#i wouldn't be done ridiculously early with my stuff but I was not a night-before kinda learner

[mer-acle]

Me: So how about we write the new ftbl chapter bc Friday is in like 1.5 days? Brain: Modern AU? Me: Fighting to be loved has an upload schedule. The modern AU doesn't even have a fic planned as of now. Brain: That fifth part of the the SltmF scene should also be written. Me: Again, upload schedule. Brain: Also remember the fanart we wanted to make? Me: Saturday is a thing. Brain: You have social obligations on Saturday. And Sunday. And Monday uni starts up so your life is basically over, yk? Me: Fuck. Also. If we're not gonna write we should do FtbL comments cos we have like 60 unanswered ones rn. Brain: I'm about to shut down and let you do nothing istg. Me: THAT'S BEEN ALL DAY SO FAR! Brain: BC I DON'T WANNA DO WHAT YOU WANT RN Me: AHHHHH Brain: AHHHHH

[timeoverload]

This weekend hasn't been very eventful. I spent all day Friday and yesterday just trying to feel better. It's a little ridiculous that I get that bad but I don't know what to do about it. I am tired of resting. I think my withdrawal symptoms are finally starting to go away and I think that was part of the reason I felt worse than usual. I am feeling pretty good today surprisingly.

I finally went to see my grandma earlier this afternoon. I feel shitty because it has taken me so long to get over there to see her. The past month has just been a nightmare for me physically and emotionally. I wasn't trying to be selfish but I wasn't in a good place to be too social either. I know she was trying to get moved too. I spent 3 hours over there and I'm going to try to go there more often. It is nice to spend time with someone that wants to see me and invites me over. Her new place is pretty cute and it isn't too far away. We just sat and talked. She seems very happy and is doing better than I thought. She did tell me she fell 2 days ago so I'm worried about her. She needs to have a caregiver because she refuses to go to a nursing home and I understand that. I don't want her to feel so alone all the time. I have been trying to call her more but I know that's not the same. It was nice to see her socializing with some other people when I left.

She is definitely living in a much better place now. She was telling me about how bad my aunt treated her. My aunt lived right down the street from my grandma before she moved back here. My aunt didn't go to visit her and was very mean to her when she had to help her with anything. She was abusive. She told my grandma that she wasn't coming back to see her because looking at her face made her sick. I don't know why she would say that to her own mother when she has done nothing but be kind and giving to everyone her entire life. My grandma moved on a day that my aunt had to work so she wouldn't know that she was leaving. I don't think my aunt has even noticed. She has something wrong with her mentally and I think she might have a condition similar to what my mom has. I don't think she is quite as bad because she can still function. Her daughters are also very rude and didn't show any emotion the last time I saw them. They wouldn't talk to us. I don't really have a good relationship with any of my cousins unfortunately but they all live far away now too. Anyway, I feel really bad that my grandma had to deal with my aunt treating her that way.

I hope that my brother and sister will go see her more often too because she needs more family in her life. I know my brother helped her unpack some of her stuff so that was nice of him. She really appreciates his help and enjoys spending time with him. I don't know if she has seen my sister yet. I think it would be good for my sister to spend more time with my grandma since she has never had a mother figure in her life and my mom set a horrible example.

I haven't heard anything from my mom. I am worried about her but there's nothing I can do. I wish she was nicer to me. I wish I could stop thinking about her.

I think I need to stop thinking about bad things. Unfortunately, my grandma likes to talk about a lot of negative topics so it brings me down sometimes. I am hoping that her mental health will improve if I spend more time with her and maybe she will have more positive things to say. She is just depressed and I understand. I know it would be good for me to continue to spend time with her so that I'm not so lonely either.

I need to focus on preparing myself for the week now I suppose. I haven't been eating very well this weekend and I have eaten a lot of ramen noodles. I stopped and got cheeseburgers and fries again on my way home so I'm full now. I could use a nap but it's too late for me to take one. I will probably just go to bed early. I think I am going to try to relax the rest of the night. I don't have much else to talk about. Hopefully this week isn't too busy. I am going to do my best to be in a good mood tomorrow.

I hope everyone else has a good week too!!! 💖💖💖

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

HELLO! i was wondering…can you do some daryl dixon jealous/possessive smut? like y/n gets hit on by someone and daryl gets all jealous & possessive!

THANK YOU

ps: i’ve never done a request before so v nervous x

༉‧₊˚. 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

�� pairings: daryl dixon x plus size!reader

― era: early season 5

― summary: daryl knew jealousy was ridiculous, but it was as if there wasn't anything he wouldn't do to you or for you.

― warnings: possessive!daryl, rough sex, finger fucking, vaginal fingering, edging, light degradation, daryl takes you from the back, teasing, some dude i made up being a creep, vaginal sex, ass slapping, marking, unprotected sex, breeding kink (don't be like them please), mushy feelings at the end cus i'm not a monster, just the reader and daryl being in love man :`]

― wc: 1867

⋆ a/n: hii anon, i'm so sorry this took so long to get out! my life has been crazy recently and here this finally is! i had lots of fun writing this and i did get carried away a bit but oh well :) there's no need to be nervous! Iidon't bite, you're always free to request again! i hope this lived up to your expectations and thank you so much! <3

masterlist | AO3

It wasn't often that Daryl had been able to keep things for himself; either that be when he was a kid where Merle would take his stuff, or when his mom and dad would, so when he finally had you, he wasn't going to let you go. It was as if all rationality disappeared from within him when something would happen to you, or if he had an off feeling someone that was interacted with you.

Being at Deana’s party was like a fever dream; there were people eating or drinking as much as they wanted, music, and people talking as if the world hadn't ended. You didn't feel very conversational, so it was all fake smiles and laughs, especially with this one guy that couldn't take no for an answer. He was talking to you as if he hadn't seen a woman like you in a while, eyeing you up and down, staring at your breasts that were pronounced due to the dress you were wearing, and annoyingly tight around your curves and large stomach.

Your hand twitched around your glass, the urge to punch him in his teeth becoming overwhelming. As he laid down what felt like the fiftieth pickup line of the night, you couldn't help but wonder where the fuck was Daryl at? He had promised you to make an appearance, but he had yet to show his face, and you were talking to this guy for longer than you had originally anticipated.

As if he had answered your prayers, he was there, sliding his hand over your waist and squeezing the fat of it.

“Baby, there you are! I was wondering where you were.” You said with a little bit too much enthusiasm. “Blake,” Was his name Blake? ”I would like you to meet my boyfriend!” Blake reached out to shake Daryl’s hand, but by the look on his face, he was making his annoyance for him very evident. “The name's Jake.” Ah, that's what it was. “Daryl.” Your boyfriend said curtly, squeezing Jake's hand a little bit too tight by the wince that he'd let out.

“We were jus’ leavin’.” Daryl said, tugging you closer to his body. “Ain’ that righ’?” You bit your lip to hide your shit eating grin at the fact that Daryl’s tucked you into his side, your bodies practically squished together. “That's right, hun. It was… nice to meet you, Jake.” Nice was the last word you would use to describe the last fourty-five minutes of being around him. You allowed Daryl to whisk you away outside where he remained deathly silent the whole way to your shared home. When you had gotten inside, he had you up against the door, hands placed on either side of your head as he hovered over you.

His whole aura was dark, his energy radiating nothing but possessiveness as he looked you straight in your eyes through the loose hair in his face.

“’You likin’ the attention?” He all but growled. You shivered, batting your eyelashes as you acted innocent. “I wouldn't say that. He was just.. something to keep me company.” You reached up a hand to stroke the side of his face. “No one does it like you do, baby.” He lowered his head so that his breath fanned over your lips, your back aching to arch into him and give him what was his.

“Damn righ’ they don't.” He finished off with a passionate kiss that stole your breath away. His hands fell to the side of your thighs as he forced your dress up, the material now sitting above your ass. Your panties were exposed, and Daryl didn't waste any time snatching those down too, your whole bottom half being left naked. You shivered as the air hit your heated skin, a moan escaping you and falling right onto Daryl’s tongue as his fingers traced your weeping slit.

“Only you can get me all worked up like this, D.” You whined. “Shut yer mouth.” And you did, allowing him to slip his middle finger into you as he leaned down to kiss you once more. You buried your hands in his hair, tugging at them everytime he hit that spongy spot inside of you. Slick dripped down your spread thighs, Daryl adding his ring finger as he roughly finger fucked you. Squelching and your moans were the only sound that breached the silence of the house. Daryl wasn't gentle, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm as his thumb harshly pressed on your clit.

You couldn't take it anymore as you grew closer to cumming, your head falling back onto the door with a light thump. Since your mouth had fallen open, all of your moans were spilling out of you, your legs shaking when Daryl bit down on the curve between your neck and your shoulder.

As you were on the edge of bliss, Daryl took his fingers out of you.

“Why?” Was all you could ask, your voice boiled down to a pathetic whimper. “Yah ain’ comin’ unless it's on my cock, you understand, girl?” He grabbed your jaw with the hand that that was just between your legs, you arousal smeared onto your cheeks. “Yes,” You breathed, “I understand.” He didn't loosen up his grip as he placed a kiss on your forehead sweetly.

You were tense the whole way up the stairs, the fact that Daryl was behind you and your ass was in slapping range, had you on edge. But alas, no slap was laid up on your ass as you made it to the room you shared. Quickly, you shed your dress, tossing the offending item onto the ground as you bra came next, falling out the cups of them with a pleasurable sigh coming from your lips as they did. Hearing Daryl closing the door behind him, you scrambled onto the bed, ass raised in the air, back arched, and your head resting on your forearms. You turned your head to watch him undress, biting your lip as you watched his muscles flex, his neck strained as he forced the layers off of his body.

Warmth flooded your insides at the sight. It was commonly known that Daryl was insecure about his body, about his past being painted all over his back. You knew there was a chance that this could potentially affect your sex life and it did, Daryl wearing one of his button up shirts with the sleeves cut off of them most of the time. It wasn't until one day that wearing a shirt got old; he needed you, he needed to feel you, needed to touch and caress and squeeze your body until there wasn't a part of you left untouched by him.

That night sex was was gentle, praising words falling into the heated night air of the prison as you worshipped every single scar, even the small ones. So, watching him totally give himself to you did something to your body, heating up even more as he made his way over to you.

“Daryl, please. Touch me.” He only grunted, his large palms and calloused palms caressing your ass. “Nah, ain’ goin’ta touch ya. Ya gotta work for it.” You whined in frustration, making eye contact with Daryl and trying your best with your best puppy dog eyed look. “Don’ do nun of that complainin’ shit or you won't get nothin’.”

He ran his cock up and down your slit before lightly tapping on your hole with it. You whimpered, shaking your hips enticingly as if to slip it in there yourself. He gripped both of your arms, holding you back by your wrists and he impaled you with his large cock. He went slowly, forcing you to feel the stretch against your gummy walls. You buried your face into the mattress, partly out of embarrassment, but in need. The feeling of the sheets kept you anchored to reality as he finally bottomed out inside of you with a deep groan.

Much to your displeasure, he really wasn't going to move. You pulled your hips forward before bouncing back onto him, a sharp crying ringing through your ears, but you didn't stop, determined to make you and him cum. You relished in the feelings, and Daryl’s heavenly sounds that just turned you on even more. Daryl let go of your wrists, allowing you to balance on your forearms as he pressed himself against your back, lips locking and sucking onto that special spot under your ear.

“You think he could’a made you feel like this?” He empathized the word ‘he’ with a thrust that shook your body, sending you up the mattress. “'Bet he wouldn't even know where to start. 'Bet he wouldn't know how’ta handle ya. Not like do.” His grip on your hips were tight, nails digging into your skin as he forced you back and forth onto his cock. He didn't stop talking as his breath hit the shell of your ear, Daryl clouding your short circuiting mind as he took over you mind, body, & soul.

“Yer my girl. My woman. My future wife. My everythin’ and I'll be damned if he think can take ya away from me.” He stilled his movements, keeping you full to the hilt as he pushed his full weight against you. “Yer mine, understand?” You head fell back onto his shoulder where he placed kisses and nips onto, your skin stinging deliciously.

“I understand, Daryl. God, all I want is you, forever. Please.” You whimpered, your walls clenching down onto his dick. He groaned into your neck. It seemed as though your words sparked something within him, something dark and uncontrolled, something completely and utterly possessive that would scare other people; but not you, no, you basked in it, the violent desire burned hot in your veins as he fucked you like a wild animal.

“Please, pleas— Ah!” A sharp slap landed itself onto your ass. The sounds coming from your room were sinful, nothing but your cries echoing off of the nicely painted walls were heard compared to the wet slapping of your butt meeting his hips.

You were going to cum, you could feel, and you know he could too.

“Ya gonna cum?” You nodded profusely, tears streaming down your cheeks as hair stuck to your forehead due to the sheer amount of sweat you were producing. “Mhm!” You pressed your lips together, but Daryl was having none of it. “'Lemme hear yer noises, or ya ain't cummin’ at all.” You screeched out a moan as you came, Daryl’s cock pulsing before painting your insides white, your womb feeling nice and full as you both made an attempt to catch your breaths.

“Holy fucking shit.” You swore. Daryl pulled out of you, sliding you both up the bed until you were cuddled into his side. “I wan't too rough, was I?” You shook your head as you laughed incredulously. “Are you kidding me, Dar? It was perfect.” You shoved your face into his shoulder, your fingertip mindlessly circling his areola.

“Did you mean what you said?” You asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Mhm.” He grunted. “Every word.”

[roosterbruiser]

[ PAINT ] while painting a room, sender starts a paint fight with receiver

Bradley and Faye??

Even with a record spinning, I know when Bradley comes home. If not because of the speed at which Buttercup darts down the stairs to greet him or the whining Marmalade starts up at her spot by the bedroom door, then because the bubble of excitement that expands my chest.

There's a record playing downstairs, volume maxed out so I can hear it from up here. So I can't hear his lug-sole boots or the ridiculous way he baby-talks Buttercup above the sound of Come On Eileen by Dexys Midnight Runners. But I know him well enough to call out up here! before he probably even has the chance to ask.

"Oh, Faye-baby, y'wearing all that just for me?"

Without even turning around, I know Bradley is leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and his cheeks flushed from his trek inside from the car. He's probably still in his flight suit, probably still hasn't even thought about showering, maybe even has his heavy tramp keychain in his clutches.

A grin eats my face; one accompanied by pink cheeks and little fluttering movements from my belly as olive stirs and settles. I think she already knows Bradley's voice and--just like me--gets excited by it alone.

"Ha-ha," I mock, not dignifying him by turning around to show him my flushed cheeks in the early evening sunlight peeking in through the window. "Wouldn't have to wear all of this if my husband would just take an evening to paint the nursery."

His footsteps echo in the nursery, the one I've almost finished painting a satiny juniper shade. He grazes his fingers carefully along the smooth dark wood of the crib, the one I watched him put together for the better part of a Saturday night.

"But if I did that, then how would I get to see you painting with no pants on?"

"I don't have paint pants that fit me right now," I explain, biting my lip and shaking my head. "Y'know, the magic of pregnancy and all that good stuff."

What a sight I really must be to him right now: severely pregnant in a pair of old striped underwear, the Steely Dan t-shirt paint-speckled and snot nearly long enough to cover the my bump or bum, hair thrown into a truly careless braid, golden retriever puppy curled up at the base of my stepladder, face naked and gleaming with a sea-kelp mask Bob sent when I told him how dry my t-zone had been since getting pregnant.

"Get down from there," Bradley says softly, hands suddenly anchoring to my hips. "Let me finish up, baby."

Finally, I turn and look at him. His eyes are soft, swimming with the sort of affection that makes my toes curl. And he's positively glowing in the sunlight streaming in from olive's still-naked windows. He's grinning something fierce, pulling me against his solid body, pressing his lips against my neck and nibbling gently.

"Almost done," I sigh, glancing all around the room, ignoring the paint drying on my fingers and forearms. But even as I'm saying this, I'm stepping off the ladder and leaning against Bradley, resting my head on his shoulder. "D'you like the color?"

Bradley's peppering kisses all along my neck and shoulders, hands resting firmly on my belly, nudging the skin there softly to encourage more movement from olive. She complies almost instantaneously, jerking and nestling.

"Uh huh," Bradley mumbles, pulling my hips against his. "Missed you today," he sighs.

I turn around and face him finally, softly petting Marmie and Buttercup's heads when they nuzzle themselves against my legs. Bradley holds me tight, smoothing his hand over my hair before pressing his lips to mine again and again.

"Just today?" I sigh into the kiss, softly nipping his bottom lip. He stiffens but then groans lowly, pulling me closer to him. "I'm offended."

He chuckles, nuzzling his nose against me. I'm warm all over just being this close to him. I never realize how cold I am during the day until he comes home and practically sets me on fire.

"Missed you extra today," he breathes, kissing me a few more times sloppily before lowering to his knees to kiss the exposed skin of my belly. "Missed you today, too, olive."

When he presses his cheek against my belly, I reach down to run my hands through his curls--screeching to a halt whenever I remember that my fingers are dipped in wet paint. But it is a moment too late--I have left a trail of juniper-colored paint through his sandy curls. He gasps instantly, the cold probably prickling his scalp.

"Oh," I whisper, shaking my head as Bradley freezes, lips stilling. "Oh, shit, I didn't mean to do that! Oh, baby, I'm sorry!" I really do mean it--I am sorry. But I can't help the giggles bursting through my lips.

Bradley looks up at me with his jaw squared, his hair mussed to his head now with paint.

"You did that on purpose," he accuses lowly, narrowing his eyes.

I shake my head, but I can't stop laughing. He's starting to grin now, a mischievous look brewing in his pretty eyes as he leans over and dips his hand into the partially-dried paint tray beside us.

"No, please, I didn't!" I defend, taking a few steps back, shaking my head wildly.

But I already know what is about to happen. He's nearing me with a grin, the girls starting to whine excitedly at his boots as I back myself up with my hands help up in surrender.

"You're gonna pay for it," Bradley says, gesturing to the ridiculous streak in his hair--God, I know the paint is going to be hard to wash out in the shower; it is thick and sticky. "C'mon, baby, take it."

"I'm carrying your child," I say helplessly, hips colliding with the crib as Bradley rapidly closes the distance between us. "Think of all the things I'm sacrificing to have your baby!"

But it isn't a moment after that when he finally meets me nose-to-nose, leaning forward and pressing his paint-soaked hand against the dome of my belly. He smears it all over my warm skin there and still has the audacity to press his lips to mine through my gasps. The paint is cold--and sticky.

"S'better," he mumbles into my parted lips with a grin. "We're even now, baby."

And then he just grins down at me--grins like there's really something to be grinning about when he's just dirtied my freshly-bathed skin and disturbed the expensive mask on my face and accosted me while I'm disadvantaged by my very pregnant state.

"You're right," I say, pouting. "Let's fix that."

Before he can even respond, before he can blink or breathe or wipe that smirk off his lips, I cup his face and effectively press a green handprint there. I even swipe my thumb along his mustache until it is thoroughly doused in juniper.

"Oh, green is your color," I whisper to him, nodding. "Suits your skin tone."

He doesn't even thin before he does it--he just reaches up and smooths his hand over my braid, coating it.

"What do you know?" He murmurs in amusement, wiping his mustache with the back of his hand. "S'your color, too, baby."

[julemmaes]

Honey - part one

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre roommates au

A/N: today I found a list of prompts that I just l o v e d and I decided to write an Elorcan short story cause I really really love them and I just don’t write them enough, so please enjoy this fluff turned mild angst and then again fluff I guess.

masterlist

Word count: 3,073

Elide would have loved to sleep. To be able to put on the soft plaid pyjamas that Lysandra had given her for her birthday only a few days before and slip under the warm covers - the General Psychology paper sitting in front of her as that black dash at the end of the sentence flashed was her only enemy at that moment.

She huffed, closing her eyes for a moment, enjoying the soft music coming out of the computer. She didn't know the song, because the playlist she was listening to had been sent to her by Lorcan and she hadn't had time to scroll through the song titles to memorize the ones she liked best. She couldn't even hear the words, just the soothing melody, but she could guess that it was a love song.

After all, every playlist Lorcan made for her to study with consisted mainly of sappy, romantic songs. Quite the opposite from what Lorcan himself represented, with his trademark grumpy, pissed-off attitude.

She giggled wearily, sliding even lower into the pillows as she thought about what their friends would say if they found out that her roommate looked for chill, love songs in his spare time just to help her out.

Elide never had too much time on her hands, always busy between university and the two jobs she worked to support herself, and when she could actually relax she never thought about finding new music, it was far too much work and tiring. But Lorcan wasn't studying and the shifts at the toy shop or the animal shelter were very often lonely and quiet, so he had time to listen to music for hours on end without anyone interrupting him. Only later, when he would have free time and nothing to do but play video games with Aelin and Rowan, would he get on the computer and create yet another playlist with the songs he thought she would like the most.

She was about to fall asleep when she heard Lorcan's scream and several alarms going off all over the neighborhood.

"No, fuck!"

She snapped her eyes open as she sat up and was surprised to find the room shrouded in darkness, the only source of light coming from her computer. She frowned, reaching for the switch and trying to turn the light on and off. Nothing.

She closed her eyes again, banging her head against the headboard.

This was the third blackout in a week. She couldn't take any more. And she could only hope that the alarms would all be turned off within the hour, because the last time, the building next door had taken over three hours to turn off the last one, causing everyone to lose hours of sleep in the middle of the night. She was just waiting for the dogs' barking to start as well.

Her plan to go to sleep early dissolved like candyfloss in water.

"Lorcan? Everything okay?" she said loud enough for the boy to hear. When no answer came she shook her head, huffing.

Elide looked for the phone among the blankets so she could turn on the torch, but she couldn't find it anywhere. She placed the computer on the floor, getting out of bed and paying attention to where she put her feet, "Where the fuck did I leave it?" she muttered to herself, moving the stuff she had on her desk over to the chair. It wasn't even there. She looked down at the bed again and then touched the pockets of the jeans she'd promised herself she wouldn't take off until she was done studying - nada.

She was about to leave the room when the door jerked open, "Ellie?" the computer screen was pointing too low for it to give enough light for Lorcan to see her, "Are you asleep?"

"Nop," she said from across the room, "I can't find my phone."

Lorcan sighed, "Mine's dead."

"Shit." she cursed, she wasn't a fan of the dark, "Do you remember where we put the candles last time?" she asked walking tentatively towards the doorway.

Suddenly, the music stopped and the computer made the worst sound it could have made at that moment, shutting down for good. She didn't worry about the paper that she had to finish, she knew it would be there once she turned it back on.

"I can't believe it," Lorcan muttered. They were plunged into darkness. "Can you make it over here without killing yourself?"

Elide was trying not to panic. She knew there was nothing in the dark, but that stupid childish fear had never really left her and her heart was beating wildly in her chest. It wasn't anything crippling, but it certainly wasn't a pleasant feeling.

She nodded, realizing then that Lorcan couldn't see her, "Yeah, wait."

"Take my hand."

Elide walked with her arms outstretched forward, moving them to avoid hitting the wardrobe or dresser she kept near the door, but her strategy didn't seem to work as she slammed her side into the latter and knocked half the stuff on it to the floor.

She grunted in pain, bringing both hands to the sore spot, "For fuck's sake."

She heard Lorcan chuckle, "What did you hit?"

"I think the dresser," she whined, then raised her head, as if she could see him, "Where are you?"

He snorted, "I'll try to get there. Stay right where you are."

"Where do you want me to go." Elide frowned, speaking so softly that even she struggled to hear herself over all those alarms. Another chuckle was soon broken by a growl of pain, followed by a series of very colourful swear words that made the girl burst out laughing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," continued Lorcan, who, by the sound of the various thumps, was probably hopping on one foot, "I think I stepped on one of your stupid earrings."

"Oh, god," Elide wheezed, more out of exasperation than anything else, "pray you didn't break it because I might kill you."

"It's already taken care of that. We'd only be even if I broke it," he said, cursing as he put his foot back on the ground, "Just stand there and I'll try to pick everything up."

Elide couldn't keep the smile off her lips, "I'll help you."

They hadn't realised how close they actually were, because the second she lowered herself to kneel on the ground, her head slammed into something very hard. She grunted in pain again, bringing her hands to her forehead, but burst out laughing soon after. The situation was getting ridiculous.

"Christ, Elide, are you alright? Please tell me that wasn't your head." asked Lorcan immediately, stretching his hands forward.

Elide didn't know what he had wanted to do, probably make sure her head was still in one piece, but what his hands touched certainly wasn't her head. The laughter died in her throat with a broken sound and before Lorcan realised he was palming her, several moments passed. When he too seemed to come to realisation, he let out a squeak and immediately moved his hands away.

Lorcan squeaked.

"Did you just touch my tits?" asked Elide in a whisper. At the sound Lorcan made, Elide's entire body was covered in shivers.

He cleared his throat, "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay." she grinned. Elide managed to sympathize with the darkness in that moment, almost thanking it for hiding what was sure to be the reddest face Lorcan would ever see.

"Are you okay?" he asked her again, "Sorry I didn't mean to knee you in the forehead."

"I think I might have a concussion," she said, deciding to fuck with him.

"Ha ha," he huffed, "very funny."

Elide imagined him frowning more and more, then sighed, "Okay come on, let's go find these damn candles." she pulled herself upright, one hand on her head and the other on her hip, then muttered, "And tomorrow we're going to go buy a supply of electric torches."

She heard him chuckle, "Can you follow me or do I have to hold your hand?"

Without a second thought, she reached out a hand towards where she thought his would be. Only her fingers didn't meet bare skin, but the fabric of Lorcan's sweatpants, who with a surprised yelp took a few steps backwards, "What's that? Are you trying to even the score?" he said amused.

"Please tell me it was anything but your-" the words died in her mouth. She would have rather died and groaned, bringing her hands to her face when he burst out laughing.

"If you wanted to touch all you had to do was ask, babe," he teased.

"Fuck, knock it off," she said throwing a hand forward, at a safe height, and hitting him in the chest with her fist.

He grunted, but grabbed her wrist, finally intertwining his fingers with hers, "Was that so hard?"

She said nothing, but dug her nails into his flesh and that was enough.

She dragged her feet on the floor so she wouldn't risk sticking earrings or anything else in the soles of her feet and when they were finally in the hallway, she didn't worry about where to walk because she was simply following Lorcan. The warmth of his hand clasped in hers was reassuring her greatly.

"How long do you think this will last?" she asked once they reached the kitchen.

"I honestly have no idea," he said. Elide heard the light switch being turned on and then a faint, "Ah, yeah." coming from him.

She giggled, then brought her hand to her mouth as she yawned, "I just wish I could sleep."

"Rough day?" asked Lorcan, opening the hand that was gripping hers. It took her a while to realize that he was silently asking her to let him go. She felt herself flush again for not realizing it right away, and with deep chagrin she pulled her fingers away one by one, immediately missing him.

She nodded, flinching when one of the alarms changed pace, becoming louder and more insistent. She sighed, knowing they were doomed to at least another hour like that, "Classes this morning were boring as hell, but they were important so I spent six hours on books and there was no one at the café this afternoon, which means not getting too tired and not running after every order, but it also means-"

"-no tips. Yes, I know," Lorcan finished for her. She could feel him opening drawers and rummaging through items looking for anything candle-shaped.

"Your day?" she asked, yawning once more.

She heard Lorcan halt, "God, you're exhausted." she didn't answer, so he continued, "Nothing much. They came to adopt one of the newcomers this afternoon though, and I'm pretty positive that family is perfect for that pup."

Elide could hear the smile in his voice.

Lorcan might have seemed like a mean person on the surface, callous. And indeed he was a bit of a jerk if you weren't one of the people he 'put up with', as he always said, but anyone who really knew him could confirm that he was one of the most loyal and trustworthy people ever.

The fact that he worked at an animal shelter and cared about the families to whom the puppies were entrusted or at a toy shop where Elide had often seen him help multiple parents choose the perfect gift were just two of the examples that could be given to prove such a point.

"Good," she murmured.

"Ro's going to kill me," he complained, "We were playing against a bunch of kids online and now they're going to think I quit because we suck."

Elide grinned, "But you guys do suck."

The shuffling sound stopped again, "Say that again. I dare you."

She chuckled, moving a chair and sitting down. She yawned for the third time and furrowed her brow. She didn't like yawning.

"Ellie, what the fuck," Lorcan huffed in disbelief, "help me instead of just sitting there."

She groaned, "You kneed me and I'm dead tired, I have every right to do nothing," she justified herself, "Besides, the light will be back on in a few minutes. Chill out."

"Chill out." he mimicked her voice. Then he cheered, making her gasp, "Found it!"

"Good luck finding the lighter." she whispered, crossing her arms over the table and resting her head on them.

He whistled, "How nice we are tonight," then he closed the drawers slamming them shut one by one and Elide wanted to punch him again for all the noise, "But it doesn't touch me, because it's in my pocket." and then a flame lit up the room just enough for Elide to see his face.

She scowled, "Why do you have a lighter in your pocket?"

The victorious, sly expression Lorcan had had fell away so quickly that for a second Elide thought something had happened or he'd been burned.

She was almost afraid to ask, "Have you started smoking again?"

"No." he answered too quickly.

Elide stood up, throwing her arms in the air, "Lorcan!" she opened her eyes wide, "You quit over three months ago."

He grimaced, "Not really." he spoke so softly she almost didn't hear him.

Her frown deepened, "What do you mean, 'not really'? You're such a dick," she mumbled, shaking her head.

In the meantime he had lit more candles and was arranging them on the kitchen counter, but when he spoke he looked at Elide and she saw that he was holding back from insulting her in turn. "I'm not a dick, I simply didn't tell you that I had resumed..." he trailed off, then huffed, "two weeks after I quit."

Elide opened her mouth wide, "Two we-" then exploded, "Lorcan, it's bad for you.  B-a-d." she spelled, drawing the letters in the air with her finger, "Do you understand that if you keep smoking your lungs will turn so black they'll look like ash?"

Lorcan clenched his jaw, "I know, thanks for reminding me."

Elide crossed her arms over her chest, speaking in a strained tone, "Why did you start again? Why didn't you tell me?"

He turned his back to her at that, with the excuse of arranging the candles around the kitchen better, but Elide knew it was because he didn't want to look at her face. He didn't answer.

"Where are they?"

"What?"

"The cigarettes. The packet? Where is it?" she demanded to know, walking up to him.

Lorcan turned, taking a step back when he realised she was less than a metre away from him. He frowned, "I'm not telling you."

Elide's eyes went wide, "Why?"

"Because you'd snap them all," he said in an obvious tone.

She nodded vehemently, "Yes, exactly!"

Then he sighed, "Can we just let it go?"

"Sure, if you want to let it go that you're going to die of cancer and that you've been lying to me the whole time, we can let it go," she said, biting her bottom lip and shaking her head. Then she huffed out a laugh, "You're unbelievable."

"Ellie, listen, I'm not smoking as much as I used to, we're talking about one to two cigarettes a day at most," he tried to reassure her, running a hand through his hair. She could hear it in his tone of voice that he felt guilty and embarrassed, whether it was because he had lied to her or because she had found out she couldn't tell.

With a little more light brightening up the room, Elide realised only then that he was shirtless.

Fuck, she thought. Lorcan with his shirt off was a feast for the eyes.

She quickly shifted her gaze to the floor as the light returned in a flash and she was forced to close her over-sensitive eyes. They heard the tv turn on again and the melody of the video game fill the silence.

"Thank fuck." Lorcan muttered as almost all the alarms went off. Now only the few that had to be turned off manually and the dogs continued their assault on their ears.

When Elide opened her eyes again, she cursed. There was blood on the tiles. She leaned forward, looking down at the crotch of her jeans to make sure it wasn't hers, even though she knew she wasn't on her period. "Lorcan?" she asked hesitantly, then turned her head towards him, not moving her gaze from the floor, "I think you're bleeding."

"What? Oh fuck." he chuckled. Elide looked up at him at that point and saw him leaning on the table with one hand and placing the ankle of his right foot on his left knee. He looked up at her, "Your earring stabbed me."

A laugh bubbled out of her, "I'm sorry."

Lorcan looked into her eyes and his shone, "Don't worry, I'll clean it up."

"I'll help if you want." she offered, then yawned and cursed in the middle of it.

He snorted, one corner of his mouth curled up, "Nah, go to bed. I'll take care of it."

Then she let go a whine, "Oh my god my room is going to look like a crime scene if you managed to get blood in here too."

Lorcan smiled tightly, "I'll take care of that too."

Elide nodded, admiring her friend's bare torso and arms one last time.

If Lorcan noticed, he didn't show it, and Elide was grateful for that moment of discretion, they'd had enough of awkward moments for that evening.

Warning him that she was going to bed, she went into the bathroom, undressing very slowly and slipping into her soft pyjamas. When she returned to her room, she noticed a wet spot on the floor and smiled, realising that he had started cleaning from her bedroom. She shouted a simple "goodnight" to him and without waiting for an answer slipped under the covers, ready for a deep and well-deserved night's sleep.

Just a second before she could fall asleep, the door opened slightly and she heard what could only be Lorcan place something on her bedside table. She couldn't open her eyes or bring herself to talk in that moment to ask him what the hell he was doing, but when she woke up the next morning, two packets of cigarettes and the lighter he'd used the night before sat there.

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@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @ladywitchling @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @anne-reads @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @simping4bookboisngrls @thewayshedreamed 

[turnscote]

An AU where Luke was telling the truth about why he left and actually kept in touch with you.

Pair: Luke/MC Rating: G Word count: 1310 Synopsis: As much as you wanted to believe that nothing was going to change, it was inevitable. There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.

Also on AO3.

It was perhaps late spring or early summer. You could remember how your nose was mildly itchy from the pollen as you found him sitting by the windowsill yet again. The breeze had felt warm, and the trees outside were rustling. It was supposed to be just like any other day until you heard the news that Luke will be moving away. In a week, nonetheless. It was surprising, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. Luke has always been a genius. You often teased him for being a nerd (affectionately, of course, to which he'd respond with a pout, and, oh, of course, you just had to pinch his cheek). Why wouldn't the National Central University, the country's top university, want him?

Promises were made. You're free to read Luke's Sherlock Holmes collection that he left at his parents' house. You'd call. You'd keep each other updated, about your lives, about your reading progress on his books, about all the food the capital has to offer. His moving away isn't going to change anything. You'd take good care of yourselves, even without having the other around, even without Luke chasing off any geese who would harass you, even without you apologizing to the grumpy neighborhood grandpa for the ruckus Luke had made. You two were going to be just fine. Right?

As much as you wanted to believe that nothing was going to change, it was inevitable. There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact. You know that. You sighed and closed Luke's copy of The Boscombe Valley Mystery. Ever since the age of five, Luke's presence has always been a constant in your life. Now you're left anxiously waiting for him to call.

Luke had told you earlier this morning that he'd be rather busy today, what with all the classes he got, and he's not even done with settling in. Despite his tight schedule, he still managed to take the time to text you several times throughout the day. Luke sent a picture of the egg sandwich he had for lunch. Apparently, he was in a rush in between classes, and the meal from the convenience store was all he could manage. He then complained about how it wasn't enough for him, how he regretted not getting more.

He promised he'd call once he's done with one of his assignments. You weren't expecting it to take this long. It was past 10 already. You had finished your homework hours ago, and that's why you're left in the state you are now. Laying in bed, The Boscombe Valley Mystery still sitting on your chest because you couldn't be bothered to get up and put it away. Is college that much harder? Luke must have been exhausted by now. Not wanting to keep him up just so that you could talk to him, you decided to text him to wish him luck on his work and that you two can just call some other time when he's less busy. You considered adding a cute sticker of a bunny with pom-poms but decided against it. You're a high school student now. Using stickers seems kind of childish and silly, doesn't it?

You finally got up, put the book away, and went to the bathroom to wash up before bed. By the time you came back, you notice your phone screen lighting up, informing you of a missed call from Luke. You hurriedly dialled him back. Within two rings, you finally heard his voice.

"Hey." There wasn't much energy to his voice. "Did I keep my Watson waiting?"

As odd as it may be, despite you never going anywhere and staying in Stellis, hearing Luke's voice made you feel like you're finally home once again.

"You're busy, Luke. I understand. You could have gone to bed right away, you know?" It really wasn't a big deal. Sure, you missed him, but you'd rather have Luke be well-rested.

"Oh, uh, well," you could hear a nervous chuckle from the other end of the line. "I'm not done with work yet, actually. It's much harder than I had anticipated." A pause. "I just wanted to make sure I could hear how your day was before you go to bed," his voice softened.

You let out a long sigh. Luke putting yourself over his own wellbeing. That's one thing that hasn't changed, huh? You couldn't admit that you thought that he was being very sweet and that you're honestly happy about it. You can't enable this behavior of his, can you? He seriously needs to put himself first.

"Okay, we'll make this quick then. You really need to take better care of yourself, Luke. Make sure you get enough rest."

"Alright, alright, I get it."

This is how it's always been. You two worrying and nagging each other, to the point that it may seem overbearing.

"So, the braised pork granny made for lunch, we still got plenty of leftovers left, so we also had that for dinner." You could hear Luke groaning in jealousy. Granny's braised pork was great. "I also read a bit of The Boscombe Valley Mystery."

"Oh! How are you liking it so far?" Luke clearly perked up at that.

"I haven't gotten very far yet, but I'm curious to see how they're going to prove James' innocence. All the evidence seems to be pointing at him right now."

A hearty laugh. Oh, how you love the sound of it. "You'll soon see, my dear Watson."

It's Luke's voice. It's clear it's Luke's voice. You'd recognize his voice anywhere. It's just, it doesn't sound the same over phone calls. Obviously, there's the slight noise, it's not a bother, but you do miss how clear his voice sounds in person. There's also the fact that his voice doesn't sound as deep, but that's fine, this is fine, it can't be helped. You're just glad you could still hear his voice to begin with. You're glad he'd make time for you instead of making you feel like you're left behind.

"How about you, Luke?" you asked. "What are you working on?"

"Oh, it's just some stuff on engineering chemistry. I also had to review some stuff for my engineering physics class tomorrow."

Science has never been your best subject, so when Luke explained further all the things he had to do, you were honestly feeling a bit lost. You loved hearing him talk about it so giddily, though. It reminds you of all the times when you'd have a nightmare disrupt your sleep and Luke would come over to your room and tell you the lamest science facts to distract you and get you back to sleep.

Luke seems to have noticed your quieter yeahs and mms to his stories. "Hey, you should sleep." You couldn't see it, but you got his gentle smile perfectly imprinted in your mind. That's probably how he looks right now.

"Sure, but," normally you'd be too embarrassed to ask for something like this. But you're too sleepy and you can't think straight so you went ahead with it, "Is it okay if we stay on the phone like this?"

It took a while for Luke to respond, but he finally said, "What do you mean?" as if in disbelief of what you're asking of him. That's fair. It is a ridiculous request, after all. It almost makes you want to take back what you just said. Almost. It must be all the K-drama you've been watching.

"You can get back to work, and I can go sleep, we just leave the call on."

"Alright," Luke said. "We can do that."

As you settled in bed, you could hear him tenderly say, "Good night, my dearest Watson."

This is nice too, you thought. Things aren't the same, but you two are going to be just fine.

[theradioghost]

Can you talk more about the history of the language and storytelling techniques/conventions of audio dramas? That's an incredibly intriguing concept but I wouldn't have the first idea where to look for more info about it. It reminds me a lot of the idea of video game literacy and how a lot of games aren't accessible to people who are brand new to video games because there are so many established conventions that aren't explained to new players

It has taken me nearly a month to reply to this, which I know is in reply to this post, and I am sorry for that! But also, yes!!!!! Hell yes, yes, I see exactly what you mean about the video game stuff.

Unfortunately I think there’s not much out there already written about the developing conventions of the new wave of audio drama. In large part, I think, because coverage of new audio fiction from outside the community has been so notoriously poor. But maybe also partly because there seems to be a strangely negative take on classic radio drama from a lot of the US sector within that community? Which I think really comes down to exactly the things I was talking about -- Old radio drama feels wrong to a lot of people now, because its storytelling language just doesn’t exist in our culture the way it once did; and even fewer people are familiar with late-20th-century American audio fiction like ZBS that might feel more comfortable or closer to other present-day mass media storytelling techniques. I see it claimed sometimes that there’s something inherently unsophisticated about old time radio storytelling, which is just flat out untrue, and I would highly encourage anyone who’s wondering to check out something like the “Home Surgery” episode of Gunsmoke or “The Thing on the Fourble Board” from Quiet, Please to see just how effective and well-done a lot of those old shows were.

(Leaving the UK out of this, because audio fiction stayed way more prominent there and I do not think the same problems exist, and leaving everywhere else out because unfortunately I just don’t know enough about how the medium fared elsewhere, or how it’s doing now. Alas.)

I’ve been thinking lately about parallels to this in other media that I have been able to study and read other people’s writing on, and I think a good comparison is possibly novels? The western “novel” as we think of it is really something that didn’t exist at all until about the 18th century (there are earlier works that have been kind of retroactively labeled ‘novels,’ some of them centuries earlier, but even if they have the characteristics of what we now call a novel, they’re very much disconnected from the evolution of the novel as something we have a name and a definition for). There are no novels from the medieval period, from the Renaissance. There are books as long as novels, but they’re not novels.

The thing is, when you read 18th and even 19th century novels, it shows, because the techniques for telling a story in that form hadn’t been really figured out yet. What you get is a lot of meandering, episodic doorstoppers, some of which have hundreds of pages before the main characters even enter the picture. A lot of writers at the time, and into the 19th century, actually hated the whole concept of novels. I think it’s a bit like going back and watching Monsters, Inc. and then watching Monsters University. The first one was revolutionary, yeah, and it’s a good movie still, but it’s not hard to see the visual difference between the two just in terms of the tools that the people making them had available to them. Before you can write a story or animate hundreds of thousands of individual hairs on one character, you have to figure out how.

One of the big, obvious things about novels from that period, though, is that many of them are first-person, and many are epistolary. It’s hard to find one that isn’t supposedly a memoir or a journal or a set of letters. The third-person perspective in long-form prose was something that had to be figured out; it didn’t just exist in the void, automatically summoned into existence the moment we started writing novels, which I think is really fascinating. There’s a lot of work in those early novels that’s being put into explaining why, and how, and to whom the story is being told. Because otherwise, how does it make sense that the book exists? It’s not a poem, or a play; it’s not taking the form of a traditional story or myth, not attempting to be an epic. Those early novels were about contemporary, real-seeming people, so the writers and audiences wanted an explanation for how the story had been recorded that relied on other existing forms of writing -- letters, journals, memoirs, sometimes claiming to be older texts that had been “found” (gothic novelists seemed to like this one). Sometimes the narrative voice is just the author using first person to actively tell you the story. They hadn’t yet bought into the presumption that we take for granted now, that a novel can have a voice that knows everything, without being the voice of any character in it.

And I think that it’s fascinating how similar that is to the heavy use of recording media as frame narrative in modern audio drama. It’s worth noting: classic radio drama doesn’t do this like we do now. By far, the standard for OTR is the same as the third-person omniscient perspective, the film camera; the storytelling presumes that you’re not going to need an explanation for how you’re hearing this. The audiences those shows were made for were used to fiction told solely in audio, in a way that a lot of modern audiences are not, and so that narrative leap of faith was kind of inherently presumed.

There’s also a way more common use of omniscient or internal narration in old radio drama that I feel like I mostly see now only in shows that are deliberately calling back to old styles and genres. A good example is The Penumbra; we hear Juno’s internal thoughts, just like so many of the noir-style detectives from the 40s and 50s I grew up listening to, and we never really ask why or how. (Except, of course, when the show pokes fun at this affectation, which I think really only works because it feels more like lampshading the stock character tropes of noir, as opposed to the actual audio storytelling technique it facilitates.) To take it further, there are some old radio shows like the sitcom Our Miss Brooks which go so far as to use an actual omniscient narrator to facilitate a lot of the scene transitions, but do so in a much more confident and comfortable way than modern shows like Bubble, where the narration reeks of “we’re making this audio drama in the hopes we can finally make the TV show, and we actually hate this medium and don’t know how to work in it, so rather than learning how to make what’s happening clear with just audio, we’re going to tell you what’s happening and then reference that we’re just telling you what’s happening.”

Bubble’s narration doesn’t work, because it’s actively pushing against the show, telling you things that sound design could have told you just as easily, sometimes actively acknowledging that the narration feels wrong instead of just not using narration. Our Miss Brooks is admittedly not one of my favorite old radio shows, but its use of narration is much smoother, because it’s written with a confidence that it’s only being used to clarify the the things that would be the absolute hardest to show with audio alone; confidence that they know how to tell everything else with sound. Internal narration from the likes of Juno Steel or Jack St. James or my favorite classic detective Johnny Dollar works because noir as a genre is inherently tied to the expressionist movement, where the (highly idiosyncratic) personality and worldview of the characters literally shapes how the world around them appears to the audience; it works to hear their thoughts, because we’re seeing the world through their eyes. We don’t have to know how they’re saying this to us, they just are.

None of which is at all to say that there’s anything inherently wrong with using framing devices! Actually the opposite, kind of. First of all, because I genuinely do think that it’s a sign that we are actively, at this moment learning how to tell these stories, and how to listen to them, which is just so, so exciting I don’t even have words to express it. And secondly, because as a person who loves thinking about stories and storytelling enough to write this kind of ridiculous essay, I am obsessed with metafiction. I’m a sucker for the likes of Archive 81, The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale, Station to Station, Greater Boston, Within the Wires. They’re stories that take the questions that framing devices are used to answer for writers and audiences who don’t feel comfortable not asking them -- Why is this story being told? Who is telling it? Who is it being told to? -- and use those questions to the full advantage of the story, exploring character, creating beautifully effective horror, creating a bond with the listener. (Hell, one of the admittedly many things that Midnight Radio was about for me was exploring how much value and comfort I have found in listening to stories that acknowledged I was listening to them.) I think, though, that not all stories necessarily are their best selves when they feel like they have to address those questions, and as fiction podcasts become a bit more mainstream I’m really hoping that writers will feel more comfortable in trusting the audience to suspend that disbelief, and that audiences will feel more comfortable doing it, and that framing devices will be less unjustly maligned.

Of course, all of that is focused on writing techniques, and I think that’s because I’m a writer who has studied writing! I know very little concretely about the part of audio storytelling that relies on sound design, so while I have a definite feeling that classic and modern audio fiction is using different sound design languages, or that the audio language of British audio drama (where there’s much more continuity in the history of the medium) is different from audio fiction from elsewhere, that’s a lot harder for me to put into words like this. It’s something I would desperately love to see explored by someone who did know that field intimately, though.

[sunareii]

WC; 1, 512

suna could only frown deeply at the seemingly bigoted old fart infront of him who continues to create one of the last thing he wanted; a ruckus, and just by the market of all places

he would have shut the man up if he didn't keep cutting off every phrase he has to say. suna is never the yell-type of person if ever in the argument, he thinks shouting at them or throwing a fit will only please them as it could be the reaction some people wanted to see and he's not surely the person to give in.

you're probably confused by this so let me give you a little flashback;

the sun had rose high enough that it wouldn't be called sunrise anymore and yet the two of them, suna and some mysterious girl around his age, proceeds to gaze deeply into each others eyes. if you didn't knew better you'd say it was love at first sight but considering the looks on their faces, i'd say they were judging each other

is the bird nest hair a thing?'

'are those scratches?'

'is she even wearing a bra underneath?'

suna deadpanned at her for a moment before turning his back to her an walked away. he got home momentarily, if you ask me he likely walked to the right directions by chance and suna himself, was also surprised by this involuntary achievement

"oh, rin! great timing, senzo was just about to go to the market just around the street, why don't you go along with him?" suna knew his mother won't give him a choice, don't you just hate it when you're being forced to get to know someone without your approval

anyhow, senzo was already waiting outside the house whereas suna hadn't had the chance to even take off his shoes. they strode on the concrete ground at the side of the street uncomfortably quiet, senzo took on a brave face and opted to have a small talk despite him not being a fan of bootless pleasantries

"so rintarou.. what-what do you like to do for fun?" he asked, stuttering within his sentence, suna stared at him for a second,

'what i like to do for fun? as in with friends or by myself?'

"i like playing volleyball" suna muttered, not that satisfied with his answer, "oh, that explains your great physique then, you like playing sports" senzo whispered feeling a bit fretful, suna examined his body figure and one thing he noticed about them when he saw him was his scrawny structure, lanky unlike him.

"how about you?"

"huh?"

"what do you like to do?"

'he seems to be the type to just play games, explore the media or probably a chess master'

"i like.. uhm.. wa.. ve.. and.. s-swing" senzo murmured as if he was only talking to himself, clearly shamefaced. suna tried to be attentive as he didn't heard him right and thought of anything that sounds like wave or swing..

'swing in the playground maybe? no, swing, swing.. sing?that could be it but what about wave? save? behave? ew, who does that for fun? shave...?'

"you like to sing?" he asked mindlessly, senzo could only stummer and said "what no.. my voice is too shaky for that, i like sewing and weaving.." suna didn't noticed it but senzo tried to sound nonchalant when he told him about his hobbies

'uhh.. is he a grandma?'

"i like all sorts of stuff actually along with photography and gardening, i guess" at that point, senzo couldn't find himself to look at him in the eye and his fathers voice lingers in his head saying;

'always look at people in the eye when talking to them!'

"we're here" senzo informed, it wasn't crowded seeing as it was early in the morning, "you go get the vegetables, we usually buy them from mr. maro it's the one beside the under construction ramen shop just go straight ahead" suna nodded taking the list of things he needs to buy along with the money to pay for it.

senzo took off the right side where the wet market lies, suna was delighted enough that senzo took that part, suna bit his lips harshly as he recollect the time he slipped infront of everyone the last time he went to one and his mother never seems to let him down for it.

later after walking away to go to this mr.maro's shop, he begun to think he had walked past it considering how long he had been walking, he thought deeply if senzo ever said anything about turning anywhere, he eventually reached the other side of the market, he groaned why did he had to find mr. maro when he could just buy from the shop he passed through earlier, that's when he saw the unfinished ramen shop beside him and right next to it was a bunch of greens laid and ready to buy.

except nobody was there he tried calling out but seems no one heard him. he leaned in a light pole just infront of it and rested for a bit,

"hey you!"

"hey!"

"don't ignore me kid!"

suna snapped out of his thoughts and found himself being yelled at from the man who walked speedily towards him, "so it's you!"

suna was beyond confused, was he talking to him? most likely

"you're the one who did this didn't you!" the man had finally reached him and pointed at the car just behind the pole he was leaning on, the car had a big scrape on it

"you're the one who keyed this didn't you! do you think this is funny!?"

'what's funny is humiliating yourself from accusing an innocent person such as me. i don't even have a key'

"i didn't—"

"you'll have to pay for the damage you have done!"

"i didn't even touch—"

"do you know how expensive this car is?"

and that's where our little trip to the past ends, on the present time suna is still in a problematic situation, most of the time he wouldn't let himself get into a tight spot and he seemed to avoid many of those from the twins back at hyogo but of course there's time where the two brothers get the best of him, usually just gets him involve into ridiculous escapades of atsumu and his spitting image or the other way around,

'who was the older miya again?'

"you teenagers are irreverent nowadays, your face says it all!"

"..."

"..."

suna deadpans at the older man infront of him, opening his mouth to finally speak only for the elderly to  cover his words with his owns once more

".. you know for someone-"

"mr. hiroto!"

a voice intervened, a feminine voice to say "daisuke's not even here and what you said your annoying neighbors already moved out, so why do you still wake up at the wrong side of the bed?"

at the shop, the exact shop, the reason he's even there in the first place, there she stood. the same girl from the summit, sunas eyes fixated at her form, her hair better than ever though tired eyes stared back at him briefly, before turning her face at the man who stood discontentedly

"for the last time it's makoto!" mr. hiroto err.. makoto corrected

'he's childish than atsumu' suna mentally snorted at makoto's evident childlike temper

"this guy keyed my car, what kind of reaction were you expecting?"

"your car already had a scratch the night before when i last saw it" she noted holding a figer up whilst taking steps towards them, "this won't take long" she whispers at suna who looked rather puzzled then he already is

"but—"

"this is not up for debate sir, the peacekeeping officers are already here to pick you up" she hushed, the one-sided squabble had come to a close, much to suna's delight and old geezers dismay, she looks at him curiously, not even trying to hide the fact that she's staring at him so intently

suna couldn't figure out what to say and only thank her for the much needed help though he is upset at his ability to handle nonsensical people like the man, speaking of oldie...

"mr. makoto! you again, this is the third time this week!"

suna's head shot up to their direction whereas makoto's having a chat with the officer which apparently another time he's been reported for his disturbance

'so he's a daily reported infernal guy, huh.. '

"hey, sorry about that" the lass who's before him apologized, leading suna having a questionable look "i don't think you have to apologize" she chuckles awkwardly, rubbing her nape uneasily "right.. of course"

without noticing, she already went ahead and fixed her station, suna bought everything he needed rather noiselessly as if they have forgotten they encountered each other on the eve of the sunrise

senzo hironori

height ;  6'1"

weight ; 59 kg

birthday ; december 28, 1994

favorite food ; crepes

current concern ; many of his classmates had laughed at his  'girly' hobbies

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[v-hope]

Driving with them

Pairings: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Fluff, crack

Request: "I am obsessed with your writing! Really is fantastic. Just wondered if you thought about a driving with concept - Maybs different scenarios with the boys whilst they/you drive. Xxxx" paired up with "“pull over let me drive for awhile” with jimin please? 💜"

A/N: I love this kind of domestic stuff ;-; 💞

Kim Seokjin

“Is this what Jeongguk had to go through every day you drove him to school?” you wondered with wide eyes after having experienced your boyfriend's road range.

“The light was red and he still sped up!” he motioned forward with his hand in clear exasperation.

You couldn't hold back the soft laugh that had already escaped your lips. “And I'm sure he knows now just how much of a blind dipshit he is, baby” you mocked his previous words, well, just a small part of them.

Seokjin shook his head in amusement, suddenly feeling ashamed of everything he had so mindlessly said in front of you. “I'm sorry, I'll calm down”.

This time you straight up cackled, shifting in your seat to make yourself more comfortable on it. Just as you were about to open your mouth, though, another driver moved in front of you in a very careless way – at which you decided to keep it shut instead and listen to Jin go off once again.

To be fair, the streets were flooded with cars and you had not ran into the best of drivers that day.

“Remind me to always offer to drive whenever the traffic is too much” you stated.

Jin laughed lightly, turning his head to look at you sweetly. “Aw, you'll be my personal chauffeur then”.

You bit the inside of your cheek so you wouldn't chuckle. He was not wrong; at this point, with the traffic being like this all the time, you'd have to drive him places every single day.

“But I'll have you know” his tone became serious, “I'll tell them off no matter if I'm driving or not”.

Min Yoongi

“You didn't have to come for me” he mumbled first thing after having entered your car.

“Yes, I did” you objected, instantly starting to drive away from the BigHit building, “it's pretty late”.

“Exactly” his eyes fixed on yours. “It's pretty late, babe, you should be at home”.

You shrugged, giving him a quick glance before your eyes focused back on the road. “I was nearby, it wasn't any trouble”.

Only you were lying, and he knew it.

“Oh, yeah?” he raised one of his eyebrows. “You mind telling me what you were doing then?”

You bit down on your lower lip. “I was at the library”.

Yoongi shook his head, a sly smile displaying on his face. “It's past one in the morning, you idiot, what kind of library would be open at this hour?”

“Hey, don't insult me” you pouted, glancing quickly to the rearview. “Let me be a good girlfriend, will you?”

You heard him chuckle by your side, jumping slightly up a few seconds later at the unexpected feel of his hand on yours.

“You're the best” he smiled wholeheartedly, rubbing small circles on the back of your hand.

You found yourself not being able to give him any coherent answer due to the way your heart was fluttering. Instead, you squeezed his hand back.

“Get some sleep” you suggested, “you know it's still a while until we arrive”.

Yoongi simply nodded, resting his head on the back of the seat before he closed his eyes – not even dreaming of letting go of your hand during the whole ride home.

Jung Hoseok

“Jagiya?” his voice made you snap out of your daydream, tilting his head slightly up to take a look to the rearview.

“Yeah?” you answered in a dreamy way nonetheless.

“Do you have to stare at me like this every single time I try to park?”

Although he tried to sound serious, the cocky smile that had already curved up his lip let you know he was actually enjoying it. He had always loved having your undivided attention anyway.

You rolled your eyes, sitting up straight as you later fixed them on the way his hands worked on the steering wheel. “It's not my fault you look so hot while doing so” you shrugged.

“Stop” he warned you, like always, becoming flustered at your compliments and trying to brush them away. “You're making this harder for me”.

“Oh, am I now?” you cooed, your hand going to softly play with his earlobe.

Hoseok shivered at the feeling, not even bothering on gazing to the coy smile he knew you were currently wearing, as he did his best to just park the car for once and for all.

“Y/N…”

“Even that ridiculous hat of yours looks hot on you right now” you teased.

Hoseok snorted. “You do know insulting my hat won't take you anywhere, right?”

“Is it not?” your hand went to his chin, moving his head in your direction so that he had to look at the pout adorning your lips.

He broke free from your touch immediately, avoiding your eyes as he once again focused on the rearview. “At least not until you let me get this done with so we can go upstairs”.

Now that's what you were talking about.

Kim Namjoon

“So how was the party?” your boyfriend asked as he started the engine.

“It was pretty good” you nodded your head in affirmation, buckling your seatbelt.

“Is that why you called me asking to come pick you up so early?” he chuckled, giving you a quick glance before his eyes were back on the road.

“I just missed my handsome, lovely boyfriend” you hummed, smiling at the way his answer was a pretty visible roll of eyes.

“Good way to make me feel more like your boyfriend and less like your personal driver”.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words. He had no right to complain whatsoever, when it was him the one who always told you to call him to go pick you up whenever you went out. He just felt calmer knowing you were safe with him and not some stranger in a taxi.

“Well, you are both, aren't you?” you teased him further, earning a glare from him. “If it makes you feel any better” you caught his attention, resting your head on the back of the seat, “all my friends were like, drooling over you when they saw you coming out of your car”.

Namjoon bit his lower lip to stop a smile from curving up on them. You knew, however, you had managed to boost his ego.

“Honestly, Nams” you laughed amusingly, “you looked like a movie star, getting out of it in slow motion and then just standing there for me t–”

“Stop” he laughed, too, now becoming shy at your overdramatic narration.

“I'm just saying” you shrugged, staring out the window, “I'll have to keep an eye open for them when it comes to you”.

He shook his head, reaching out to grab your hand. There would be no need for that.

Park Jimin

“You do know I have a license too, right?” you reminded him.

“Which doesn't mean you're a good driver”.

The scoff that abandoned your mouth because of his words had him smirking in a second – his eyes still glued to the road.

“I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that” you informed him, “and ask you once again to let me drive”.

As expected, Jimin shook his head no.

“Jimin-ah” you whined, “you've been driving for hours. Please, just take a rest”.

“I'm fine, love” he reassured you.

However, the yawn that escaped his mouth only a few seconds after told you otherwise, which was not a shocker at all. You had left your house at 6am to go on your road trip, it was obvious he'd be exhausted by this point.

“Jimin” your voice turned stern.

“No”.

You sighed. “Pull over, let me drive for a while”.

No response.

“Or I swear to God you're not getting any kisses or cuddles for a whole month”.

Ten seconds. It took him ten seconds to pull over, for he knew you were not kidding.

Meeting in the front of the car as you traded places, you took that moment to cup his face and kiss his lips briefly. “See?” you smiled, “you get to rest and enjoy the beautiful view, and you also get kisses. It's a win-win situation”.

Jimin shook his head in disbelief, not even bothering on hiding his smile. “Whatever” he walked over to the passenger seat, “I'm just agreeing to this because I love you” he cheesily said.

And almost an hour later, when he was resting his head against the open window, slowly drifting off as he enjoyed the view you had told him about, he was sure he loved you and your stubborn ways even more.

Kim Taehyung

“Panda Express?” he wondered as his eyes remained fixed on the dark road. “McDonald's?” he asked again after not receiving any kind of answer from you.

When you once again remained silent, he looked at you for a brief second, smiling smugly after catching you staring at him, with your eyes sparkling in the darkness of the car as you were completely spaced out.

“Love?” he chuckled, finally making you come back to him.

“Huh?”

Taehyung laughed one more time. “I know I look great in this suit” his cocky comment had you rolling your eyes immediately, “but I need to know where you want me to take us to”.

“I can't believe you just came back from an award show and still felt like going out for food at midnight” you let out a breathy laugh instead of answering him.

“I'm hungry, don't shame me” he whined.

“Didn't they have food over there though?”

“I mean, yes” he confirmed, holding on to the steering wheel to turn left, later reaching out to hold your hand with one of his, “but it's been a while since we've done this” he pointed out, “I just want to spend some time alone with you”.

The corners of your lips curved up at his words, feeling your heart pounding loudly against your chest. It had indeed been a while since the two of you went for a night drive; getting food and just sitting inside the car for hours as you ate and talked about anything and everything.

“So?” he wondered once again, at which you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “Where to?”

“Oh” you sat up straight, “Panda Express, definitely” you smirked, knowing well enough that was what he wanted – your hand squeezing his after he did the same to yours in a thankful manner.

Jeon Jeongguk

“You are the worst driving teacher in the whole world” you huffed, stopping the car and letting go of the steering wheel so you could fold your arms over your chest.

Jeongguk's hand clutched to his chest, making it seem like your words had hurt him deeply. “It's not my fault you're the worst student there is” he fought back.

He moved away from you as he saw your hand go up to softly slap his arm, failing miserably at it, which is why he did the same to you right after, before the two of you started laughing.

“Honestly, babe” he tried to catch your attention as you were looking out of the window not to show how amused you actually were, “who drives like that?” another laugh escaped his throat, recalling your previous movements.

“Well, me, apparently” you took your eyes away from the window only to glare at him. “I'll just ask Jin oppa to teach me, he'll treat me better than this”.

“Hey” he frowned, “I am your boyfriend, therefore your designated driving teacher”.

Shaking your head as you chuckled, you unbuckled your seatbelt so you could gently press your lips to the corner of his. “Can we please just go now?” your smiled mirrored the one your affection had caused on him, “I'm hungry”.

Jeongguk rolled his eyes in disbelief. “Okay, but let's change places. You're obviously not taking us anywhere”.

Not being able to argue against that, you complied, believing that would be the end of the conversation. However, you were proven wrong once he was on the driver's seat, for he smiled obnoxiously wide as he started turning the steering wheel from one side to another, like in his head you had been doing before.

You threw your head back on your seat after listening to his mocking laugh. He was so annoying. “That's it, I'm definitely going to Jin oppa”.

[timeoverload]

Today wasn't too bad I suppose. It didn't start very well because I slept through all 20 of my alarms. It's kind of ridiculous that I have to set that many as it is but I have a bad habit of hitting the snooze button. I usually get up around 4:30 or 5 but today I didn't get up until 6:15 and that's when I normally have to leave on Wednesdays.

I stayed up way too late last night but I wouldn't have been able to sleep even if I had tried because it was too loud. The neighbors down the street were lighting off super loud fireworks until almost 1 in the morning. I was so pissed and I really wanted to go over there and tell them they were being rude but I'm not a confrontational person. I don't even remember falling asleep but I don't think I got more than 4 hours. I guess having 2 days off messed me up too and I also forgot I had to be there earlier. I work at 7 on Mondays and Tuesdays and 6:30 on Wednesdays and Thursdays.

Luckily I still had time to get everything set up and get breakfast before cases started at 7:30. I had 24 today but I got done with them by 3:00. I had time to sit down and eat my lunch too. It definitely was better than last Wednesday. I had 31 cases that day due to add-ons and there was also an hour delay because one of the surgeries took longer than usual so I ended up having to stay late and I was already exhausted. I was so grumpy after that and Thursday sucked.

I also got mad last week because that creepy guy I work with that won't leave me alone tried hitting on me again in front of a bunch of people and I basically had to tell had to tell him to fuck off. It was embarrassing. After that incident, he left the department for a while and when he came back he was clearly in a bad mood and was banging stuff around. It felt like he was trying to be intimidating or something and he also kept trying to find reasons to talk to me. I told him previously that I thought it was weird that he kept calling me beautiful and amazing and I tried to make it clear that it made me uncomfortable. I haven't shown any interest whatsoever so I don't understand why he keeps trying. I don't trust him. He doesn't seem to show a lot of respect for women. He's very desperate for a relationship and I'm not the only girl he acts that way towards. He cornered another girl in the stairwell to get her phone number. I'm not sure why she gave it to him since she said that she doesn't like him either. I would never give him any of my information. Most of the girls are uneasy around him and he likes to go around trying to get hugs. If he tries to say or do anything else to me like that I'm going to HR. He says he's planning on working there a long time and I can't wait to get away from him. At least I don't have to see him at all this week since he's out of town. I don't want him to come back but I'm happy that I haven't had to see him since he did that.

I got to leave work a couple minutes early so that was nice. I went to the store to get cat food and more snacks for myself. I have been eating so much junk food. I think I have actually gained a couple pounds which is good news. Some of my clothes are fitting better. I hope I can continue gaining weight but I also need to eat a little healthier sometimes. I don't even know how much I weigh right now since I don't have a scale so I guess I will find out when I go to the doctor on Friday. I'm also still planning on asking for her to increase my dosage of lamotrigine to 175mg a day since I've been taking 150mg for a while now. I am going to see if she will give me ativan or something for my anxiety. I have taken anxiety meds before and I don't really like them but lately I'm having a really hard time managing it. I haven't had blood work done in a while so I should probably ask to have that done too.

I'm going to make some dinner soon and get ready for bed. I'm sure I will sleep a lot better tonight and hopefully I actually wake up on time in the morning. I'm glad I only have to work one more day this week and tomorrow shouldn't be too busy. I'm going to do my best to make it a good day.