#listen why would they have him call his romantic partner by his last name if not to invoke the image of the partner in crime-solving

[rovermcfly]

all I want for knives out 3 is for phillip to be in it in the role of romantic partner who against his will gets dragged into the investigation because it happened on a vacation he's on with benoit or sth and he now has to function as the utterly unwilling watson/hastings to benoit's holmes/poirot

and everytime they introduce themselves they have to correct people who assume "partner" means business partner to let them know he is his romantic partner and actually he would prefer to not be involved in the investigation

[tanghuyuj]

do you think you could love me?

genre: fluff, classmates to ??, high school au

pairing: non-idol!woonhak x gn!reader

synopsis: woonhak’s relationships always lack seriousness, ending with the other doing something that breaks his heart. all he wants is to commit to someone and for them to commit to him as well. fortunately, you might be just that.

warnings: food (dumplings and sikhye which is a korean rice drink), they get in trouble, woonhak has a mentioned history with girls, little jihoon cameo, random teacher ocs, yn has a habit of biting their inner cheek

wc: 2.8k

maia’s note: woonhak oneshot we cheered!! this is inspired by the song ‘do you think you could love me?’ by yung kai and it’s such a cute song so i recommend listening to it ^o^ this work is also kinda in celebration of 300 followers sooo. enjoy reading!! reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!! 🤍

woonhak says he doesn’t believe in true love. yet he is always, in one way or another, in some kind of romantic relationship.

no, he isn’t a player (or at least, he doesn’t think he is), it’s just that every experience of his has ended up having a dramatic, horrible downfall.

he meets a girl, she promises him that she is unbelievably smitten, and then proceeds to either cheat or end their relationship with some sappy, strange, and/or stupid reason. ‘the three s’s’ is what he calls it.

at first, he thought it was just bad luck—a silly curse, maybe—but he very soon realized that true love simply and sadly does not exist. for him, that is.

read under the cut! ⬇️

still, woonhak finds himself in romantic relationships that lack in seriousness left and right. he can’t quite pin a certain period of time where he didn’t have romantic involvement in his life. it could just be that he doesn’t know how to live his life without it, but woonhak can’t exactly admit that yet and keeps on chasing.

and with each breakup, each ghosting, each whatever the situation is—he finds himself digging the hole deeper down.

he wonders often if he’s ever going to see the light from the surface that has been hidden his whole life.

“woonhak!”

he turns to his right to find his friend, jihoon, calling him.

the ends of jihoon’s eyes are crinkled in frustration and his face conveys a clearly upset expression.

“do you know how long i’ve been calling your name?” the boy sighs. “you were sitting here, blanking out and staring off like you’re insane. in fact, you are insane.”

woonhak blinks. his eyebrows furrow in realization of jihoon’s words.

“i’m not insane. you’re insane!” he grumbles.

jihoon scoffs, leaning down and resting his arms on woonhak’s desk. “yeah, yeah, sure. the teacher told us to put our desks back into regular formation. that’s why i was calling you, you weirdo.”

woonhak rests his head on his arms. “why does that matter to me? i don’t have a seat partner.”

“well, it matters to you now. we have a new kid coming.” jihoon pushes himself off the desk and stands again, putting his hands in his pockets.

woonhak jumps in his seat and sits up straight. “wait—what? there’s a new kid?”

jihoon nods, “yep!”

a curiosity arises inside woonhak as he wonders who this person is—especially if they’re gonna be his desk partner.

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

woonhak is, as he would say it, currently as ‘single as a pringle.’

sure, there are a few people asking for a form of attention from him, but he isn’t in anything serious and definitely doesn’t have a commitment currently.

with his last breakup, the girl ghosted him out of nowhere.

then, during the following days, they saw each other at school and she would quickly walk away, pretending as if her and woonhak had no relation between them and never once did.

only a few days later was when a friend of woonhaks spotted her with a new guy and woonhak was left with another piece of his heart broken off.

when woonhak meets you, he simply stares.

he watches as you walk into the room, approach the seat next to him, and sits down right there with a small few inches between you two.

he seems to have no shame in doing so since this gaze lasts for basically what is the whole entire day.

the next day starts the same way. woonhak ogles you throughout the morning as if studying your every action.

though, it gets put on pause midday.

your teacher is in the middle of a lecture and about everyone in class is dozing off; daydreaming about a good meal and chatting with some friends. lunch was soon.

woonhak was part of that majority until he notices your hand sliding over to his desk and gesturing him to read something on your notebook.

‘do you have an obsession?’

woonhak’s eyes widen.

he picks up his pencil, scrambling to quickly scribble down on the paper.

‘what do u mean?’

you slide the notebook closer to you, writing a response.

‘what is so interesting about me, woonhak?’

woonhak doesn’t necessarily think he is an easy man, but perhaps this was being proven wrong as his heart skips a beat.

you know his name. this isn’t a big thing at all, so why is his heart thinking otherwise?

he writes down a reply without thinking and you watch him attentively.

‘ure pretty’

he stares at his writing for a moment before realizing what he just wrote down.

he gasps, and a loud, disruptive sound releases from out of his mouth.

your teacher turns towards your desk with a stern look plastered on his face.

“do you have something to share with us all, kim woonhak?”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

the notebook gets confiscated.

and now, you and woonhak are sitting in your school’s office. your teacher is sitting in front of you with a stone-cold expression.

he starts, “yn, it has only been one day since you have been here and you have already caused trouble.”

you look at woonhak, who’s staring directly at you. you wish that the stupid, brainless expression on his face would falter even once. to you dismay, it does not, though.

you turn back to your teacher. “i’d like to correct you, mr. lee, in the nicest way possible.”

you frown, continuing to speak, “i didn’t cause any trouble. it was him.” you make a waving gesture to woonhak, thinking the look on his face will now form into something more shocked.

it doesn’t.

he stays looking straight at you. a warm, increasingly hot feeling boils in you.

mr. lee, who now stares at the two of you with a confused manner, looks to woonhak. he scans him before saying, “woonhak, is this true?”

“yes, sir. yn is right.” he continues to stare at you and his words come out with almost no hesitation. the corners of his lips turn upward into a cheeky smile. “it was all my fault. i mean—you heard me. i was the one who disrupted the class.”

the middle-aged man nods slowly. “alright.” he writes on a small piece of paper, pressing the pen against it a little too roughly.

mr. lee hands the slip to woonhak. “i hope this is not a common occurrence from here on out. if so, i’ll have to separate you two as desk mates.”

woonhak grabs the slip and gives the teacher a small smirk.

“it won’t sir.”

while leaving the office, woonhak’s steps tread lightly as if he didn’t just get assigned detention. you decide to stop him.

“hey, woonhak.”

he turns. “what’s up?”

you bite the inside of your cheek; a habit of yours.

“sorry. you didn’t have to go along with what i was saying, you know.”

he shrugs. “it’s fine. one detention won’t kill.”

he takes a step closer to you.

“if you do want to make it up to me though..” he offers you the detention slip.

you furrow your eyebrows. scoffing, you reply, “i’m not going to detention for you.”

he shakes his head, taking your hand and putting the paper in it. the touch of his soft hands makes you put more pressure into your cheek. “you won’t have to.”

and with that, he begins walking down the hallway.

you frown and turn your attention to the slip, staring at it with confusion.

“look at the back!” woonhak yells to you and his voice bounces off the walls of the empty hall.

you flip the paper over, finding his sloppy writing there.

it reads: “come help me escape detention? you’ll be helping me and i promise i’ll treat you afterwards.”

then, at the bottom of the slip: “deal ??” is written with a messy drawing.

you squint at it, trying to figure out what it possibly is.

a penguin? no. mochi..? no. a blob? maybe.

woonhak shouts to you once again, now at the very end of the hallway.

“it’s a snowman!” you can’t quite hear what he follows up with since it’s more of a grumble but it sounds something like, “is my drawing really that bad..?”

he chuckles, “see you then! don’t let me down!”

he waves in a big flashy motion, flapping his arms as if he’s a baby bird trying to fly.

he leaves, and you stand there in the hall alone, trying to process everything that had just happened.

still, the only image that lingers in your mind is woonhak’s face. that absolutely stupid, unbearable expression of his.

you continue to nibble at the inside of your cheek harder.

but if it’s so unbearable, why can’t you stop thinking about it?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

here woonhak was—in the gloomy detention room, waiting for you to enter the room and come to his rescue.

he looks up at the clock. 4:30, it reads.

he focuses on the sound of the clock hand ticking, counting each tick. perhaps this is what boredom does to someone, he thinks.

when the count reaches 129, he hears the door open.

his head immediately turns to look, and a smile grows on his face in no time.

you walk into the almost silent room and your gaze wanders to woonhak. you roll your eyes, already able to tell what he’s thinking behind that lopsided smile of his.

you walk to mrs. park, the detention supervisor, who sits at a desk at the very front of the room.

“hello!” you say, generating as much enthusiasm as you possibly can.

she looks at you with a confused smile. “hello. what could i help you with?”

you bite a little at your inner cheek. “i, uh, had some questions about the elective you teach.”

her face brightens automatically. “of course! ask away.”

you smile awkwardly. “i actually wanted to know where it is held. is it possible for you to show me?”

she hums, looking around the room. woonhak quickly diverts his attention from your way as he was focused into the conversation.

“i’m afraid i cannot. i can tell you the room number, though?” she responds.

you crinkle your nose, trying to think of some kind of excuse to get her up and out of the classroom.

you exhale a long sigh. “i’m actually new here.. i don’t know my way around campus well.”

her face softens and she thinks for a moment, taking a look at her watch.

“alright, come with me,” she concludes.

you internally celebrate but quickly catch yourself. wait—why are you so happy?

you follow her out the room and around the school as she leads you to an art class with an interior of scattered easels and cabinets full of paint and other creative supplies.

you nod the whole time, not quite faking you interest as it does seem even the slightest fascinating to you.

when she is finished, you thank her for her time and walk to the entrance of the building.

there, you find the boy you saved.

he smiles warmly at you. “thank you, yn.”

you scoff, continuing to walk without stopping. “you’re welcome, snowman. you gonna treat me out now?”

he rushes to match your pace. he grins, “why, of course. i’m a snowman of his words.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

he takes you to a small, hole in the wall dumpling place.

it sports an old-school style with a cozy, somewhat lived in feeling. messages of customers from the past and present are written on the walls in messy marker smudges and faded letters written in pencil. you can tell they have immense meaning, even if you can’t exactly read it.

you and woonhak sit against the wall at a dark wooden table.

“this place is…” you take time to think about the right word.

“unbelievably beautiful?” woonhak chuckles, finishing your sentence.

“yeah. it feels like there’s so many words to describe it yet none of them can quite hold all of it.”

woonhak nods, and his piercing gaze on you is back. you aren’t oblivious—woonhak has been staring at you the whole way from your school to the restaurant and even now as you both sit there.

an older lady approaches your table. she smiles sweetly at you and woonhak.

“what could i get you two?”

woonhak gestures you to order first.

“i’ll get the juicy pork dumplings, please.”

an unfamiliar emotion flickers over woonhak’s face for a moment before it quickly leaves. you think you might just be imagining it so you brush it off without another thought.

the woman giggles a bit before responding, “alright, and what about you, young man?”

woonhak answers, “i’ll get the same thing, thank you.”

the older lady nods and leaves with a suspicious smile.

“so…”you start. “how did you find this place?”

he leans on the back of his chair. “an old friend of mine! i heard the dumplings are delicious and, well, how could i resist?”

you nod, “true, true. i’d never pass up a good dumpling.”

“i mean it, by the way,” he says, switching to a more serious tone.

you tilt your head slightly. “what?”

he continues, “for getting me out of detention. thank you.”

you shrug. “well… it was kind of my fault anyway. plus, you followed up with food afterwards.”

“right.. right…” he teases.

he looks at you gently, and you feel like his stare become less and less unbearable as time passes. or maybe it never was, and you just don’t want to accept that.

“hey! you just said you couldn’t resist this place so don’t judge me,” you scowl.

he grins and the two of wait for the food to come while conversing over random topics.

when your food comes, both of you dig in immediately.

“this is insane. how does something taste so heavenly?” you comment on it.

you don’t realize how comfortable you’ve become around woonhak or how it has even gotten to this point so fast. in a way, it just happened in a natural fashion.

plus, if you were completely honest—dead serious, honest—you can already feel his warmth rising inside you. you don’t know much about this boy in front of you who wears his heart on his chest (which he may not be fully aware of) and has a smile where his teeth stick out just the smallest bit, but you want to. you want to get to know every single detail about him.

he grins in response to your words and for a second you’re convinced his laugh is like music to your ears.

as the two of you are eating, the older lady comes up to your table again.

“how are we enjoying the food?” she asks.

you nod in a fast manner. “very good!” you hum, “it makes me crave sikhye..”

woonhak’s head snaps to you in a blink of an eye.

“what?” he says, dumpling still in his mouth.

you frown, “what?”

the two of you pause, eyes meeting for what feels like an eternity.

then, you hear a loud laugh.

the older lady still stands at your table, chuckling and holding her stomach as if it’s going burst open.

you raise an eyebrow, looking at her in confusion.

“oh, are you two funny!” her laughs slow, “mister kim woonhak, i think you’ve found the one!”

his eyes widen. “ma’am!”

she leans closer to you, whispering in your ear, “this boy you’re here with, kim woonhak,” she gestures to woonhak, “is here to test you.”

your mouth hangs open slightly. “test… me?”

woonhak digs his face into his hands, groaning.

she nods. “you ordered his favorite dish, you noticed this place’s design, and now you’ve just put the cherry on top—the sikhye.”

you slowly turn to woonhak.

“is this true?”

“yes…” his voice is muffled.

you begin to laugh, but it turns to a loud, almost obnoxious (to woonhak) one.

woonhak has this plan. he takes his newly met and possible partner to this exact dumpling spot, sees if they have similar tastes as him, has a hopefully engaging conversation, and decides afterwards if he likes the potential development that is there. he usually does, but still does the test anyways.

and if the subject just happens to order the same thing as him, order sikhye in the middle of eating, and notices the atmosphere of the restaurant, it might just be meant to be.

you so happen to have done all of these things.

and in response to this, woonhak turns tantrum mode.

“agh! this is so embarrassing…” his words are somewhat incomprehensible.

“woonhak.. it’s okay,” you giggle.

he looks up from his hands.

you hum. “i guess it’s just fate, huh? we might be meant to be.”

woonhak’s eyes widen with a subtle glimmer in them.

and finally, woonhak sees a hint of light. love no longer feels like it is going to end with a sappy, strange, or stupid reason at all; and he hopes desperately that it is all going to be because of you.

please do not copy, repost, or translate.

perm taglist: @bambisnc @mungbeancoups @starriniqhts @stantxtforabetterlife bnd taglist: @uncasings @oowir net: @kstrucknet

check out my other works!

[dinonugget-s]

(They long to be) Close to You

So this is like a little one shot? It might be apart of a bigger fanfic soon (by the same title). But i wanted to get this out

ronance, panic attack, comfort, mentions of upside down trauma, cursing. no official ronance, just a realization

"So how are you and Steve?" Nancy asks, and Robin feels her very soul leave her body at the question. Nancy notices the difference in her body language and changes hers too, ready to backup her question.

"Its just that, its the second near death experience that you guys have had together. Some feelings must have devloped."

Robin didn't understand why she had to defend her own friendship with everybody. Why no one could take what they were at face value, best friends and nothing more. Sure they were a little touchy, but after the lives that they've both suffered through, before and after the Upside Down buisness, she felt they earned a little skinship.

Then it dawned on Robin, she was going to have come out over and over and over again. Whether it be once to multiple people, or multiple times to the same person. They were always going to confuse her relationship with Steve, or always going to assume that she had some type of feelings for a boy when it couldn't be anymore the opposite.

"Listen, Nance- can I call you Nance? Okay. I love Steve, with all of my heart, but there is nothing romantic about that love. He's my best friend, my platonic soulmate, my partner in crime. But i do not want to kiss him." Was this the speech she was going to have to make every time? Was she eventually going to have to scream out the words: "I'm a lesbian! I like girls! Boobies!"

"Well why not? Sure, Steve and I didn't end up working out, but there wasn't anything wrong with him. And I've notciced just how much he's grown, too." She angles Robin with a stare that sends chills down the older girls spine and she questions if its worth it to argue with her. Nancy Wheeler was never wrong.

But, no, Robin needed to make her stance on this once a for all. And well, if Nancy had a problem with it, she wouldn't have to see her again. Ever. "Steve's great, and if anyone is the most proud of how much he's grown as a person, its me. But.. I'm not like you, Nancy-"

"What's that supposed to mean?" The shorter girl grew defensive quickly. Robin was quick to shake her head. "Nothing, nothing, just that.. I'd like Steve a lot more if he was a sh-Tevie"."

Way to fucking go Rob. Chicken out on the pronouns last second and make it sound like you have a lisp that she definitely knew you didn't have before. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Nancy's eyes narrowed and she tilted her head. "What does his name have anything to do with it? Plus Eddie calls him Stevie all the time." And it took every ounce of the little restraint Robin had left in her being to not roll her eyes to the moon.

There was nothing straight about whatever was going on between Eddie and Steve. Steve may not have realized it yet, and Robin is just waiting for him to come to terms with the idea that he also might not be straight. But that would happen on its own time. Regardless, she thought Nancy Wheeler was smart, but she's acting just as clueless as Steve first did when she came out to him.

"Nancy," she started, but the words got caught in her throat. She didn't know if she could say it, she talks a lot of game about not caring what people think. But she really fucking cares, all the time. And Nancy feels like the first girl after Kate that she thinks she can really get along with. Even though she didn't feel like she totally beloned around Kate. Nancy is someone she doesn't feel like she has to hide all her weirdness from. Like, look at her brother, her ex-boyfriend, the gaggle of people that she has chosen to surround herself with, despite having the ability to say that she doesn't want anything to do with them.

But then there's the fact of her family. They're your typical nuclear family with typical nuclear family values. And maybe Nancy can stomach the idea of interdimensional monsters from a scary parallel universe that comes back every year to attack them, but the idea of having a lesbian in her Hawkins was way too much for her.

"Rob?" Rob, Nancy had never called her that before. Which means she was on nickname level now. Did she want to lose that over something as small (well, not small) as liking girls. Was doing this worth it? She dated Steve, though, right? She was the main one that brought out the good in him, made him realize that he didn't want to be like his family. And Dustin, too, Dustin definitely helped him.

Everything around Robin was blurry. Never has she ever wished so bad to be drugged by the Russians again. After the drugs, it seemed like her nerves were calmed for just the second that she felt safe enough to tell her big secret. She expected the worst, but hoped for the best. It's what she should do now, right?

It felt like she was on the elevator again, the world plumetting down from beneath her and sending her so far deep underground, but this time there were no little humans to help save her. There was no Steve to help fight for her or take the brunt of the pain.

Robin couldn't breathe, all that was coming out of her was weezing. She was clutching the blankets beneath her like they were a lifeline, but there were offering no support whatsoever.

She hasn't had one this bad since the first few months after Starcourt. When her and Steve were inseperable and snuck out to each others houses every night. She didn't know why this was affecting her this much.

Calm down

The words were far away and didn't sound like anybody she knew. Was she talking to herself from within her mind?  Like an out of body experience.

Robin, come back to me

It was dark. Wait, when did she close her eyes? Her eyes were closed right?

Open. Open. Open.

Finally, her eyes opened, allowing a flood of light to invade her ocular receptors. Brown hair was in front of her, and she could finally understand that Nancy was the one that was talking to her. She was still struggling to breathe, sounding like she was having an astma attack, and her cheeks felt wet.

Fuck, she was crying.

Nancy had her hands on her shoulders, rubbing her thumbs up and down. "Good, good Rob. Alright. Can you try and breathe with me?" Robin nodded as best she could, watching Nancy's mouth in order to try and make sense of the words she was saying. Her ears stopped completely working a second ago.

"In 2, 3" The brunetted reapeated over and over again. It wasn't until about the sixth time did Robin finally get the rhythm of it, and the fifteenth time did she finally get her heart rate to calm down. "Alright," Nance said, her hand going to Robins head and raking through her hair. "Let's lay you down, and im going to get you some water."

She gently pushed the taller girl back onto her bed and made sure the pillow was comfortable under her neck before leaving her alone to get the water she mentioned.

Robin still felt the effects of the panic attack  Her breathing was shaky and hands were trembling, and she felt light headed. But she was back to normal, as normal as she could be. Her mind was beginning to work properly, and now she just felt pathetic. There was no reason for her to freak out the way that she did.

Robin knew about the tiny Byers. Was able to figure him out with just a sideways glance, and she knew that Jonathan knew too. Nancy was surrounded by the weird. She wouldn't have had a visceral reaction and Robin knew that. But she just couldn't bring herself to say those words in front of Nancy Wheeler.

But she couldn't lie to her, especially after this. Even if she did react badly, it would be better to do it now than when they got closer. Robin didn't want Nancy to lose another friend. Which is crazy to think about, she's the one who's putting her life on the line because of the gender she's into, but she's worried about the mental state of the girl who she's avoided like the plauge the first 17 years of her life.

She heard the click of the door and slowly began to sit up, Nancy was there with the water in her hand like she'd promised, and some candies that Robin didn't recognize. "Hey," Nancy said quietly, sitting on the side of the bed and holding the water out to the other girl. "Some water, and even though your calmed down some, the sour candies will shock your system a little bit."

Robin smiled softly, taking a sip of the water and holding the candies in her hands. After swallowing, she wiped her mouth and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry.. about.. that." She mumbled, and Nancy was quick to shake her head.

"Don't you dare. I don't know what happened to trigger it, and you don't have to tell me. I won't push on the Steve subject anymore, though. I'm sorry if it's what caused you to panic." Robin was shocked. It seemed like Nancy did nothing but shock her since they started being around each other more.

"I promise, one day Ill tell you. Maybe soon, maybe into the far far furture." As if she could keep this a secret that long. Nancy simply smiles and reaches for Robins hand,  giving it a squeeze and rubbing her thumb along it. "How are you feeling now?"

Right now? Her heart was in her throat, but not  entirely in the panic attack kind of way. More in the same way that she realized maybe she did have romantic feelings for Tammy. This time though, she realized all on her own, and not by Tammy's friends finding the french-written note about her dream escapades with the singer.

Seriously, Robin? A girl is nice to you a couple of times and you get feelings for her? Get a grip.

A nervous chuckle (a giggle?) falls from her lips. "Much better, honestly. How did you know what to do?" As soon as the question was in the air, she realized how stupid it had sounded. Nancy had dealt with this longer than Robin had, was at the heart of discovering the Upside Down and what the party had called 'demogorgons.' Which she was glad to have not experienced. 

Although, maybe she would have liked to work her way up from the bottom, rather than having started with the Russian's torturing her and then being chased by a 100ft monster through the woods on the fourth of July. She's pretty sure all of them had some sort of PTSD that rivaled war veterans.

But Nancy didn't seem too bothered by the question, didn't even give it a second thought. "Jonathan helped me through my first few ones, then we eventually helped each other, and I started helping Mike." She stood up from the bed and started to look through her closet, almost as though she was trying to avoid making eye contact. "I um.. did you want to stay the night?"

Robin felt like maybe she was going to have another actual panic attack. But oh my god did she want to have a sleepover. There was something about being around Nancy that made Robin never want to leave her orbit, but she also wanted to put herself at as far of a distance that she could without seeming like she didn't want Nancy around. She thinks that her possible new found feelings might be the reason.

The right answer would be no, she can't.

"Yeah!" Robin blurted out before she could even stop herself. She wanted to smack herself upside the head, she actually wanted to curbstomp herself, beat herself up because why would she agree. "My uh.. my parents need me to shampoo my dog. But I'll be back later tonight. If that's... okay?" 

She doesn't have a dog.

Nancy beamed at her, holding her pajamas in her arms. "Yeah, that's perfectly fine." Robin was quick to jump to her feet, loosing her balance a little due to still being slightly lightheaded. "I'll be right back," she made a little salute and attempted to run out of the room without seeming like she was running. (She ended up tripping through about half of the stairs.)

She didn't realize it until she was about half way to Steve's house, but she was biking with exuberant speed. Four times as fast than she'd done before and her legs were on fire, but not any worse than the blaze that was in her lungs. She should have waited just a little longer for her lungs to have recovered before racing half way across the town to her best friends house.

She made sure that his parents weren't randomly in town, dropped her bike on his front steps, and started pounding on his door.

It took about three minutes before he opened the door, wearing a shirt that definitely wasn't his-but that was something for later. He was groggy, rubbing his eyes. "Rob?"

"I think I like Nancy fucking Wheeler."

[sylveon-official]

Huskerdust mpreg wip 3

Part 2 here!

Lucifer chews on the finger of his glove as he mumbles, looking back and forth between Angel perched on the bed and the ultrasound pictures in his hand. Charlie sits beside him in an unwavering show of support, but the nervous shake of her hand clasped in his isn’t really helping.

“Ohhh. Mmm, okay, I see. Oh boy… again?” 

“Again?” Angel and Charlie cry out, shooting worried looks at one another.

“What the fuck do you mean again? This happen often? Isn’t not being able to get knocked up supposed to be, like, divine punishment around here?!”

Of course, Angel had always considered that logic a bit backwards, especially with his profession. He had no idea how demon biology really worked, but he’d seen enough visibly pregnant Hellborns of myriad genders in his time in Hell to be secretly grateful he’d never had to worry about it. Well, until now.

“Well, yes…” Lucifer scratches the side of his cheek, gaze nervously flitting from side to side. “But, you see, from time to time we have experienced… let’s call them… little miracles, here in the Pride Circle!”

Angel scoffs, about to reply with scathing comment about the contradiction when Charlie places a steady hand on his shoulder and gently cuts in, “When is the last time this happened, Dad?”

Lucifer blows out a breath, and tuts his tongue as he counts on his fingers. “Oh, maybe 1000 years ago? Give or take. Doesn’t happen so often, could probably count the amount of times it has on two hands, but —?”

Angel groans. Lucifer or not, this guy has a way of beating around the bush that Angel sure doesn’t appreciate. 

“Come on, cut to the chase shortstack - Why?” Angel asks, exasperated. 

Charlie reprimands him lightly with a gasp of his name while Lucifer zeroes in on him with a narrow glare.

“I’m going to chalk that one up to hormones, and let that one slide.” 

When Angel simply shoots him a dull look, Lucifer quickly gathers up his broken ego and carries on, this time in a more serious tone, “Listen, I wish I had an answer for you kid, but… I’ve never really been able to figure it out myself.”

Angel quickly deflates, sudden heat building up behind his eyes again. Great. Not only is he the first pregnant Sinner Demon in a Millenia, but he doesn’t even get an explanation?

Apparently sensing his downturn in mood, Charlie squeezes Angel’s hand and pries further, “Dad, if this has happened more than once, there has to be something you know. Even a just a theory?”

Lucifer hesitates, fiddling with his cane. “Well… there is one I’ve considered, but… don’t put too much stock into it,” he explains defensively, and Angel looks back up at him, tentatively intrigued.

“So, you know how conception happens… up there, right?” Lucifer cups his hand around his mouth and whispers conspiratorially.

Angel furrows his brows. “No, how the fuck should I-”

“Oh, um!” Charlie cuts in, her own brow furrowed in thought. “Something about ‘built-in’ birth control, right? You and your partner will only conceive if it’s something you both long for. So romantic!” She swoons, pressing her cheek against Angel’s shoulder. She quickly rights herself to add to her father’s assessment, “So if that’s how it works with Redeemed Souls, then maybe… maybe it doesn’t matter whether you’re in Heaven or Hell, since now we know that’s a total crapshoot… maybe it has to do with the goodness inside of the soul itself!”

Angel’s eyes narrow as he parses the words in his head, refusing to acknowledge the latter half of Charlie’s rambling. 

“So lemme get this straight… you’re tellin’ me, this is literally some ‘when two people love each other very much’ kinda bull shit?! Who the fuck would I—” 

Angel’s voice gets stuck in his throat as a very clear image of of the potential culprit poofs into his mind's eye. 

Luckily, Lucifer and Charlie take his short-circuiting as general shock. Charlie coos and pulls him close while Lucifer backtracks, “Like I said, it’s just a theory - I’ve got no proof to back it up. For all I know, this is the Big Whatever Upstairs’ way of fuckin’ with us—”

Angel stands up, ignoring the way Lucifer flinches as he towers over him and Charlie face-plants onto the bed without his support.

“I gotta go,” Angel says, balling his hands up into fists, nails digging into his palms uncomfortably. 

He swipes the photos from off of his desk, throws open the door and briskly walks down the hallway, Charlie’s worried shouts falling on deaf ears.

He takes the stairs to the lobby two by two, picking up his pace so he doesn’t lose his nerve by the time he reaches his destination. 

When he stalks up to the bar, heart pounding and out of breath, Husk simply glances up from the glass he’s polishing and plasters on a teasing, lopsided grin, just like he's done every time Angel has stormed up to his bar at any and all hours of the day and night. 

Husk cocks his head and lifts a brow, the deep timbre vibrating across the walls, “Wanna talk about it, Legs?”

Angel’s heart thumps and his cheeks flood with heat.

“Fuck.”

[drawnthejayys]

Meet my BLU Team OCs !!

Info/Bios under cut!

Dr. Warin Kölher

• Born in Mannheim, Germany

• Team Leader, some refer to him as "Mother Hen" because of his protective motherly attitude

• Lost his medical degree early because he kept experiencing near death situations around his workplace, they thought it was becoming too dangerous even though nobody else was affected 💀

• Survived hell and back more than once (literally) before becoming a mercenary

• Happy face pin on his hat expresses his emotions somehow?¿

• Not a demon or anything, trust me!!!!!

• Likes crows, wants one as a pet

• Says he has a rare skin condition (is lying)

Jenny Thomas

• Sees Dr. Kölher as a parental figure

• "IF AUTISM DIDN'T EXIST, GOD WOULD NOT HAVE CREATED ME!" /ref /j

• Actually born in Canada, does not know

• Sent to Michigan (in a box) as a baby and grew up there

• Collector of many things (rocks, sticks, nuts n bolts)

• Can be very trigger happy especially on the battlefield

• Dr. Kölher gives her star stickers when he's good, he sticks them in his helmet (is tryin to collect 50 of them 🇺🇲)

• Owns chewelry because she has a biting problem but easily breaks through all of them in less than a week

Mason

• nickname: mason jar

• If Mundy listened to midwest emo (/hj)

• Look, we don't know how they escaped New Zealand when its currently at the bottom of the ocean but we don't ask

• Laid-back but lazy at times, takes a lot of naps

• Smokes more weed than Spy smoking cigarettes /hj

• Dumpster diver

• Their Jarate skills kinda go crazy

• Games with Junior, they love first-person shooters

Spy (alias: Rune)

• Get half filipino'd loser🇵🇭🇵🇭🇵🇭🇵🇭🇵🇭

• Backup strategist for when things go to shit but also the last resort for a lot of things unfortunately

• Anxiety ridden, visits the doc often

• Good at stabbing, not much with shooting

• Acknowledges Scout as his son but is a very awkward dad. He's trying at least

• A hopeless romantic and has been looking for a partner since the divorce(tm)

• Smokes but is trying to quit, often been seen with a toothpick instead of a cigarette

• Autistic just like me fr, stims with his butterfly knife

Dallas

• Tough cowboy, doesn't play around

• "Watch your piehole son or imma SLAP YOU SILLY."

• Probably the sanest in the team

• Grumpy-pants who needs a break

• Very "tough love" kind of father figure

• "MY TEAMMATES ARE ALL MORONS!!!!" /ref /j

• Homophobic homosexual (/j)

• Despite his name, he might not even be Texan

• Tolerates Dr. Kölher the most

Dymitry (Mitya)

• Here to do his job, nothing more

• Intimidating just like the OG Heavy

• Fond of animals and small creatures

• Actually quite calm, its hard to piss him off

• He has a soft spot for Jenny and Meeka and buys them snacks on the weekends

• Jenny calls him Mitts!

Junior

• Transmasc bastard

• He'll beat your ass (for fun!)

• Good friends with Sniper, they listen to music and play video games together!

• Knows Spy is his dad and is very nonchalant about it, much to Spy's dismay ("I am your fathe-" "Whatever, don't care, didn't ask")

• Has braces paid for by Spy but has to leave base monthly to go to an actual dentist because Dr. Kölher didn't wanna keep seeing him cry whenever he had to get his braces tightened

•Still has buck teeth :3

Meeka

• Your honour, they're just a little guy

• Hangs around Mitya to keep him company, theyre the best of friends!

• Goes on crazy killing sprees with Jenny during matches

• Ongoing beef/goof-off with the RED Team's Pyro

• Pinkie Pie energy!!

• Dallas is their (adoptive) dad!

Angus

• Superstitious about a lot of things but keeps it to himself

• For some reason is always very warm which is why he's shirtless 90% of the time

• Has some amazing tits ngl

• Will wear a dress to the function and be the hottest one there

• His fav food is burber 🍔

• Loves hard rum and scotch (its important to me that all my demo ocs have a fav alcoholic beverage)

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

That's all of them! I hope you like them :3

[godlygivenanxiety]

Okay, listen. Just gimme a second here on the whys of William Schenk's introduced persona(enormous case building for a headcanon incoming, be warned!).

We could go on and on about the reason of why William decided to present himself as a married man; in the context of evoking a sense of companionship, there's something to be said about the social pressures and the status of being married. Zeke's quick to talk about what being married means to a cop after all— although it's also curious that he presents himself as happily married, a dedicated father while Zeke himself's going through custody fights and a divorce.

It does make me think of what William wants Zeke to understand about him, ready for serious commitment and sharing responsabilities, he's willing to put in the work so to speak. There's a softer, loving and protective side of him — one he hasn't shared with many ever since his father's death, I bet — that he'll gladly show Zeke(and we only see him talk about his fake family with him).

But that's not enough of a motive, so let's go for the angle of what marriage represents.

Marriage's not just a symbolic, romantic act but the union of two citizens, both Zeke and William giving the impression during Spiral that they do perceive it as something that's supposed to be a conscious choice you make that has value, it's worth it; William could've presented himself as married then not just to show that he's 100% for loyalty and commitment but also that he's not that kid Zeke backstabbed Dunleavy for anymore.

He's not William Emmerson and he doesn't need Zeke to protect him or confuse the child he was to the man he is now(which adds another layer to his relishing of Zeke's anger and acceptance of each blow, the rawness of the moment leaves nothing to interpretation, they are in EQUAL standing—); he's evolved since their last time together. Zeke, none the wiser, eases his worries slightly when dismissing William's comment:

"Hey, man, I get it. I wouldn't want to be stuck with a kid either."

[Zeke stops to really look at him.]

"You don't want to be my partner."

Which he says after probably hearing Zeke's commentary(they weren't really trying to be quiet in there) on showing the ropes to a rookie, saying he doesn't want to be a 'nanny'. A subtle poke to Zeke's apparent expectations of him— testing the waters as if to see how much of a problem this will be. It's not about age though, or really about William in itself(as I've theorized in another post) and William proves himself valuable in the little time they have, as evidenced by Zeke's own words.

"Hey, William. Good work today."

There's the 'easiest assumption' that William really just used it as a disguise for the tattoo of his father's name but there's no logical need for a loving wife there. Or a son for that matter— he could've tattooed the name of a sibling Zeke would vaguely hear about or a nephew; it would still hold the weight of someone that William supposedly goes back to when leaving the job, give Zeke a burden to carry in terms of thinking of a young detective with a family that he couldn't save.

So. It makes me think, that perhaps William just holds in himself so much hope for what they can be. So much faith in their connection, there's no one else for him but Zeke and he has known this for years. William's cunning and confident, he doesn't lie to himself about what he knows to be true but there lies an issue— well, isn't it him insisting Zeke's unfortunate predicament isn't an universal truth of life?

[Chuckles] "Just because you’re getting a divorce, it doesn’t mean that everyone else’s marriages have to end, too."

Which roughly matches their earlier talk, when he interjects Zeke's bitter perspective on it:

"'While it lasts'?"

"Nothing happier than the wife of a new detective, nothing more angry than that same bitch ten years later."

"Maybe it’s ’cause you call them bitches."

The same way William's invested in taking Zeke by his shoulders and shoving him out of his defeated attitude towards the corruption in the system and guiding him to action, he's also prodding at Zeke's waning faith in partnership. It's not because his marriage didn't last that Zeke's never going to find the one person capable of staying loyal to him to the end... that he won't realize what he needs is right in front of him.

William's hopeful, obsessively devoted and has specifically planned his killing spree with luring Zeke, having him by his side, in mind… so, if he presents himself as a married man? If his and Zeke's hands rest close together on the table in whatever place they'd stopped for lunch or at Zeke's desk, when they squeeze next to each other to watch the spiral killer's tape, and their golden bands look just about similar enough to be a pair… it's just bound to be.

[princelylove]

hello its everyones favourite slightly unstable 🌸 anon here to comment on everyones least favourite dinosaur-- diego brando!

listen. LISTEN. hes stupid and silly and also has mummy issues. and what do boys who are stupid and silly and have mummy issues look in a partner? SOMEONE THAT RESEMBLES THEIR MOTHER AND ACTS LIKE THEIR MOTHER!

thoughts, your highness?

your favourite peon,

🌸

Peon? That pleases me, anon. I don’t know about my favourite, though. I’m imagining you screaming the last bit and then stepping off of your soap box to gently ask. 

I was just thinking about how I haven’t seen you recently, and now here you are. Do you often come when called? 

I already wrote a little bit about Diego here, but let’s do a little deep dive into his psyche. 

Diego is another yandere I can see picking either a familial or romantic darling. Either way you will not escape the “I’ll never love you more than my mother.” conversation. 

You’re right, anon. He misses his mother. Diego does not really want to be caught up needing someone, it isn’t in his nature to seek someone out and actually keep them. He uses people as tools and then disposes of them as necessary- human life is truly worthless to him. But… his mother is not all of humanity. His mother isn’t one of those vile creatures. Do you know what he is looking for? Mother dearest. Mama. Mommy. He craves someone who is going to coddle him- baby him. Diego loves special treatment, and there’s nothing more special than family. It’s unconditional. (Meaning it won’t abandon him.) He knows that, logically, his mother will never return to him. Is that going to stop him from looking? No. 

You’re what Diego considers to be what mankind should’ve been- and will be, once he’s taken his rightful place on top of it all. He likely found a Mother-esque darling in the race. You don't have to be motherly, you just have to remind him of his mother. It certainly would help him make the connection, though. You might’ve offered him a bit of your food, or water, or suggested he come sit by the fire you made. What a provider. He scoffs, but obeys, and doesn’t exactly resist your advances- he allows you to drape a blanket over him, and only moves your hand away when you’re “being too handsy.” 

His complex isn’t as apparent as someone like Narancia or God-fucking-forbid Jotaro, in a romantic relationship at least. But in a familial relationship? So evident. He doesn’t even hide the constant comparisons. Diego gets it out of his system via constantly comparing the two of you. You made dinner? Mother did it this way, why don’t you do it like that. Why do you keep your hair so short? It’d look better past your shoulders. 

But it’s different if Diego’s love is romantic. He is insatiable. He’s not going to get in your face about taking care of his every need. That’s not what a lover does. He just reacts very, very well to it. He is baffled by the notion that someone’s brain doesn’t rot at the mention of his name, or at the smell of his cologne. In his point of view, the world is his, and humanity consists only of the pigeons that he must guide- it makes sense that he reacts so well to praise and attention and gifts… He just reacts a little too well to it. That’s all. 

If you got out of his lovely estate- say thank you to his ex wife, you know, someone who actually spoiled him- Diego will hunt you down on one of his prized horses. He truly doesn’t mind travelling for as long as he has to, he cannot allow you to ever leave his sight- God (him) forbid anything happens to you and he isn’t there. Diego isn’t the most protective, he’s actually never felt that way towards anyone else before. Who matters more than him? He just doesn’t want someone else to hurt you.  But you’ll have some privacy. Diego is big on dignity- he loves someone who holds themself with pride. Does that mean that he has shame? No. Call him Dio. Brush his hair, treat him like a king. Hold his face in your hands and give him all the attention he’s craving, love him, adore him.

[kittykatkatelol2]

"Fake Dating" Jegulus & Bartylus Microfic (Pt 1)

Fake dating AU if not obvious lol- I've been wanting to do a fake dating AU for a long time and I am actually really happy with how it turned out !! :)

Also technically sprouted from the prompt "coffee" by @jegulus-microfic so yeah-- hope you enjoy !

-

James handed Regulus the cup of just brewed coffee, giving him a small half smile.

"So, James, this plan of yours, you say would allow me to make Barty jealous by fake dating you. What would be in it for you? Why would you ever agree to this; what do you want in return?"

James pauses, taking a sip of his cappuccino to give him time to think.

"Well," James starts, "One, I would be able to spend copious amounts of time with you, and two, I might be able to do the same thing you will be doing, for Lily."

"You still like her then?"

"Of course," James lied. He knew a lost cause when he saw it, and there was no way he'd ever land Lily. He'd gotten over her years ago.

James really wanted Regulus to feel the same way he felt.

In love with the other, but James knew Regulus felt nothing romantic about him, just his brother's annoying friend, but maybe, just maybe, if they went at this 'fake dating' thing for long enough, he would have a shot at Regulus's heart before Barty takes it completely.

Regulus nods, taking a sip from his plain black coffee, thinking over this.

"If you really are up to it, then sure. But there will be ground rules, for the both of us. Do we have a deal, Potter?"

James wished Regulus would call him James, not just his last name, but said nothing about it and just said, "We have a deal, Regulus."

. . .

They had both made their ground rules - AKA boundaries - and were set to start. Around a month or two into James's fifth year (Regulus's fourth), they started their show.

Whenever Barty was around, a known gossip such as Rita Skeeter, or anyone could let the rumors spread, they would let slip the smallest of hand holding, nice words whispered in a way that their words would carry over to listeners, small shows of affection, so on so forth.

James's feelings for Regulus only got stronger for the months they did this, their shows getting more and more noticable to people, gaining glances from some, whispers from others.

He just wished he knew how Regulus felt, how he was feeling about this whole ordeal; if Regulus would ever see him as more than a fake partner, in reality an annoying person he was forced to hang around. He wished he could tell, but alas, he could not.

So they continued this show for nearly a year, when finally after weeks of glares from the Slytherin Skittles as they called themselves, most noticeable of the bunch, Barty, Regulus finally decided to take things into his own hands and make a scene for all to see.

. . .

It was one of the infamous Slytherin Common Room parties. Either everyone was drunk, or dancing, or both. Gryffindors, Slytherins, Ravenclaws, even a few Hufflepuffs were there, having the time of their lifes.

All eyes were on James and Regulus who were together, Regulus made sure Barty was watching, before giving James the most passionate kiss he could manage.

James, unaware that Barty was even watching, gave all that he had to Regulus in that moment, forgetting in the heat of it all that it was in fact, not real. That it was just a show, and thing to play with his and Barty's heartstrings.

When they finally broke away, hands on each other, looking deep into each others' eyes; James had never been more in love.

They both felt the stares of all people in the room who weren't past out.

James was finally snapped back to reality, his heart completely broken all over again when Regulus leaned over into his ear and whispered, "We did it. We broke him. Now I just got to go pick up the pieces. Thank you, Potter."

James's world collapsed in on itself, numb and frozen as Regulus moved out of his grip to go find Barty, who had since left because of the kiss.

It had felt so real to James.. But now he knew there was nothing but a show to Regulus.

James quickly excused himself, leaving the party entirely to maybe find Remus or Peter to talk to. Or to just cry alone in a corner somewhere. Both were reasonable enough options, he just needed to leave, now.

Which he did.

Because now he knew, his feelings were all but onesided, and there was little hope to change that.

James Potter loved Regulus Black, but there was nothing he could do for him to love him back.

-

[Word count: 747]

[starz4valen]

queers im fucking lost come save me

ok but in all seriousness,

despite labeling myself as aroace for a hot minute and finding comfort in that label and the community for a time—shit doesnt feel quite right anymore.

i have had ONE EX. one.

i genuinely think i was in love with him. i only felt what i felt with him,,,WITH HIM. nobody else. I felt the butterflies/giddiness, i loved his laugh, his smile, hearing him, his jokes, all the names he would call me, how much he said he loved me, our late night discord calls, having him around, just. him. when he rarely spoke abt shit that was bothering him it hurt me so bad, like i would hurt with him. and the mere THOUGHT of ME hurting him made me wanna sob.

as you can probably guess by the fact we’re exes, we’re not together anymore. it hurts. hell, my stomach tangled a bit as i typed that out. (could be cause recently someone who used to be a friend went and dated him and then got upset at me for getting upset at them but this ain't abt them.)

we broke up in like june last year, and i felt so fucking horrible about it bc it basically ended w him yelling at me over text at how horrible i am at listening and how i treated him more like a therapist—which i will admit i did. i sucked for that. it makes sense why tho, i was working through a lot of shit at the time, doesn’t justify it at all though. i should’ve treated him better. im desperately trying to fix it in my current relationships so that never happens again.

then again, he also treated me badly. he said things that really fucked with my sense of trust in people and just made me scared to get close with anyone like that ever again, or in general bc i was convinced everyone had some ulterior motive w me or secretly didnt give a shit abt me—but also i felt *I* was the problem. like every relationship im in is gonna end horribly bc im just that bad. its taken a lot to say that i feel loved by and trust my current friends, as well as trying to recognize that I deserve love, and im glad i can say that im getting better ^^

but,,,idk anymore

i concluded i was aroace almost a year after we broke up. there were a couple reasons. for one, i only really got that close w him. i dont really know if ive had a crush or what that feels like—in fact i think i faked one in elementary, the whole reason i got w my ex was bc he was flirting w me and it made me feel nice. (also bc i was worried he would be my only shot at love but i digress) i feel off when people talk about heading to poundtown or anything like that, the same with crushes—just crushes tho relationships i totally get—and i still struggle to wrap my head around attraction and how people just can look at someone without even knowing them at ALL and go “you. i want you.”

i wrote off how i felt when i was with him as simply some non-romantic form of attraction and called it a day.

but recently ive been reflecting on that, and i think i was wrong. the way that even now i get all these emotions by merely talking abt my ex says something. how upset seeing that "friend" going ahead and dating him after barely knowing him and just how angry i was says something. the way i cried seeing my best friend get a whole small crate of presents from their partner for their bday bc i was THAT JEALOUS says something. the way i yearn for affection and to be loved again says something. the way im starting to miss being in love again says something. the way i would always want some sort of relationship—even when i identified as aroace—but just never thought it would happen bc i didn't feel pretty enough, or mentally well enough, deserving of one, or like id ever be lucky enough to find someone who makes me feel that way again and how scared and sad that makes me,,,says something.

now in terms of poundtown—legit dunno. closest to that I've done w anyone was neck kisses from my ex, which i did really enjoy—but also i legit identified as ace like the whole time we were together and the few times he made jokes like that i felt uncomfy. plus the only way i feel i could be ok w going further w something like that is if its either excessively gentle or the most unserious thing ever. so tbh if i had to take a guess on how i feel abt that—not too keen on it.

I'm debating a couple labels, bi, aroace, bi and ace, demirose, and demirose and bi, but tbh i feel bi kinda fits the most? (maybe???) but also it doesn't. idk if its the fear of opening my mind to me being in a relationship despite my fear of intimacy and commitment or just that I'm aroace and this is my brain telling me to stop overthinking shit—but i know i wanna figure this shit out

if anyone has like legit any words of advice PLEASE send it my way. i will take even the tiniest crumb of guidance cause i am more lost than a child in ikea.

thanks to anyone who read all this <3

[cookiewoli]

Moon's whisperer - chap 3

"So? Well? What did you say to each other?"

Panah waved her legs back and forth under the table. This annoyed Elsie, but out of respect she said nothing. Panah's energy was annoying for once; she stared at her intently with a big, goofy smile..

She finished her mouthful of meat and sighed:

"Nothing much. I just mentioned my life in Sandrock."

The day before, Elsie had shed every tear in her body when she confided in Cassius. That idiot. She'd rather have told Panah, maybe she'd have comforted her, or said something. Cassius, on the other hand, said nothing. But he just listened until the end. When Elsie finished crying, he walked her back to her tent, retrieved his jacket, and said:

"See ya."

She didn't know how to react. Maybe, inside, he was laughing at her, at seeing her cry. Or maybe he didn't care about her story. Or both? Both, no doubt.

"Panah… I was wondering, why don't you stop defending Cassius in every situation?"

Elsie stared intently at Panah. She jerked her head back, as if she hadn't expected the question. She deflected her gaze several times, before looking Elsie straight in the eye.

"What do you mean by that?

-You're always saying how nice he is, that we shouldn't hold his behavior against him, that we should get to know him…"

Panah's cheeks began to flush. She let out nervous little giggles; it was clear she was uncomfortable.

"I say that because this morning he smashed one of the merchants to the ground, for some reason. With him, it doesn't take much to piss him off… What's your excuse this time?

-Maybe he was… He was in a bad mood? Or maybe the merchant did something to him!

-You see, Panah? You're defending him again!"

Elsie pounded her fist on the table. Sure, she was a lot younger than Panah, but she wasn't dumb. Panah clearly seemed to have feelings (whatever they were) for Cassius. But what were they? Pity? Friendship? Amusement? Love…?

"I… It's just that… Everyone keeps calling him with every rude name that exist. Everyone sees him as a freak, ass*ole, no one wants to go near him, and that's why he's always alone. On top of that, all the boys in the camp hate him just because he has a certain popularity with the girls…"

Panah had lowered the tone of her voice for this last sentence. She sipped her berry juice, looking off into the distance.

"His… Popularity with the girls?

Elsie repeated.

-Hmm… you know… He's not… He's… He's kinda…

-Handsome? Is that what you're going to say?

Panah spat out her mouthful of juice.

-No! Well, yes a little! I wouldn't have said it like that…"

Elsie thought about it. She thought about him, visualized him in her head. Physically, he's very tall and muscular. His hair looks soft, the fact that it's badly combed adds to its charm, his eyes are bright as a flame, his voice is deep and imposing… His earrings and low-tied ponytail suit him perfectly. Yeah. He's handsome. Elsie thought so. But aside from his good looks, he's a jerk.

"If he's so popular with the girls, why is he always alone? He never has company."

Panah rested her elbows on the table and ran her hands through her hair. That face, that sigh, Elsie already knew her next phrase. "It's complicated."

"It's complicated…

Bingo.

"Let's just say he's someone who appreciates… Temporary company.

Elsie didn't seem to understand. Seeing her expression, Panah searched for better words.

-A certain kind of company.

Elsie didn't react.

-One-night stand."

Elsie opened her mouth slightly to make a little "oh" before turning red. Strangely, this didn't surprise her coming from Cassius. Anyone would be popular with his appearance.

"I… I see. But… Do his partners know? That he… Has many partners?

-They all know. Cassius makes it clear that there are no romantic feelings involved. So in itself, it's not cheating I suppose…?"

To tell the truth, Elsie didn't know much about the subject. Love? The… "One-night stand." In Sandrock, apart from couples who'd already been together for years, she'd never had the opportunity to see the creation of a couple. But… what is a couple? What is love? What about cheating ? When does it start? Elsie shook her thoughts from her head and left, having finished her berry juice and dish. She seemed confused.

That evening, there was the usual gathering around the campfire. It was reminiscent of Sandrock gatherings in front of the town hall, or at the blue saloon listening to Owen's incredible stories. Ah, how she missed those gatherings. She even missed the arguments between Cooper and Hugo, and wanted so much to hear X's screams again, or Pen bragging about how perfect he was.

The meals were already ready, and everyone ate and drank to their hearts' content, laughing and chatting happily. Elsie always sits next to Panah, since she's the one with whom she has the most affinity. But her role as leader means that she has to pay attention to the whole group, one by one. She doesn't always get a chance to chat with Elsie. But she doesn't mind. She ate her yakmel ribs in silence. At first, eating them disturbed her, as she imagined the poor ranch yakmels on her plate. But hey. You've got to eat! She glanced over at Cassius, who stood across the fire from her in the distance. He was sitting next to a girl, a bottle of alcohol in his hand and a lollipop in his mouth. She couldn't hear their conversation, but the girl seemed very tactile with him. She was stroking his arm, ruffling his hair, talking into his ear… Cassius didn't react, but he didn't refuse. At one point he put his arm around her shoulders, smiling. But… That smile didn't seem real. He seemed to have a look… Empty. But maybe Elsie was just imagining things. Cassius wasn't someone who showed much emotion after all.

Towards the end of the meal, she glanced again in Cassius's direction. The girl, still at his side, grabbed his hand and spoke into his ear. Cassius laughed nervously, but the duo got up together and left. Elsie thought back to the discussion she'd had with Panah that morning. She had an idea what they were going to do this evening… It's impossible to not blushing when thinking about this. This kind of thing… Is embarrassing.

Tired, she got up to go to her tent, but froze in place. Her tent is right next to Cassius'. And he's doing some… Activities. Probably noisy. Elsie quickly turned around and returned to her seat around the fire. Panah noticed her strange attitude.

"Are you all right, Elsie?

-Y-yes! Perfectly!"

Panah turned to her. She noticed that Elsie was all red, with a panicked look on her face. She kept playing with her hands, looking around and stamping her feet on the floor…

"You don't look well. Do you want to talk about it?

She hesitated for a moment.

-Um… Cassius left with a girl, and, uh… I don't dare go to my tent.

Panah gave a nervous laugh. She'd taken the hint.

-I promise I'll find you another tent… Like I said, nobody wants to be near Cassius because of the noise. And when I said that the first time, I meant two kinds of noise."

Time passed. Elsie had time to chat with other members of the camp. She had eaten a little more and was now full. She saw Cassius' companion back around the fire, but… Alone. She had a big smile, her hair a little dishevelled, but she quickly put it back in place with the help of her friends.

"Someone got lucky tonight, as usual."

Exclaimed someone nearby.

"Fucking chad."

"He doesn't deserve this much affection."

"Pfft, he's all about looks."

Elsie was hearing all kinds of remarks. And she knew very well who was the subject of them…

Indeed, everyone here seemed to hate Cassius.

Having had enough, she got up and headed for her tent.

||

||

She passed Cassius's tent, and thought she heard a noise. It was like… Anyway, she didn't know and didn't want to know. But curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the tent to take a look inside. Cassius was sitting on the ground, bottle in hand and… He was crying. Elsie couldn't take her eyes off him. So he has emotions… she thought. But why is he crying? Did the evening go badly? Yet his partner seemed satisfied…

"I'm fed up…" he whispered, bringing the bottle to his mouth.

His sobs were light, as if he was careful not to be heard.

Elsie had to do something? Intervene? Comfort him? But if she did that, it would be to admit she was spying on him… She closed the tent and started to take a few steps away, but stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn't leave him there like that! Should she go and see Panah? No, no… She couldn't handle all his problems for her. Elsie had to stop depending on her for all her choices and actions. She turned, then turned back, before freezing and turning around. To go? Not go? Do something? Do nothing and pretend she hadn't seen anything?

She had no time to think as the tent opened. Cassius stepped out, wiping away his tears. Elsie stiffened on the spot. Uh-oh… He looked at her, eyes wide, when he realized she'd been there since… He didn't know when. His face tightened, and he said in a loud tone:

"When did you get here?!

-Um… Since…

She didn't dare answer. You have to take responsibility for your actions… It's not an easy thing.

-SINCE WHEN?

She gasped when he raised his voice. She looked down at her feet.

-A few minutes! 1 or 2!

Cassius seemed to be seething with rage.

-What did you see?!

-N-nothing…

Elsie shifted her gaze to the side. Of course she was lying. Cassius threw his empty bottle into the distance. The sound of crashing was heard. The tension was rising dangerously. Elsie found the courage to raise her head and face his gaze. It was terrifying.

-Cassius, if you want to talk about it, you can…

-It's not your business!

He shouted. Elsie wanted nothing more than to leave. But she wanted what was best for him, to know what was bothering him, even if it was none of her business. She had to stay. She couldn't leave him like that. She stared at him intensely. There was no escape. Even though she could feel her whole body trembling.

-GET.LOST.

He'd never looked so imposing. He stood straight in front of her, his shadow covering her entirely. His gaze was inflamed, enraged. But you could still see the red marks under his eyes, a sign that he had been crying. Elsie was more than determined to stay here. Cassius shouted even louder:

"LEAVE! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! Leave me alone!

-I just… Just wanted to help…! I thought we… We'd become buddies. Friends support each other, don't they?

-We're not buddies! I'm not with anyone, and I never will be. Now lea-

He stopped dead in his tracks as Elsie released her first tear. She seemed terrified and offended. As if this truth had just destroyed her.

The tears continued to flow. Between sobs, she said:

-I… I was… Was beginning to think that maybe you were a good person.

She didn't even bother to wipe her face. She nodded:

-Maybe I was wrong… And that you really are a heartless freak who only cares about himself.

-Elsie… I didn't mea-

He'd lost the words. His throat tightened. This was the first time it had happened, he was now unable to produce any sound at all.

-I'm leaving now. I just wanted to be nice."

She pulled a lollipop from her pocket and threw it at his feet, before disappearing in a fraction of a second, still crying.

Cassius saw her off in the distance, away from their tents.

He screwed up. He acted like an ass-ole. Just like everyone else. He picked up the lollipop from the floor and stared at it sadly. Elsie had only been here a few days, but she was already trying to make friends with him. Usually, people called him an ass*ole and never spoke to him again. But she… She wanted to get closer. But why? He's cold but hot-blooded, he doesn't know how to do anything but mess around, fight, drink and be the life of the party. She didn't deserve to be terrorized by him, when she was the only one (along with Panah) who looked for good in him.

He returned to his tent, his head bowed. It was the first time he'd ever been angry at himself for acting this way. Usually, he's proud to go and piss other people off. He's used to people hating him. Maybe that's why he felt a pain in his heart. Maybe he didn't want Elsie to start hating him. But it's probably too late, he thought.

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[gatheringbones]

["Longing for Human Recognition

As these stories reveal, the therapeutic model of adulthood lends meaning and purpose to young people's lives not through marriage, home ownership, or a career, but instead from self-realization gleaned from denouncing a painful past and reconstructing an independent, complete self. However, simply constructing this alternative narrative— with its individualized markers— was not enough for them to feel like adults. The very acting of telling calls for a witness, a recognizing subject who listens to and validates one's hard-won but tenuous self (see Taylor 1989). Like traditional adulthood rituals that mark the transition from one status to another in a socially recognizable way, then, therapeutic markers also required the participation of others.

Justin is a thirty-one year old black man who works as a server at a casual dining chain restaurant. The son of a factory worker and a secretary, Justin spent six years at a historically black college, finally earning a degree in finance, which he paid for with loans ("It was $17,0000 my first year, and then it kept going up, so..."). Upon graduating, Justin found a job as a death claims clerk at an insurance company in central Virginia and fell in love with a coworker named Stan. After four years, however, the relationship fell apart, dragging Justin into a deep depression that left him unable to get out of bed for three months. Justin finally moved to Richmond in search of a fresh start, and took his current service job after spotting a "Now Hiring" sign in the window. He described: "I"m just kinda like at my rope's end. I've been working here so long that I'm just like... I'm tired of hearing from my mom and family like everyone is like, you've got a degree, why are you working at Applebee's?" Barely breaking even every month as it is, however, Justin is afraid to leave this job in case he can't find another: "It's nerve-wracking to me sometimes because what's preventing me from leaving this job is what's keeping me. It's like, I want a new job but I'm scared of leaving this job because I don't know if that job is going to work out, then... "Justin is trapped, unable to move forward in his journey to adulthood through traditional conduits because of fear of losing what little he has.

Taking stock of his life, Justin ascribes meaning, order, and especially progress onto his stunted experiences of coming of age through alternative ritual: the construction, and public telling, of his story of family suffering and self-realization. Justin narrates his adult self through his struggle to "come out" and claim his sexuality. As he recounted, "There were a few things that hindered me growing up. One of them was, growing up my family doesn't talk about stuff. Like we're a very hush hush family... sex, we never talked about sex, never, ever, ever. And then me being gay, first of all I don't know what sex is. I don't know how to say sex or talk about sex you know so...." Convinced by his religious upbringing that homosexuality was evil, Justin prayed every night that we would wake up the next morning and be straight. After many agonizing years of unanswered prayers, Justin decided that it was time to accept his sexuality as an undeniable part of himself: "I had no choice. You can't. No matter how long you try to repress these feelings. If you're gay, you're gay. That's how I know you're born this way." While he struggles to pay the rent on his studio apartment and has yet to find a long-term romantic partner or a lasting career, he feels a sense of accomplishment that he has faced a painful upbringing and found the strength to claim his authentic self.

Justin's pride in having found the strength to become the person he wants to be, however, is tempered by the fact that he cannot come out to his conservative religious family: "Like no way. No way, Jose." Tragically, Justin believes that his father, who recently passed away from cancer, might have been his only chance for affirmation:

JUSTIN: And before he passed away, I think he was trying to give me a sign that he knew. Because he gave me this big card and it had like a bowl of candy on it and it said, "No matter how sweet you are I will always love you."

JS: So you think he was trying to communicate with you?

JUSTIN: Yeah.

JS: Even though he maybe didn't know how to say it to you?

JUSTIN: Yeah.

This lack of recognition informs the stories of many respondents. Some young people attested that their parents suffer from mental illness, alcoholism, or drug addictions that have left them unable to provide the kind of support and recognition that respondents needed from them. Others simply state that their families or partners do not understand their pain. Vanessa, an unemployed twenty-seven-year-old, constructs her coming of age narrative around a psychiatric diagnosis of bipolar disorder. Following her second divorce, she explained, she went to a party, where she began to hallucinate, perhaps as a result of mixing beer and anti-depressants. When she was hospitalized, she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and has since reinterpreted her past experiences through the lens of this illness. During our three-hour interview, Vanessa searched her past for signs of her illness, linking the painful events of her life— being bullied at school, fired from jobs for stealing, getting divorced twice, and losing custody of her twins— with the common thread of her disorder. As traditional markers struck her as unsustainable, understanding her past and breaking free from unhealthy relationships became central to her definition of adulthood: "Since my divorce, I have been on my own for the first time in my life. I have not had anybody controlling me but myself.... I have only been an adult for six months (sobbing), I have learned a lot along the way."

But Vanessa's parents— a field machinist and a medical records coder, whom she described as traditional, religious, and Southern— viewed their daughter with a mixture of sadness, bewilderment, and disdain: "They just look at me and say, 'What is wrong with you? Why can't you get a job, why aren't you taking care of your own kids?' And I am like, you grew me up doing certain things, and this is what happened because of it, so you can't blame me." Her parents— as potential witnesses— did not judge her performance of adulthood as authentic. Unable to afford therapy, she joined an online bipolar support group but soon quit because she felt ignored: "It was all about [the founder of the group], you see, she would take up most of the time to talk. She didn't think that other people there would need people to talk to as well." Today, Vanessa continues to search for sources of validation.

For Justin and Vanessa, their chosen witnesses could not identify with their performance; building on Illousz (2008), we can see how generational differences in emotional expression become an insurmountable obstacle to communication. That is, the categories they use to understand themselves are not shared by their parents who came of age just forty years before them and for whom "coming out", battling mental illness publicly, defeating a legacy of alcoholism, or choosing art school over a stable career or family are incomprehensible.

When young men and women cannot communicate their feelings of anger and betrayal to those who wronged them, their coming of age stories remain unvalidated. As Isaac, a twenty-four-year-old black man who works as a stocker at a discount retail company, confessed poignantly: "When I would try to tell them what was really going on or things that I had on my mind, it's like I was talking to a brick wall. Sometimes like now with things, I have a lot of memories that I would like to forget in the back of my head. There are things that I've held inside that I wanted to tell them for a long time. But you know I've just held it in for so many years."

In telling their story to a witness— especially one who hurt or betrayed them— respondents imagine that their accounts will be honored, thereby allowing them to finally move beyond the painful memories that anchor their identities in the past. Within the mood economy, human recognition becomes a key to dignity and self-respect, in short, to finally appraising oneself as adult, complete, and fully human. Telling one's story is thus an interactional accomplishment, reliant on social recognition for validity and authenticity (Davis 2005). When a witness cannot hear their story— or discredits their account— working-class young people become suspended in a narrative of suffering, and the ritual fails to produce a newly adult self. These respondents thereby become trapped in the mood economy, unable to attain human recognition, dignity, or self-respect. Once again, the transition to adulthood is inverted, a coming of age means accepting that they are alone, dependent on others at their peril."]

jennifer m. silva, from coming up short: working-class adulthood in an age of uncertainty, 2013

[fishsticksloser]

Beguilement

f!Donnie x g!reader

Warnings: angst, Donnie centered 2nd person, the other boys are in relationships, Donnie struggles with feelings, swearing

A/N: I wrote this because I got off track doing a request and didn't want to delete it... Mikey's partner isn't specified because I didn't know who to put... 2 f!Donnie fics in a row???

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Donatello had a habit of stressing out too much when working in the lab, he also had a tendency to stay there for days on end. But suddenly you were in his life and you invaded his lab, not that he was complaining. When you were in his lab, he felt less stressed, he took more breaks, and he actually ate.

Though the last thing he needed was you. Relationships are a distraction, especially romantic ones.

That's what Don thought at least, but the more time you spent in his lab, around him in general, the more he longed to know what it felt like to have his arms around you... To have someone to share memories with, like his brothers did. Usagi was moving into Leo's room. Raph and Mona were finally getting married. Mikey was also getting married.

To stay away from his brothers and their happy relationships, he would locked himself in his lab. The cycle suddenly started again. He'd been working for days, no one, including you, had seen him for days. No one was even sure he'd eaten.

"Donnie." He heard you come in, tensing. "You haven't fermented in here, have you?"

"Fuck..." He huffed, under his breath.

"DonTon..." You place your hand on his shoulder, turning him to face you. "Your brothers say they haven't seen you in days. What's going on?"

Donnie didn't want to answer, but it was so hard to ignore you. He wanted to talk to you all the time.

"I can't be out there." He decided.

"Is there a reason? Don't tell me it's Raph's love stink."

"Partially."

"What else is it, Don? You know you can always talk to me."

"It's just..." He sighs, shoving the heels of his hands against his eyes. "It's not fair."

"What's not fair?" He didn't answer, trying to turn back around to his work, but you wouldn't let him. Donnie refused to look at you, fidgeting with his hands. "Are you... Jealous of your brothers?"

"Why would I be jealous?" He grits, finally turning away from you. "Jealous..."

"You are!" You pull him away from the desk and move in front of him. "You're jealous!"

"Name one thing I have to be jealous of?"

"They're in love."

"Love is a distraction."

"But you still yearn for it."

"Yeah right... I'm much to busy for did feelings like that."

"Are you saying you don't want me around? Am I not also a distraction?"

Donnie was caught. He knew it. That smug smile your lips, you knew. You had to, there was no way you'd bring up your time in his lab if you didn't know. He could play it off... Maybe...

"You're right." He manages. "I am jealous, but not because they're in love... Because I'm sitting here, in my lab, working my ass off. They get the happy life they have always wanted but I'm stuck here making sure we don't die, making sure we can defeat the Kraang.

"I'm stuck here while they're all cuddly and kissy. I'm here doing something that actually matters, something that makes a difference. Something that can protect thousands. So yeah, I'm jealous. I wish I could just kick back whenever I wanted. I wish I could go out to karaoke nights. But my work is too important for distractions, breaks, and relationships. Definitely not enough time for you."

Finally he looked up at you. He knew he fucked up. He shouldn't have said that. He should've just let you think you knew.

"So I'm just a distraction?" You finally say. "Nothing more. I'm just something in your way. So self-righteous. Your work trumps everything else. You are so worried about hiding your feelings you don't care who you hurt."

"Wait!" He calls as you storm out. You didn't listen, letting the lab door slam behind you. He stares at the probe in front of him. Shoving it off the desk, not really carrying if it broke. "Fuck..."

[it-happened-one-fic]

Bolero - Able to Manage - Strictly NRC Dancing

Author Notes: I'm not gonna lie, I honestly didn't know there was a dance called the bolero until I started this little AU/series. The dance in this fic was very much inspired by a Bolero dance by Pedro and Luísa for ABDS at Salvado. You can watch it on Youtube on the ABDS channel if you're interested. I listened to “You’ll Never Find Another Love Like Mine” by Michael Buble feat Laura Pausini while writing this fic which is also the song that was danced to in the Youtube video. Just like the rest of this AU/series the reader is female for this fic. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more this AU/series, the fics can be found here: Strictly NRC Dancing AU Master-List.

Type: Dance AU/ female-reader/ fluff/ kind of romantic but can be taken as platonic as well

Word Count: 1330

I was being totally honest with Crewel and Trein when I said that I had absolutely no clue that there was a dance called the bolero. I’d honestly always thought of the open-waist jacket when I’d heard the word bolero, which showed what I knew.

It turned out that, other than just being the name of a waist jacket, the bolero was also the name of yet another Latin dance. One that was often mistaken for the rumba. 

The bolero itself reminded me of a strange mixture of the waltz, tango, and rumba. 

It was a slower dance than the rumba and was, according to Trein, often viewed as more romantic. It didn’t possess the tango’s aggression, though, and had Latin elements that the waltz lacked. Additionally, lifts were allowed in the bolero style.

After learning it, I realized that there was also a certain drama to the bolero, usually caused by lengthy arm motions. These exaggerated motions accented the sweeping motions of the dance.

As for being romantic….  Well, I could certainly see where that description came from. The dance allowed plenty of time for the couple to cook up a wonderfully soupy atmosphere between the two of them as they stared into each other's eyes.

Which was why I was delightfully amused to see that my partner was none other than Jamil. One of the least soupy individuals I’d ever met.

Nonetheless, as we took to the floor for the performance, I had no doubt that he would do well and make a stellar score. His grades had skyrocketed after the Scarabia incident as a show of the new supposed rivalry between him and Kalim.

Jamil was no longer holding himself back in any fields, and that included dance. And if Jamil loved anything, it was dancing. So, Jamil would naturally excel in a dance class, even if the subject dance was a particularly mushy one.

The music started with neither of us on stage. A slinky jazz beat that I would have expected more from one of the Octavinelle boys than Jamil. But I didn’t question it too much as I sashayed across the stage to meet Jamil in the middle, where I threw my arms around him in what no doubt appeared to be a loving embrace.

“Think you’ll be able to manage?” His voice sounded in my ear just as he slowly stepped backwards, his charcoal-grey eyes flicking over to meet mine as I frowned slightly. Briefly miffed at the thought of him implying that I wouldn’t be able to keep up, before I realized his actual meaning.

 I’d already danced three times today. First, during my grading with Trein. Next, during the two performances with classmates, first Jade and then later a Pomefiore junior who’d attempted to crush all the toes on my left foot.

I nodded as he slowly began to turn me freely with my barely lifting one leg so that my foot was mere centimeters of the ground and he could spin me without any trouble, “I’ll be fine; this dance isn’t as exhausting as the others.”

 For a brief moment, the young man remained silent as he spun me slowly before he at last nodded.

“Alright,” Was his only response before I looked away and extended one arm and our spinning was accelerated to better enhance the opening of our performance.

The music was still faint, adding a soft, vaguely dreamy feel to the entire performance even as I wrapped my arm back around his shoulders and stepped around in an incredibly small circle with our two bodies pressed infinitely close together.

But we didn’t stay so impossibly close since, as soon as the vocalist’s crooning began, I was spun out so that the two of us were only joined by our hands.

 We looked over towards one another on the spot-lit stage as we both braced for what was going to be a stupidly mushy performance.

But as we slowly began to shift along the floor, the elegant nature of the bolero began to show. It was a dance filled to the brim with graceful sweeping motions that showed how the waltz had its part to play in the formulation of the bolero. 

Ours was an odd performance, though, since the bolero was one of those dances where you stayed very fixated on your partner. And, to be fair, we were very fixated on one another, but me and Jamil didn’t really speak much during our dance, despite the slight urge I felt to snark at the young man who often tossed random jabs or smart remarks my way whenever possible.

Similarly, there were also no soupy looks to be seen between the two of us. Though there was an innate tie that bound the two of us together as we spun elegantly across the floor.

At odds with the other performance that had been laugh-inducing as the dancers had attempted to cook up the right atmosphere, mine and Jamil’s performance was more like how Trein had described the bolero.

As the teacher had put it, the idea of the bolero was to be one with your partner throughout the dance and thus attain that soft, romantic feeling that was supposed to permeate throughout the dance. 

I would never say that me and Jamil had, ‘become one,’ whatever that entailed. But I would say that the two of us did attain a sort of peace and soft tenderness that was usually not found in my interactions with the young man.

But it was strange that once my gaze found Jamil’s, it was oddly hard to look away from those dark eyes of his. 

If a person truly could have a conversation through just exchanged looks and shared glances, then that person would be Jamil. Because even though I’d never noticed it before, he had an incredibly pointed gaze that contained many varied emotions.

Concentration was in that stare, no doubt since we were performing his graded dance. Jamil would never forgive himself if he failed a dancing class of all things. Not when he was so passionate about this art.

But concentration wasn’t the only thing in the charcoal-colored depths of his gaze. No, Jamil’s eyes also held a sort of reassuring steadiness to them that had me growing still more relaxed.

 I hadn’t exactly been on edge before, but as I swirled around the room with Jamil, there was a certain ease to the motions.

As the song came to its lilting end, my hands slipped out of his, and I looped my arms around his neck so that we were spinning a loose embrace where he had one hand placed firmly against my back. And then, as he extended one arm, I let our steady spinning slowly lift me off the ground. 

As our spinning gradually managed to slow even more, I touched back down. He twirled me lightly in front of him until he caught me with his free arm, and I draped myself backwards in a dip just as the final notes faded out of existence and silence filled the room as the spotlight dimmed. Leaving me and Jamil in the darkness, with me still draped over his arm and him leaning over me, his eyes still on mine. 

Applause filled the room as the lights clicked back on. Not the raucous kind that would have left me deafened, but rather the appreciative sort that brought a not-so-subtle smirk to Jamil’s lips as he pulled me back upright, “Looks like you were able to manage.”

 I snorted at his words as I stepped away from him, smiling slightly all the while, “You’re not the only one who can dance, Jamil. Crewel and Trein are very good teachers, and I told you I’d be fine.”

He let out an almost silent snort before we turned, meeting the judges' gazes and receiving approving head nods that already told us that Jamil had, indeed, met expectations and passed.

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[missmentelle]

I’m going to tell you a secret that I wish someone had told me a long, long time ago: If you’ve been in nothing but toxic and unhealthy relationships for most of your life, your first healthy relationship is probably going to feel boring. 

I spent the majority of my teenage years and early 20s in a series of unhealthy relationships. My relationships were all unhealthy in very different ways, but there was one thing they had in common: they were unpredictable, and in a perverse way, that made them addicting. There’s something weirdly thrilling about a relationship that is off-the-charts intense all of the time, even if it’s often a bad intense. My stomach used to drop like I’d just gone down the first hill of a roller coaster every time I opened the door to the apartment I used to share with my ex, because I never knew what I was going to find inside. Maybe he’d be on the couch, writing a song about me with that big smile on his face. Maybe he’d be half-coherent and the entire apartment would be trashed, with all the shades drawn. Maybe he’d be gone altogether with absolutely no explanation, and no way of getting in touch with him. There’s a sick thrill to waking up every morning and not knowing if your day is going to end with an impromptu romantic 2 am adventure that involves kissing under the stars, or if you’re going to go to bed in tears because you just got screamed at in a dumb fight over paper towels. Maybe it’s both. 

Often, it was both.

And after a while, when someone makes your heart pound every time you see them, your brain stops trying to learn the difference between attraction and fear. 

Then in my final year of my master’s degree, I swiped right on the right person and got into the first healthy relationship I had ever been in. My new relationship was everything I could have dared to hope for, back in the days when I was begging my ex to tell me where he was because he hadn’t been home in four days, or getting woken up at four a.m. because he’d found a man’s name when he went through my phone while I was sleeping and didn’t believe it was my brother. My new partner is, at a very fundamental level, an incredibly gentle and thoughtful person. Regular “good morning” and “good night” texts became a regular staple of my day, instead of passive-aggressive jabs and so-called “silent treatments”. Encouragement was given freely, without any accusations that I was seeking attention or trying to out-do him. Birthdays and important dates were remembered without any reminders. Hugs were given out in generous quantities, small issues were laughed off instead of fought over, and male friends were encouraged instead of demonized. At long last, I had the relationship I had always wanted. 

And to my absolute horror, I realized I was bored.

Without even realizing it, I had trained myself to think of relationships as battles, and being in a healthy relationship for the first time felt like I had suited myself up for an epic war, only to end up in an old ladies’ pottery class. The lack of unhealthy behaviours started making me antsy. Why wasn’t he going through my phone and looking through my social media? Did he just not care? Did it just not matter to him that other guys might be speaking to me? Why was I feeling so calm all the time? Where was the adrenaline rush? Why weren’t we clashing more? Did it mean that we just weren’t invested enough to even bother to fight with each other? We were - and are - deeply compatible people who have a lot of fun with each other, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the relationship just wasn’t intense enough. I absolutely knew that my past relationships were deeply unhealthy, but it’s hard to un-learn the idea that relationships should be high-stakes and constantly exhausting if both people truly care about each other. 

It took a lot of time, but I gradually come to realize something: I’d never actually known love in any of my previous relationships. What I had known was obsession. My exes had put me up on pedestals, and ripped me down as soon as I failed to live up to impossible expectations. Over and over again. Everything was big and over-the-top: life was a series of grand gestures, big fights and enormous apologies. I had one ex comb through years and years of my social media photos, commenting on every single one, while another ex would make the hour-long drive to my house in the middle of the night several times per week, whenever he felt like seeing me, letting himself in through my bedroom window. When you’re young and don’t know any better, that level of obsession is flattering. It’s what we’ve been taught is romantic. But it’s not - it’s not a good basis for a strong and healthy relationship. And in the end, none of it was really about me. My exes were caught up in ideas about the relationships they’d fantasized about having, and the way they wanted people to perceive them, and I was more or less just there to play a part. And it always came crashing down. 

Real love, on the other hand, is not about the grand gesture. It’s not about non-stop “dialed-up-to-11″ intensity. It’s about being there, day by day. My boyfriend has never gone through my social media for six straight hours or broken into my house because he couldn’t wait a moment longer to see me, and he’s never screamed at me for having male names in my contacts list or for not texting back fast enough because he’s just so afraid to lose me. Instead, he is patient. He is kind. He listens to what I have to say and he doesn’t get upset about the small things and he always remembers to make  my coffee exactly how I like it. I know that he will be there for me when I need him - whether I need to vent about a bad day at work or build a bookcase or double-check that I added enough salt to the soup - and I do the same for him. It’s a kinder, gentler kind of relationship, and now that I’m used to it, it’s anything but boring. 

Don’t get me wrong - sometimes a relationship can be healthy and not be right for you. If you don’t have anything in common and you don’t enjoy doing things together, that’s probably not the relationship for you. It’s important to have fun with your partner and enjoy their company. But it’s also important not to mistake obsession for romance, or mistake a lack of intensity for disinterest. 

[moody4world]

Conflicted

A/N(?): i am !!NOT!! a writer, everything i write and post is simply for fun and not to be taken seriously

A/N: i got this idea since i first listened to Melt by Kehlani which was months ago, i didnt know how to write or who to request it to so i held onto it but now it’s finally a written fic!!!

This is for my queer girlies <3

reader x urban, previous reader x kehlani

This is my first angst ever so please go easy on me💀

Your relationship with Urban is pretty new. The two of you started talking not too long after you had dealt with what you still called ‘your worst heartbreak ever’. Urban was aware that you just got out of a two year long relationship and he was very patient with your emotions.

He never rushed you and made sure that you were always comfortable with the pace you two were moving at.

He was really into you from the very beginning and to avoid anything going wrong, he decided to simply sit back and let you lead the ship. About two months into the talking stage things started getting more and more serious between the two of you. You would stay over at his place and he would stay over at yours, you guys would go on little dates here and there and you even met his friends and family. Urban had met your sisters and cousins but had yet to meet your parents because they lived in a different state.

The topic of your previous relationship had always been a sensitive one, Urban knew this which is why he avoided the subject just as much as you. The only thing he knew was that your ex partner was a woman and that it was the longest relationship you’ve had.

“Baby i’m joining Jack at the studio today do you wanna come with?” It wasn’t a rare occurrence that Urban would ask you to join them at the studio but it was rare that you would say yes.

You just felt like his time at the studio with Jack and his friends was his ‘me time’ and didn’t want to take that from him. However, you had nothing planned today and decided to hang out with them at the studio. You and Urb arrived at the studio at the same time as Jack who happened to be accompanied by dj drama.

What you didn’t expect is to run into your ex when you all walked through the door of the building. You could feel your heartbeat speed up and your thoughts were running faster than your brain could process, trying to think of how to handle the situation.

“I heard you have an album on the way” Jack said to Kehlani, to which she replied “I do i do i’m so excited for it i can’t wait for everyone to listen to it cause we actually just added some finishing touches and its good to go.” You didn’t know if you should feel relieved that she acted like the two of you were strangers or if you should be upset. You began to overthink more and more until Jacks voice interrupted your chaotic train of thought “That’s whats up, we’re actually working on my new album too right now so i definitely feel your excitement, got some pretty legendary features coming too “ “I cant wait to hear what you put out, i have a really special one on the album, i mean all these songs are special to me but there’s one i wrote for my last girl so i hope she listens to it.” well

“Damn you got some romantic shit on yours meanwhile i got a song named side piece” They all laughed at Jacks remark but you were still stuck on what Keh had said. She wrote a song for you…. not that she hasn’t done that before i mean..you did date for two wonderful years. But this time it was different. This time you hadn’t been peeking over her shoulder while she wrote the lovely words about your smile and how you touch her.

Was it going to be a happy song? a sad song? Urban noticed that you seemed distracted during the whole studio session. You would miss every joke because of how consumed you were by your thoughts.

On the way to drop you off you asked Urban if he would like to stay over. He felt relieved that even though you clearly weren’t in the best headspace you still wanted him close. He felt like it was an improvement from how you would usually shut him out when something was bothering you at the beginning of your relationship.

The two of you smoked and watched some of your favorite shows and cuddled all through the night. In the morning you felt much better but yesterday’s situation was still in the back of your mind.

As the days passed you slowly forgot all about it. Urban had been the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for. He was supportive of your model career and even helped you take your new digitals for a new agency you recently got signed to. A few weeks have gone by and the closer it got to Kehlani’s album release date, the more you kept seeing it everywhere. Instagram, Twitter, you name it.

It was 4 in the morning but you were laid in bed wide awake not being able to fall asleep. You were anxious to listen to Kehs new album but Urbans arm was around your waist while he was spooning you. His soft snores and occasional sleepy mumbling filled your ears as you gently caressed the hair on his arm.

By 6am you managed to fall back asleep until 8:30. Urb had to get up and get ready to go to work with Jack and you decided to get up as well. “Okay baby i’m gonna head out so i’m not too late, you know how mister tumnus gets” he says to you with a goofy smile on his face causing you to laugh as well. Urban stood at the foot of the bed just admiring you, sitting against the head of the bed covered up in the white blankets. He couldn’t believe he had such a beautiful soul to call his, your beauty was something he’d never get over. No matter how crazy your hair looked every morning. Pillow marks on your chubby cheeks and all.

“Stop staring at me you creep, you’re gonna end up late” you say to him half jokingly. His stare would always make your cheeks feel warm and made it hard for you to hold back a flustered smile. “Can i get a kiss before i go?” you pretended to think about your answer before giving into him, you could never say no to a kiss from him. I mean come on…do you see those lips?!

“Hmmmm, you don’t gotta ask twice” you had crawled to the end of the bed and stood on your knees so the two of you were now face to face.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist bringing you into what was meant to be a simple peck but slowly became more. His kisses were soft and felt like a warm hug.

Urban pulled back against his will. Because he knew that if he didn’t stop himself, he would either end up late or not leave your house at all. “You’ll come pick me up for lunch?” “Yeah hopefully the interview wont take too long, be ready when i get here okay?” “Okay baby, don’t forget your keys” you say to him when he’s halfway out the bedroom door and he sticks out a thumbs up through the door so you know he heard your reminder.

You got up and took a shower and decided to do some cleaning around the house. After you officially had nothing left to do you put on a random tv show. As soon as you opened your instagram you remembered that Kehs album had dropped. You had been so distracted by Urbans love and affection that it had left your mind almost completely.

You nervously went onto spotify searching up the album. Her music was always a good feeling to you, you always associated it with happiness so this new feeling of nervousness didn’t feel good in the slightest. You scrolled through the first songs and went straight to the one she had mentioned to Jack but indirectly at you too a few weeks ago. The title of the song was ‘melt’, you put the tv on mute and played the song.

I can't tell where your hair ends and mine begins

If I ain't have all these tattoos, I would think that it's your skin

If I move too quick past you, I would think it's my reflection

Being this close isn't close enough

You could tell every time we touch, every time we, oh

The first verse was already hard to deal with, you could feel your heartbeat speed up the tiniest bit and your eyes were starting to feel teary. And then came the pre chorus.

Wish I could build me a cute apartment

One-bedroom right where your heart is

Inch of space feels broken-hearted

Across the bed feels way too far and

I wonder when they see just one, do they see us two?

Ooh, oh

The lyrics had felt like a punch to the gut. No matter how much you tried you couldn’t hold back your tears. The longer you listened to the lyrics the harder you began to cry. You loved Kehlani with all your heart. The two years you two were together was the best years of your life, she was the best partner you had ever had in more ways than one. The breakup had been a mutual decision simply because you both wanted different things out of life. It hurt more than you could ever describe to someone.

Hearing her beautiful voice with such sentimental lyrics towards you threw your emotions for a loop. You thought that you had been over the situation and had all your focus on Urban and your new relationship but now you felt like you were wrong. Were you still in love with Keh? Do you really love Urban as much as you say you do? Had you been using him this whole time just to get over Keh?

You were so deep into your thoughts that you hadn’t heard Urban come in. Urb was alarmed when he was met with you crying your eyes out to Kehlani’s new album. He walked over to you lowkey wanting to laugh thinking it was just you being emotional. His smile dropped once you looked up at him. He knew that face…this wasn’t just you being emotional to a sad song.

He had so many questions, but you were so hysterical that he couldn’t even get one out. All he could do was hold you as you sobbed into his shoulder.

You definitely had some explaining to do….

part2

A/N: PLEASE LEAVE A FEEDBACK, if yall would like a part 2 lmk<3

[capricorn-writes1]

🍭: Austria, Romano and England with an s/o that sometimes wakes up from really bad nightmares? <33

Hello there Anon! Thank you for the ask! I am glad you gave me this ask because yesterday I did had a scary nightmare that causes me to cry all night 😭😭😭😭. Anyway, I hope you like these headcanons or scenarios.

Warning: Angst to fluff

Gender: Neutral

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Roderich Edelstein, Lovino Vargas and Arthur Kirkland when their S/O have a Nightmare.

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Roderich Edelstein - Austria

You jolted up straight up from the bed, outside was loud with thunder sounds and wind knocking against the window. The dream felt so real as if it feels like it happened in the real life. It was the dream of you were sitting on the chair, Roderich laid on the bed next to you with a hose attached to his breathing mask and to the oxygen tube. He had eye bags after not sleeping for a long time, his ribcage was shown and his skin is paler than usual, he was in a very weak condition even though his sickness was still unknown to you or the doctors inside of that hospital.

The beeping sound of the hemodynamics and saturation keeps beeping out loud but as soon as The brunette man closes his eyes, the sound of the machine began beeping loudly. Alarming you who jumped from your sit and pressed the emergency button, calling both doctors and nurses. Your hands are gripping on the older male, calling his name and hoping he would wake up from his slumber, "RODERICH! RODERICH! WAKE UP!" You called his name as loud as you can, shaking his shoulder wildly to wake him up again.

The door slowly disappears as the nurse and the doctors try to get inside, trying to save him from slipping away from death but they were too late to get inside. Your eyes widened as everything turns darker and darker, a grim rapper appears in your dream and the creature slowly dragged your soulmate away from you, not letting you say the last goodbye to him. "NOOO!!! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE!!!" You cried, trying to chase the grim reaper but it slowly went into the darkness and you were alone.

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Tears began to appear in the corner of your eyes, wiping it away with the sleeve of your shirt. A sweet aroma filling up on your nostrils, a tray suddenly placed in front of you, it has a plate of roll cake with fruit bits inside of it and a cup of r sweetened or unsweetened earl grey tea.

Looking up, it was Roderich with his purple eyes and a slight worry in the glint of his eye. No one sees it but you could see it and know when he is worried and felt distraught when you were down.

"You moron, why didn't you tell me that you have a nightmare," he sat next to you with another teacup in his hand.

"It's okay, Roderich," You try to reassure him.

"....Just tell me next time when you have a nightmare. I will bake a cake or make a tea for us," he grumbled with his ears getting a bit red from embarrassment.

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He might be not a romantic partner but he will try really hard to cheer you up. I just think he's the type when someone is sad, he is just standing there awkwardly, doesn't know how to cheer them up.

However, if you really have a bad nightmare that makes you cry really hard or down. He would be patient around you, making a cup of tea to calm your nerves.

He would also listen to your venting, understand that you were angry, scared or sad because of the nightmare. I think he's secretly emphatic, he just doesn't really know how to make you feel better.

I also think he would play the piano for you if you cannot sleep but try hard to come back. However, if he is too tired to play the piano for you. He would record himself beforehand while he was playing the instrument.

After playing, he would lend his phone near around you so you could hear it or he will send it to you through file with Hungary's help.

He is not much of a cuddler but if you want him to cuddle you, he would let you but he would be so stiff while he was hugging you and he would look funny as hell.

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Lovino Vargas - Romano

Standing in front of your boyfriend, his hands are gripping on the suitcase with a face clearly red by anger but not embarrassment like usual where you would tease him. It was clear that he was pissed and done but you don't know the reason why he is so mad with you, "I AM DONE WITH YOU BASTARDO!" He slams the ring that he gave to you a few months ago. It was a ring with a beautiful red ruby stone, it was an anniversary gift to always remember that the two of you are always together and not going to leave.

"W-wait, Lovi! Why are you so mad at me? What did I do to you?!" You tried to defend yourself.

"Y_YOU DON'T REMEMBER?! YOU CHEATED ON ME WITH THAT TOMATO BASTARD! HOW COULD YOU!" Tears began swelling up in his eyes.

It was clear that you just screw yourself in front of Lovino, hurting him, you tried to speak once again but the throat feels tight and suffocating. Your hand was going to grab him, trying to stop him from leaving you but your hand got slapped away by him, it was quite hard and you flinch in pain but only a little bit, pulling your hands away quickly from him and biting your own lips, trying not to let out tears. After all, you're the one who hurt him....and not him.

As soon as he turns around, opening the door and slamming the door close. Everything turns dark, no one was there except you with the broken engagement ring that he slammed on the floor. There were many broken pieces of furniture and glass, the picture of you teasing Romano or celebrating his birthday together was also ripped apart as if it was nothing, a memory that could be erased in any time.

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You wake up with tears streaming down from your eyes, glistening on the cheeks and falling down on the bed. Looking around, you saw Romano who is looking at you groggily, in a condition of half sleepy and half awake, "Cara/Caro.....why are....awake....and have...tears," he said between his yawn.

"Mhm....it's alright. I'm fine, you can go back to sleep," you said.

"Tch....idiota," he wraps his arm around you.

"H-Hei!" You try to protest.

"Don't A-Hei me. You cried, idiota and as a boyfriend.....I should cheer you up..." his cheeks got red.

".....Hehe, thank you. Lovi, Ti Amo," you whisper.

"Ti Amo Anch’io...." he carefully slid his hands around your back, gently caressing your back and letting your head rest on his chest.

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Unlike Austria, I t think Romano would be a great cuddle buddy if you have a really bad nightmare, he would let you sleep on his chest or put your head under his chin, or he would spoon you from the back.

Even though he called you an idiot many times, he would still be affectionate and kiss the top of your head when you have a nightmare and then cradled you in his arms.

If you are breathing hard, crying in your sleep. He would immediately wake you up by shaking your shoulder, calling your names to wake you up and immediately hugging you once you are awake.

I think Romano would also hum a lullaby to make feel calm and if you want to go back to sleep, he is very gentle around you when you are down because of your nightmare.

If you are getting more sleepy, his hands would gently be caressing your hair and your back while waiting for you to fall asleep so he could sleep afterwards.

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Arthur Kirkland - England

It was around seven until eight in the night, the two of you are outside and walking around the street with snow falling to the ground, decorating the stones and the pavements with their white colour. The two of you just hung out after going from the book cafe where the two of you enjoyed some English classic books, mystery or fantasy books.

As the two of you are talking about Harry Potters or a book written by Charles Dickens, there was a truck speeding and driving on the street with the driver that looks wasted. The steering wheel keeps going around and made the truck crashes with some poles, trashcans, glasses on the edge of the streets, and almost knocking other people who were also travelling around the small city.

Realizing this, Arthur's eyes widened as the truck goes closer and he pushes you away, sacrificing himself. A loud screech could be heard by the passerby and many eyes watch their scene unfold in front of the passerby, including you who have pushed away from him, "ARTHUR!!! NO!!" You tried to stand up, shoving yourself from the ground and standing up.

SCREEEECH

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Gasping for air and eyes opens wide with fear, tears streaming down from your cheeks and you sat up from the bed. The nightmare feel real and guilt eating your heart away very slowly, you couldn't bear to see the love of your life sacrificing himself for you. Arthur might be harsh with his words but you know he is the most selfless person other than your best friends.

tears began scrolling down from the corner of your eyes, glistening on your cheeks, and falling down from the bed. You couldn't help but let out a tiny sob from your lips. "Love, are you okay?" An arm wrapped around your back. wiping the tears away. You could see Artur looking at you with worry.

His gentle yet warm embrace pulls you closer, putting your head on the crook of his neck, "Shh, I'm here love. It's okay, darling," he keeps cooing in your ear.

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Arthur is very nurturing so if he sees tears after a nightmare, he would immediately hug you and cradle you in his arms. His hum would calm you down from your nightmare.

If you are still down or sad because of the nightmare, he would be willing to make you a cup of tea to ease your mind.

Arthur also going to let you borrow his book if you like to read, especially if reading makes you feel comfortable. Even if it's the one that the author doesn't publish anymore (and the original one).

Arthur would cuddle you when you have a nightmare, just like Romano. He would wrap his arm around you, giving you a soothing pat on the back as he reads on the novel, letting you to fall asleep first.

If you fall asleep, he would gently kiss your forehead once you close your eyes and he would let you lay on top of his head. He would be very soft around you.

Since you had a nightmare, he would use a soothing voice instead of using his normal voice (the one where he would be really grumpy around everyone).

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