#ive had the fake hugs where they try to not get neat me and they dont mean it

[sk3l3t0n444]

i dont wanna be alone but im overstimulated by being around people :/

[wavbleu]

Rodrick heffley: Keep quiet

tw: possession and degrading

~~~~~~~~~

"I cant believe she would do that to you!" you say with a short giggle, you look at Rodricks adorable face and my smile grew bigger knowing that the only time hes genuinely happy and laughing is around you. "I was so totally shocked when she bit me, my dick hurt for like the following week." He stroked his fingers through his semi-short hair and continued on his painful story on how he lost his virginity.

You and Rodrick have been talking for 2 and a half months now, you and him have an extreme connection despite the fact that you are totally opposite. You like to wear softer colored clothes and get good grades in school, and Rodrick well... doesn't. He doesn't give a shit what people think or say about him and just goes the way he wants to, Thats what you've always adored him, you were jealous of that.

Sometimes  you question how your friends with a guy as corrupted as him.

But when ever you converse the words just spill out of you, it actually feels like hes engaged and actually willing to hear more and learn about you. You've never experienced anything like that before. Speaking that most of your exes just used you for sex.

Whenever your around Rodrick, you feel like yourself. What ever you are scared to be in front of everyone else you show it to him and he strangely accepts it. Obviously, you would even consider him your best friend or 'pal' But lately ... the way he touches you isnt very 'pal-like' . Although it may seem like something small, he would massage your knee and work his way down your smooth thigh, stopping right before he reaches your inner thigh; slowly massaging that area and leaves you wanting more of him.

It could be when your hugging and he lowers his hands from your waist to your hips.. Stuff like that may not seem large but it speaks louder and clear that theres sexual tension in the air.

Rodrick finished up his tragic v card story and you both giggled, Rodrick then abruptly stopped laughing and his once loud laugh turned into a snarky smile. "What's with the smirk." you say smiling nervously not knowing what he will do.

"Are you a virgin?" He says, "Nah." You respond back to him. "Ive only had sex with 2 people though."

Yea you weren't a virgin (at all) but man when you had sex it was just beyond awful, terrible. Butterflies grew in your stomach as you watched him bite his cheek in amazement.

"Wow, Little miss Y/N getting freaky in the sheets." he teased, you droopily looked down at your swinging feet hanging off your bed and sighed before admitting, "Well it wasn't exactly good.. if fact it was absolutely dreadful." , "Well i wanna hear this to see if its just as bad as mines."

You adjusted yourself to lean against the white headboard, looking at Rodrick who was seated at the end of the bed. You wrapped your arms around your pillow and started reminiscing on how you lost your virginity at the ripe old age of 17.

"Well it was a party that was at some random guys house.. gee I dont even remember his name... I think it was like tony or something like that.","We were in this small group with other people in our grade, we were bored so we decided to play 7 minutes in heaven.." , "and it was my turn to spin the bottle, sadly."...

flashback

~~~~~

(skip if you dont like the extra length.)

You anxiously spun the bottle, hoping that it would stop on your crush, Luke Hannington.  The bottle spun and everyone watched in awe.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach as the bottle started to decelerate and fixate on a person.. tense but hopeful , you look up at the person the bottle focused on.

Luke.

You tried to hold back your sheer excitement and joyfulness, but it quickly came to a halt after seeing your crushes nonchalant, monotone, bored face. 'He was probably hoping for someone hotter' you think yourself pathetically.

Everyone sneakily snickered and whispered in each others ears after seeing his disappointed face and disgusted eyes.

You felt like bursting into tears after feeling the way you did. You felt hideous.

"So ill set the timer, the closet is on your left sweetie."  The host said, obviously trying to hold back her sneaky remarks until you get in the closet.

He quickly gets up and speed walks to the closet, you followed, fondling your fingers and biting the skin off your lip.

You got to the closet, atleast he was sweet enough to hold the door open for you.

You sat down on the carpeted floor, hassling all the jackets and coats off of you. Luke frantically searched for the light so we can actually see in this closet and took a seat after.

He closed the door and minutes later you heard it lock from the otherside, "Begin, lovebirds!"

The only thing that began was the pure awkwardness and his uncomfortable glances. "So um.." You tried to start a convo but failed at it miserably, nothing you were doing was working, he would always give this stupid uncomfy look or mess with his collar. You were milliseconds away from kicking the door down and leaving this stupid party.

"Im sorry." he said noticing your frustration, "I dont think your ugly or anything.", "Ive had sex before, but not with strangers."

Stranger. Neat.

Tension arosed in the closet after he asked out of no where, "Have you ever been fingered before?" ,"I think im a pro if i say so myself."

You nodded your head no, "Im a virgin..","Ive always wanted to though.." You tried to say seductively hoping to make him hard.  "Open your legs." He sternly demanded, you obeyed and did just that.

He pulled off your cotton panties and felt you up and down, then awkwardly slid a finger in. You gasp surprised, hoping he would've given more foreplay. "Um.." You moan as he fingered you in an accelerating pace , rubbing your left lip thinking it was your clit.

You felt second hand embarrassment for him, Luke Hannington doesn't know where the clitoris is?

You were drying out and getting turned off by his loud grunts and heavy breathing, actually thinking he was doing something. "Somebody lied to this man.." You said in your head. "No way do i actually have to fake an orgasm for this psychopath to stop."

You prepped yourself and tried replicate the girls off of pornhub, "Oh yes!" you moaned as you shook your legs frantically, a smile grew upon his face as he went faster. "Im gonna-" You dramatically puff your chest up faking an intense orgasm.

He stopped and swiped the sweat off of his forehead, "Good right?" , "Great, i bet you i wont  even be able walk straight!" You moan, you cheesily snapped your fingers and giving him finger guns to throw him off your awful acting.  The timers alarm rung, "Finally." You thought to yourself.

You stood up and walked out of the closet just fine.

You got back to the group who were snickering and giggling like a bunch of pre-schoolers.

~~~~

end of flashback

"Bad but not as bad as mines." He chuckled competitively, "Whatever." You threw a pillow at him. "Ive been cursed with the spell "awful sex." ever since that night." You dramatically say, "Is that so?" , "No guy has been capable of making you cum.. making you scream?" His voice lowered, looking into your eyes with a hot confused look.

"Yea pretty much." You sneakily adjust your skirt so he can see your soft thighs and a sliver of your panties. The room went silent as he looked you up and down, examining your body and its crevices , he licked his lips struggling to control the urge to squish and carress your thighs. He quickly looked down hoping you didnt notice how long he was staring at your body, so hungrily.

"Hey um.. y/n" He said scooting closer to you.

Your breath became heavy and palms began to sweat as you watched him scoot in closer.

"Have you been feeling it too?" his soft deep voice lowering into a erotic whispering tone. "F-feeling what?" You stumble trying to think straight, his eyes were fixated on your lips, he wanted them badly.

"You know.." "The tension?" He slowly rubs your thigh with his huge hands, maneuvering them up your skirt but stopping right before he hit, you know what. You hated that. You nod slowly to his question.

"You told me you never came before?" He questioned, "No.. never." You responded back. He put a stray hair behind your ear, then smoothly rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Can i be your first?"

You nod needily.

Biting your lip before going in for a deep passionate kiss. He wrapped his hand around your waist , scooting you up onto his lap. His hands adventured up your skirt again , grabbing your ass and slapping it. You gasp at the loud sound it made.

"My parents are home Rodrick!" You whisper yelled pulling away from the kiss.

Rodrick continued kissing your neck and ear, gripping your firm ass cheek, not giving a fuck about what anyone says. Like usual.

"Baby i truly don't give a shit, just keep it down." He sternly said.

"Mmm ok.." You moan and roll your head back as he made out with that sweet spot on your neck.

He roughly pinned you down and kissed you more this time exchanging tongue. He pulled away from the compelling kiss leaving a small train of spit

He pulled your panties off smoothly and stared at the sight to see. "Have you ever been fingered before?" He jokingly teased giving a little lightheart to this hot and spicy situation.

He trailed his hands up and down your wet pussy, looking for that spot.

When he finally got his hands on it you let out a small gaspy squeal, "Its right here?" You nod, breath getting faster.

"Yes daddy right there please~" You cry out, "Daddy?" He smirks, He slowly rubs his fingers around your clit. "Im your daddy now?" Rodrick bites his lip, "Then i guess your my little slut then."

"Are you my little slut?"  He asks you, he picks up his pace sending a small tingle down your spine, he giggled mischievously knowing that its gonna be hard for you to respond. You try to catch your breath but moans and shrieks keep cutting your words off.

"Are you my little.. slut?" He slipped in two fingers and fucked your tight hole and worked your g-spot, so much to a point where you had to grasp one of your plushies to keep from screaming. "Alright I guess ill have to make you say yes."

Your eyes roll back as you felt his mouth attach to your clit, swirling his tongue all around your sensitive clit. For the first time you actually wanted to cum..

"I think im gonna-" You bite into a pillow to cover the loud noise you were gonna let out.

Right before you were about to have an intense orgasm, he stopped. Edging you and all your senses. You whined like a little bitch.

"Shut the fuck up." He said unbuckling his pants, "Your gonna take this dick and your gonna like it, alright? alright." He said stroking his rock hard twitching dick before aggressively sliding in.

"My parents- ah-" , " I swear if you mention your parents one more time im gonna throat fuck you."  He said in a pissed off tone.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and slid a pillow under you.  Rodrick continued to fuck up into you, hitting that one spot again, and again, and again; and just to torture you, he rubbed your clit you were experiencing bliss, euphoria.

Rodrick swiftly took your legs off his shoulder and spread them wide open so he could get a deeper fuck, "stupid slut your legs are trembling." , "You really like me fucking you hard, hitting that spot just perfectly even when your parents are just sitting in their room ; feet away? " ,"Now when i ask this again, i want a response."

"are you my little slut?" He whispered into your ears, you moaned loudly and threw your head back, "Yes!", "Yes daddy, im your slut." ," I want your parents to fucking hear." He looked you deep in the eyes waiting for your response.

"Yes daddy im your slut.." You moaned loudly.

He grasped on your waist and pounded deep into you, the claps of your skin, the loud moans, at that point you forgot you even HAD parents.

He kept fucking into your tight cunt relentlessly, hitting every single spot perfectly. Humanly impossible.

"Cum whore i know you wanna." Rodrick says, you open your mouth but no moans come out.. that was it . You were actually gonna cum... Your legs began to shake and tumble ,  it felt like a large sneeze but in your stomach. "Im gonna-" You could barely get out.

You released yourself onto his cock, "Fucking hell." He said as he couldn't bare to last any longer. He pulled out of you and came onto your tired cunt.

"Damn baby." He groaned putting his softening dick away. "was it good?" He hopefully said, "It was amazing." You responded back excitedly.

That stupid curse is gone, yay!

Everything was good until you heard loud footsteps seconds away from your door.

~~~~~~~

Authors note:

This is a pretty long story but i actually enjoyed writing these ones, rodrick was my first story on this book (and my most popular) so you know i had to do the mf again🙄 pegging and femboy kink coming soon⚠️

[angrylizardjacket]

ask your destiny to dance [6] {Roger Taylor}

[masterpost]

“What are you doing here?” Ash’s voice is hostile, and Roger waits with his snare in his arms, just around the corner of the building. He’s not following her, or at least, he didn’t mean to; he’s just packing up his drums, like he did after every show. Sure he was a bit earlier than usual but that didn’t mean anything.

“Sweet girl, I wanted to see you.” The voice is teasing, like she should have know this already, masculine, low, and it makes Roger nauseous. Finally he peers around the edge of the building and catches a better glimpse of the man from the bar, who is now standing less than a foot from a tense and confused Ash who leans against the door to the bar.

“You- why?” Already her voice has softened, but it seems he still makes her uncertain, if the tense set of her shoulders is anything to go by. But then the man’s reaching out, resting his hands on her upper arms. “You’re not mad at me?” She asks, relaxing under his touch, looking up at him with her big, brown eyes. Something in Roger’s gut twists at the sight.

“Of course not, baby girl.” He’s got her accent, Roger realises, and something in his chest tightens as the man places his hands on her shoulders coaxing her away from the door so he can wrap her up in a hug. Roger can see her trembling as she hugs him back, a soft confusion written all over face. “I’ve missed you.” He tells her, voice a murmur, but in the crisp, night air, it’s loud enough that even Roger hears.

“Why are you here, Gus?” Ash is the one who steps back, out of his grip, leaning back against the door. Roger can see her hands shake when she pulls half a cigarette from her breast pocket.

“I wanted to see you again, make sure you’re okay.” And the man, Gus, takes her hands, gently taking the cigarette stub and throwing it away before he laces his fingers with hers. She doesn’t even protest.

“And Kira?” She’d asked, voice so soft that Roger almost didn’t catch it, and the man in question shook his head with a smile as he leaned in, murmuring something that only she could hear, pressing kiss to her cheek.

“Oh, my sweet girl, you look so good.” He mused, voice growing a little louder, stepping back to admire her, and though Roger wants to gag at his tone, syrupy and full of obviously fake revere. Ash actually giggles, and not insincerely. “As beautiful as the day I met you.”

“You think so?” Voice uncharacteristically young and hopeful, it’s so unlike her that Roger’s pushed to the end of his patience, and rounds the corner with his drum in hand, not even acknowledging the pair as he heads for his van, though the way Ash jumps back from the man as if he’d burned her, it does little to ease the discomfort in Roger’s chest.

“Hi!” Suddenly flustered, Ash moves around Gus to stand between him and Roger. He’s not really sure why she’s bothered, there’s so much distance between the back door and the van, but he thinks it might be so that they look less suspicious. It’s not working.

“Hey.” Roger says, tone clipped as he says it, fumbling for his keys as he opens the back doors of the van.

“This is, uh, August.” She’s aware of how strange it sounds, how guilty her words come out, and when Roger’s sat his drum inside the van, he finally turns to get a good look at the man. The man with a hand on Ash’s shoulder, making direct, unflinching eye contact with Roger, smirking.

“August, this is Roger, he’s in the band.” There’s a waiver to her voice that Roger doesn’t like, and he can’t bring himself to smile at her. Everything feels so wrong, and Ash looks so guilty, like she’s been caught red handed.

He’s handsome by any definition, but not by Ash’s usual one. High cheek bones, hair gelled up into a neat quiff with a few sparing grey strands running through it that only served to make him look more distinguished, as did the dark, well groomed stubble on his jaw. He looks to be in his late 40s, in a pressed, well tailored suit, and shoes that Roger would consider too formal for even an explicitly formal event, so out of place in the dingy, pub setting. And his hand is still on Ash’s shoulder.

Roger doesn’t want to think about why it puts him on edge, just knows that it does. August takes long, deliberate strides before he reaches Roger, holding out his hand.

“August Reid.” His smile was sharp, and when Roger took his hand, he held it a little too tight, a show of dominance. “You guys played very well.” It’s the least sincere compliment Roger’s ever received; he wants nothing more than to punch August in his smug face.

“Roger.” After a beat, he leaned against the edge of the van, crossing his arms. “So how do you know Ash?”

“Ashley.” August correct automatically, and Roger can see the way Ash flinches out the corner of his eye, still looking a little mortified, avoiding looking at both of them. August doesn’t see it, his smile widens just a little bit, all sharp teeth. “I taught her back at Saint Andrew’s, I thought I’d stop in while I was in town.” 

“He was my Art History professor.” Ash confirms from behind him, and Roger freezes where he’s looking at her. He’s never seen her like this before, demure, shy; she’s always consciously made an effort to appear larger than life, to compensate for her size and sweet looks, but now she looks so young. She can’t even bring herself to meet his gaze, but he can tell she doesn’t know he saw their earlier exchange, if she did know, he thinks she probably wouldn’t be so honest about that.

“Oh,” is all Roger can say, before he snaps out of it, moving past where August is trying to be intimidating, up to Ash who’s leaning against the back door, “Rocket, can you move, I’m trying to pack up.” She doesn’t even fight him on it, tell he can walk around the front the same way as he got here. With the door opens, he hesitates, reaches out to touch her arm, and when she looks at him her expression is surprised as he tilts his head in a silent question, asking if she’s okay.

“What?” She snaps, frowning and shifting out of his grip, a spark of her old fire returning. Roger’s moment of softness receded with his eye roll and he lets the door slam closed behind him. Part of him knows that August was watching the exchange. By the time he’s pulled down the rest of his equipment and is ready to haul it out, Ash is behind the bar, cheery as ever, and August is nowhere to be found.

“I thought you were studying fashion.” Brian muses into the balmy night air. The band had stayed until last call, intrigued about the newcomer, waiting until Ash was taking out the trash for the night to ask her, the four of them chatting around the van, Mary looking quite tired and leaning against Freddie, but enjoying their company..

“I am.” Ash agreed, seemingly back to her old self now that August had left, grinning like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This isn’t my first go at uni.” She admitted, and Freddie nodded, passing Mary his lit cigarette.

“I thought he was a talent scout or something; he’s well dressed.” Brian half smiled, and Ash chuckled, shaking her head at him, smile bright. "What was his name?” He asked, and Ash looked a little shocked, looking to Roger, who was suddenly avoiding her gaze.

“Rog didn’t tell you guys?” She asked, smile fading a little into confusion, and Roger snorted out a laugh.

“Told them he seemed like a prick.” He scoffed around his cigarette, and Ash flushed, frowning at him.

“Oi, don’t be mean, Rog! It’s just how he is, he’s always been a bit of a-” and for the barest moments they lock eyes and Ash turns a hilarious shade of pink, they both somehow know what she was about to say, he’s always been a bit of a dominant one, but she can’t bring herself to say those words out loud. She doesn’t want to say it for how it would sound, how it would make the others suspicious, but she knows Roger already is, even if she doesn’t know the full extent; it would be funny if the implication didn’t make Roger’s stomach turn, “a bit of an alpha male, you know.” After a beat, she clears her throat. “But yeah, Doctor Reid is my old Art History professor.”

It doesn’t escape Roger the way she doesn’t say his first name.

“What made you change your mind?” Mary yawns, passing the cigarette back to Freddie, and Ash fixes her with a fond smile. Since Freddie had introduced the women, they’d become fast friends, and Roger had never seen anyone as ready to fight as Ash when the dudes start leering at Mary.

“This was the only place that I could do what I wanted to.” And it sounds so honest that Roger’s tempted to believe it, if not for the memory that surfaces.

It’s her, a few months ago, bathed in moonlight, her head on his chest and his arm around her, ‘I was kicked out of uni once before, you know?’ her voice is thoughtful and he laughs, a little incredulous, asks how, but she’s grinning at him with that wicked smile of hers, and does a good enough job of distracting him that he doesn’t even realise she doesn’t give an answer.

“I’m surprised you even remember his last name,” Freddie laughs, “she couldn’t name a single lecturer on our timetable this semester.” And the others laugh, but Ash just rolls her eyes.

“I don’t want to know their names, it’s not like we’re gonna be friends,” but she does concede after she turns to head inside, “Doctor Reid is a friend of my dad’s, I’ve known him since I was sixteen.” And she smiles so blithely it somehow takes some of the shock out of her statement for Roger, who chokes on the smoke of his cigarette. 

“How did he know you were here?” John’s question cuts through Roger’s spluttering, and Ash stops in her tracks.

“What?” She asked, suddenly confused, a little defensive, as she turns back.

“How did he know you’d be here?” He asks again, so calm and unflinching, not looking away from the sudden flicker of doubt that cross Ash’s face.

“It was coincidence, Deaky; just luck is all.” She says, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She heads back inside. 

The next time they play there, he’s back, and Ash is a sweet, flustered mess, and the dichotomy of this, and who Roger knows her as, is a little shocking. Even Maureen seems concerned, though she doesn’t say anything.

“He’s too old for you.” Roger makes it out the back before Ash does during her usual post-gig break. August went home halfway through the night, and Ash had returned to her normal bright, if a little sultry, bar-persona.

“Excuse me?” She snapped as the door slammed closed, and she looked to where Roger was sitting on her usual milk crate.

“You heard me.” Roger responded, something easing in his chest at the comfort of hearing the hostility in her voice that she’d used when they’d first met. It also hurts a little, to think how he’d prefer the hostility to the cute, blushy mess that August brings out in her. “I saw how he looked at you.” 

“Watch your accusations.” She snapped, but there was actual anger in her words, which surprised Roger. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She growled, and it was cold hostility; it wouldn’t lead anywhere fun, and Roger didn’t know how to face this. “I’m an adult, dickhead, so don’t think I can’t make my own decisions.” And her accent’s a little stronger, but her words take a moment to process. “He’s a friend-”

“He calls you baby.” 

That shocks her into silence, and after a moment, a cruel, cold smile spread over her face. They both know, now, that Roger knows exactly what’s going on between her and August. He’d never been good at anything apart from blurting out exactly what was bothering him, and this time was no different.

“Are you jealous? Were you eavesdropping on us? What the fuck?” And there’s no warmth in her harsh laughter. “This is why I don’t do casual.” She spits, and Roger’s whole face lights up with shock, and he barks out a laugh.

“Jealous? Oh Ashley,” and when he says it, she flinches again, and he regrets using the name almost immediately, but he can’t help digging himself deeper, “no, I’m just interested in what a goddamn doctor, who’s almost fifty, mind you, is doing being interested in a girl like you.” 

He watches as she actually has to take a step back, her mouth falling open in shock, eyes suddenly shiny with tears, and he knows he’s fucked up.

“A girl like me...” She whispers it with a laugh, smiling sadly, before finally meeting his gaze. “He... he likes me, Roger.” And fuck, she sounds so vulnerable it’s like a punch to the gut. “After everything I’ve done, he fucking likes me.” And after a beat, she stepped forward. “He still thinks I’m good, and that’s all that matters.”

She cuts her own break short, slamming the door as she heads back inside, leaving Roger to the silence of the car park.

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[artificialqueens]

A Sunflower A Day Keeps the Doctor Away...or something like that (Biadore) - Whiskey Neat

A/N: More shit to put poor Adore through…I’m starting to feel guilty for writing these 😂

Adore groaned as she awoke to the sound of Bianca throwing the last of her belongings into her suitcase, preparing for the tour she was supposed to be leaving for in a few minutes. Adore groaned again as she rolled over in the king size bed as her brain registered the intense pain that was shooting through her stomach. She pulled the sheets closer to her body and brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her tattooed arms around them, trying to calm the ache. “Bianca” she choked out, finally opening her eyes. Bianca glanced up from her belongings to look at Adore. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked sarcastically, sensing the strangeness in Adore’s behavior. “I don’t feel good.” Bianca had a feeling she’d say that. Adore had practically been clinging to her the whole day before, finally admitting that she didn’t want the older queen to leave. Hell, she had even cried about it. So Bianca wasn’t exactly surprised that Adore would do anything to keep her from leaving and faking sick seemed like a very ‘Adore’ thing to do. “Oh yeah? What’s wrong?” Bianca asked, walking over and sitting next to Adore on the bed. Adore squeezed her eyes shut as another cramp shot through her insides. “My stomach hurts really bad…I think something’s wrong. I need to go to the hospital” Adore told her through gritted teeth. Bianca really didn’t have time for this. Her cab would be there in 5 minutes and she really didn’t want to deal with Adore’s games right now. She reached out to touch Adore’s shoulder. “Look, I know you don’t want me to leave but I have to, okay? You can quit the act.” Adore couldn’t believe her ears. Bianca actually thought she was faking. She opened her eyes, which were now stinging with tears, to look Bianca directly in the eye. “Act?? B, I’m not joking. It really hurts. I need help.” She told her desperately. Bianca sighed deeply and began to brush Adore’s long black hair out of her face. “I’ll call you every day, alright? I promise, but I really need to leave now.” She said, kissing Adore on the forehead and muttering an “I love you” before standing and grabbing her suitcase and exiting the room. “Love you too, I guess” Adore whispered to herself as she heard the front door slam, finally letting her tears fall. Bianca had really left her. She pulled her knees tighter to her chest, closed her eyes, and tried to ignore the agonizing pain that she now realized was focused in her right side. She was so fucked. It must’ve worked for a while because she did fall asleep again but woke up less than an hour later to the sun shining through the sheer white curtains. She soon realized that the pain was still there and it had turned to nausea. The next thing Adore knew, she was running to the bathroom to vomit. When she was done, she curled up into a ball on the floor, not even bothering to flush the toilet. Her brain so clouded with pain that she was convinced this could be the end. She shakily pulled out her phone and struggled to dial Courtney’s number, praying the Aussie would be awake this early. To her luck, Courtney answered on the second ring. “Courtney” Adore whimpered, before the blonde could even say anything. “Adore? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Courtney asked worriedly. “Something’s wrong…I’m in so much pain. I threw up and it hurt so bad, Court, I’ve never felt anything like this before…I think I’m dying” Adore sobbed into the phone. “Breathe Adore, can you do that for me?” Courtney asked as she coached Adore through some breathing techniques. “Where’s Bianca?” she asked, wondering why she wasn’t helping Adore. “She left for tour. She thought I was faking…” Adore trailed off.  "Shit okay, I’m on my way, everything’s gonna be fine girl, I’ll be right there.“ Courtney arrived at Adore and Bianca’s apartment no more than 15 minutes later. She found the spare key hidden in a bush and quickly ran inside, searching for the ill queen. She found her in the bathroom, still curled up on the floor with her arms hugging her middle tightly. “Shit” Courtney muttered as she caught sight of Adore. She rushed to pull the younger queen’s head into her lap as her mind raced through what could be wrong. Suddenly it hit her. “Adore, where does it hurt the worst?” She asked suddenly. Adore pointed to her lower right side. Courtney’s eyes widened as she realized her assumption was probably right. “We have to get you to the hospital, NOW” ——— 30 painful minutes and one car ride later, the pair arrived at the hospital. Courtney helped Adore inside as fast as she could, rushing to the front desk of the emergency department. Courtney told the nurse what was happening and Adore was quickly rushed to a room where the nurse did a few tests. Courtney’s assumptions were soon found to be correct when the nurse told Adore, “you have appendicitis. We’ll need to operate as soon as possible to remove it.” Adore opened her mouth to argue but quickly closed it as more pain shot through her abdomen. “The doctor will be here in a few minutes to prep you for surgery” the nurse told her before leaving the room. The queens stayed silent as Courtney moved closer to grip her friend’s hand tightly as they waited for the doctor. The doctor came in a few minutes later and inserted an IV in Adore’s arm and wheeled her out of the room. While Adore was in surgery, Courtney waited in her hospital room. She was bored out of her mind sitting in the uncomfortable chair when her phone vibrated. Bianca had texted the groupchat. BDR: Hey my flight got delayed until tomorrow afternoon…do you cunts want to do something today? CA: Can’t. Adore is in surgery right now… As soon and the word ‘read’ appeared under her last text, Courtney’s phone started vibrating continuously. Bianca was calling. As soon as Courtney hit accept Bianca’s voice came rattling through the speaker. “SURGERY?” She yelled. “Yes, surgery. She has appendicitis. You would’ve known that if you stayed with her this morning.” Courtney snapped. “Where are you? I’m coming there.” Bianca asked, ignoring the bitterness in Courtney’s voice. “I’ll text you the address. You better have a damn good idea on how you’re gonna make this up to Adore because she literally could’ve died…” “I know, I know” Bianca answered quietly, before hanging up the phone and making a quick stop at the store to pick up a bouquet of sunflowers before heading off to the address Courtney texted her. When Bianca arrived hospital, a nurse directed her to Adore’s room. Adore had just gotten out of surgery and hadn’t woken up yet. “Wow, I’m a piece of shit…” Bianca said to no one in particular as she walked into the quiet room. Courtney glanced up at her and then back at Adore who laid peacefully on the bed, her lips parted slightly as she slept. Bianca approached timidly, setting the sunflowers down on a little table and sat next to the bed in silence. The only motion in the room being Courtney’s thumb rubbing back and forth across the back of Adore’s hand as she held it. Adore twitched slightly in the bed as the anesthesia began to wear off. Bianca grabbed her other hand and squeezed it. “Adore?” Bianca said, her voice sounding so foreign, she wasn’t sure she actually said it. Adore’s brows furrowed and her light blue eyes opened and closed a few times before they stayed open, squinting at the bright lights in the room. She glanced around, remembering where she was and why she was here. To her relief, pain in her stomach had been reduced to a dull ache that she could ignore if she tried hard enough. At least she didn’t feel like dying anymore. She looked around some more, cringing when she caught sight of the IV needle that was still in her arm. Her grip on her friends’ hands tightened, and a fearful look crossed her face. “It’s okay, you’re okay” Courtney soothed. “Wha-” Adore tried to speak, only to find that her throat was dry and her voice wouldn’t work. “Here” Bianca said, grabbing a glass of water off the small table next to the bed and handing it to her. Adore took a few sips and cleared her throat before trying to speak again, suddenly realizing that Bianca was not supposed to be there. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice still not sounding very strong. “My flight got delayed and Courtney told me what happened so I came straight here…hey I’m really sorry about-” she was cut off by the nurse walking in to check on Adore. The tall, skinny nurse gave Adore more pain medication and told them that she was doing well but was required to stay overnight and could go home in the morning. Once she left the room, Bianca continued apologizing. “I’m so sorry I left you this morning when you told me you felt like shit. I honest to God thought you were faking and I never would’ve done that if I knew you’d end up like this. I should’ve paid more attention and I promise I’ll never do it again.” “B, it’s okay. I probably wouldn’t have believed me either. Even I didn’t think I’d end up like this, okay? Don’t blame yourself.” Adore told Bianca, her eyes sliding shut again. Bianca still felt guilty. “You literally could have died…what if Courtney never found you?” Adore lifted a tired hand to press her finger to Bianca’s lips. “Shhhh, I’m tiiiired…we can talk about this later” she slurred, the pain medication starting to kick in. Bianca and Courtney just looked at each other and tried not to laugh at how quickly Adore’s brain went foggy from the drugs. “Besides…” Adore started, regaining both queens’ attention. “You bought me sunflowers….” Adore mumbled cutely, poking her pointer finger into Bianca’s chest. “And sunflowers can fix ANYTHING” Bianca smiled and grabbed Adore’s hand and held it. “I’m not so sure about that one, but I’ll buy you all the sunflowers you could ever dream of if it means you’ll forgive me” “I forgive you” Adore mumbled incoherently before her eyes fell completely shut and she was out like a light. Courtney and Bianca got comfortable in their chairs, knowing they weren’t going to be leaving Adore’s side tonight. Bianca didn’t think she could ever leave Adore’s side again. Not without making sure she was okay first. She would never make that mistake again…and that was a promise.

[kyberled]

DETAILED APPEARANCE INFO

do not reblog, repost.

HEAD

FACE SHAPE: oval, going off this chart (click) and his real-life face claim CHEEKS: A bit pink, but not to the point where it looks like blushing; Many adults have deemed them pinchable. CHEEKBONES: High and defined, but not sunken; To quote Rodi, ‘I’m in love with [Braig’s] cheekbones.’ LIPS: Bow-shaped, lower lip is fuller than upper; Almost naturally pouty, very pink. Can be a bit dry and cracked after some missions, but doesn’t chew them often, so they’re not too frayed. SKIN COLOR: Olive, light medium; He’s a bit lighter when he’s younger, because he didn’t leave the Temple until he was eight, and that was to go to Ilum, of all places, but he gets more sun when he starts going on regular missions. (Somewhere between III and IV on THIS SCALE (Click); the exact place on the range changes slightly, but yeah. Closer to III) SKIN TYPE: ‘normal’, as far as skin types go. Not especially oily, not especially dry, just somewhere in a neutral ground. (Not combination, though.) Rough and calloused around his palms, fingers, knuckles, and the bottoms of his feet, from training and missions, but relatively soft and smooth everywhere else. Scars brown, would be subject to a bit of hyperpigmentation if the Jedi couldn’t apparently use the Force as sunscreen (the Jedi Path taught me a lot) EYE SHAPE: almond-shaped, hooded, upturned at the outer corners EYE COLOR: Calf brown EYEBROW SHAPE: Full, straight, barely arches, tapers off EYEBROW COLOR: Black EYELASHES: Thick, long, black NOSE SHAPE: According to this chart, it’s a ‘small hero’ nose (which I find hilarious); Slightly hooked; Rounded tip, little bit of a button; Again, adults have reported that it is very boop-able HAIR TEXTURE: Thick, smooth yet unruly, and has a gentle wave to it HAIR COLOR: Jet black HAIR LENGTH: Depending on how old he is, it’s either about to his chin (baby Braig), just over his shoulders (young teenager), just passing his shoulders (older teenager), roughly the middle of his back (adult), or, heck, even down to his hips (Elder/old Braiggos) EARS: Somewhere between rounded and oval, unattached lobe, average size

UPPER BODY

SHOULDERS: A little narrow when he’s tiny, but puberty kicks him in the jaw and he broadens out by his late teens. ARMS: Toned - Muscular, though in the sense that it’s more ‘practical muscle’ and less ‘overly defined’; Buff for use, not for show, if that makes sense. Have you ever swung a sword around for a few hours? Great exercise. This kid uses two on a daily basis. A few noticeable veins, here and there; A couple small scars in various stages of fading.  STOMACH AREA: Toned. His life is 24/7 training. This kid is ridiculously in shape. Probably some scars here, too. LOVEHANDLES?: Friend, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was buff, he’d vanish when he turned sideways. He’s got barely any fat on him. (It’s actually probably a little bit of a health issue.) CHEST/BREASTS: Smooth, also muscular. Taut, but not swollen or ballooned out. He’s lean, I suppose, is the word I’m looking for. Probably still a few scars. NIPPLES: Average size, reddish-brown in colour. BACK: Same as before - lean muscle, little scars here and there. Straight posture, a mixture of confidence, formality, and training. HAND SIZE: A little on the small side, honestly? Broad palms, long, slender fingers. Very calloused, along the palms, pads of fingers, and the knuckles (first two especially). 

LOWER BODY

HIPS: They don’t lie, I’ll tell you that much. Again, muscular - a little wide, though whether this is due to muscle growth or just Braig being naturally a lil curvy, who knows.  BOTTOM: As I said, he doesn’t have a lot of fat on him, so it’s not big, but like the rest of him, pretty toned. Both of his romantic partners in their respective verses have given it five stars. (He’s unsure what to make of this.) THIGHS: Sturdy, muscular, lean. He’s flexible, with great balance, honed through training. He can’t outmatch physical giants in the Jedi Order like Hano, or, to pick a canon character, Krell, in terms of raw strength, so he focuses on agility. He’s got nice legs. Again, probably a few small scars, here and there. CALVES: Proportionate to his legs. Muscular, the calves of a martial artist and a trained warrior. Also, more scars. LEG LENGTH: I suppose long-ish? They’re a bit longer than his head+torso, but not by much, so pretty average. 

OTHER

BODY HAIR: Doesn’t have much. It’s pretty much localised to his underarms, and the nether regions. His arms and legs are bare, and he couldn’t grow facial hair if he tried. (He did, in fact, try, just on a whim. It was disappointing, to say the least.) What he does have is a bit sparse, and very dark - black, like his head-hair.  SCENT: He smells a bit like leather, a bit like old stone, a bit like the air before a lightning strike (I, personally, imagine that lightsaber blades sort of give off that ozone-y energy smell), a bit like heated metal, like tea, and sweat, and battlefield dust, and the fake-not-pineapple scent of bacta and maybe a bit of medical disinfectant, a little like soap and shampoo and laundry detergent, and boot polish, and flowers, and weapons grease, maybe a bit like Obidad’s aftershave or cologne if he’s had a bad day and needs a tight hug. And a few people say he also smells a little like sweets, but that depends on the day. How much of each scent really depends on what he’s been doing recently. HAND NAILS: Very short, usually only a sliver of white over the pinks. Rounded and smooth, good for making a proper fist while also being well-manicured and clean. Sometimes, there’s a bit of dirt, or grit, or blood underneath, and other times there might be a bit of boot polish or weapons grease, but he washes his hands regularly enough that it’s never really a problem. He usually makes sure his hands are clean before leaving the Temple, if he can. TOENAILS: Short and neat, though he’s a bit less meticulous with his toes than with his hands - people don’t see his feet too often, and he doesn’t need his toenails short to make a fist. He keeps ‘em best as he can, but if they get a bit long, he won’t kick himself for it.  VOICE: I think, at least as a teenager, he would in fact sound like his FaceClaim, Boo.Boo Stew.art - A really good clip of him talking (to puppies) is here: (click), though when he’s older, it does deepen; I’ll have to look for a good voice claim for that. One important thing to note is that he does have a Coruscanti accent; ‘English’, in our Earthling terms, though it’s closer to Ewan’s Ob/i-W/an accent, since that’s what Braig grows up with. ACCENT: As I said, an English/Coruscanti accent. It’s not too thick, no more than Obidad’s is. He has it in every verse - his bio father, Eadric, has a very English accent, as well, so he grows up with it no matter who he was initially raised by.

HEIGHT: 5’0” as a young padawan (eg from age 13), 5′7″ as an older padawan (eg from age 17), and 5′9″ is his full height.  WEIGHT: 155.55 lbs is his full weight as an adult, but of course it depends on his age/height.  PIERCINGS: None, though Rogue Braig and modern Braig have seriously considered getting a single earring in his left ear lobe. TATTOOS: None, though he has a few he’s considered. Again, Rogue and Modern Braig are more likely to have these. BRA SIZE: Doesn’t wear one. SHOE SIZE: Apparently it’s 8 in American men’s when he’s fully grown. I barely know my own shoe size, so I’m leaving this. PREFERRED CHOICE OF SHOES: Simple leather boots in canon; In modern, he has a battered pair of old hiking boots, and another set of old comfy sneakers, and those are the ones he loves most. CLOTHING STYLE: He dresses in pretty typical Jedi clothing. Brown tunic, trousers, boots and belt, often wears a red sash under his belt, and, of course, his scarf; He loses the scarf when he gets older, (around 16-17) and adopts more greys, as well as a brown tabbard and grey vambraces, as a Jedi knight, his shirt is grey with two brown stripes on the right sleeve (brown stripes on your sleeve, according to Legends canon, signify having been born in the Coruscant system; These things are completely optional, but he likes them). The brighter colours in his outfit shift away from red and towards purple. As a Sith/Sith apprentice? Black clothes, tunic, maybe a tabbard, red accents, typical stuff. As a Rogue, it’s a lot of thrown-together, whatever he can find type-stuff. He likes things with pockets, since he can hide things there, and he modifies most jackets he wears to have pockets hidden on the inside where he can stash his sabers. He likes leather jackets, and he’d absolutely be willing to shell out the necessary credits for armourweave clothes he can wear around. It’s a way less formal, refined look than he wore when he was younger. He’s still big on neutral/earth tones, but if he needs to buy more opulently coloured stuff to blend in, he will. He also wears a small, woven black ‘bracelet’ around his left wrist - this is his padawan braid that he cut off himself, and he melted the beads down to join the ends together. He fiddles with it when he’s stressed. Modern Verse Braig likes dark/neutral pants, jackets, shoes, etc, but bright and vividly coloured shirts, and accessories can fall on either end of the scale. He likes comfortable, durable clothes that he can move around in, and if he’s gonna get a design or graphic on his clothes, he prefers a simple picture. he’s not above wearing jewellery in this verse (or his Rogue verse, might I add) though, again, prefers a simple necklace or one of those camp-style friendship bracelets to anything else. GENERAL BODYSHAPE: I will say right now that finding accurate body-type name charts for men sucks (though one said Braig’s body-shape is called ‘Adonis’, and I think we’re both giggling). I guess it’s somewhere between inverted triangle and rectangle? Could even get off calling some younger shots hourglass, before he starts filling out and growing into himself. I dunno. He’s Braig-shaped.

TAGGED BY: i stole a meme on free meme day TAGGING: literally all of my mutuals who want to tackle this monster i have been staring at pictures of boostew for like thirty minutes to figure out what shape his EARS are do you think i have the presence of mind to tag people