#or maybe I'll feel fucking worse since my brain is broken and I'm the only one in my class who isn't fucking learning anything

[boyapologist]

... did moving out trigger some kind of depressive episode in me or what

[schizochasm]

I went to the store.

My mom sent me 100sek less than she said. So I had to cut some stuff and accept that I'll not have money for the rest of the week.

I still got 2 6packs though. Cause if I hadn't I would've been even worse off.

I was supposed to start watching SVU while waiting for the bus, but my friend called. They were very upset, but at least it saved me from watching it.

Rant about him and my life

TW: (sc1de talk, abuser, hopelessness, and just horrific shit tbh. Proceed at your own risk.)

Once I got home I smoked 2 ciggies in the bathroom venting at him. About how I don't even care anymore and if I had the money I wouldn't talk to anyone anymore. And just let go of what I "need to do" to keep my life together. Just isolate and go back to being g drunk 24/7. Cause I just don't care anymore.

And I told him how I feel about him. How much I hate him etc. even though I know he knows. He's in my head. He knows all of what I think and feel. More than I do sometimes.

I just needed it said.

That's when I made my last post.

After that it was time to watch fucking SVU.

And I'm not even through episode 1 and already hate him for it. And myself.

I can't. I can't cope.

I hate myself for getting this way. For being sick. For being schizophrenic.

And for not listening to him when I should've.

I hate him for ruining my entire life ever since I first met him. Especially after I got sicker years ago and he came back.

But everyone keeps saying he's technically me. He's part of me. He's from my brain.

But he may be from my brain. But he's not me. Fuck that. He's not me. He's nothing like me and he's just horrific terrible scum.

Yet I can barely muster being mad at him anymore.

It's been years. Years.

I'm more submitted, broken, and scared than angry.

That anger, fight, and animosity... It's almost all gone...

He broke me long ago.

And it only got worse over time.

I'm not even one cohesive identity anymore. Not to me.

I'm broken.

And people with abusers that "are real" can escape. There's hope. Somewhere in there you might escape. It might end one day.

But me with my "not real" abuser doesn't get that. For about 2 years I held on to hope.

"One day it'll all get better." And similar. I heard it so much I believed it deep down. That one day maybe it'll all end.

One day he'll stop. He'll go away again and I can start healing and making a life.

I don't have hope anymore.

Not anymore.

It's been at Least 2.5y.

At Least.

I suck at keeping track.

You break.

You fold.

You lose hope.

I can't run. He's in my head.

I can't go to the cops or a shelter. He's in my head.

The meds aren't enough to make it stop. (Maybe if I had a decent dr it could've worked.)

Therapy can't help me cause I'm Currently being controlled and abused, in every category of abuse.

I wish I were dead.

I wish I could k1ll myself.

But my younger brother died 2 years ago.

And since then I don't have it in me to k1ll myself.

Can't do that to my mom and brother. They can't lose us both.

So I'm stuck living.

In a hell scape that people want to just brush off and ignore. Cause to them it's not real. To them it doesn't matter.

It's real to me.

I experience it as if it were real.

But they don't treat me like that's what I'm dealing with.

And I can't even tell them outright myself.

Cause he won't allow me to talk about it. They know. More or less depending on who. But they don't treat it like that's the case. And they never will.

Cause they can't see the scars, rope burns, rashes, cuts, brandings...

They can't see him. Hey can't hear him.

It's not real to them.

It's not the same to them as if it were in shared reality.

I just wanna die.

I just want out.

I don't have a life to hold onto.

I'm just doing it cause I Have to.

Sorry for the rant....

I just....

I wish I could kms...

Maybe one day I'll mercy k1ll myself ...

Maybe one day....,

[papermonkeyism]

For the new year, I wish I'll get to hang out with people again.

This past year has been, frankly, pretty miserable, specially since early summer-ish when my DnD group went on a months long break. Wasn't the first one, nor the last one, but definetely the worst one. Don't really have other friends locally, aside from one old school mate.

Honestly it's been pretty bad ever since the start of the pandemic when we stopped hanging out outside of DnD sessions and my fave coffee places closed down along with couple of my fave restaurants, and I just... Stopped having a social life, but now it's so much worse. As said, I have one (1) friend outside of the group I sometimes go shopping with, and one of my DnD buddies hangs out with me maybe once a week to borrow my laundry machine for couple hours, and they are probably the only reasons I haven't broken completely so far.

But neither of them are storytelling people the same way I am, so I'm kinda holding back when we hang out, as I can't really go all in with my special interests on them.

Downsides of being socially awkward introvert.

The summer break from roleplaying was a trigger for anxiety and maybe the worst creative block of my life so far. As someone who basically thinks with a sketchbook it was pretty fucking stressful not being able to draw anything for several months!

I crave creation and storytelling, but my brain is made of goo. Like imagine if someone came and asked you to pick a water from a pool and hand it to them? But it's liquid! Can I get a cup or something, but they just scoff. You got hands, right, just pick one up and hand it over. So I'm just left trying to scoop handfuls of wet and grabbing nothing. Kinda how it feels.

Started marathoning Crit Role to distract myself from the worst of it and to have at least some kind of creative energy in my life, and consumed what must be over half a thousand hours of role playing. At least that was fun!

And when nights started stretching and seasonal depression started to creep into my already not-doing-good brain I started my routine of evening walks because at some point I was legitimately going stir crazy enough to explode otherwise.

It's also been my first full year of joblessness in a long while. I was already having hard time by the end of last year, because my brain has difficulty handling full time jobs for long stretches of time, and ten months in a row not being able to recharge was starting to weight on me, so I had made a plan to get my brain sorted out with the ADHD diagnosis and hopefully medication before applying for jobs again, but turns out the process took the entire year, and then some, and I still don't have the meds yet. I have been given the thumbs up on them, but turns out me stressing for the better part of a year has triggered blood pressure problems (runs in my family, so honestly probably just a matter of time, but it's still very inconvenient to happen right now), so I have to sort that out first before it's safe to try stimulant medication.

And then there was the death in the family and a close friend's cancer diagnosis (fingers crossed!) and I just haven't had a great time, you know.

January's going to go into medical stuff in the hope of getting the ADHD meds, so maybe I could one day grab those thoughts again. The unemployment office is also pestering me again, so we'll see how that'll go.

I think I'll see if I can make myself a regular at the new cat cafe in town. Cats make everything better. Also looking forwards to actualizing a tattoo plan or two! Springtime is coming too, eager to continue my evening walk routine with returning sunlight. And I really, really, really need to create something again.

So here's for what I sincerely hope to be a better year than this past one! Cheers.

[itsnotthateasy]

Overcoming insecurities and the whims within

Picture this scene, a girl who cares about her image so much that she spends the entirety of her youth afraid of mirrors, cameras, and takint pictures. Of course it's not a heavenly sight. Instead of focusing on life and it's littlest bits of everything like a normal person would do, she instead, focuses on nitpicking the well-being of her outside self not knowingly open with the idea of a broken one. But, she lives in constant doubt that she hasn't had enough to care about herself—that she wasn't fit enough to meet the standards of the general public. So she drowns herself, thinking that it'll change every mistake she had put herself up to. But surely, it doesn't. It only makes things worse. So now she's back to Step 1. Overcoming the belittling greed of the human eye.

That's how typical American shows depict a teenage girl. But what really is the stereotype within these girls? That they're ashamed of theirselves? That they don't enjoy life since they're so insecure of everything?

That doesn't change anything for me. It only makes things worse.

So I don't know.

I don't know why I'm like this. Why I feel like writing the stupidest thoughts in my brain into a notepad thinking that I'll go back to it.

I don't know why I spend the entirety of my youth not caring about my image.

I don't know why I'm so insecure, yet I don't do anything about it.

I don't know anything.

It feels messy to say things like this. I don't know why I thought of posting this on Facebook knowing pretty well that no one doesn't give a fuck about my feelings.

Maybe it's because I wasn't given that much attention as a child? Maybe it's a curse for growing up like this. I hate everything that screams me. It's just that I can never truly love myself when I'm introduced to this idea of something that can never be loved, cared, or taken care of. I just hate how unconventional I am.

Growing up surrounded by a healthy family is truly a crucial step in building a healthy foundation.

[oikoik]

the color of a bruise (part two)

warnings; cursing, pretty vanilla so far tbh

word count; 1626

a/n; can I please just say how much I love Ennoshita,, like he seriously doesn’t get enough love and support

(8:34pm, Karasuno Headquarters, Daichi's Office)

"She isn't cut out for this."

"It's not like she has much of a choice."

"The girl never asked for this lifestyle, she did what she thought was right. You can't punish her for that, Sawamura."

The tension in room was palpable. Daichi stood with his shoulders leaned against the wall. His sharp gaze was on where Ennoshita stood across his desk. The two held their silent pissing contest until Daichi let out a dejected sigh.

"Yes, but that Good Samaritan act just landed her a one way ticket into this mess."

"But-"

Ennoshita's reoccurring concern was cut short when another voice spoke in to reason. "If Daichi didn't find her, you know they would have…" Suga was sat in one of the chairs by the desk, his long legs crossed and a look of genuine speculation etched into the soft wrinkles of his forehead. "Besides, she saved two of our recruits, we owe her for that much... And we might as well use any of her abilities since she’ll be with us for awhile."

"But what does she even have to offer? All we know is that she can aim a can of fucking mace, it's practical to assume she has no real training,"Ennoshita's hands came to rub across his jaw, the uncertainty of the situation as a whole left him on edge. If there was one thing Ennoshita didn't like, it was unidentified liabilities.

"We'll figure it out as we go, but I'm not leaving her to be killed by them. She saved two of ours, so now we save her."

Daichi spoke with such a firmness that Ennoshita knew, even if he wanted to rebuttal the claim, the use of furthering the debate would be useless. He made his decision.

It was huge. So much larger than any house you had ever stepped foot into before. Your brain didn't allow you to gawk, however. It was far too focused on the adrenaline still pumping through your veins as the account of the previous hour circulated through your memory like a broken tape.

A job, a job, a job.. Maybe they need something fixed? What the hell could you fix?... No.. Maybe a secretary! You can type! But what use would they have for secretary?.. Shit! What did they want from you?

You were scattered, your mind a jumbled mess of paranoid delusions and worst case scenarios. This wasn't good, no. But you had to keep a level head if it were to take a turn for the worse.

You cast a watchful glance towards the boy who stood at the corner of the couch. From where you sat you could see that he was in fact one of the boys you had stumbled upon that fateful night. Under proper lighting, he looked cute. His freckled face and kind eyes made you feel a bit more at ease the longer you were forced to wait. You had tried to subtly get his attention through gestures, fearful to make any noise in the otherwise silent mansion, but his eyes remained glued to the floor in an unblinking stare.

That effort had been abandoned after your fourth attempt. You closed your eyes, willing the entire house to vanish when you opened them again. If you had any such abilities, they were clearly against you tonight. When you had reopened your eyes, you nearly yelped at the new additions to the room.

Sat on the pristine white sofa across from you sat a man with neatly style silver hair. Beside him was another man of larger stature and dark eyes. He watched you with a searching stare. You were so caught in keeping your guard up that your heart skipped a beat when the silver-haired man spoke,

"Relax, we aren't going to hurt you."

The dark-haired fellow softened his gaze as he rested his elbows atop his knees. "What's your name? Your full name."

"Y/N L/N." You cringed at the sound of your own voice. It sounded broken and afraid--and while that may be the case, you'd prefer to not have your captors be aware of your current state.

"Okay, Y/N, tell me what you're thinking."

The scoff you let out was second nature. Were you the only one who realized how batshit insane this whole thing was? Most likely. "I think this is a sick game you're playing. Saying you won't hurt me just to build up my trust, and then when I least expect it, you'll have me begging for a life that was never promised." Somehow, despite the racing heart inside your ribcage, you looked up to make eye contact with the brunet.

What shocked you was that despite the chiseled features of his jaw and muscular frame, his eyes were soft as they looked at you. "I can assure you, we have no intention of bringing you any harm. I am a man of my word, and if you would like, I can explain everything in detail."

"I just want to go home."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Miss L/N."

Your heart nearly exploded in your chest. You hadn't noticed the third person enter. He was of average height and build, with dark ebony hair combed neatly away from his forehead. His features were colder, more serious than the other two. You didn't like the way he looked at you as if you were the cause for all his troubles.

But then again, maybe you were.

With wide eyes, you stared at the men on the couch as panic thrummed in your veins. The brunet leaned closer towards you, the palm of his hand was opened as if he were gesturing for a wild animal to calm down. "Relax, I can explain what's going to happen, but you need to settle down first."

Although oppositions nested in your brain, you willed yourself to find any last shreds of composure. You prayed they failed to notice the tremor of your hands as you clutched them tightly in your lap. You gave a small nod.

"My name is Daichi. These are my associates, Suga and Ennoshita. We work in a… taboo field of business. The two boys you had met a few night ago, Hinata and Yamaguchi, also work for me. Does this make sense so far?"

You gave him an uncertain glance, but nodded nonetheless.

"The man that had cornered Hinata and Yamaguchi works for a different… business, and he had real intent to do harm to them. Thankfully, though, you acted with bravery and helped them escape. However…" He paused.

You didn't like the way he paused. Your eyes searched his features for any giveaways. The rationale in your brain told you to dig deeper, demand to know why he was so hesitant about telling you these things, what any of this has to do with you. But your tongue was glued in your mouth, and what came out was the voice of someone defeated, "However?..."

"Because of your actions, you now have a target over your head as well."

In that moment, your heart seemingly ceased to beat. The breath in your lungs dissipated and your mind went white as the words sank in. "What- what the hell does that mean?" You feared you already knew the answer.

"It means, whether you want to believe it or not, you're wanted by one of the most powerful gangs in Japan."

You weren't sure who had said it. Most likely Ennoshita, but your mind was only able to make out two words; wanted and gangs.

Your eyes burned. It took a moment before you realized tears were falling down your cheeks. You didn't rub them away, you didn't try to hide. You merely felt. Felt the coolness of them as they rolled like rain down a window. Felt the hole in your chest become a gaping void. Felt as your world seemingly fell apart.

It was weak, a plea for help, for stability or support. It came from the deepest parts of you, and it was pathetic, "What have I done?..."

Daichi stood from where he sat to kneel in front of your slouched figure. His hands were large, they could easily grab onto you and put you out of whatever misery was coming your way, but instead, they were gentle as his calloused fingers laid atop your own. "I gave you my word that your safety is in the hands of me and my men. You saved two of mine, so now we will save you. Deal?"

When you managed to meet his gaze, you found warmth in the browns of his eyes, a deep level of comfort you never expected had you nodding solemnly.

You notice out of the corner of your eyes that the boy from earlier had reappeared. When he left, you never noticed. But now, his eyes finally looked at you. In them, you saw the same glimpses of sympathy etched into his features. You were quick to look away.

"Yamaguchi is going to take you to your room. You'll be staying here until it's safe for you to return home. I'll send someone to your apartment for clothes in the morning. Go get some rest. We’ll discuss everything else in the morning."

Being told you would have a bed to sleep in was easily the best news you had received all day. You didn't pay any attention to the vast interior of the mansion or hallways as you trailed behind Yamaguchi. You didn't take in any details of the room as you entered, either. Your body merely floated from one place to the next until you were asleep on a mattress that was far too soft for a place so cold.

[bijackkellys]

thunderstruck ; part one

lazarus, or the return of jack kelly

Fandom: Newsies (All Media Types) Relationships: Jack Kelly/David Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer Word Count: 1,651 Dedications: a huge shoutout to my gf, beta reader, and number one fan @mistyw273​, and to @dimenovelcowboy​ for supporting me endlessly. tag list (if you’d like to be added to this list just send me an ask or dm!): @santa-fe-maniac​ @pulitzers-world​ @yo-let-me-get-a-milkyway​ @verified-dumbass​ @jewishdavidjacobs​ @agentsnickers​ @thetruthabouttheboy​ Author’s Note: hey readers! i want to start by saying thank you so much for all the support and interest so far—i was honestly not expecting to get so much feedback with just the introduction but i'm really thrilled so many people are here for the ride! i figured i would go ahead and put part one up; this is the only back-to-back update i'll be doing, but i wanted to have more than the prologue out there. from this point forward i'm going to try bi-weekly updates on tuesdays and fridays (that's tentative and subject to change depending on how things carry on, though!). again, thank you for your interest and i really really appreciate the feedback, it honestly means the world to me. with that, let's get on with part one! 

read it on ao3

five months later.

JACK DOESN’T KNOW WHEN he started running, and doesn’t know where to stop.

Right now the world is this hazy, deafening thing. The streets loop endlessly around him, too bright and too loud, a mix of over-saturated colors and sounds he can’t pull apart. In the middle of it all he feels as if he’s drowning. He’s drugged up to his eyes, this much he can tell—there’s little else that he’s aware of, though, except for his feet pounding against the pavement and this base, animalistic instinct in the back of his brain telling him to go. To run and run and keep running. 

So he does. Buildings and road signs and people dissolve into background noise as he tears through the streets. Someone is after him; as disoriented as he is, he’s sure of it, and it’s that hot rush of fear that keeps him going more than anything else. A spike of adrenaline pushing him forward. 

Maybe he’s lost them miles ago, but it’s not until the moment he thinks his legs will give out underneath him that he collapses against the back wall of an alleyway, sputtering for a breath. His lungs burn and he feels dizzy, but Jack pushes past the blurred images in his head and the low ringing in his ears to catalog what he knows. His name is Francis—no. He swallows dryly and starts again. His name is Jack Kelly. He’s eighteen, maybe nineteen, now, depending on how much time has passed. He’s an art student, and a superhero, and there was a fire, and then—

And then everything fills up with static and the feeling of hands on his skin and this harsh, chemical smell. His stomach turns. 

Jack hates feeling like this, like he’s been separated from his own thoughts. The lack of control that comes with the clouded figures where his memories should be is enough to make him vulnerable in a way he hasn’t felt in years, exposed like a copper wire that’s been stripped of its casing. 

And the current—that’s gone altogether. There are silver cuffs biting into the skin of his wrists; the seam that held them together is broken along a jagged edge, but the slim band of green light lining them means they’re still suppressing his powers. Jack aches for the buzz of electricity to come back, needs them off. He twists his hands desperately and in doing so, makes his drug-addled brain suddenly aware of a cold piece of metal clenched in his fist.

He opens his palm. It’s a flash drive. His mind dredges up a fuzzy memory of ripping it from a computer port in what he thinks might have been a control room. He doesn’t know what it contains, but if he’d held onto it so desperately that it became second nature, then it must be important. He needs to find a computer, he thinks abruptly, and then stands up and immediately sways on his feet. 

Okay—okay. Not yet, maybe. Before that, he needs food and water and rest. He needs the lodging house, except he has no idea where he is, and in the state he’s in, he barely knows which way is up. He needs—he needs to call Crutchie.

Jack is struck suddenly by the overwhelming desire to hear his pseudo-brother’s voice, strong enough that his chest physically hurts from it. It’s been—weeks, maybe? months?—the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other since they were kids. If he can get his hands on a phone and get Crutchie on the line, he thinks, then powerless and drugged or not, he’ll be okay. 

It’s not much of a plan, but it’s a start. All he has to do is find a phone. This is easier said than done, though; there’s still a payphone booth left next to a nearby subway station, rusted from lack of use, but he doesn’t have any money. He’s aware of how he must look, a boy in tattered clothes with cloudy eyes and words slurred together, begging for change. More than one person threatens to call the police. Most of them just push him away. Jack feels his desperation pitching upward quickly, tightening in his throat.

When a stranger finally hands him a few quarters with a wary look, he’s not sure if it’s fear or pity or some combination of the two that makes her do it. He’s grateful all the same. He rushes over to the booth, blood roaring in his ears from the anticipation. His hands are shaking so hard that his fingers stumble over the keypad, but he knows Crutchie’s number by heart, is sure he could dial it in his sleep. It goes to voicemail and Jack shoves the receiver against his ear.

“Crutchie, it’s me—it’s Jack. Please pick up.”

When he slides the second quarter into the slot and calls again, it barely has a chance to ring.

“Jack is dead.” Crutchie’s voice comes through, wavering. Jack almost chokes on his relief.

“I’m not,” he says, and there’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, and then a noise that sounds like a broken sob. 

“No—”

“Crutchie, I’m here. It’s me. I’m not dead.”

“How…”

“I don’t know,” Jack says, truthfully. 

“You—you can’t—fuck, Jack.” And in the middle of everything, Jack is caught off guard because Crutchie almost never swears. There’s a long quiet, broken by just the static-filled sound of Crutchie crying. Jack’s own cheeks are wet. “It’s been five months,” he gasps finally. “I thought—we all thought you died in that fire. Holy shit. Where have you been?”

Jack’s head spins. He hadn’t even realized how much time has passed. Five months...it’s June now, then, and the spring semester of classes is already over, and he’s nineteen, and there’s this gaping chasm of lost time in his head—

“—ck? Jack.” 

He realizes that Crutchie is calling his name abruptly, and Jack blinks, trying to clear his thoughts. “Yeah, I-I’m here. I don’t—everything’s fuzzy, Crutchie, I don’t know what happened, where I’ve been—” His words trip and stumble over each other. “I’m gonna try and find my way back to the lodging house, I’ve just gotta—”

“No, no, wait, you can’t,” Crutchie cuts him off, suddenly fierce. Jack pauses.

“What do you mean?”

His response is quieter this time, tentative. Slow, like he’s walking on his toes. “Jackie...how much do you know about what’s been going on?” 

Dread pools in Jack’s chest, hot and fast. For as long as they’ve known each other, he’s only heard Crutchie sound like this, scared and small and hesitant, a few times before. Something has gone deeply wrong; he knows it in an instant, maybe should have realized it even before now. “What is it, Crutchie?” he demands.

Crutchie takes a shuddering breath. “They said you set the fire,” he says, and Jack’s stomach plummets. “It was all over the news—they said the hospital wasn’t an accident, that Strike—that you—had planned the whole thing, did it on purpose.”

“No...” Jack feels nauseous, dizzy, sure in that moment that he’s going to be sick all over the pavement. His memories of the hospital brim with fear and heat and voices that echo in his skull, and the idea that the public believes he’s the cause of that, of all that death and destruction, hurting innocent people—he can’t stomach it. Doesn’t know how to.

“Jack, people were angry. Really angry. Not just at Strike—there was a whole new anti-super wave, worse than it’s ever been before, and now everyone thinks supers are dangerous and they started... taking people.” Crutchie’s voice goes even lower as Jack feels his heart crawl up into his throat. “They—we call them Snatchers, we think they’re in league with the police—they’ve surrounded the lodging house and swarmed half the city, dragging kids with powers off to someplace called the Refuge.”

Everything goes hot and sharp for a moment, a quick snap of recognition that burns like fire. Jack tastes metal in his mouth, chokes on it. “That’s where I was,” he says hollowly. He knows it even through the fogginess in his head.

“Oh, Jackie,” Crutchie begins, but Jack doesn’t let him finish.

“Are the others—is everyone okay? Race, Specs, Elmer—did they get taken?” The lodging house is a frequent stop for super kids who need a place to spend the night, but the three of them and Jack are the only permanent residents that have powers. If the Snatchers found them, they’d have been dragged off to the same fate that Jack has only just escaped. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Crutchie says yes.

“They’re holed up with Spot in Brooklyn,” Crutchie replies, and Jack lets himself exhale. “I haven’t been talking to them a whole lot, because they’re trying to stay under the radar, but the last time I heard from them, they were okay.” He gives a rattled sort of laugh, devoid of humor and more exhausted than anything. “Shit, Jackie. Everything fell apart without you.”

Jack passes a hand over his face, wants to cry. Wants to scream and tell Crutchie that he’s lost and drowned and terrified, that he feels more helpless than he’s ever been, that for all the time he’s spent playing hero he doesn’t know how to save anyone from this. Instead, though, he sets his jaw. “I’m gonna fix this, Crutchie,” he says, half-promise and half-prayer. He’ll find a way.

“Jack—” Crutchie begins, but what he’s going to say next Jack doesn’t find out. The timer clicks, and there’s a robotic female voice in place of Crutchie’s that tells him the call has timed out. 

The line goes dead and then Jack is alone all over again, the vow he made weighing as heavy as the shackles on his wrists. 

[guillotinedangel]

Day 01. RESET

Based on the January 2019 prompt list published by @downwithwritersblock

The future is now.

Author: @blackpaladintshirogane

Ship: Klance

Characters: Keith, Lance, Acxa, Zethrid, Ezor.

Warning: S8 spoilers, offensive language.

Summary: During a BOM benefic delivery, Keith encounters a rebel resistance Galra group that attacks him an puts his life in jeopardy. Fearing he may die anytime even thought the war is over, he flies to Altea to find Lance and confess his feelings.

Song:

"Keith, do you copy?"

Acxa's voice sounded, worried, on the other side of the comms. She had been trying for a while now to reach her captain, but there was no sign of him since he had gone down to the planet they were currently in, looking for signs of life they could help.

Now that the war was over, the Blade of Marmora had been renewed. They were still incredible skilled warriors but now their duties had been changed to deliver help to the places in the Universe that had been affected by the battles and the destruction. They usually did not have any trouble but today it had been different and Keith, who always took the responsibility of patrolling the area before landing, was not answering his team's call.

"Maybe we should go down ourselves, just in case" Ezor suggested, also worried by the lack of answer.

"Give the little one a bit more time. He's tough" Zethrid added.

"This is weird"

Acxa worked on the ship's panel of control, trying to look for anything she could possibly do, but she got jack.

Meanwhile, on the ground , Keith was running for his life.

Panting, with his lungs already aching every time he gasped for air, the boy was trying to escape his persecutors, who he could hear, yelling to each other, only a few steps behind him.

The attack had taken him by surprise, but, still, he was punishing himself for being so careless. If he hadn't been agile enough, his blood would be painting a beautiful canvas on the rocky landscape of the planet.

It had been Garla, nonetheless, the ones who had tried to kill him. Maybe that was the reason why he was running and not fighting back: the shock he had upon seeing the purple skinned soldiers, referring to him as paladin of Voltron, even though it had been years since the lions had abandoned them.

"Acxa!! Ezor!! Zethrid!! Somebody!? Do you copy me!?" he shouted over the comms between gasps, but the plain and cold static answered him.

Tired already, desperately trying to reach his team for help, Keith did not see the rift splitting the ground in two at his feet and he fell right on it, with a cry of pain, hitting his ribs on the ledge and spraining his right ankle on the deep hole. Soon enough, he was able to feel the warm blood running, tickling his skin under his tight suit.

He struggled to get himself out, not caring about injuring himself even more, but in vain. The rift was shallow but too narrow, so he was trapped on it. Little was worth all his screaming and cursing, and then a shadow hovered over him and the click of a gun and an evil laugh reached his ears.

"Look at you. The mighty Red Paladin, trapped like a rat in a hole on the ground. Pathetic"

"Fuck you" Keith growled , angryly, which earned him a kick on the head that made him spit blood out of his mouth.

"Shut it, and try not to keep spilling blood over my new skin trophy. Now. You're gonna be a good boy, and tell us where the rest of your team is"

"What are you even barking about? Haven't you heard the war is over?"

Keith could almost hear how the big warrior gritted his sharp teeth.

"We know, but you worms are still alive. That's insulting to us, to the memory of our great Emperor Zarkon. You destroyed it all!! We want our revenge!!"

"Then get me out of here and I'll show you the blade Zarkon tasted!!"

His words had the effect required and the soldier grabbed Keith by his neck and raised him in the air and out of the rift like a flower out of its soil, to throw him on the ground under his feet with anger. The boy twisted in pain to the impact. He probably had a few ribs broken.

"I'll break every single bone in your tiny body"

"Fuck you" Keith cursed again at him, but before the soldier could even point his gun at him, he was brought down alongside his companions by three figures that appeared out of nowhere.

"Keith!!" Acxa shouted, upon seeing her captain on the floor, the blood starting to shine through the dark fabric of the suit.

The three warriors ran to help him.

"The blade Zarkon tasted?? Do you have a death wish? " Zethrid faced him while Acxa and Ezor inspectioned his wounds.

"Stupid human" Acxa mumbled between her teeth, "It wasn't even you who finished Zarkon. It was Lotor"

"Who cares. I had to win some time and it worked, right? " Keith whispered, feeling how the exhaustion was starting to catch up to his muscles and brain.

"They were going to kill you!"

"No. I can't... I can't die. I have to do something first"

"Yeah? Like what?"

____________________________________________

The day had dawned sunny and warm, and Lance was heading for the orchard to take care of his crops, with one of the altean kids that lived alongside him and other alien families on the farm he had retired to after the war was over, seeking peace of mind and relaxation after all the stress and fear that it had brought upon them. What he did not expect to receive were the news of the arrival of a stranger warrior out of the mouth of another of the children that were running around, and even less it being Keith in the flesh.

"Wow, that mullet gets worse with the years" Lance jokingly said as soon as his former partner was close enough to hear him.

Keith laughed to his words, but he merely managed to scoff. His broken ribs pained him too much to actually burst a laughter and, even though he tried to hide it, he was limping. Also, Lance knew him all too well.

"Are you okay?" the Cuban asked, with a worried look on his blue eyes.

"Just a mission that went wrong. Nothing to worry about"

Lance raised an eyebrow.

"A mission? I thought the Blade was doing humanitarian work now?"

"Um, yeah we do..." Keith wondered his eyes away from Lance's, "But I... Found myself with some old glories that recognized me. And they weren't nice to me"

"Okay, you're coming with me now. You need to lay down"

Keith half smiled upon seeing Lance's face, frowning with a troubled look. He would have tried to argue with him over it, but he knew there would be no way to make him desist, so he followed his friend to his home, were Lance made him lay on a very comfortable couch while he made some hot coffee.

"There you go" he said, offering him a cup, "Now would you tell me why you're here? Do you need a place to heal your wounds? You can stay if you want"

The offering took Keith by surprise. He hadn't even thought about that possibility.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah! We have plenty of room here and I could use..." Lance stopped himself before saying what was roaming his mind and blushed to the very thought of even telling Keith what he actually wanted to say, "You'd be welcome"

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"The sentence you didn't finish" Keith teased him, accommodating himself on the couch.

"Stay on your back" Lance ordered him in a soft voice, avoiding the question at the same time.

"I'll stay if you make me"

"Wha... What?"

Lance's face lighted up like a lighthouse and Keith smiled softly at him.

"I came here for a reason, Lance. I... I almost died in this mission--"

"You what!?"

"Let me finish! Dammit! Those soldiers almost killed me and the thing is... I could not stop thinking about... About how much I regretted not visiting you more often. Not... Talking to you since months ago. Not being by your side"

"What do you mean with all that, Keith?"

"Fuck! Lance!" Keith snapped, making a pinch of pain flood his chest on the process, "I'm not good with this feelings shit..."

The Cuban boy smiled.

"You mean to tell me you missed me, mullet?" Lance asked with a cheeky grin.

"Yes but, not only that"

Keith's cheeks started to dye red as he spoke. He wanted to shout it at Lance, but what if his friend did not feel the same?

Suddenly Lance raised from his seat and approached him, kneeling by his side, on the floor.

"What else then?" he asked with shiny eyes, placing his hand on Keith's knee. His altean marks seemed to flash for a second.

"I... I was scared, Lance. I thought I'd die and I'd never see you again. I'd never get to tell you that... Fuck... That I love you, dammit. That's it, I said it, now you can reject me or hate me if you want"

Keith stared into the black liquid that filled his mug, trying to ignore the feeling of crying that was crowling its way up his chest. He was regretting his words right now. Lance was still probably mourning Allura. He could see it on his eyes every year when they met before her statue to remember her. There was still love shinning in them.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have--"

But his words died on his throat as Lance leaned forward and pressed his lips against his', catching him by surprise.

"I love you too" the boy answered, breaking the kiss after a few seconds.

Warm tears streamed down Keith's cheeks, releasing all the pressure he had been feeling inside. Lance ran quick to hug him.

"Careful" Keith said between sobs, "My ribs"

"Sorry" Lance tried to pull back, but Keith wrapped him with one arm and pulled him back to his chest.

"I don't care about the pain. I just need you close now"

They stayed like that in silence for a few minutes until Lance broke the silence.

"You think it's too late to join the Blade?"

"What?"

"Well this calm life... Is driving me nuts. I wanna go back up there. With you"

Keith smiled wide and planted a quick kiss on Lance's lips.

"I guess I can find a suit for my sharpshooter"

–Chimera.

[carnivalrecs]

sigh.

It is currently 00:16 and I am about to get into this (probably) lengthy review even though my heart is absolutely shattered.

So firstly, lemme just compliment you on your writing skills because HOLY HELL YOU’RE AMAZING!! Everything was so amazingly depicted! No joke, I felt like I was watching a movie. That’s how vividly I could picture the scenes in my head. Also! Your portrayal of Y/N?? Absolutely *chef’s kiss*. For me, the way she acted was totally realistic,, even though she seemed a bit cliche on the beginning. But then I was like "I'd probably act the same way ngl" so if I'm sort of cliche to💀😭 (I love cliches tho - don't worry).

And the plot??

Love. Absolutely LOVED! Like I just loved the plot,, that's all I can say. I'm so sorry I wish I could better articulate how much I LOVED ur plot😭Ugh,, the concept of the cupid club is just so cool, yknow? Like I'd probably join to, just for the heck of it. Or maybe nawt, seeing as what happened to my beloved Y/N and Heeseung.

Y/n and Heeseung.

😭😭😭😭😭Y/N AND HEESEUNG😭😭😭😭😭

Fuck!! I almost wished you were shitty at describing their relationship so that the ending wouldn't have HURT me this badly🤧But the playful bantering😔 Hee covering Y/N with his denim jacket as she was sleeping in the library🥺 The dual pov where we could get a glimpse into both Y/N and Hee's perspective of each other💔 They were so perfect for each other omg😖 IT ONLY MADE THE ENDING WORSE (IN A GOOD WAY).

And also one scene that really stood out to me was when Y/N and Ryujin went to the frat house. And I was so fucking stupid cause I never even saw it coming CAUSE BRUH?? Like Hee fr fr mentioned how he needed a distraction and I KNEW what he meant but it only clicked in my brain when I was picturing the scene in my head. Like "oh, Y/N is at hoon's place. Oh wait🤔 doesn't hoon live with hee?? 😄😀😃 And isn't hee... yknow😧😦" AND THEN I FUCKING KNEW WHAT WAS ABOUT TO GO DOWN I WAS SCREEMING WHEN SHE SHOVED HIM BACK INTO HIS HOUSE BC FUCKING SAME GIRL💔 HE WOULD NOT HAVE WITNESSED THOSE TEARS TODAY

BUT ALSO☝️MY favourite part, or ig, my favourite line was "a promise would be broken".

A PROMISE WOULD BE BROKEN??

Like it's so fucking simple but it just hit me so hard bc they were so genuinely happy when their pinkies were intertwined... and the A😭 PROMISE😭 WOULD😭 BE😭BROKEN😭 Idk I just thought that it was super genius of you for creating that scene. I loved it!!

And now.

Onto Yeeun.

Yeeun. That fucking bitch. I'm gonna write a whole paragraph about how I absolutely despised her ass. Because firstly, fuck you. Fuck YOU and the women who birthed YOU and brought you into this godforsaken world you absolute WENCH. I loved how Y/N saw straight through her bullshit and still defended her... But that ungrateful mfer had the nerve!! The fucking AUDACITY to still send Y/N rude messages like it's OUR fault that Heeseung didn't want her pushy ass. Like bitch, I hope ur fucking literature career flops and you get what you fucking deserve. GOD I HATED HER SO FUCKING MUCH (which means that you did a fucking great job of building her into the perfect villain👌☺️)

Overall, this was an amazing fic. I genuinely would say more but this IS a bit long so I'll just stop here💀 but yknow what, I genuinely loved that Y/N was just so grounded in her morality. Even though she fucking loved Hee (God bless him😞), she still did what she thought was right. And I know (or I don't know really), but a lot of people may have been hoping for a happy ending. But I'm glad there wasn't one. bc sometimes you just can't set aside ur personal feeling. And Y/N alluded it to herself. Hee has a reputation. And she's seen the way he operates. How would it be possible to be in a relationship if she was constantly wondering if anything was genuine. And when she's so clouded in guilt☹️

Thank you for writing this! Truly. It's been a while since I read something that just left me feeling that pang in my chest, and ur fic made me feel it😔 also, I know that you've put out a masterlist with plans for the rest of the hyung line also set in this cupid au. I'm really looking forward to it. And also wishing you the best of luck and warding off any potential writers block lol

CUPID’S LAW | NEVER FALL IN LOVE

PAIRING › Play boy! Heeseung x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS › After a bland highschool experience, you immediately gravitate to your university’s most outrageous matchmaking club, “The Cupid Club.” Your job was simple: to collect information on your client’s love interest and then pair them together. After two years on your “job,” everything became less horrific and getting couples together almost seemed like a natural occurrence. That is until you’re tasked to collect information on Lee Heeseung, the infamous rugby captain who is coincidently known as the biggest player on campus.

GENRE› college au, angst (I said it was major angst in the preview, but after writing it, I realized that it’s not actually that sad), consultant! reader x rugby captain! Heeseung, heartbreak, crack, fluff

WARNING(S) › swearing, heavy drinking, mentions of sex

WORDCOUNT › 18.4k (I apologize beforehand)

NOTES › This is my entry for @jungwoniics ’ “just out of reach” collab

Love was an unexplained phenomenon that entwined souls together. It was an experience of rather difficult trifles which blossomed into ultimate bliss. To be with someone you found truly admirable and to lead a life with them for as many years as they lasted was society’s idea of a dream come true. Love seemed to be something like a goal to people, while to others, it was rather a burden. To you, it was a lackluster ordeal filled with complications and hurdles — an experience you didn’t want to indulge in.

You hated when September strolled along. Every autumn leaf gracefully leaving the comfort of the branches to experience the harsh winter chills yet again this cycle. It was similar to all the young adults who traveled distances away from the warmth of their homes to lead a rather dreadful college life.

The giddy freshmen were always entertaining to watch. The yearning they all had to start fresh, lead a new life, to grow, and become a part of society.

That is what college was

A greater look into society.

Keep reading

[bruiserelliot]

Shamchat wouldn't let me post this, so yeah

This is a conversation between Pidge and yourself, Lance.

Lance: Lance walked into the green lion's hanger, seeing Pidge hunched over a computer, the screen's light reflecting in her glasses."Have you been here all night?"

Pidge: She glanced up at him briefly, then went back to looking at her screen. "Are you surprised?"

Lance: "Not really, but it was a good seg-way for this." He put himself between her and the computer."C'mon Pidge, you haven't been sleeping alot, don't try to deny it, your eyes have more baggage than Keith."

Pidge: Pidge sighed and reached around him for her laptop. "I'm busy, Lance. And I can take care of myself."

Lance: "You're always busy, you always have been busy, and you refuse to take a break." He replied, blocking the way to the laptop."One of these days you're gonna overwork yourself!" He crossed his arms as he finished speaking

Pidge: She stood. "Maybe. And it's none of your fucking business if I do. /Move/."

Lance: "Yes it is!" He retorted."You're my teammate, more importantly, my friend and I don't wanna see you hurt, especially because of yourself." He said. It was one of the most serious things he said to her since Shiro had gone missing.

Pidge: Pidge slowly closed her eyes. She didn't expect him to get it. "Lance, just fuck off."

Lance: Lance narrowed his eyes. He hated himself for what he was about to say, but then again he already hated himself for so many other things, and it was also probably the only way he'd get her to listen."What would your brother say if he knew you were overworking yourself?"

Pidge: She laughed humorlessly. "If I ever see him again, I'll ask him."

Lance: Lance's expression softened."Pidge don't say that." He sighed."Look, you're smart, definitely the smartest person on this ship, you're gonna find your family, but you still need to look after yourself."

Pidge: She put her hands on her hips. "And you need to stay out of it. Now get out."

Lance: Lance matched her pose."Not until you promise me that you'll at least get some sleep tonight." He retaliated.

Pidge: Pidge rolled her eyes. "Sure, Lance. Now leave."

Lance: Lance leaned forward."I'm being serious here for once, that should show just how much everyone's worried about you, they're just all scared of you blowing up at them if they say anything. So, please, promise me, for real this time, or I'll bring Hunk in here and he'll use the puppy dog eyes."

Pidge: Pidge groaned. "Okay, I don't have time for this right now, we'll talk about it later or something, just /move/."

Lance: Lance sighed."Fine..but we are definitely talking later." He told her as he got out of her way. The hunk threat was emptier than the healing pods at the moment, but he had thought she would have stopped fighting at that point. He put his hands in his pockets, glancing at her screen. it was the footage of Matt she'd found at the prison.

Lance: He stalked out of the hanger, closing the door behind him. He turned around, seeing the others hovering outside the door."Well?" Allura pressed. Lance sighed."She said we'd talk about it later. I don't think she meant it though." He frowned. Keith growled."Why is she doing this?" He refrained from punching the wall. Lance looked at him."Well what would you do if you had a lead on Shiro? Probably the same thing. Look, just, I'll talk to her later, she's gonna have to come outta there some time.

Pidge: Pidge went back to reviewing all five seconds of footage she had for the billionth time, the futility of the situation hitting her again. She'd analyzed everything there was to analyze. Twice. Unless she was missing something, there wasn't anything more she could do. It was /hell/. Sure, she knew he was alive, or he had been not long ago, but what then? Maybe he was safe, maybe he was being held captive, maybe the group who broke him out had pumped him for information and killed him. It was impossible to know and she had no way of figuring out where they'd taken him. At least with the Galra, she'd had a vague idea of what he was going through. Meanwhile, she hadn't found anything on her dad at all. The situation was bleak and she was exhausted and they'd lost Shiro and everything was a fucking mess and there was nothing she could do but pore over the same stupid clip over and over again for hours at a time. Lance was right, she'd have to come out some time, but not for a long while.

Lance: ~le magical timeskip to a few hours later~

Lance: Lance sat outside the door, looking at the green headphones in his lap. Back when they had first come, it had been much harder for him to get to sleep since he couldn't listen to his music without headphones. So, Pidge had given him her headphones, saying that since she could get a primary source of information, she wouldn't need them anymore. And god it had helped so much. He wanted to do something like that for her. He didn't want her to feel the way he did. She was too good for that. It's not like he could get her family back, but he did wanna show her that she had another family here on the ship, even if it was a little broken at the moment. He considered knocking on the door, but figured that would just end the same way it had that morning. It would be better to let her come to him.

Pidge: Hours later and Pidge couldn't focus anymore. She also hadn't eaten in... awhile. Oops. Totally exhausted and a little defeated, she decided it was probably time to eat breakfast (lunch? dinner? what time was it?). She yawned, stretched, then finally left Green's hangar.

Lance: Lance jumped as he heard the door open and turned to see Pidge."Uh..hey." He stood up and handed the headphones to her."I figured you might wanna hear Matt in better sound quality." He smiled a little bit, but it dropped a few seconds after."I-I'm sorry about earlier, I was probably just being annoying and that was definitely not a good way to go about trying to help." He rambled.

Pidge: Pidge hadn't really been expecting anyone to be waiting for her and she blinked at him as her brain caught up with the situation, then pressed her headphones back into Lance's hands. "Thanks, but you can't hear him anyway." She started off for the kitchen again. "Don't worry about it."

Lance: Lance smiled a little and put the headphones around his neck and followed her."So, no luck yet?" He asked. He already knew the answer, but if he got her talking maybe she'd consider trying to sleep.

Pidge: She tensed, just slightly. "No."

Lance: Lance frowned, then considerably brightened as he remembered the morning meeting Pidge had missed."Wait a sec, Coran mentioned something earlier about an overtaken galra base, what if he's there?!" He exclaimed.

Pidge: She shook her head. "That wouldn't make any sense. The group that took him was clearly well-organized. You'd have to be a fucking idiot to take over a Galra base and stay there. The Galra wouldn't stand for it, they'd annihilate the place."

Lance: Lance frowned at that."Oh...yeah, you have a point." He sighed as he opened the door to the kitchen, but jumped back as he saw everyone staring at him and Pidge. There was a second or two of silence, then everyone rushed forward, glad that Pidge was finally out of the hanger. Lance sort of stood to the side. He looked at Coran, who was doing the same."You're sure that base is still there?" He hissed. Coran shrugged."Dunno, we haven't received another message yet." Meanwhile, Hunk and Allura were practically Pushing Pidge to the table, while Keith laughed his ass off at their pushiness.

Pidge: Clearly, she'd timed her break incredibly poorly. Lance had been more than enough company on his own. She was /really/ not in the mood to contend with all of them all at once, especially when they were so eager. In truth, it all struck her as a little overdramatic; she'd been working, it wasn't a big deal. But she let herself be herded around and pretended to listen as they spoke, not saying much herself.

Lance: What Pidge probably hadn't realized, was that she'd been working for three days straight. It was hard to tell in space when you didn't have a perfectly timed sun. Lance had just happened to be the first one to notice. Said boy sat down at the table."C'mon guys leave her alone, you guys have done just as worse things before." He said, gladly shoveling in the food goo. Hunk looked at him."Oh yeah, name one time!" Lance swallowed, then looked up."When you slept in the kitchen for a week to figure out a new recipe." Allura laughed at that. Lance looked to her next."When you tried to reverse the gravity of the pool after Pidge changed it for us. It took you 9 hours to quit." He looked to Keith."And this one once spent two days in the simulator at the garrison." He was about to turn to Coran. "Alright alright, save me the embarrassment." The ginger replied.

Pidge: Pidge at her food goo without really tasting it and let the conversation swirl around her without actually joining in. Part of her brain was still back in the hangar, trying to work through anything else she could possibly be doing. Once she'd finished eating, she took care of her dishes and left for the hangar again. Maybe she'd take her laptop and move her base of operations to the lab. As much as she appreciated Green's company, it might've been time for a change in scenery.

Lance: The others watched as the youngest member of their team left. Keith turned to Lance."Does that count as a break to her?" He blinked. Lance shrugged."I guess so. But we'll just have to take what we can get." He stood up, shoving his hands back in his pcokets.

Lance: pockets*

Pidge: Pidge did wind up moving to the lab after all. She settled in and got to work, but only made it a few more hours before she finally passed out. Despite her best attempts, she was still only human.

Lance: Lance walked down the halls, looking for his young friend. He suddenly heard snoring, and followed the sound. When he found her in the lab, he chuckled and shut down her equipment, knowing she'd kill someone if they let it overheat. After that, he picked her up and, since he didn't know where her room was, took her to his room. He put her down on his bed and draped the covers over her. She heavily reminded him of his own little sister back on earth. He laid down on the floor, figuring that if Pidge could sleep sitting up, draped over a desk, he could deal with the floor.

Pidge: ((gotta go, sorry!

[punkscowardschampions]

Fraze & Bea

Fraze: The fuck Fraze: We gonna act like last night didn't happen Bea: No Bea: I had to go up town, I've not got Fearghal a gift yet Fraze: Cheers for telling me Fraze: I woke up and you weren't fucking here Bea: It's not a big deal, I've not been here every other morning for however long and you've been just fine like Bea: Sorry, I forgot to leave a note Fraze: Fuck off. It's not every other morning Fraze: Are you? I can't go back to this bullshit Bea: Of course I am Bea: Don't actions speak louder? Bea: Well we will have to go back Bea: Summer don't last forever does it Fraze: These actions are saying something too, Bea Fraze: We don't have to do anything. Fuck that. What do you wanna do? Bea: Yeah but I didn't leave leave Bea: I thought about it but I couldn't Bea: Not yet Bea: You know, its truly amazing you made it through mandatory schooling with that authority aversion never mind optional Bea: Skipping's less fun now, huh? Fraze: Not ever Fraze: Come on, you know you got me through it Fraze: Don't do this Fraze: Come back and fucking talk to me Bea: Well, ditto Bea: you made everyone stop being such dicks to me Bea: you're just going to call me crazy Bea: and I am but I don't think I can hear it, never mind even try to explain what I'm thinking or feeling Fraze: I'd do it all again, every day of that shit Fraze: I know how you feel about me Fraze: Start there Bea: See, I don't want to, I don't want to go back to being that angry and scared and Bea: but I am Bea: even before he came out really, just being without you, having to work out who I am when I'm not part of BeaandFraze Bea: but its only gotten worse since, the timing had to have crossed your mind Bea: What if, its worse this time? And I've got bigger problems for you to sort than bitchy little girls Bea: I don't want that for you, it isn't part of the plan Fraze: Being without you was never part of the plan Fraze: I don't want that Fraze: Nothing can be worse than these months apart, not speaking, seeing you Bea: You deserve so much better Bea: That's what I should want for you, am trying to Bea: but I'm selfish and I can't stay away Fraze: Bullshit Fraze: We're the same Fraze: Not being close to you makes me wanna die Fraze: I feel like I am Bea: Fraze Bea: I don't know who I am, I'm changing, I don't think I can be who you want any more Fraze: You're not who you were when you were 7 or 17 Fraze: I loved you then Fraze: I love you now Fraze: I've changed. I'm not asking you to stay the same Bea: I want to be who I was when I was good Bea: because what if you stop? Bea: and I'm stuck being someone I don't like and someone you can't love Fraze: Fuck good and bad, it ain't that simple Fraze: We aren't, none of us Fraze: I've fucked up, have you stopped loving me? Fraze: You can't control this shit like that, babe Bea: No Bea: but you're not fucked up Bea: haven't been fucked up, made dirty, broken Bea: I know but I can't control anything these days Bea: I'm a wreckhead, like you said Bea: You should be with someone whole Fraze: Fuck off of course I am Fraze: And you know the whole story, same as I know you aren't broken or dirty. That's him Fraze: I shouldn't have said that. I'm a cunt. I didn't mean it Fraze: I should be with you. I want to be Bea: What if that's what it is, a story Bea: that we told ourselves to get through it Fraze: It's real Fraze: Everything I feel and everything I've done, bad shit included Bea: but am I? Bea: I'm just fake fake fake Bea: I don't wanna be me, have my backstory, I want to be better, do better Bea: but its never going away is it Fraze: Nah. You're the truest thing I've got Fraze: If it wasn't it wouldn't fucking hurt this bad Fraze: You're gonna do fucking epic things. You already have Bea: I really am sorry, you believe me now, don't you? Bea: We were Bea: Together Bea: Why did it go so wrong? Fraze: I always did, babe Fraze: I couldn't handle how sorry I was. Or that it wasn't enough Fraze: We listened to other cunts instead of each other. Ourselves Fraze: We know what we want and what we've gotta do. Always have, yeah? Bea: It wasn't your fault Bea: None of it Bea: but I had to use any ammo I could get my hands on Bea: Yeah Bea: I'm just terrified of not getting it Bea: If you leave it fucks up the whole equation, I don't want any of the rest without you Fraze: I've gotta take my share of the blame Fraze: You've gotta let me Fraze: I fucked around. I hurt you. It doesn't fucking matter if that's what we agreed Fraze: I wanted to hurt you 'cause I was hurting not having you Fraze: 'Cause I'm the cunt not smart enough for Cambridge Fraze: Maybe I'll hold you back from it all Bea: But you ain't a mind reader Bea: you were just respecting what I said I wanted Bea: even if I was just bullshitting, that's on me Bea: No one here has half your brains Bea: just big big funds and an ego to match Bea: You wouldn't, you never have, you push me Fraze: But I knew you didn't want it. Me either Fraze: I should have fucking said. Before now Fraze: I push too hard. Always have Fraze: I'm sorry, Bea Bea: Why did you do it then? If you didn't want to Bea: That's so messed up, I'm sorry Bea: you could've just pretended like I did Bea: No, I need it Bea: I need you Bea: I wouldn't be where I am without you, I wouldn't be anywhere Fraze: See, I'm fucked Fraze: I wanted you to tell me to stop Fraze: When you didn't I reckoned I was wrong, that you did want to go along with this bullshit like Fraze: And then I couldn't stop 'cause I couldn't handle you being with anyone else Fraze: It's sick Bea: Oh, Fraze Bea: I thought it was what you wanted, needed Bea: I had to give you the chance to see if you were going to end up with someone else Bea: I already knew there was no one else for me but I couldn't stand it if you never had the chance Bea: see the world for yourself, without me there colouring your judgment Bea: I know it was the worst and the amount doesn't matter but it did only happen once, I'm not lying Fraze: How the fuck didn't you know I felt the same? Fraze: How else can I prove it? Fraze: You're what I need and want Fraze: The world is ours, babe Fraze: Still can be Bea: Yeah but it was fucking stupid 'cos neither of us could commit Bea: both of us too proud to admit defeat and call it quits Bea: We're both idiots Bea: Are you sure? Fraze: I'm a stupid cunt Fraze: But I know my own mind Fraze: Tell me we can start again Bea: We can start again Bea: where from though? Fraze: Million dollar fucking question like Fraze: How far back do you wanna go? Fraze: I want you to be safe not scared Bea: to just before we left Bea: that was the best time Fraze: Then we will Fraze: We can have it all again Bea: I love you Fraze: I love you Fraze: Come home Bea: Okay Bea: Can I stay? Fraze: I'm not letting you leave Bea: You have no idea how much I've missed you Fraze: I do Fraze: Tell me again though Bea: I'll go one better and show you Fraze: Good Fraze: Where are you? Fraze: I can come and pick you up Bea: Good idea Bea: bet there's already a houseful Bea: [sends location] Fraze: Yeah Fraze: I'm not sharing you Fraze: I'll leave now Bea: Get here now Fraze: Trust me it'll be worth the wait, babe Bea: That's a lot to live up to Bea: any time is too long, 2 months nearly kiled me Fraze: I know Fraze: It did kill me Bea: Well I best revive you then hm Fraze: Big talk Fraze: 10 minutes, yeah? Can you handle that Bea: If I must Bea: I'll do my best to survive like Fraze: Cheers Fraze: Appreciate it

[voguewoozi]

College au? I'll let your creativity run free from there ;D (also what the heck, I'm planning on my major/minor to be English too?)

College Freshmen Are Loud

Read it on ao3!  & send in a prompt!

Summary: The noise in Dan’s dorm hall is cutting into his sleep. Phil provides a solution

Word Count: 1.9k

Notes: thank u, ryanne. I love college aus :(( (we should talk majors)

Dan wakes up to the sound of a chair hitting a wall at 2:47 am, and he’s fine until he hears giggles that eventually grow louder. This is the fourth time this week that people on his floor have come back drunk, and honestly, it was annoying the first time. Now it’s cutting into his sleep and he has early morning classes that he wants to be conscious for. He breathes out exasperatedly and clenches his bed sheets for a second before rolling onto his side and covering his ears with his pillow.                It’s pretty effective, but he has to hold it in place and his arms start cramping after a minute and a half. He doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night.—“Are you alright? You look terrible,” is the first thing Dan hears when he enters his 7:40 lecture. If it were anyone but Phil, he’d say it put him in an even worse mood. He manages a smile, despite his brain feeling ten times slower than usual, and slumps down into the chair beside Phil.“Thanks. I got no sleep last night because the assholes on my floor think it’s funny to be extremely loud during all hours of the fucking night,” Dan says, sighing a bit melodramatically. He can’t help it. It sucks and there’s nothing he can do. He’s already tried moving, but there’s no empty singles, and he doesn’t want to even briefly entertain the thought of moving in with someone else. He gets it, he totally does. The idea of having a roommate is exciting for a lot of people; it’s just not for him. At all. He’s having a difficult enough time dealing with having people rooms away from him.“What do they do? Is it really that bad?” Phil asks. He’s smirking but Dan literally doesn’t have enough energy to roll his eyes.“I’m pretty sure one of them broke a window last night,” Phil laughs at that, and the sound makes him smile for the first time that morning. He kinda hates the effect Phil has on him, but he usually just elects to ignore it. There’s no chance Phil likes him. And he’s graduating this year. Surely the age difference would be weird. Does Phil even like guys?He’s broken out of his thoughts by a nudge to his side and he jumps slightly, remembering where he is.“You might wanna start taking notes,” Phil whispers, lines of words already covering his page. Dan can’t stop himself from blushing, but Phil’s attention is back on the professor.Dan sits there for an hour and fifteen minutes, sporadically taking notes and daydreaming before he finally gets to pack up his stuff. He’s thinking about grabbing something to eat before his next class, when a hand comes down on his shoulder.“Hey, if your hall is too loud again tonight, you’re always welcome to stay in my room. My roommate’s never around.” Dan is taken aback by Phil’s offer; for a second he thinks his sleep-deprived brain made it up. He’s silent and slack-jawed for a few seconds too long, and Phil’s face begins to look unsure.“You don’t have to or anything, I was just-”“No, I want to!” Dan says quickly, awkwardly grabbing Phil’s wrist in the process. They both look down and Dan lets go immediately, bringing his hand to the back of his own neck.“I mean, yeah, if I can’t sleep, right, I’ll do that,” he does a vague finger gun motion and hates himself.“Okay, so I’ll see you later, maybe?” Phil asks, and his smile is back but Dan’s heart is still beating a mile a minute.“Yeah, I’ll text you,” Dan sounds breathless and that’s because he is, he just hopes Phil doesn’t notice. He wouldn’t point it out if he did.“Cool,” it’s the last thing Phil says before he turns with a small wave and walks in the opposite direction Dan’s going. Dan feels like his skin is burning off, but he can’t stop smiling.—                He listens closely. It’s a little after 11, and for once he can’t hear anyone screaming, and he thinks that it’s probably because the world hates him. The cutest guy Dan’s ever seen in his life invites him to his room and for the first time since he moved in, these assholes are what? Asleep at a decent hour?                He rolls over in his bed, and closes his eyes for exactly six seconds before he makes his decision. He stands up and packs a set of clothes, and the books he needs for class tomorrow, and steps outside into the cold air.                For as much determination that he had on the walk to Phil’s dorm, when he’s actually outside his door, he hesitates. He brings his hand up to knock a few times, even thinking about going back to his room and just going to sleep because it’s getting late and he needs a few hours, at least.                He finally does it, three quick taps and his heart rate accelerates as he waits for it to open.                “Hey,” Phil says, calmly, stepping out of the doorway and gesturing for Dan to enter. Dan has only been in Phil’s room once for a minute, so he’s never had the opportunity to really look around. His eyes roam over the insignificant details, and he doesn’t realize Phil’s talking to him until he’s halfway through his sentence.                “-never around, like I said. So, that’s a plus, I guess,” Dan blinks, but when he doesn’t respond, Phil turns to face him.                “Uh, sorry, I wasn’t listening,” Dan says, stuttering and blushing. He should probably just lie down and try to forget any of this happening.                “It’s so quiet here,” he says instead, putting his backpack down and attempting to relax. He has nothing to worry about. Everything will be fine.                “This must be a completely new experience for you. How’s it feel?” Phil asks. It seems like it doesn’t matter what Phil does, Dan finds himself completely enamored, which is putting him at a slight disadvantage. He doesn’t think that’s really fair.                “It’s… weird. I think it’s almost too quiet.” Dan had gotten so used the ambient noise of talking and laughing that the quiet was a bit confounding.                “Well that won’t be a problem for long. I’ve been told that I talk in my sleep.” Dan’s eyes widen at the admission and Phil continues, “Not that I would know for sure. It’s not like I’m there when it happens.” Dan laughs, and he has to stop doing that, it wasn’t that funny. But Phil smiles, and Dan forgets his impulses all at once.                “Speaking of sleep, you probably want to do that now. That’s why you’re here.” Phil’s cheeks go pink for a change, and for a moment, Dan thinks it’s refreshing, but then he’s smiling. He can’t seem to catch a break.                “So… what are the…” Dan searches for an appropriate term, but the best he can come up with in under three seconds is “sleeping arrangements”. He hadn’t thought about the implications of the night before going over, and what did he think would happen? Phil only has one bed. Mathematically, only one thing works.                “Sleeping on the floor is no big deal to me, really. It’s fine,” Dan fills in quickly before Phil can get a word.                “What? No, I invited you over so you could finally get a good night’s sleep. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor,” Phil says, strongly, not leaving any room for argument.                “Well, it’s your room, so I can’t make you sleep on the floor,” Dan counters. As the last word falls off of his tongue, he understands what he said, what it could be construed to mean.                “Are you suggesting that we share the bed?” Despite his earlier embarrassment and uncertainty, Phil says this with a hint of a smirk on his lips. Dan wants to stop existing, but he also really wants to sleep in the same tiny twin-sized bed as Phil Lester. He’s almost certain that he’s never wanted anything more in his life.                “I mean… what I meant to say was, I wouldn’t have a problem with it seeing as we both just want to sleep, and you know, back support is an important thing. Can’t get that from the floor…” Dan feels more self-conscious with every passing second as Phil’s smug grin reaches more parts of his face. Like his eyes.                “Yeah, I agree. Should we go to sleep then?” Without waiting for a reply, Phil hops into his bed and pats the space next to him. It’s not a very big space, and that makes Dan simultaneously excited and terrified. How were they supposed to negotiate this? There weren’t very many comfortable positions they could find this way. After a moment of fidgeting limbs and rustling bed sheets, Phil’s arm comes to rest around Dan’s waist. His fingers trace a small pattern, and then he tenses.                “Is this okay? It’s the only comfortable place for my arm.” Dan smiles at the concern in Phil’s voice but his heart beat is erratic, and he’s worried Phil can feel it.                “Yeah, it’s fine,” Dan manages, nearly choking on the first syllable. He can’t believe this is actually happening.                “Goodnight, Dan.”                “Yeah, goodnight…”—                When Dan’s alarm goes off in the morning, he attempts to turn over but is stopped. His eyes shoot open and he remembers that he’s not in his room. Phil’s arm is still draped over him, slightly tighter now that he’s tried to move. He wonders how to go about this without it being too awkward, grabbing Phil’s hand and attempting to move him carefully so he doesn’t wake up. But then Phil’s hand squeezes and he breathes in, stretches and freezes. His grip loosens and his breathing stops for a moment.                Maybe he doesn’t know Dan is awake yet. He can play it off like he’s just waking up now. He’s a pretty good actor, he could pull it off.                “You’re gonna be late to class,” Phil says. His sleep-muddled voice startles Dan, and Phil definitely knows he’s awake now.                “Well, maybe I wouldn’t if you let go of me.” Dan has no idea what made him so bold all of a sudden, but he bites his tongue and holds his breath, waiting for a response.                “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Phil says, moving his arm back to his side. Dan feels relieved and disappointed all at once, but he sits up anyway. He’s about to get up to change and then leave when Phil grabs his hand again. He looks back at Phil and his messy hair and his perfect lips.                “You should come back when your class is over. We could get lunch or something.” Dan smiles softly and Phil’ thumb traces nervous circles onto the back of his hand.                “Yeah, sure, that’d be great,” Dan can’t stop his smile from growing and he probably looks stupid, but he doesn’t care.                “I’ll see you later then,” Phil says, bringing Dan’s hand to his lips for a brief second and then letting him go.                Dan never sleeps in his own bed again.