degrade'' by 3teeth

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xan-hast · 4 years ago

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“Together to Bloom”- July 3rd 2021

“Wake up; you’re going to be late!” I heard my older sister yell from outside my room. I can’t get up right now; it’s like six o’clock or something. I turned to grab my phone from the counter as I turned it on. Its harsh light beamed my delicate eyes. I blinked, trying to recover from the pain in my eyes. Alas, I looked at the time. It was seven-thirty! I hopped out of bed with no time to waste as the final day of school was here! I couldn’t be late for the last day of school before summer break! I’d worked so hard all year long, not just to waste it all for being late! I rushed, grabbing whatever I could get from inside my closet. I then went inside the bathroom to brush my teeth and grabbed my comb to fix my hair later in class. I put my phone in my pants right pocket, grabbed my backpack for school, and a granola bar before running through the front house door.

As I locked the front door, I started running to school. First period starts at eight-ten, so I should have about thirty minutes to make it to class since I probably only took ten minutes getting ready. This should be perfect because it takes less than half an hour to get to school. But it’s all estimates right now; I can’t check my phone right now because it’ll just slow down my time. I’ll just wait until I have to cross the street to check my phone.

So far, they’ve all been red lights! I’ve been lucky so far, but that would also mean the drivers aren’t sharing this same luck. I only need to cross the street one more time, and I’ll be at school. I’m praying for a green light because I’ve gotten tons of notifications coming from my phone. I know that I’m not late, but there must be some big news! Maybe Eric’s mom finally let him get the gaming PC he wanted. Or maybe River finally wants to talk about what happened this week. Or Jake (my online friend) finally got the new game we planned to play during the summer! Or maybe Brittany jus-. You know what, I could just keep guessing the endless possibilities. But from the void of possibilities, I really hope it’s River.

As I was approaching Breeze High, I could see students around the entrance of the school building. With the usual people staying outside until classes started, the students already inside, some buses being late, and parents dropping off kids. But I would be a mix of two; I would stay inside sometimes or outside depending on what friend I saw first. This time there wasn’t anyone outside waiting for me. So I would go inside, but I’d rather check who was spamming me with text messages. As I turned on my phone, I saw the top message from Eric saying, “Zachary come to the cafeteria know!” I scrolled through some other text messages, but the top fifteen were from Eric. They’re all the same text with the exact grammar mistake of know instead of now; he must’ve just copied and pasted the text. But I wonder what he would want so urgently. After that was one text message from Brittany saying, “If you can come to the Student Council class really quickly, I have some things to discuss.” I guess Brittany just wants me to help her again. Under her text were two messages from Marcel saying, “Hey Zachary want to meet before first period starts?” “We can meet right outside our class.” Well, now I have to choose between three people. But under Marcel’s text was a message from my mom saying, “Goooood Morning Hun! I hope you have an amazing last day of school! And I remember that you have thirty dollars in your backpack for the Farewell Bloom Festival! Have fun!” How could I have forgotten it was the Bloom Festival today! They even do it every year for the last day of school, but it always passes my mind. Thankfully Mom gave me money. Now I feel even more guilty for not checking hard enough for money for the homeless. But the first text message I got in the morning was again from Eric saying, “Meet me in the cafeteria!” Eric seems like an urgent matter, I could help Brittany after school, I’ll need to buy things for the Bloom Festival, and Marcel just wants to talk. He never wants to talk! I guess things change before summer break starts.

I looked inside my backpack for the money that Mom had given to me. It was located where she’d always put stuff for me. In a little section of the front of the backpack, that was easy to find.

As I walked inside the school, I could see tables spread throughout the hallways. These tables at the front of the school are always the most populated. And it was all in the spirit of Farewell to some and Later to others. The tables, filled with beautiful roses and little cards where you could add a message on them. But for those who weren’t as creative, the cards already had something sweet written. I looked through the hallways trying to find a table that didn’t have so many people. I then stumbled across a hallway filled with tables and the sellers, but no buyers. So I went over to one of the tables and said, “Can I buy five roses and five cards?” But that’s when I noticed the person wasn’t looking at me, but down on the floor. He then said, “That’ll be ten dollars, sir,” as he had his hand out in front of him. I don’t remember it costing this much! But it doesn’t matter because at least I’ll “Bloom a good smile,” which is the motto of the festival. I then placed the only two five-dollar bills I had on his hand. He swiftly took the money and said, “Thank you.” As he grabbed the roses behind him and the cards on the table, he continued, “Here are your roses and cards.” “Thank you,” I said as I left. I don’t really know who that was because they didn’t show their face, but they did it so well.

Now on who to go to; Eric or Marcel. They’re both amazing friends of mine, but technically Eric messaged me first. So I’ll quickly see what Eric needs and then go talk to Marcel. Sounds like a game plan; hopefully, it doesn’t backfire!

As I went inside the cafeteria (which was near the middle half of the school), I saw it near empty. From all the tables, only one had students- Dillion, Rivier, and Eric. They seemed to be talking; maybe I should just leave them alone. River and I aren’t on good terms. As I turned around to leave the cafeteria, I heard someone yell, “Watch out!” I looked back and noticed that Amy (the vice principal of Student Council) and Gregory had bumped into each other creating a mess around them of red roses. I walked over to help the two as everyone else was just watching.

As I went to pick up a rose, Amy said, “You don’t have to help Zachary. If anything, Gregory over here should be helping!” With a strict emphasis on Gregory’s name. As I stood back up, I saw that Amy was looking at Gregory with a strict look; Gregory was looking away and seemed like he’d run away any second. I then responded to Amy, a calm look and tone, “It really is okay. I can help out. But remember not to be so harsh on your tone,” as I handed her a rose I picked up. Amy grabbed the rose I handed to her and continued to pick up the other roses. Gregory looked up at me and nodded his head as if he said, “Thank you.” I then handed him one of my own roses and the card attached. He then approached Amy with the rose and card. Amy turned to him and grabbed the rose in a more calming way. I guess my work here is done. Now to go find Marce-.

I then felt a slight tap on my shoulder, I looked back and saw Eric. “Zachary, where’ve you been! I’ve tried texting, but nothing! You’re so late! Anyways, come and have a seat,” Eric said as he pointed at the table River was sitting at. Before I could say anything, he was already walking me to the table.

River seemed to be on his phone and didn’t look up. Eric then sat me down across from River. Eric tapped his shoulder, and in an instant, River looked up. We made eye contact which felt like my own eternity until he said, “What are you doing here Zachary!” He then turned to Eric and said, “You promised we were only going to talk! Not Zachary'' Seems like I should just go. But before I could leave and before Eric could say something, River already left running. Eric then said to me, “Sorry, I thought this would help you two.” I responded, “It’s okay. Thank you for trying.” Before I could give Eric a rose and card, he’d already left running after River. I got up from the blue table I was sitting at and started walking to English class to talk to Marcel.

How did I mess up so badly with River? It all started on a very blue Monday, just after lunch. As I was walking to the Student Council class, River came up to me with tears. He said the exact words, “It’s over! I can’t believe I could even trust you!” And he ran off without another word. I was shocked at what had happened, I looked over to see people whispering at their blue lockers. Eyes from all directions made me question what I did. It was later that day when Eric came up to me to talk about it. A rumor, breaking the forever bond that I had with River. It was finally found out that River and I had been dating. River and I had already been dating for almost the whole school year, but his parents weren’t as supportive. On that day, River and I faked breaking up, it was like a little bump in the road. Luckily no one from the school noticed that we were dating as we had just been dating for a month. But during that same day, I promised to never tell another soul that we were dating. That once it was all over, we’d live the life we imagined.

Now, the whole school knew, but the thing is that I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Eric! Actually, the only person that I did tell was Jake. He was extremely supportive of how I found out my true self so fast and young. And Jake doesn’t have any way to contact anyone at this school except for me since he lives in New York. I don’t know how this person found out or why they would spread it, but it does hurt to see him gone.

I tried explaining to River, but he doesn’t answer any of my texts or calls. Even at school, he wouldn’t talk to me all week. But I guess he was talking to Eric for comfort. My biggest concern is how hurt is he. Especially with this school spreading this rumor outside of school and onto social media. I know that by now, his family must’ve seen the rumor. I just wish I could talk to him and tell him the trut-.

“You okay, Zachory?” I looked over and saw it was Mr. Johns, the English teacher. I then said, “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little lost in my thoughts.” “Well, Mr. Lost, you’re late for my class. The bell rang. But since it is the last day and I’m running a little late, it’s okay.” Wait, the bell has already rung! That means I wasn’t able to talk to Marcel! I’m just lucky that Mr. Johns is giving me a break. As I walked into class with Mr. Jones, I saw Marcel laying down his head on his desk.

“So it’s just a free day today. I’d be happy to sign your yearbook. If you need to go outside, just ask,” Mr. Johns said. He then sat down at his desk and started reading his book. First, let me write something on these little cards. On this first card, it had a hand’s palm on the front. I opened it and it read, “I’m a friend that’ll always help.” On the bottom, I added with a pen, “We can talk now?” Which was specifically for Marcel. I then brought all the roses with me to talk to Marcel. As I tapped his shoulder, he looked up with a face of concern. I then said, “Sorry, abo-.” “Can we go outside?” Marcel asked while interrupting me. I then walked over to Mr. Johns’ desk. I then tapped his desk and he looked up from his book. I then asked, “Is it okay if Marcel and I go outside?” He looked over at the clock and said, “Yeah sure. Just don’t cause any trouble.”

I walked over to Marcel and tapped his shoulder. He looked up at me, and we left the classroom. As we did, Marcel said, “So I finally learned how to use my phone for more than just sending messages.” “Oh, that’s good,” I added. He continued with a sad tone, “Yeah, but I saw this post thingy on social media, and it was all about you and River… is it true?” Wait, Marcel didn’t know this whole time! He doesn’t talk to too many people, but even for him, it’s kind of much. I then responded with a soft tone, “The rumor about River and I is true. We were dating, but I never told anyone.” He then responded, “It’s okay. The post went into deep detail about the rumor. I just wanted to tell you, but I guess you already knew.” I then concernedly asked, “Actually, it all started on Monday; haven’t you heard or seen anything about River and me?” “No. I’m not that big on rumors or anything. But you should’ve told me. I wanted to help,” he added. “Well thank you. And before I forget,” I said as I handed him the rose attached with the card, “here is your rose!” Marcel then said, “Aw, thank you. Let me check the card.” Wait, the card just has-. Marcel then giggled, “Well, I’m here talking to you now, aren’t I?” I quickly responded, “Yes, but I was supposed to give you that before we talked.” Marcel giggled again and said, “Well, we should get to class now. Just remember I’m always here to talk.” We entered the classroom, Marcel, with a rose, and I had my three roses left.

As the bell rang, Mrs. Jenkins said, “Have an amazing break, everyone!” That’s fourth period done. I just need to get through lunch, fifth period, and sixth period then I’m free from school. I sadly don’t have any of the classes with Eric at all. And for the last two periods, I don’t have any close friends. So lunch is going to be a good time to talk to someone; I hope River and I can discuss. I also still have these three roses.

As I walked into the cafeteria, I didn’t see Eric, Marcel, Brittany, or River. Where is everyone, it’s not like I’m early for lunch. As I was about to look around, I saw Dillon and Gregory talking to each other. I walked over to their table and before I could sit down, Gregory stood up and said, “Can I talk to you real quick?” “Yeah, sure.”

Gregory then took me to an empty hallway where he finally spoke up, “All I wanted to say was… thank you.” In shock, I said, “Oh, you’re wel-.” But before I could finish, he’d already left. I didn’t even notice he left so fast! I guess I helped him; it’s something to lift my spirit. And right now, it helped more than he could imagine.

As I was finally leaving sixth period, I noticed that some left a book on the floor. I picked it up and noticed it was Quincy’s notebook! Quincy is one of the top students in the school, he’d never just leave his notebook on purpose! I need to go find him in this avalanche of people in the halls! But I think Quincy always goes to Ms. Berkeley’s class before leaving school. So I should find him there!

As I finally made it out of the avalanche of students, I noticed someone sitting down in the middle of the hallway. As I approached them, I noticed it was Quincy! You could tell from his light gold hair, skinny pants, and back shirt. As I got closer, I heard him sobbing! As I was next to him, I said, “You left your notebook in class and ar-.” He then interrupted with loud sobs, “Thank you,” as he looked up at me, his face turned pale, he continued, “oh don’t look at me, Zachary.” He then grabbed the notebook from my hands and went in the same position. I then sat next to him and said, “I’m here to talk if you want?” “What, so you can just tell the whole school!” he said with an angry tone. “What do you mean?” I asked in confusion. “I heard the rumor,” he said with big sobs. I then took a deep breath and said, “Quincy, do you really think I would do that to my boyfriend?” He quietly said, “No.” “Exactly, there was just someone that told everyone. I’m in a rough state, but I still want to help you.” He then said, “But we’ve never even talked outside of school.” I then handed him a rose, he looked up and had a brief smile. He then read out loud the card, “It’s never too late to start things.” Then his brief smile turned into a blooming smile. He added, “What is this some kind of proposal?” I then said, “A proposal to become your friend.” He looked over at me and said, “Thank you, this really did help. It’s just that my girlfriend broke up with me. So I guess we kind of share a memory. I hope everything goes well for you. And thank you again for this and my notebook.” But before I could say something, he handed me a little note from his pocket. As he handed it to me, he said, “This is my phone number, maybe we can talk during the summer?” As I grabbed the piece of paper, I said, “Thank you, I’ll make sure to text you when I get home.” He stood up, and we departed ways, Quincy to Ms. Berkeley’s room while I was going to leave school.

As I was walking out of Breeze high for the last time this school year, I saw Eric running towards me. As he was running, he yelled, “Zachary! You really need to go talk to River!” Once he was in front of me, he was out of breath but trying to say something. I then said, “First catch your breath and then you can tell me.” After a few seconds of Eric panting, he then said, “I really messed up with you and River today. You need to talk to him. I’m so sorry, but you might be the only person to make him happy.” I then calmly said, “It’s not your fault at all Eric. Than-. Actually,” I then grabbed from my backpack one of the last roses and continued, “this is your rose. The card will do the talking.” As he took the rose from my hand, he smiled and said, “Thank you, Zachary. Also, River by Café Venteux.” Eric’s French has gotten so good! Even if it’s his third year in French class. “Okay, bye! Talk to you later!” I then left running towards the café.

As I made it near the café, I didn’t see River. But I saw the same homeless man in the morning outside the café. I walked towards him and he said, “Hey again, I hope you have a nice day.” I then searched in my left pocket for the twenty-dollar bill that mom gave me. Once I touched it, I said, “I actually got something for you,” as he looked up, I handed over the twenty dollars. He then smiled with great joy, saying, “Thank you! May God bless you!” He then went inside the café. As my eyes followed him, I saw River at the far end of the café.

As I walked inside the café, it made its little jingle. I walked over to where River was sitting and took a seat across from him. He didn’t look up until I tapped his shoulder. Once he looked up and saw me, he stood up. But before he could run away again, I stopped him. He was weaker now, not like usual, so I was easily about to sit him down on one of the wooden booths. I then sat next to him.

Before I could talk, he sobbingly said, “Why would you do that?” I then quickly responded, “I would never do that. I hope you can understand that I didn’t tell anyone about our relationship.” He responded, “Then how did people know! How come I got hurt!” He’s deeply hurt. “River, I want you to remember who I am. I never would do such a thing. I love you with all my heart. I just,” I started to tear, “I just don’t want it to be over a rumor someone started.” River then hugged me; I hugged back. I then let go with my left hand to grab my last rose. As I did, River looked up at me. As I handed him the bruised, color fading, few pedaled rose, I said, “I don’t ever want to lose you. Let us get through this together.”

#gay love #lgbtq #lgbt pride #school life #writing #short story #original work #entertainment #lgbtq representation

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 5 years ago

Text

Soft, Like the Snowfall

Pairing: Lif x reader

Prompt: “You have my heart, you know? Please be gentle with it.”

Description: Was it wrong, the way you made him feel? Lif supposed so; being wrong hadn’t stopped him in the past, though, and with you he felt he couldn’t help how he felt.

Word Count: 892

Rating: sfw

Notes: I... was feeling the Lif content... so I choose 7 of my fav prompts that I wrote... and decided I would have some friends help me choose which one to use.... when we couldn’t, I remembered the mythic banner would be a week long. So, I rated them from Soft-to-Spice(tm) and will be posting one a day! Without further ado I give you The Soft Lif Content You Crave.

_________________________________________________________

Oh, how he cherished you.

“Lif look! It’s starting to snow outside.” You ushered him over to the window with a smile, watching as the crystals feel.

“It always does this time of year.” He couldn’t help but smile due to your enthusiasm, though.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it.” Every laugh, every smile, every sweet gesture sent his way-- didn’t you know what you were doing to him? Surely you saw right through him, saw how, even without a heart, you made his pace quicken, his breathing uneven.

“I suppose so.” He closed his eyes, just content to be near you as you lounged in the windowsill.

“Thank you for indulging me.” Without warning or care, you leaned you head against his arm. Gods, how you were warm. Soft, sweet, so inviting. Lif knew he should push you off him but he knew better he didn’t have the heart for it. How he wanted to cradle you instead of letting you be.

“...Think nothing of it.” How obvious was it he cared? How could he even pretend to hide it from you?

“You know winter… everything about it reminds me of you. Maybe that’s why, recently, I haven’t minded it so much.” Again you went, playing with his emotions. Would your words ever cease to elate him? “You’re cold… but inviting. You seem scary but that’s just because people don’t know you...” You giggled and shook your head. “Listen to me, I must sound silly to you. It’s just… nice to have you close like this, Lif.” Boldly you placed your hand over his, closing your fingers in hopes he wouldn’t move his away.

“I don’t… think it’s silly.” Lif couldn’t stop the words from leaving his mouth. His hand turned on it’s own to hold yours correctly. It was so strange how everything felt like it was meant to be but wrong. He wanted this so badly but it wasn’t his to take. Then again, Lif had become known for not giving up when it seemed like the only option left. He refused to give up, refused to die, refused to lose, and he refused to let you go. “It’s… a little much but I appreciate you thinking so fondly of me.”

“You have a silly way of admitting you care, Lif.” You giggled, your eyes crinkling just a little in your joy. “But… still, I’m happy it makes you happy.” The two of you rested like that a while, hands entwined and you once more (perhaps a bit more than before) leaning against Lif to watch the falling snow. He was loathe to break the comfortable silence between the two of you but the words dancing in his head (of your praise, of course) refused to stop unless spoken aloud; Lif could only do so much to stop when you allowed yourself to be so vulnerable with him.

“You remind me of spring...” His word were quiet, as if not meant to be spoken.

“Oh?” Your response was more yawn then word. Lif didn’t mind.

“You’re warm. Inviting. People always look forward to seeing you.” A smile graced his lips as he remembered just how much you could light up a room. “And most of all…” Lif shook his head, smiling fading. “No, never mind.” He shook his head, as if such an action could really rid him of his thoughts.

“No, tell me what you were gonna say...” Your words were slurred, a yawn soon following them.

“Nothing, nothing.” Once more his felt his smile return due to your actions. “Spring has just always been one of my favorite seasons. It’s nice to see that life finds a way.” Lif wasn’t sure why he said that, really it just felt right. Like being with you did.

“That’s… sweet.” You snuggled into him, sighing softly as you did so. “Lif, you wanna know something?” Even now, your words came slower. As if it were a struggle to continue speaking but you didn’t want to waste a single moment with him.

“Hm?” Lif’s response was a simple hum; him too caught up in brushing stray hairs out of your face as you naturally found yourself falling into his lap to rest more easily.

“I really like spending time with you. You feel like home.”

“_____...” He dared to say your name, so sweet, so soft you hardly heard it. Now it was your turn to hum in response, eyes barely opening to look at bright eyes as Lif spoke.

“You… have my heart, you know?” Lif didn’t bother to stop the words that tumbled from his mouth. Didn’t dare to look away from you as he spoke. This moment couldn’t last forever but he could try. “Please… be gentle with it.” He could tell, in your sleepy state, you didn’t quite comprehend the weight of his worlds.

“I’ll be sure to treasure it” Another, cute yawn. “..forever and ever.” You were silent a moment, taking the chance to close your eyes and snuggle closer. “As long as you treasure mine, too.”

“For you, anything.” Once more Lif’s hand found its self carding through your hair, his gentle movements lulling you to sleep. Despite everything Lif founding himself looking forward to what lie ahead. He couldn’t escape the past; with you, though, at least he would be able to face it.

#lif x reader #feh #fire emblem heroes #fe lif #feh lif #yes hello?? this is so so soft #I couldn't help myself

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bobasheebaby · 5 years ago

Text

200 Brooklyn 99 Prompts

Rosa

1 “Talk to him, that's what friends do.” “Nope. I'm gonna wait 'til I'm on my deathbed, get in the last word and then die immediately.” “That's your plan for dealing with this?” “That's my plan for dealing with everything. I have seventy-seven arguments I'm going to win that way.”

2 “I'm already seeing somebody, NAME.” “Oh, and just like that, things got interesting.” “And just like that, I left.”

3 “NAME is even wearing his/her formal leather jacket.” “It's the one without any blood on it.”

4 “Right, that's the guy/girl you said the lame stuff about. Like he’s/she's a good listener.” “Sorry, what do you look for in a guy/girl?” “Real stuff, like the shape of his/her ass.”

5 “Sorry I'm late. I had to go back to the deli and return my Everything Bagel. In what world does everything not include beef jerky?” “All of them.”

6 “He/She also likes to look up recipes online and go, "Who's got the time?"

7 “Thank you, NAME. Your entire life is garbage.”

8 “NAME , tell us about your family.” “I have one.”

9 “Anyone over the age of six celebrating a birthday should go to hell.”

10 “I am dating his/her nephew/niece. Now we are hanging out on weekends. What is next? Oh! Small talk.”

11 “Wait, is that a smile I see?” “Possibly. My immune system is too weak to fight off my smile muscles.”

12 “Whoa, what happened? You know what, forget it. I'll just read NAME’s notes.”

13 “NAME? Are you stuck in there?” “No, I'm in here by choice.” “Oh, 'cause I hear some banging noises as if someone was struggling to open the door.” “No. That was the pipes.” “Or, is it the sound of you learning how to ask for help? You know, you can't spell ‘independent’ without ‘dependent.’” “And you can't spell ‘Go [bleep] yourself’ without ‘[bleep] you.’”

14 “I've said "excuse me" more times this morning than I have in my entire life. Twice!”

15 “Oh, nothing better after a long shift than coming to BAR NAME. It's like Cheers, where everybody knows your name.” “A place where everybody knows your name is hell. You're describing hell.”

16 “So, what is this? Casual, serious? I need to know how to make fun of you.”

17 “NAME and I broke up. He/She ate soup too much.” “What, like every day?” “It happened twice.”

18 “So, what are you drinking?” “I'll have a margarita. But, like, a skinny margarita. So, like, tequila, lime, and a tiny splash of agave.” “Mm. I refuse to order that.”

19 “What are you looking all wistful about?” “Just thinking, about relationships and love, and how I'm way better at them than I thought I'd be. Should I do a TED Talk on it?” “Doesn't seem any dumber than all the other TED Talks.”

20 “Why didn't you tell me? I had no idea things were getting that serious.” “Yeah, it's very embarrassing having feelings.”

21 “So are you bringing someone to the wedding?” “No, I'm taking a break from dating for a while.” “What?” “I'm sick of asking people how many siblings they have. Oh, is it somewhere between zero and two? How fascinating.”

22 “I grew a goatee and it looks amazing, and I know you can see it.” “Of course we can see it, NAME. It's horrible.”

23 “It feels like you're being a little harsh.” “Thanks, good note. I was going for extremely harsh. I'll turn it up.”

24 “Are your senses heightened?” “I think I might be pregnant, not bitten by a radioactive spider.”

25 “You're what sneezes are!”

26 “Seriously, you guys should stand up once in a while. You know, for your hearts.”

27 “NAME, this is dumb. I'm just gonna go.” “No, no, no. You promised me more time. I still have seven minutes.” “I really don't want to miss my flight, and I cannot physically stand the way that room smells anymore.” “Just breathe through your mouth.”

28 “You know, some people say, ‘Mo money, mo problems,’ but those people are idiots. Money's amazing.”

29 “Dude, just admit you ruined everything and turned our lives into a living hell. No biggie.”

30 “We don't want anyone getting alcohol poisoning, so if you throw up, you're disqualified.” “I never throw up. I just tell my stomach to deal with it. My body is terrified of me.”

Jake

31 “I also have a hairline fracture in my thumb. Mankind's least important finger, am I right?”

32 “I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal. That's where the blood's supposed to be.”

33 “How much could I possibly owe you? Fifty, sixty bucks?” “Two thousand, four hundred and thirty seven dollars.” “Dollars?! Wait, of course dollars. Why was that the part I was surprised by?”

34 “So, I'm going to grab a healthy breakfast.” “Are those gummy bears wrapped in a fruit roll-up?” “Breakfast burrito, but yeah.” “I pity your dentist.” “Joke's on you. I don't have a dentist.”

35 “I'm talking to my credit card company. I tried to get an online subscription to the New Yorker and they declined me. Apparently, based on my previous purchases, they assumed it was fraud. That's crazy. I'm fancy. One time I had coffee-flavored ice cream.”

36 “Rules are made to be broken.” “They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken.” “Uh, piñatas.” “Glow sticks.” “Karate boards.” “Spaghetti when you have a small pot.” “Rules.”

37 “Hey, can I ask you something?” “Mm-hmm.” “If the toilets drain into the ocean, does that mean a tiny shark could swim up and bite me in the butt?” “No, not at all.” “Psh, lame.”

38 “NAME, super important question. Which one of these shirts should I wear to dinner with your dad/mom tonight?” “Those are exactly the same.” “I have a signature look, NAME.”

39 “Hello, good sir, I'd like your finest bottle of wine, please.” “That will be $1,600.” “Great, I'd like your $8-est bottle of wine, please.”

40 “I am straight-up depressed. NAME’s been doing her best to cheer me up. He/She gave me this sticker this morning just for waking up.” “Ew, it's like you're dating your teacher.” “I know, it's so hot.”

41 “Wait. Before you say anything, I want to guess what happened based on your face. Someone died. No! You won a prize. I'm not getting better at this.”

42 “What is the bandwidth on the wifi here? We have much content to stream.”

43 “Oh, you sweaty, chair-spinning morons. You're gonna get us out of here.”

44 “Sir, I think I speak for all of us when —“ “He/She doesn't.” “He/She doesn't.”

45 “So, your brother/sister's a bit of a nightmare.” “I wouldn't say that. I mean, at most, he’s/she's a daymare.” “Those are so much scarier.” “Yeah.”

46 “Look, NAME, I burnt two hundred calories.” “That's your heart rate.” “Yeah, that checks out.”

47 “I don't slump, people. I opposite of slump. I pmuls. That's slump backwards and it's what I do. I pmuls all over this bitch.”

48 “Excuse me. We were just looking for a place to —“ “Boink.” “Yes, boink. That's my preferred term for it, too.”

49 “Thank you for doing this. I love you.” “Noice. Smort. I love you too.”

50 “Adult parties? I believe they're called orgies.”

51 “I have a sexy voice!

Champagne.

Mountain range.

Hugs.”

52 “Has anyone ever told you you look just like a statue?” “Yes.”

53 “NAME, you're smiling. It's very weird. Like seeing a turtle out of its shell.”

54 “You look happy. Let me guess. Your egg sandwich fell on the floor, and they gave it to you for free.” “No. Can you do that? Why doesn't everyone just drop their sandwiches on the floor?” “I was trying to insult you.” “And instead you gave me an amazing life hack!”

55 “So, we gonna talk about what happened back there? I haven't seen someone cry that much since NAME heard they were remaking ‘First Wives Club.’”

56 “Hey, there, NAME. Everything okay?” “No, I'm having a meltdown.” “Props. That was amazing.” “Thanks. It was a lot of work.”

57 “Almost makes me wanna take things seriously all the time. But then I'm like ‘boobs, farts, boobs, whatever’.”

58 “Ahh, babe, this is so nice. There are hot stones on our butts for no reason.” “Not on mine. My butt stones keep falling off, because I'm so tense about NAME being here and ruining everything.”

59 “Okay, don't shoot! That's how people get shot.”

60 “Rule number 3: Let's not have sex right away.” “Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. No doubt, no doubt, no doubt. Good rule. No sex. Good rule.”

Charles

61 “Okay, but I thought since you were in charge, maybe I could be your right hand man? Your Tinker Bell?” “Tinker Bell?” “Let me tell you something about Tinker Bell. Tinker Bell is a loyal lieutenant and a real thorn in the side of Captain Hook.”

62 “NAME, why don't you show Danger what a fax machine is.” “Okay. Imagine a letter had unprotected sex with a phone.”

63 “Hey, NAME, are you ready to go streaking?” “What?” “That's what my dad/mom and I called getting blonde streaks in your hair. We used to do it to our ponytails on road trips. You just take a little lemon up top, and let the sun do the rest. We called it giving each other road head.” “You just said you called it going streaking.” “It had a couple names.”

64 “So we have good news, and we have bad news.” “My Nana always said, ‘Bad news first because the good news is probably a lie.’ Fun fact: she made me cry a lot.”

65 “What about me? What if something happens to NAME, and he never gets to meet my baby? I don't want to hang out with some stupid baby who's never met NAME.”

66 “Oh, you're right. I'm gonna tell him/her. It might not be today. It might not be tomorrow. It definitely won't be later than tomorrow. So pretty much today or tomorrow then.”

67 “No! I was eavesdropping. I'm always eavesdropping.” “I don't like it.” “Look, I didn't spend the last seven years watching your love ripen, only to have it sullied by a city hall wedding. You're getting married right here, right now.”

68 “I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like him/her a little bit.” “You doodled your wedding invitation.” “No, that's our joint tombstone.” “My mistake.”

69 “How many times have I smacked you in your face?” “Lost count.” “And you still have no fear of me.” “I'm trying to read your womb vibe.” “Exactly. Knock it off.”

70 “Okay, first of all, NAME, you look amazing. Secondly, I made an appointment at the salon with Nikki, for you, under the name Gabriella Fuentes de San Miguel Estrada. I had fun with the name.” “Clearly.”

71 “He’s/She's got a type, which is really any one but you.” “Yeah, that was my ex-husband/ex-wife's type, too.”

72 “Sexy train is leaving the station. Check out this caboose. Later, sluts.”

73 “I can't wait to see you, my luscious little breakfast quiche. I just want to draw you a bubble bath and spoon-feed you caviar. I think we should open up a joint checking account. I love you. [pause] What am I doing?” “It's okay. I hung up right after ‘Chucklebunny’.” “Help me. I've gone Full NAME.”

74 “Do you desire a crispen potato?” “Oh, don't mind if I do-ble. Wait a minute. Crispen potato. Why are you fancy talking.” “How dare you, sir/madam. I speak the common tongue.” “There it is again. You only do that when you're lying or hiding something.” “Hiding? Ha. Pish-posh.”

75 “Hey, donut holes. Don't mind if I do. Eurgh! Fish? Fish donuts, NAME? What is wrong with you?” “It's takoyaki. I'm drowning my sorrows in octopus balls.”

76 “Put on a T-shirt for all I care. It doesn't matter what you wear.” “Of course it matters. He has to wear the smaller checks. Big checks wash him out. Where are you, NAME?”

77 “Ooh, if they have your phone, we can track where they're going. I have ‘Find My Phone’ set up to track you. What? I do that for all my friends, not just you.” “Show me.” “There's no time!”

78 “You okay?” “Yeah, no burns. The doctor said I was lucky my body was so damp.”

79 “You guys have been down here for two hours. What, did you have sex forty times?”

80 “What? You don't need closet space. You have, like, one outfit.”

81 “You just graduated pie school, bitches. [pause] Sorry I said bitches, I'm just really worked up.”

82 “So, I know you're NAME’s best friend, and —“ “Did he/she say that? Did you get that on tape?” “No.” “No, he/she didn't say that or no, you didn't get it on tape? Doesn't matter. Either way, you screwed up big time.”

83 “What you did is the culinary equivalent of unprotected sex.”

84 “That's right. Boom. Just kicked Santa in the testicles.”

85 “No, there's no one in my life. [wink] Sort of a sad thing to wink about, I realize now.”

86 “NAME! Were you dreaming about NAME again?” “Why did you wake me up?! I told you never to wake me up!”

87 “You used all the touching time, NAME. I get 100% of the goodbye touching time. 100%.”

88 “Do you wanna know why he/she went out with him/her and not you?” “Yeah.” “Because he/she actually asked him/her out.”

89 “NAME, will you taste this batter?” “Mm-hmm. Hmm. I think it's a little off.” “You know what's off? Your mouth! Why NAME lets your stupid tongue anywhere near him/her I'll never know. Nope, I forgot the sugar. That's on me.”

90 “There's no need for NAME to see me unleash the beast.”

Captain Holt

91 “Look at you. Always working. What happened to my fun big/little brother/sister?” “Fun? I was never fun. You take that back.”

92 “It's the most fun day of the year. Something you wouldn't understand because you're not programmed to feel joy.” “Yes, but my software is due for an exuberance upgrade.”

93 “Sticks and stones, NAME.” “Describing your breakfast?”

94 “NAME, how are you feeling?” “Better today. I even managed to eat some plain toast this morning.” “Smart. Something bland.” “That's my favorite breakfast.”

95 “Joining us for lunch, Sir?” “Oh, no, I've already consumed the required calories for this day period.” “Yummy.”

96 “You all right, NAME? Tough weekend?” “I went to Barbados with my husband/wife. We wove hats out of palm fronds and swam with the stingrays. I've never been happier.”

97 “Maybe I should wing it. Love, it sustains you. It's like oatmeal.” “Okay. Okay. Not bad for winging it.” “I lied. Took me two hours to write that.”

98 “I do not have a problem. If I want to play Kwazy Cupcakes, I will play Kwazy Cupcakes. Kwazy is a difficult word to say in anger, but I think I've made my feelings clear.”

99 “This place is so romantic.” “Yeah, and so intimate.” “Don't worry. I'm not listening to you. I'm just thinking about how this sea bass is cold but not as cold and cruel as the hands of fate that have thrust my entire life into darkness.” “Ah, damn it. I just ordered the sea bass.”

100 “Yeah, and your new shirt is very aggressive and confusing. Is the pineapple the slut, or is it calling someone else a slut?” “Clearly the pineapple is the slut.” “Huh.”

101 “Oh, I've caused a problem. I think I am getting a text message. Bloop. Ah, there it is.”

102 “So nice of you to greet us, NAME. I thought surely you'd still be crushed under that house in Munchkinland.”

103 “So, do you NAME --“ “Yes.” “And do you --“ “Yes. Yes. We do. We're married.”

104 “I mean, don't people call you NAME?” “How dare you.”

105 “So you lied to me? Out of pity. You pity me.” “I wouldn't put it that way.” “I would. I am offended. I am angry. I am very tired. So I'm gonna take a nap, but when I wake up, oh, you are in for it.”

106 “Look at that. You've helped me find my smile.”

107 “Huh. Meat from the street. Sounds like a fun treat. Hah. I'm a poet and ... I didn't even know I was rhyming those words. But it happened anyway.”

108 “Oh, look at that. An alert. I'm probably trending already. What? My account has been deactivated?” “Twitter thinks you're a bot.” “Why? I am a human. I am a human male/female.”

109 “Care to sit? I'm sure you'd like to take some weight off your cloven hooves.” “Call me the devil, NAME? How original.” “Actually, I was calling you a goat. You goat.”

110 “NAME! I'm coming with you.” “Thank you, NAME.” “I'm also coming.” “Not necessary.”

111 “Spot checks are done. Needless to say I'm thoroughly underwhelmed.” “Huh. From your expression, I would have guessed constipated. Or chilly.”

112 “NAME, you have a pretty low bar for what you consider drama. Once, I used an exclamation point in a email. You called me Diana Ross.” “I assure you, in this case, I do not exaggerate.”

113 “I know they say it's not good to have a TV in the bedroom. Which is why I don't.”

114 “NAME, did you just laugh?” “Uproariously.”

115 “You know when you play along with the robot jokes, it kinda ruins my enjoyment of them?” “Yes, I know.”

116 “And what do you hope to get out of this, NAME? Let me guess revenge on Dorothy for killing your sister?”

117 “It was a good game though for a dumbass.” Okay, you're kinda overusing that one. Maybe switch it up a little bit.” “Oh, good note. You dick.” “That landed good.”

118 “Dancing over. Situation defused.” “No!”

119 “All right, NAME, I'm sick of you wasting time. So, yes, I spilled some minestrone on my pants and I'm sitting in my underwear. Happy?”

120 “You found me. Drinking seltzer in the shadows.”

Gina

121 “It's a sloppy Jessica. Mac n cheese, chili, pizza on a bun. Its everything I've wanted to eat for the last 48 hours.” “What happened? I thought you were gonna 'last forever bitches.'” “Turns out I gave up easy. You hear that bitches? I gave up so easy.”

122 “If NAME had a twin, he/she would have eaten him/her in the womb.”

123 “Wait a minute, I think I just figured something out. I got to go.” “Aren't you forgetting something?” [person a gives Person b a kiss on the forehead] “Uh no, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?”

124 “The English language can not fully capture the depth and complexity of my thoughts. So I'm incorporating Emoji into my speech to better express myself. Winky face.”

125 “All right, gang. Diet day 4. How's everyone holding up?” “Honestly, I'm going to last forever. You hear that bitches? I'm gonna last forever.”

126 “If I die, turn my tweets into a book!”

127 “The only reason I didn't tell you is I don't value you as people, so why be honest?”

128 “Breakups are a cartoony thumbs down. They make people feel face-with-Xs-for-the-eyes.”

129 “I'm sorry. I just don't think this is something you're good at.” “What? The only thing I'm not good at is modesty, because I'm great at it.”

130 “Click. I just captured the exact moment you realized you had failed. I guess we all got something out of this.”

131 “It's so addictive, right? I play so much that when I close my eyes at night, I just see cupcakes instead of my normal dizzying array of flashing lights.”

132 “Forget your ex with meaningless sex. It rhymes because it's true.”

133 “NAME. NAME. NAME, I screwed up, big time.” “NAME, given your daily life experiences, you're gonna have to be more specific.”

134 “So, talk to me, goose. How are we looking?” “Sexy, but not like we're trying too hard. Like, sure, we're trying, but it's almost effortless.”

135 “Give me the ring.” “You sound like Gollum.” “That means nothing to me. I don't see those movies, I'm too pretty.”

136 “Oh no, six drink NAME isn't fun. He’s/She's just sad. Damn it!”

137 “I never have second thoughts. That's the luxury of having great first thoughts.”

138 “Ugh, constantly getting NAME’s approval is the worst.” “Yes. I can only imagine.”

139 “You think you can just bully people, but you can't. It's not okay. I'm the bully around here. Ask anyone.”

140 “This just might work out after all.” “You're damn right it will, 'cause we're a ragtag, scrappity, fart-dumb, moron parade, smart-ass team!”

141 “Okay, NAME, stop freaking out. I have the day off. I can step in and help.” “Yeah, me too. I'm not off, but I come and go as I please. It's part of my charm. I'm like an outdoor cat.”

142 “Gina, please keep an eye on NAME today. He's/She’s gonna say something to the wrong person and get himself/herself punched.” “Sure, I'd love to see NAME get punched.” “Try again.” “I will stop NAME from getting punched.” “Correct.”

143 “Oh, I want him/her out. But I'm too scared to tell him/her. “ “All right, listen. I know that your spirit animal is a caterpillar that's been stepped on —“ “Mm-hmm.”

144 “What are you creeps doing? You made me look away from my phone. You better pray I didn't miss a text.” “In the two seconds you looked away?” “Seventeen texts. All of them important.”

145 “What is my favorite soup?” “Chicken noodle.” “Potato leek.” “Corn frickin' noodle. I mean, chowder, damn it.” “You're all wrong. I've never had soup.” “Don't bother. They all suck.”

146 “Okay, so that plumber was useless. But we are two smart and capable people who can definitely figure out how to fix a toilet.” “Of course we can. The internet will tell us what to do. She always does.”

147 “It's crazy how much he/she flirts with me.”

148 “Good morning.” “For whom?” “For you-m.”

149 “So he/she didn't say what happened, which can only mean one thing.” “He's/She’s in a fight club.”

150 “What's up? How can I help?” “Well, when I was a kid, I invented a magnetic flashlight clip so I could read under the covers. This clip and I went all around the world together the Shire, Sweet Valley High, Terabithia.” “But never to a friend's house, huh?” “Uncalled for.”

Amy

151 “That stuff with us is in the past. We talked about that.” “I know, but that was before you saw me in this dope ass tux. I mean you must be freaking out.” “Oh, I really am. I'm really into rented clothes. I love how many butts have been in them.”

152 “You know, we're birds of a feather, you and I.” “I hate cliches.” “Cliches are the worst.”

153 “And now I don't know what to do.” “I think you do know what to do.” “Thanks, NAME.” [leaves the room] “I have no idea what he’s/she's gonna do but that's the safest way to give NAME advice.” “Yep.”

154 “Insult me all you want, for I have only this to say —“ “Victory shall be mine!” “I heard you practicing in the shower. You can't surprise me. Letting me into your life was the worst mistake you ever made.” “Cool, fun take on our relationship.”

155 “NAME, where you at?” “Four drinks.” “What's four-drink NAME again?” “Why don't you come over here and find out?” “Right, Horny NAME”

156 “I'm sorry. We only excluded you because you're kind of an over-texter.” “Over-texter? That's not even a thing.” “Oh really? So you don't remember the time you sent 97 unanswered texts in a five-minute span?” “My phone vibrated itself off the desk. I think it was committing suicide.”

157 “What the hell? I used NAME's exact recipe. I know I'm not a great cook, but I love following instructions.”

158 “What's going on? Is this a dream? No, I'm not holding a label maker.”

159 “My power went out last night and my alarm didn't go off.” “Your alarm is power dependent? You brought this on yourself, son.”

160 “I'd also like to apologize for my friend. His /Her parents didn't give him/her enough attention.”

161 “I'm in! A bet which improves someone's manners? Double score.”

162 “He’s/She's scared.” “He’s/She's not scared. With all due respect, NAME, NAME has no feelings.”

163 “I'm so cold even my fiery dance moves aren't keeping me warm.”

164 “I'm sorry. I tried to be myself and they hated it.”

165 “All right, someone's gotta go out there and kill that feathery bastard. NAME, you're always looking for an excuse to behead something.”

Sergeant Jeffords

166 “It was like taking candy from a baby.” “Why are you giving candy to a baby in the first place? Don't give candy to a baby! They can't brush their teeth!”

167 “I was raised on disco. Little NAME loved to hustle.”

168 “Or is your favorite artist really Taylor Swift?” [Scoffs] “No.” “Lie.” “All right, fine, she is. She makes me feel things.” “She makes all of us feel things!”

169 “Urgh, what's in these?” “Potatoes, butter, a little milk. Oh, and I ran out of salt, so I used baking soda.” “Why wouldn't you? They're both white powders. Of course they're interchangeable.” “Yeah.”

170 “I warned you against using donuts. They're my trigger food.”

171 “Hey, NAME, you know how you're really good at doodling?” “I know you think you're complimenting me, but calling them doodles is an insult. You a big fan of Picasso's doodles?”

172 “Your tone's braggy but your words are real sad.”

173 “See, NAME? Tough love works.” “Damn it! NAME proved the wrong point.”

174 “Now, be respectful and grieve your asses off.” “I don't know why this is happening.” “NAME, I love it. Everyone follow his/her lead!”

175 “Everything's spoiled. My lunch is ruined. My chicken, my potatoes, pasta, my meatballs, ham, my yogurt.” “Wow, that's a lot of yogurt.” “I love yogurt.”

176 “Kind of seemed like you were gonna get up and leave after saying all that.” “I was, but I think I hear NAME.”

177 “You better look cute in this picture, or no one's gonna want you. Do something with your damn paws!”

178 “My tolerance has really changed since I had kids!”

179 “I'm hungry!” “Oh, you're in luck; the fanny pack is filled with granola.” “Mmm! Loose granola.” “I don't want fanny granola! I want steaks and whiskey!”

180 “You probably can't tell, but I'm flexing my brain like crazy right now.”

181 “What's that smell? That's lavender. NAME loves lavender.”

182 “Okay. Excuse me. Can we please eat? My body is starting to digest itself. NAME needs nutrients!”

183 “Don't look at me. NAME wastes all that time building muscles, make him do it.” “Oh, come on, you all know these are just for show.”

184 “Sorry? You bumbling son of a bitch. You just ruined my life. I hope you get hit by a truck and a dog takes a dump on your face.” “Nothing to see here. Just a little hypoglycaemic rage. Move along.”

185 “I feel like a proud mama hen whose baby chicks have learned to fly!”

Hitchcock

186 “NAME, why do you have your shirt off?” “Can't spill food on your shirt if you're not wearing one.”

187 “What bet? What are you guys talking about?” “Seriously? The bet? They've been keeping score all year. It comes up all the time. What are you doing all day?!” “Nothing. Why, you want to hang out?”

188 “So you just want us to lie on the ground and do nothing like a bunch of losers?” “Yes, precisely.” “No!” “Jackpot!”

189 “I don't like it. Something stinks.” “Well, I'm sorry, but I refuse to mask my natural musk with a bunch of chemicals.”

190 “My God. NAME, are you the only person still making sense?” “Yeah. It's bad.”

191 “All right, food is ready, decorations are set, guests should start arriving any moment, and the chairs are still perfection.” “He/She said they're perfection. I'm so proud of you, buddy.” “It was you. You made this happen.”

192 “Who do you think it's gonna be?” “I've no idea.” “I bet it's me. I just hope I'm ready.”

193 “Okay, look, this was maybe a weird way to start the night, but the good news is, we can still make our dinner reservation and no one got hurt.” “Actually, I cut myself real bad.” “Of course you did.”

Scully

194 “Oh, so your plan is to not take this seriously at all?” “Oh, I am as serious as a heart attack. No offense, NAME.” “Nah. Mine are never that serious. I call 'em ‘oopsies’.”

195 “I miss my home chair.” “You miss a chair?”

196 “Are those thumbtacks? What the hell, NAME?” “I thought they'd make good confetti.” “Why?”

197 “All right, anyone else have questions? NAME, NAME, you've been weirdly silent.” “We didn't want to say anything that would get us uninvited.”

198 “Okay, first of all, I want to say that this was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. There is so much talent in this room.” “Just tell us, bitch. Act as if you already have the role.”

199 “I'll be back. Don't move.” “Not a problem. I hate moving.”

200 “Where should we begin? Do you have any experience with puzzles?” “Yes. I've never solved one.”

#brooklyn 99 prompts #brooklyn 99 quotes #jake peralta #rosa diaz #amy santiago #gina linetti #captain holt #sergeant jeffords #terry jeffords #charles boyle #scully b99 #hitchcock b99 #bb 99 prompts #bb 99 quotes #quaratine sucks and making these keeps my mind busy #i live in covid 19 hell

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notalittlebutalottie · 4 years ago

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Writing Reflection: Against the Cards {Klaroline}

Thinking about Against the Cards + Against the World and I can’t believe I even finished it... I know some people really like it, but I have so many negative associations with that story and I thought since it’s been two years since I finished the original AtC and a few months since AtW was wrapped up, I would discuss it.

How did I come to write it?

The first time I wrote it, I was in my first semester of university, lying in bed. I’m not sure how I came up with it, but I remember writing that first line ‘She could not help it. She just could not fucking help it. That bitch’ and going from there. I just wanted to write a story where Caroline had had enough of people telling her how she should feel and dealt with her resentment towards Elena. It was originally intended as a one-shot, but it spiralled and ended up a full story. I think my biggest goal with it was to just actually finish a WIP for once!

Which do I prefer? Against the Cards or Against the World?

Against the World will always win for me. Though I’m happy with certain aspects of Against the Cards, the sequel is something I can view more positively. Here’s why: the quality of writing is better in both narration and dialogue; the tone of the story is a lot more mature; it addresses Klaus’ faults as well as Caroline’s; and I think the ‘smut’ scene is both better quality-wise and in terms of its attributions to the story as a whole.

Why do I have negative associations with the story?

Back when I first published it, I liked it! However, as time has passed, I’ve felt a lot of negative emotions towards it. I don’t think the writing was as polished in AtC regarding grammar, dialogue, and certain areas of narration. AtC is the first story I completed for this fandom, so I felt a lot of pressure from the reviews that expected things to happen in the way that they wanted. AtC is home to my first ever smut scene but it is my least favourite piece of writing I have done thus far. After I finished it, I received a very mean review that called the fic ‘fucking stupid’ and likened Caroline to a doormat. I can joke about it now and I literally memed it last month(?) but it was so shit at the time. Personally, I think they were pissed because they got to the end of AtC and KC didn’t end up together, but the fic wasn’t about their romance, it was about Caroline’s personal growth. Yes, Caroline was insecure and bent to the will’s of others but...welcome to the conflict of the ENTIRE freaking story.

The largest negative association with AtW that I have is that I began it following a terribly long hiatus, I was on the brink of deleting all of my work and my tumblr, and I was getting a couple reviews at most. Some of the reviews left me feeling shit because on one hand, people were telling me ‘Caroline should get over it! They weren’t together because of her therefore she has no right to be angry that he slept with Hayley’ but then other reviews were saying ‘Klaus sucks. I don’t want them to be together’. And none of these reviews acknowledged my writing and the work I had done. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t try to change things for those reviews because it was an adult conflict; no single party was right or wrong and that’s how it works in real life. I was at an impasse with this story and finishing it was such a difficult mountain to climb. I’m proud of myself for finishing it, but it wasn’t an easy task.

The issue of smut

I thought this deserved it’s own little section because there are two smut scenes in the whole of this story and they are my least favourite and most interesting respectively. When I began AtC, KC’s first sexual encounter is not fully described, it’s just alluded to so it’s not really ‘smut’. And not to fault said reviewer (as this was a minor part of their larger comment), but someone commented their disappointment in not getting smut. This left me feeling a little pressured, that for people to really love the story, I had to write smut, which I had never done before, and so the smut scene I wrote for chapter 7 was incredibly forced and is uncomfortable for me to look back on. Objectively, it’s not terrible, but I was 20 years old and I didn’t really know myself sexually so how was I supposed to write something like that?

In contrast, AtW has a rather short smut scene in chapter 2 (chapter 16 on AO3) and I find it MUCH better. It was my third time writing smut, second being taken by Sing Me Sweet Nothings, but I just felt like it was much more realistic and just mature. The context of the scene is that KC are arguing over Klaus sleeping with Hayley until they reach this very high point of tension and they have sex. The reason why I like it so much is that it’s raw, emotional, and honest. It’s not meant to be arousing and overtly sexual, it’s meant to represent their conflicted feelings. They’ve been through so much and it feels like there’s always an obstacle, and they’re angry with each other and themselves so they know this isn’t the best circumstance to have sex under, but they want each other so badly.

What do I like about the story?

I love the ending of AtC! It was exactly what needed to happen and no one can convince me otherwise. I love Caroline’s personal growth from the beginning to the end! I like Elena’s characterisation for the most part and how she is referenced in AtW (because at the end of the day, it was never really about her). I like Hayley’s characterisation because she’s not just some mega-bitch out to cause havoc in KC land, she’s just living her life and she’s not suddenly being like “heeeeey bestie” to Caroline after the conflict ends. I adore the kitchen scene in chapter 1 of AtC; I think the tension is wonderful! There’s a substantial amount of dialogue I do love in AtC! And lastly, I love that I finished it! 😂 I see it as a personal triumph.

So there you have it! I hope you enjoyed this rambling of mine. I know I might come off as harsh, but I wanted to be honest in my reflection. I thank you for reading this if you have made it to the bottom and I thank you for reading the story. - Lottie

Never read Against the Cards + Against the World? Read it [here]!

#klaroline #klaus and caroline #the originals #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #writing reflection #against the cards #against the world #fanfiction

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goobergamer · 4 years ago

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Welcome to the Real World, Chpt. 4/?

Summary: ‘The real world’ is Marine Corps slang referring to civilian life after discharge.

Or, Washington, new and struggling veteran, moves into a duplex where he has a strange and surly neighbor with a penchant for the color red. (Sargington modern war vets AU)

Pairing: Sarge/Washington (Red vs. Blue)

Warnings: Alcohol use in this chapter

First chapter on Tumblr here: (x). Also crossposted to AO3.

Wash is a chronic homebody rapidly chewing through the books on his shelf and the TV shows he can stand to be semi-present for. The phone never rings when he’s there, but he still can’t help and check every morning and night hoping the voicemail light will have come on.

He’s pretty sure he saw a couple of his teammates when he was taken in by the medical team, half-coherent. No one has been in touch since, through his care or discharge. He’s not sure what he expects them to say. Wish you were here, xoxo? Sorry you’ve cracked? (He’s not crazy.) Thanks for compromising the mission, asshole? How could you have fucked up so badly?

Wash isn’t sure. But he thinks he’d take any of it over the dead light and the dial tone.

---

It just keeps getting hotter as they approach midsummer, and one day when Wash steps outside straight into a wall of humidity, Sarge joins him only to suggest that he come inside for coffee so they don’t just up and die on the porch from the weather.

Wash is pleasantly surprised when Sarge gives him a tour of the downstairs space; it’s cluttered, but not a junk pile as he may have guessed. Rather, the home looks lovingly lived-in. A card table is open in the corner of the living room, with parts and tools for some sort of electronics project scattered across it. The TV stand is covered in small piles of DVDs; at quick glance Wash sees serious war documentaries mingling with old family sitcoms.

Of course, it still shows little signs of Sarge’s quirkiness beyond the multiple locks on the door. Despite the gun cabinet standing against the wall with his scarlet beret sitting atop it, there’s a shotgun casually leaned up against the coffee table that Wash only hopes has the safety on. Everything that can come in different colors is red in Sarge’s apartment; upholstery, painted wood, you name it. There’s a strawberry Yoo-hoo balanced on the couch armrest, and Wash halfway wonders if the flavor was chosen to fit the color scheme.

They take their coffee on very red chairs at the very red table in the kitchen. Sarge is polite enough to only harass Wash for two straight minutes about how he takes his coffee (“Washington, without sugar you’ll have no energy to defend yourself!” “Defend myself from what?”) The new location doesn’t change much until Wash asks, “Which way to your bathroom? Is your side of the duplex the same as mine?”

“Flipped. Upstairs to the left.”

When Wash walks into the bathroom, it takes him a moment to register what’s off. At first he thinks Sarge had installed a full-size towel rack above the sink, but after stepping closer, he sees that a bath towel has simply been strung across the medicine cabinet to cover it.

He remembered, Wash realizes. He remembered the mirror.

Something in his throat tightens, almost imperceptibly. It was a small, simple gesture, but an appreciated one all the same, at a time when the world feels minimal in its kindness.

---

When Wash hears a knock on his door early one evening, he only pauses a moment before opening it without the chain in place, having an easy enough guess of who it will be. “Hey, Sarge. Something you need?”

Sarge is leaning against the doorframe all too casually, an atypical grin splitting his face in two. “Washington, when was the last time you went out anywhere?”

Wash pauses for a moment, thinking. “I go running every day? Beyond that, I picked up groceries three days ago.”

Sarge switches battle tactics. “When was the last time you went somewhere to do something fun?”

Wash has a sinking, suspicious feeling he knows the ballpark where this is heading. “...I don’t mind grocery shopping.”

“...Well, that answers that.” Sarge chuckles. He doesn’t seem too surprised. Wash supposes he can’t really be insulted; a serious answer to Sarge’s question would have been ‘on shore leave over a year ago’.

“There’s a legion a couple towns over,” Sarge continues. “A few of the guys I know are catching up there tonight! There will be drinks! General merriment! And YOU are cordially invited!”

“I wouldn’t know any of the people there.”

“I can introduce ya’!”

Wash knows that Sarge isn’t the type to take no for an answer when his mind is set on something. And he has to acknowledge that he has become a hermit in the months since his discharge, to an unsustainable extent. At some point he’ll have to reconnect with the real world. May as well do it with a friend to guide him. “Alright, fine.”

“That’s the spirit!”

They take Sarge’s Ford, a decades-spanning oddity; the truck itself is from the 70’s, but has a new high-tech radio system Sarge says he installed himself. The radio will only tune into an obnoxious polka station from god knows where and which Sarge will claim no fault in his installation process for. The drive is still nice with the windows rolled low, Sarge resting his elbow on the sill as he steers with one hand, Wash turning in his seat so the early evening sun shines down on his face.

They’re quickly hailed by a chorus of both greetings and heckling from a far table when Sarge leads the way into the Legion. There’s one chair left open for Sarge when they approach, but he grabs another one from an empty table and plants it next to his own for Wash, the nearest guy shuffling over to make more space.

“Men, this is Washington,” Sarge announces when they’ve settled in. Wash receives some amicable nods and hello’s from the ensemble; apparently Sarge doesn’t think more introduction is necessary, and neither do they. “Washington, this is Tucker, Caboose, Donut, Lopez, Simmons, and Grif.” There’s a surly element to his tone when he introduces the last one, who seems unperturbed, just offering Wash a late “‘Sup?” before some earlier conversation picks back up.

Wash takes the time to examine the group unnoticed, observing that they look ragtag in more ways than one. They’re all young, younger than Wash, though it's not always easy to tell under the scars; the majority of this group look like they had to physically claw their way out of warzones. Wash can pick out four prosthetics between what he can see of just two of the people at the table, and with the extent of Lopez’s, he might guess prosthetic legs were hidden out of sight too. Grif and...Donut? sport some major scarring visible above the table. Grif’s scars, a layer of patchworks across his cheek and down one arm, look too clean to be from anything in-field; skin grafts, maybe? With Donut’s ear and eye gone, and the side of his nose and lips halfway there, it’s easy to assume that he took something hard straight to the face.

“—Before I can catch whatever gave Private Pinhead that stroke of inspiration, I’m going to get a drink!” Sarge huffs, brushing off a conversation with Grif to rise. “You want something, Washington?”

“Oh, I—whatever you’re getting is fine. Thanks.” Wash reaches for his wallet to offer him payment for the drink, but Sarge has already moseyed over to the bar.

“So, Washington, how do you know Sarge?” Simmons asks, all attention now turning to the new guy.

“He’s my neighbor.”

“Man, that sucks,” Tucker replies, though obviously without true rancor.

“Could be worse. He could live next to Donut,” Grif says.

“Hey!”

“That’s right, has Lopez gotten his insurance pay back after that fire yet?”

“No.”

“Hey, I said sorry, I didn’t think a hair dryer could overheat like that! I guess I’d been doing too much blowing.”

Amidst a chorus of groans, Sarge returns with a pina colada in each hand. “Can’t believe the bartender didn’t card me! They’re supposed to card anyone under forty.”

“And why would they card you, again?” Wash asks as he takes one of the drinks. Sarge’s efforts to convince Wash that he’s some ludicrous age are drowned out by amused laughter from others at the table.

The longer Wash is there with them, the more he feels himself settling into the rhythm of the conversation, becoming comfortable enough to laugh and joke along. By the end of the night, he’s been wrapped up into a number of ridiculous and crazy anecdotes that tell him two things: Sarge surrounds himself only with those that are as insane as himself, and that Wash has had the best night in as many weeks despite his hesitation before he came.

“They’re idiots, but they’re my idiots,” Sarge says fondly in the car on the way home.

“I can see why. They’re good guys.”

“We’re there every week. Just let me know if you want to come along again.” Washington looks at Sarge, but Sarge is cheerfully watching the road as he says it.

It’s an unexpected offer, but certainly not unwelcome as he thinks about the dark apartment he’s about to return to. Remembering the warmth of the rum and the night’s festivities is a strong pull. “I just might take you up on that.”

#wttrw #welcome to the real world #rvb #red vs blue #red vs. blue

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sherlollydramoine · 5 years ago

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Merry XXXMas

Warnings: 18+ only. Okay so this gets filthy, but there is also a little bit of fluff...Language, unprotected sex (as always-wrap it before you tap it).

This is unedited so therefore all mistakes are mine.

This is for the anon on @free-rami‘s page that wanted some XXXMas fanfiction for Rami. Here ya go, whoever you are, I hope this satisfies!

Word Count: 5,272

You weren’t looking forward to spending any time with your family around the holidays, as you didn’t have a great relationship with your family. Your older sister and brother were both very successful at what they did. One was a doctor the other was a lawyer, you know those jobs that are the epitome of the American dream and the respectable jobs that everyone considered “important.” Every family holiday was always the same. Being lectured on how you were the least successful of all of your siblings because you were a hair and makeup artist. Your career wasn’t worthy of note because it didn’t always pay the best, and couldn’t garner you much accolades. That is how your family defined success.

Or it was until you were fortunate enough to work on a few very high profile jobs and started winning awards for your work. It was on your second high profile job that you ended up meeting your boyfriend.

Rami was incredibly successful in his field, having won a ton of awards for his work, and your father absolutely loved him. You had successfully avoided having to bring him home with you for family holidays until your mom put her foot down and insisted. You had compromised and both of you agreed to go to dinner at your parents house on Christmas Eve.

You had your reservations because your sister was a huge fan, and even though she was married that wouldn’t stop her from trying to flirt with him, and you were so nervous about it. Annabeth is quite a force to be reckoned with and has always gotten what she wanted, that’s why she was so successful as an attorney.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you were putting your earrings on. Anxieties running through your head, all the ‘what ifs’ and years of self-doubt.

“Hey babe, you almost ready?” Rami asked, with a soft smile on his face. You watch his eyes drink in your appearance as he put his hands on your hips to pull you close to him. He rests his head on your shoulder and tightened his grip on you. “I love you, you know that. If you are worried about your sister, don’t be. I only have eyes for you.”

“I know it’s just that-”

“Nonsense” he interrupted, placing a kiss to your temple. His hands at your waist

“You are the best you know that? I love you so much. I wish we could just skip all the familial obligations we are burdened with today, and just stay here, preferably in bed while we worship each other.”

“Me too. But a promise is a promise. If we didn’t show something tells me that your mother would drive her ass all the way across town and drag us both out of bed.”

You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped you because it was true. If you didn’t show up today she would do exactly that.

“Alright Rami, I’m done, how do I look?” you ask, as you do a small spin around the bathroom.

“You look fucking fantastic. I can’t wait to see this dress on the floor later with you under me screaming my name.” he smirked, as he places a chaste kiss to your red tinted lips.

“We are such horn dogs. Animals. Isn’t that what Sami called us the last time he was here? In my defense I was also nearly a bottle of wine deep into the evening, and I have always had a hard time keeping my hands to myself around you. By the way you look ravishing yourself and you smell so good. I seriously want to say fuck it and stay here to fuck your brains out.” you said, as you turned your body to face him, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. Your hips pressing into his as you reach up to cup his face and capture his lips in a not so chaste kiss this time.

“Mmmmmm…” he hummed, clearly sharing in your line of thinking.

“Yes 'mmmmm’ is right babe. I want you so bad right now.” you whisper in his ear, your hands working their way down his body to cup him through the front of his dress pants.

He lets out a small whimper in response to your actions and his hips slightly buck into your hand and then he smirks devilishly against your mouth before his hand comes down on yours to gently remove your hand from his crotch.

“I know but we really should get going if we want to arrive close to the time we told your mom we would.” he replied, much to your chagrin.

“Damn. I was hoping I could turn you on enough that you’d want to stay home.”

“Oh trust me baby, I’m really turned on right now, I’m hard as a rock, but a promise is a promise.” he winks as he had to adjust himself in his pants.

“Ugh. You suck!” you stick your tongue out at him like a child.

He laughs,”Maybe, but you will definitely be sucking on something later.”

And God damn, if that statement didn’t make your panties nearly fly off your body.

The drive over to your parent’s house was bordering on torturous. He told you that you weren’t allowed to do anything about it, but his dirty talk in combination with the sexy natural huskiness of his voice was enough to nearly have you undone.

“Can’t wait to see your beautiful eyes looking up at me as you suck my dick. Your lips stretched around me with your lipstick smeared all over your face and my cock. To watch your eyes nearly roll back in your head as I fuck you so hard you scream my name. And trust me, you will be screaming my name. I can’t wait to watch your body swallow my cock, to hear your moans filling the room, knowing that I’m the only one that ever gets to make you feel good.”

It took all the strength you had to not cum right there on the seats, your thighs rubbing together seeking some sort of friction.

“Fuck Rami, I’m soaked. We may have to go home just so I can change my outfit.” you whine, hoping that he’ll take the bait and turn the car around.

“Nice try but it’s not happening.”

You did the next best thing you could think of to try and incentivise him to turn around. You lift your hips and slide your panties down your legs, they were soaked, and when he stopped at a red light, you tossed them at him. You watch as they bounce of his gorgeous cheek and then land in his lap.

He raises a brow before he turned to you with a smirk,”You’ll pay for that.”

The wetness between your thighs just getting worse, and now you had no barrier to help hide the mess that you were making of yourself.

“Gahhhh… I want you so fucking bad and you are...ugghhhh!! Why? Why are you so fucking stubborn?”

His laughter loud as he reaches out to grab your hand.

“You’ll get over it. A promise is a promise. What makes you think that I don’t want you just as bad right now anyway? I’m so turned on right now, and I really want nothing more than to pull over somewhere and fuck the shit out of you, but that is not in the cards for us at this moment in time. We have somewhere we absolutely need to be and we’re already late.”he informs you as his grip on your hand tightens.

Less than fifteen minutes later you were pulling up outside your parent’s house and with a groan you force yourself out of the car.

The inside of your parent’s house was a flurry of activity. Bodies moving in and out of the kitchen and a few kids running amuck in the house. Everyone in your family had already met Rami so there weren’t any awkward introductions that needed to be made. Offering to help your mom in the kitchen she gladly accepted. Rami tagged along just as eager to help even though your mom insisted that he go and hang out with guys.

You had no idea why Rami would offer to help in the kitchen but he follows orders well, so he was allowed to stay. All too quickly you ascertain exactly why he wanted to help so badly, and you kind of want to kill him for it, or at least fuck the shit out of him.

It starts casually as an ‘accidental’ touch here or there, a brush of your hands, but it escalates very quickly to full fledged groping whenever no one else was watching. The front of his body pressed against your back as he used the excuse that he needed to grab a dish out of the cupboard above your head. You seize the opportunity to grind your ass into his cock and he had to bite back a moan.

His right hand ghosts its way down your body before settling on your hip where he firmly grips it and pulls you hard against him. The little shit has the audacity to begin to subtly thrust his hips against your ass, the reaction your body had to his almost caused you to drop the dish of mashed potatoes you were holding; biting your lip hard enough to nearly draw blood.

He leans down so that his mouth is about a centimeter from your ear, he whispers,”You are so sexy in that dress, I can’t wait to take it off of you in a few hours. I can’t wait to give it to you so good you won’t walk right tomorrow.”

You respond by turning your body around and capturing his lips in a searing kiss, your hips grinding into each others, soft moans leaving both of you, as your hands start roaming all over each other’s bodies. Both of you for a second completely forgetting where you are until you hear a voice that nearly makes your heart stop.

“God damn YN why the fuck would you do that in here?” you sister Annabeth complained.

“Fuck off Annabeth.”

You pulled Rami closer as you bucked your hips into his, letting out a slightly over dramatic moan, as you continued to dry hump him against the kitchen counter. As it turns out, Rami is all for this game that is being played. Neither of you giving a fuck in this moment who sees what.

His lips find that sweet spot on your neck and you let out a whimper, as he sucks a mark into the tender flesh.

“YN, now everyone will know you are mine, just as I am yours.”

“God you two are fucking disgusting.” Annabeth complained again.

“And why are you still standing there? Doesn’t that make you feel like a perv for watching?” you pointed out.

Just then your mom re-entered the kitchen and announced that it was time to serve dinner. The three of you were instructed to carry the various components of dinner to the formal dining room, which the three of you did without complaint.

Once everything was on the table and everyone had taken their seats at the table conversation quietly began before your dad had announced that he was going to say a prayer. Everyone held hands, except you and Rami because his left hand was resting on your thigh, his fingers ghosting upwards towards his target.

His fingers find your core easily, and very quietly he says “fuck your soaked.” Slowly he inserts one then two fingers and starts to really move his hand. Your hips start to move against his hand and given how worked up you’ve been since you’d left home, you had to bite your tongue to stop the moan that threatened to leave your lips. His ministrations were so purposeful and skilled that it only took you a few minutes to feel your orgasm building to you nearly falling over the edge. You were so distracted enjoying the bliss you experiencing, trying not to make yourself obvious,you were unable to hear your father finish up the prayer.

Rami playful nudged you and realized why so you open your mouth, “Ahhh.. ahhh.. Amen.” you half moan, half stutter out.

His fingers still working you so deliciously, your body moments away from orgasm, you lean over and nip his ear before whispering,”Sinner.” His lips boldly find yours in the nick of time because he was able to swallow your quiet cries of pleasure and no one in your family was any wiser, except maybe your sister who looked as if she’d swallowed something bitter.

As dinner progressed and most of the adults were two or three glasses of wine deep, conversations became more interesting. Your sister was trying to engage Rami in conversation and trying not to get irritated with her attempts to flirt, while her husband sat oblivious next to her. He always has this amazing ability to handle everything with such grace, that he is easily able to deflect. Your stomach was full, your body warm with happiness and alcohol, and you start to watch Rami’s mouth when he speaks.

Your body already warm started to heat up, and you had started to rub your thighs together, when a thought popped into your head. He had you undone earlier, maybe it was your turn to repay the favor.

You scoot your chair closer to Rami’s and you rest your head on his shoulder, his arm automatically snaking its way around you. Your man is so beautiful that you can’t take your eyes off of him. The way his jaw and mouth move when he speaks, his ocean colored eyes bright, and his smile. God you wanted him so bad and when he looked down at you, he could clearly see the mischief in your eyes. You attempt to move your body closer to his, and he allows it, as you try to melt into him.

Trying to be subtle, you start moving the hand closest to his body along his thigh, just feather light touches over the fabric of his dress pants. His conversation never stops as a few of your cousins had some questions for Rami. They were always the same kind of questions he usually gets but he never failed to give them a great answer. He shifts his hips under your hand, as you actually start to massage him through his pants, relishing in the way his body is so reactive to your touch. You just smile up at him, trying to look innocent as you hand finds its way to his belt. Your fingers begin the process of undoing his belt and opening his dress pants, as you slide your warm hand into his pants. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from making any noise as you grip him, sliding your thumb across his slit and coating his cock with his pre-cum, as you slowly move your hand up and down his cock. His hips shift again, as you work him, while wearing a smirk, hoping that he could maintain his conversations.

His grip on your waist tightens as he fights to keep from making any noise, with your family still milling about, you were working him hard and fast, hoping to make this quick when your mom walks in and announces that it was time for presents.

Both of you let out a frustrated groan, as your eyes meet his. All you could do was shrug as you kept working him, “We’ll be there in a minute mom. Go ahead and start without us.”

Never once stopping what you were doing, your family files out of the formal dining room and gathers in the large living room. Feeling bold since everyone had left the room, you waste no time pulling him completely out of his pants, and begin to really work him. Not wanting to have to clean up the mess you slide out of your chair and onto your knees in front of him.

He lets out a little gasp of shock as he sits back and watches you work.

Taking him into your mouth, working him with your tongue as your hands begin to massage his balls. Looking up at him through your lashes you observe him biting his lip, forehead covered in a light layer of sweat, his eyes screwed shut, one of his hands ends fisting itself in your hair as his hips began to buck up, pushing himself further into your mouth.

“Yessss baby… yess.. M’so close… yess.. Oh god baby your mouth… fuck... im gonna…..“ he cries out, just as you feel his hot cum down the back of your throat.

Allowing him a few to come back down from his temporary high, you just sit on your knees between his legs, on the hardwood floor of your parent’s formal dining room.

His grip on your hair loosens and you casually stand up smoothing your dress over your hips. You lean forward and capture his lips for a sweet kiss. His hands reaching out for you before he pulls into his lap

“YN, I love you so much. That was hot, and thank you.” he says, his forehead pressed to yours. You wrap your arms around his neck as you just stare into each other's eyes for a few minutes, until your sister Annabeth decides to come barging in and yelling at you to hurry the fuck up.

Annabeth stops in her tracks and just looks shocked before her face screws up into disgust. “Seriously YN?! I can’t believe you, I expected better -”

“You know what Anna-Just shut the fuck up! Just stop! I’ve had enough of your fucking mouth. Just because you are bored with your life, because you did what our parents wanted you to do and didn’t follow your passions, you can stop being a fucking cunt to me. You are one of the main reasons I never come visit. You are just jealous because I followed my dreams, ended winning awards for my talents, and landed my dream man; you are stuck in a loveless, sexless marriage and working a job you have no passion for. For the love of God, just leave me alone. I don’t need your commentary on everything I choose to do in my life. So what, I got horny, and I just sucked my boyfriend off under the dinner table after Christmas dinner, how does my decision directly affect or hurt you?” you spat, trying to keep your voice low. You didn’t want to draw the rest of your family to the dining room.

Anna just looked shocked as she spun on her heel and rushed out of the dining room.

Rami still sitting in his chair with you in his lap, just wrapped his arms around your briefly and murmured how proud he was of you in your ear, the fingers of his left hand coming up to card through your hair, and his right hand resting on your back holding you close. He knew that your sister was always the most critical of you and you had shared with him that you suspected it was just because she was jealous.

Your mom entered the dining room again and stood observing the two of you. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth before she quietly said, “Look I know you two are very much in love and it is really hard to keep your hands to yourselves, but if you could please get yourselves put back together and join the rest of us for presents. The littles are mostly done opening all their stuff and we’d love for all of the adults to be actually in the room for the gift exchanging.”

As soon as your mom walks away both of you descended into a fit of giggles. You climbing off his lap as he tucked himself back into his pants. You leaning in to help him refasten his pants and belt. Both of you peppering each others faces with small kisses.

“God baby I want to just say ‘fuck it’ and fuck you right on your parent’s dining room table.”

“Yessssss…. God I want you to so badly, but you heard my mom. She WILL come back here every three minutes until we join them.”

Once you were both satisfied that you both had readjusted, retucked, and smoothed yourselves out you made one last stop to take a look in the mirror in the dining room for a final check.

“Oh my God Rami my lipstick!”

He just laughs out loud and grabs a napkin from the pile that had been left on the buffet. He gently wipes the smeared lipstick off and even though it may have made the rest of your makeup a little splotchy you didn’t care.

“Don’t worry about reapplying it right now love. Let’s just get out there.” Rami says with a smile, as he grabs a hold of your hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

Finding that there was only one spot left to sit you told Rami to sit on the couch, while you sat just below him between his legs. Your dad acting as ‘Santa’ and handing out everyone’s gifts while the children ran around playing with their new toys.

After all the gifts have been opened and everyone’s stuff was neatly stacked in piles by the front door, everyone headed back into the formal dining room for dessert. Of course your mom had gone all out, you felt it was partially to impress Rami at his first family Christmas with you; she’d made eight different kinds of pies, two traditional Christmas desserts, cake with ice cream, and a giant bowl of homemade whipped cream.

“Mom that’s enough to feed four times as many people as we have here right now.” you point out.

She shrugs and just smiles, “More for you kiddies to take home and enjoy later.”

You took over for your mom trying to give her a break, serving everyone up their chosen desserts before choosing your own and taking your seat next to Rami. The wine everyone had consumed earlier was really showing now. People’s bodies were much more relaxed, and conversation flowed much easier than it had earlier. Rami had his chair pulled close to the table deeply engrossed in a conversation with your brother, between bites of his dessert. Your chair was angled toward his with your feet currently resting in his lap, as you leaned back barely touching your dessert.

You were resting your head against the back of your chair just watching Rami talk. He’s so animated, especially when he’s really passionate about something, his body really comes alive while he speaks. His hands gesturing wildly as he continues on about whatever, before you feel his left hand come to rest on your calf.

His fingers lazily drawing little patterns on your skin, which instantly causes your body to shudder, your flesh now covered in goosebumps. His conversation showing no signs of slowing but he does turn his head towards you give you a smile. That smile, the smile, as his fingers continue moving against your skin. You pull your leg away from his body, and he shoots you a look of confusion, before he realizes what you are doing.

Standing up, you set your dessert plate on the table, and slide your chair across the floor closer to his, your chair still angling towards him. You drape your right leg over his lap this position leaving your body very open to whatever he has planned.

His fingers resume their little dance across your leg, as they slowly make their way up to the apex of your thighs. As soon as they’ve reached their intended destination he wastes no time, his fingers finding your clit, and with a flick you let out a little squeak and nearly fall out of your chair.

He shoots you a look of mock concern, as he continues moving his fingers. He only stops to pull his fingers away from your clit for just a quick second so that he could adjust his position in his chair, as a couple of his fingers slide their way into your slick folds, his thumb finding your clit again.

You were biting your lip to keep from letting out a loud moan, as he continues pumping his fingers in and out of you, before he curled his fingers into a 'come hither motion inside of you. Hitting your g spot and instantly sent you over the edge. As you open your mouth to let out a scream, he shoves a forkful of his pie into your mouth. Staring at him in wide eyed shock, you end up moaning around the pie in your mouth, as you clench around his fingers, your orgasm a small but powerful one.

A few members of your family look at your a bit curiously before the little shit opens his mouth instead,”She really likes pie. I can’t say I blame her, it’s really delicious.”

You watch him as he leans forward and licks the corner of your mouth, before he brings his fingers to his lips and sucks his fingers clean.

“Jeez YN, you really are a messy eater, aren't you?” he grins.

“The messiest baby, the messiest.”

You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he leans down to whisper in your ear again.

“Wanna get out of here? I can’t wait to get you home and finally out of that dress. I want my cock buried in you within the next hour or I might combust.”

You slowly nod your head as stand up to prepare to start saying your goodbyes to your family. Your dad helping you to carry some leftovers and your gifts out to the car. A few more hugs and kisses later, you two were finally in the car headed home.

“God Rami, I want you so bad. This has been a long afternoon and evening- I just want you to fuck me so bad. I’m feeling insatiable, a little slut just for you.”

His laughter loud in the car as he beams at you.

“I’m feeling the same way my love, trust me though. I’m going to give it to you so good when we get home. Oh, your panties in my pocket, they still aren’t dry.”

Your mouth almost hits the floor as you had completely forgotten about your panties, or rather lack of.

Holiday traffic was surprisingly light and you made it home in record time. That could have been because Rami was driving well over the speed limit and he may have run a red light or two in his own eagerness to get you home so that he can ravish you the way he was absolutely dying to.

He was insistent that at least you bring the food that your mom had sent home with you into the house before you took off towards the bedroom. Since he’s the one that had the food you beat him there, and was in the process of trying to pull your dress off when you felt him come up behind you.

His hands grasped your zipper and slowly lowered it, sliding the straps of your dress off your shoulders, silently watching your dress pool at your feet. Stepping out of your shoes you turn your body to face him.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, his hands coming up to cup your face. Your lips meet and the kiss started softly but quickly turned into a deep passionate one, his fingers in your hair. Your body always responsive to his, your hands on his hips pulling him closer to you. Feeling his erection straining against his pants, you find your fingers fumbling to undo his belt in your haste to have him fuck you as he had promised earlier in the afternoon.

He pulls your hands away and sheds his clothing at lightning speed, his cock bouncing as it was finally freed for only the second time today from the constraints of his pants.

The hungry look on his face had your pussy quivering with excitement as his hands shove you hard causing you to stumble and land on your back on your mattress. You two had had enough teasing today and you were both eager to just finally be able to join as one.

His body slinking up yours between your open legs, he takes himself in his hand as guides himself to your entrance. Letting out your first unrestrained moan of the day as he slides himself into you until he is bottomed out. He looks down and watches himself disappear into you, before he pulls back and almost completely out of you, then slides himself back into you. His breathy moan was so hot that you involuntarily clenched around him and he hissed.

“Keep that up baby and I won’t last more than five seconds.”

“God Rami, fucking move. I can’t take this anymore, I just want you to fuck me. Make me scream like you promised.”

He says nothing but he slams himself into you hard and you did scream. His hips slamming into yours hitting your G spot every time, and with each thrust of his hips you claw at the sheets. Rami’s large hands find their way to your hips, his grip bruising as fucks into you at a brutal pace.

Your breath coming in short ragged pants, as you bring your hands up to his neck trying to hold on as he fucks you hard. Your legs acting on their accord have wrapped themselves around his waist, which subtly changed the angle, and you can feel yourself already rushing towards an orgasm.

Incoherent ramblings spilling from your lips as he continues to fuck you, your head thrown back, fingers clawing at his shoulders when you feel that pleasure starting in the pit of your stomach.

“Ohhhhhh fuckkkkkkkk…..yesssssssss…. Godddddddd yessssss…. Ramiiiiiiii... I’m gonna… oh fuck… RAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII” you scream as your walls clench and unclench around his cock.

Screaming his name out, you feel his hips begin to slow as he follows you into O-Town, your name being the only thing leaving his lips, as his eyes were screwed tightly shut. You can feel his warm essence spill into you, his hips still moving as he rides out his orgasm.

You both collapse back onto the bed, chests heaving, tightly wrapped in each others arms. Your right hand coming up to card your fingers through his sweat soaked hair, as your lips find his for a soft kiss, with you both pressed forehead to forehead.

“God baby I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” was his response.

“Merry Christmas my love. I hope you had a great day today, because I know I did.” you smile softly at him your face now buried in his chest, as his fingers run down your back lazily drawing little patterns over your sweaty skin.

“Me too. We still have to go spend Christmas with my family tomorrow though. Are you prepared for that?” he asks, voice tinged with amusement.

“Well if it is anything like today, I’m sure I’ll be just fine.” you half heartedly laugh out.

“I’m sure arrangements can be made, though I’m not sure my brother would appreciate it.”

@mrhoemazzello @xmxisxforxmaybe @itsme690 @txmel @theultraviolencefan @ramimedley @r-ahh-mi @doing-all-write @mezzomercury

#Rami Malek #Rami Malek Smut #Rami Malek Fanfiction #Rami Malek Imagine #Rami Malek Christmas #Christmas Smut #Christmas #Enjoy lovelies #Please leave me feedback #Requests are open

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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941

ACH

Do you listen to anything by Bach? I’ve probably encountered some of his material since I like looking for classical musical playlists to listen to on Spotify, but I’m nowhere near being a devoted fan or anything like that.

ASH

Do you like ash trees? I’m not attached to any kind of tree, really – but I know I have nothing against this kind, haha.

Do you have the ashes of a family member or a pet? No. The only ashes I’ve gotten to encounter are my grandpa’s, but we’ve since placed them in our local ossuary so that he can rest in peace.

How often do you feel like you want to bash your head against a wall? Before September, quite seldom. But with this month being so turbulent, chaotic, and nothing like I expected it to be, seldom has turned into every day.

Has anyone ever thrown you a big birthday bash? Sure. I had a big party when I was 7 and I also had a nice slew of celebrations when I turned 18. But if you mean a surprise birthday bash then no, no one has thrown one for me.

Do you know anyone who is brash? I do, but fortunately I haven’t had to work with her for a while now. I certainly often felt annoyed when I used to have to.

Do you typically carry cash or a credit/debit card? OMG Y’ALL I finally opened my own bank account last Friday I’ve never felt so grown-up until now haha. My dad helped me set up my first card, which is a debit card. :)

Have you ever crashed someone else’s party before? No, that sounds so annoying omg. I’d never want to be known as a gatecrasher. I know I’d be pissed if someone showed up to any of my parties uninvited.

Have you ever been involved in a car crash? Yes but fortunately they’ve all been super mild ones. One of my biggest fears is getting involved in a car crash where things would be out of my control and becoming seriously injured, like if a drunk driver crashed into me or if a 12-wheeler loses its brakes and slams into my car or something. I think I’d live in resentment for the rest of my life if that sort of thing happened to me and still ended up alive.

Do you use Door Dash? I didn’t know what this is so I had to look it up, and even though we don’t have Door Dash we do have several apps that do exactly the same services.

How often do you use a dash in your writing? I like using them in more casual contexts like survey entries, personal essays, feature articles, etc. I avoid dashes in academic writing since dashes are not really the most formal of punctuation marks.

Last place you made a mad dash to? The car repair shop that my dad asked me to meet him at because his situation was a little urgent at the time.

Do you make it a habit to flash people? Oh wow, no I don’t. That’s one of the last things anyone can expect from me. I like wearing revealing or skin-tight articles of clothing, but that doesn’t mean I like giving absolutely everything away lol

Do you prefer flash or no flash on a camera? No flash, always. I hate the effect that flash does and I never go for it, unless I’m in an area where lighting is poor.

Is the Flash one of your favorite superheroes? No. I’m not very big on superheroes to begin with.

Do you use the phrase “I’ll be back in a flash”? Not really. I find myself using “I’ll be super quick” more, or using ‘jiffy’ instead of flash.

Have you ever had a gash in your head before? Anywhere else on your body? I sported a gash near my eyebrow once because of some cousin who tried to blind me by hurling a glass jar towards my left eye and just narrowly missing my actual eyeball. Now there’s a scar in its place. Currently, I have multiple gashes on my arms and legs because Cooper.

Do you like hash browns? They’re okay, but I can’t have them all the time because I find them way too greasy for my enjoyment.

Do you do hash? No.

How often do you use hash tags? Almost never, unless I’m fighting for a political cause like BLM or calling for free mass testing. Hashtags got real lame real quick when they started getting popular around 7-8 years ago.

Do you have long eyelashes? Yes, it’s my favorite feature of mine and I get compliments on them fairly often.

How often do you lash out at others? For what reasons? Not often, but when I do it’s almost always because I’m already buckling under immense pressure and probably have nowhere to release my stress onto. I don’t turn it into an automatic mechanism though, because I don’t want to make others feel like shit for things they didn’t do.

Do you like mashed potatoes? I enjoy them but they’re not really my favorite dish. I can do 4-5 spoonfuls of them before getting over them haha, like I can never seem to finish a serving of it.

Do you typically gnash your teeth together? No I HATEEEE the sensation and the sound that it makes. My sister grinds her teeth in her sleep and it drives me nuts whenever we’re on a family trip and we share a room.

Do you know someone who speaks balderdash? Sure.

What color is the backsplash of your kitchen? White.

Have you ever had any rashes before? What kinds? Yes. Back in high school I used to occasionally get a random itchy area on my leg and whenever I’d scratch it, it would turn into an ugly patch of rashes. I never figured what the condition was but I’m just glad it’s never happened again.

Do you typically make rash decisions? Sometimes. I really tend to impulsive. The last one I made was swapping a full-time job opportunity for an internship with much lesser pay. Even I was surprised by how quick I jumped into the latter, but I like the nature of the work of the internship SO MUCH MORE, and I dunno if I’ll be happy with what I would be doing in the full-time gig. Plus, internships here are never even paid ones, so the fact that they even offered to give me an allowance per day just goes to show how good the company I’m interning for is.

Have you ever worn a sash before? I probably have but I don’t remember what for anymore.

Do you often find that your personality clashes with others’ around you? Yes, but I’m also good at adjusting to all kinds of personalities so I’m not too bothered by the clashes.

Whose tires would you like to slash? Any racist’s tires, really.

Who would you like to smash with? No one at the moment.

What was the last thing you smashed out of anger? I don’t really tend to be violent when I’m angry. The last angry thing I did was to throw my head against a pillow, but that’s it.

Do you have a secret stash of something hidden anywhere? Nopes.

How often do you take out the trash? My parents prefer to do it so they don’t really ask us to.

Has anyone ever told you that you look like trash? Other than myself, no.

Do you like to splash in the pool, the bathtub, or in puddles? I wouldn’t call it my favorite thing to do; I hate the mess that it makes, ha.

Have you ever thrashed violently before? What was the cause? Yeah. I probably embarrassed my grandma for life when I did so, but it was when I had to be confined to the hospital and they needed to insert the IV thing on me. It sent me into the worst panic attack I’ve ever gotten and I ended up thrashing a lot and several people had to hold me down so that the nurse could stick the thing into my wrist.

Do you own and use an eyelash curler? No. Those make me cringe so bad...I hate how they get so close to the eyeball. Kate brought her makeup kit to school everyday and she always made me try to learn how to curl my own lashes, but it just made me feel so nauseated lol

Have you ever experienced backlash from others? A few times before.

Have you ever had whiplash before? Never.

ATH

Do you prefer a shower or a bath? Shower. Much more efficient. Baths are relaxing, but I don’t like how I end up bathing in what’s pretty much dirty water.

Have you ever given another person or an animal a bath before? I’ve only given Kimi a bath. I let my dad bathe Cooper since he’s too much of a handful for now, plus I think it’s fair if we bathe one dog each haha.

How good are you at math? I can answer advanced algebra, statistics, and geometry questions if you give me enough time to review and get reacquainted with the formulas, but I’m perfectly alright with no longer revisiting trigonometry and calculus for the rest of my life.

Do you feel like your life is on the right path? Career-wise it definitely is; I’m happy with the direction it’s going right now. Everything else seems so turbulent at the moment and I can’t say I’m happy.

Are there any bike paths or footpaths in your area? We have sidewalks, if they count.

Have you ever gone on the warpath before? Not really. I do get very angry with certain people if I think they’ve been behaving badly, but I rarely get confrontational.

Is there a birdbath in your yard? No, those aren’t common here at all. I’ve only seen those in cartoons, I think.

Have you ever had a footbath before? Nopes.

What’s the last thing you’ve had to deal with the aftermath of? I can think of one thing but it’s still pretty triggering so I don’t feel like bringing it up at the moment.

Have you ever witnessed a bloodbath? Thankfully I haven’t. I get so queasy when I see blood though; it’s so much better off this way because I wouldn’t be able to deal with one at all.

Are you a sociopath or a psychopath? Do you know anyone who might be? No lol. I don’t think I know of anyone who could possibly be either. I wouldn’t want to associate myself with one in the first place.

Who’s the last person that you faced the wrath of? Myself.

AMP

Do you have an instrument that you plug into an amp? Nope, I own 0 instruments.

When’s the last time you felt amped up? What was the reason? Thursday morning when I parked in front of the office I was gonna have my job interview in. I needed to hype myself up to feel confident so I spent a couple of minutes in the car pumping my chest and screaming and shit, lol

Have you ever gone to day camp or overnight sleepaway camp? No. My mom wouldn’t have allowed me as a kid.

When’s the last time you felt like a champ? It’s been a while. I haven’t exactly felt like I’ve been winning in anything.

Last time it was damp where you lived? This afternoon. It was really humid for a good few hours and then it ended up raining.

Weirdest place you’ve ever had a cramp? My index finger whenever I’d try to use chopsticks; and my toes when I hiked in Sagada. The toe cramps were so bizarre I was actually laughing-crying the whole time the tour guide was treating me; my dad was taking photos of me too loooooool

Do you refer to your grandfather as “Gramps”? No. I call both of them Lolo, which is our local version of Grandpa.

Have you ever worn a headlamp before? No, I’ve never really had to.

Do you have a ramp anywhere in your house? I don’t think so, no.

Has anyone ever called you “scamp” before? No.

How many lamps are in the room you’re in? How many are actually turned on? There is one lamp, and it is currently turned on.

Do you stamp your feet when you are angry? It doesn’t tend to be a behavior of mine, no.

Last time you used a postage stamp? Not sure...grade school, probably? I never used those a lot.

Are there streetlamps on your street? What time do they turn on? Yep. I don’t keep track of their schedule but a safe guess would be either 6 or 6:30 PM.

Last place/area that you wanted to revamp? My room.

Do you know anyone who is a tramp? No.

Have you seen Lady and the Tramp before? Not the full movie but I’ve seen a lot of excerpts from watching Magic English as a kid.

Do you know anyone with a “tramp stamp”? I don’t think so.

AWK/AULK/ALK

Is the squawk of certain birds annoying? Which ones? I’ve never found any of them annoying, but maybe that’s also because there aren’t a lot of different birds flying around where I live.

Do you prefer hawks or falcons? And…why? I don’t have a preference; I’ve never encountered either.

Has anyone ever watched you like a hawk before? That sounds a little creepy and I wouldn’t want to know if anyone has.

What was the last thing you used caulk on? I’m almost positive I’ve never handled that, haha.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#survey #surveys

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