#sorry i wrote this at the crack of dawn and forgot to post it

[ley-med]

Hey! I want to apologise in advance because well I'm going to cry about my life in your asks and ruin your mood. I'm a second year? First year student? I'm not sure anymore. I had my first year final exams and got my results 2 days ago. I failed anatomy. Not by just a bit but by 18 marks. People who have not studied even a single day the whole year somehow passed. I was blaming the system, the checkers and what not but my mom kinda said that your failure is your fault more than anyone else's and she's not wrong. I always dreaded studying anatomy, I hated it cuz it was hard, maybe? Idk on the other hand i scored pretty good in biochemistry and physiology. I have a month roughly to prepare for my supplementry exams that are in February and if I pass I can rejoin my batch , I'll be with my friends again. But to study alone this month feels so difficult, fomo as my friends and classmates go to clinics and OT's constantly makes me anxious. My parents are very supportive, they were very positive and that I have gotten a chance to resolve my fear. My mental health is fluctuating so bad, a moment I'm so motivated that I can do it! And the next minute I'm in pits of sadness and dispair. Idk why im sharing all this but as a fellow in medical field I hope maybe i could have a word of encouragement or maybe a reality check. My friends believe hundred percent that I'll pass and I'm hopeful too but my anxiety does not rest. If I fail I'd have to repeat the year and be with my junior batch. Thank you for listening and I'm sorry again.

Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry, I feel your pain!

Do you know how many times I failed anatomy? Well I won't say the exact number because that's frankly embarrassing, but I'm probably on some sort of list of "worst students to ever disgrace the halls of the anatomy department"... I failed anatomy and biochemistry and had to repeat first year. Then I failed anatomy and physiology and had to retake second year too... Shit happens.

Do you know why they say med school is hard? It's because it is damn hard. Most students will fail some exams here or there, some will fail more than just a few exams, and very few will pass all of theirs. (Even those who don't study and somehow seem to always pass? Even their luck runs out sometimes). Sometimes it's unfair, and sometimes it's our fault.

Your exam results has nothing to do with how good of a doctor you will become! It's just school, nothing more, nothing less. See me, I was so bad at med school, just terrible at it, and now that I'm a doctor, I might not be the best ever out there, but I'm good at my job.

I know this sucks now, it sucks to fail, and it sucks to study again when you could be doing something else. But it's just an exam, not the end of the world. You cry, then you dry your tears, sit back, and study as hard as you can.

And there is no guarantee you will pass the next time either, passing is never ever guaranteed! You just study and hope for the best. And if you fail again, you cry some more, then realise that maybe your "study as hard as you can" wasn't really your hardest, or you realise you aren't studying effectively and you need to find a way of studying that better suits you. We all have to learn how to study...

And sometimes you just say, fuck it, and pass purely out of spite.

Anyways. Don't compare yourself to others. You live your life, not theirs. And unfortunately, yours now includes some more exams and studying... Allow yourself some time to wallow in despair, you absolutely deserve that relief, but after that, give yourself a pep talk sweetheart and get back to studying. And do something fun, and have some treats! You deserve that too!

And hey? You can do this! I believe in you, anon, you absolutely got this. Just be patient with yourself :)

[belovedwhore]

steve harrington x cheerleader!reader smut

warnings: fingering

notes: if there’s any grammatical errors i’m sorry, i wrote this at the literal ass crack of dawn and am going to sleep right after i hit post. lmk what you think of this and leave some suggestions on what scenarios i should write next. anyways enjoy my second ever smut

update: there will be a part two!!!! so stick around :)

you were a cheerleader and you loved it. having been on the squad since freshman year you were very good at what you did. and people loved watching you do the things you were good at, especially steve. lately steve harrington has been paying close attention to you, watching you cheer, winking at you, flirting. you weren’t sure why because although you were on the cheer squad for four years, most people weren’t interested enough to get involved with you.

“andddd that ends the game 27-20, leaving hawkins varsity football victorious once again!” the announcer roared over the speakers.

you stood on the sidelines cheering with the squad, in your green and white uniform. you loved your cheer uniform. when you put it on you felt like a whole new person, the top hugged your chest in all the right places and you were sure to wear your skirt length at a less than modest level of course, showcasing the curves of your ass but not too much that administration would flip. looking up into the crowds you saw him, steve harrington, who gave you a cheeky smile and winked, almost like he liked the view.

every friday night lights it was the same old thing. hawkins football wins again (we were surprisingly hard to beat). you yelled on the sidelines, shaking your poms poms in celebration of the continuation of football’s winning streak. and after every win everyone went out to the abandoned benny’s burgers, partied, went home, and the end. following your usual routine you headed to your car when you realized you’d left your cheer bag in the locker room.

“oh shit, guys i forgot my bag at the field. i’ll see you guys at benny’s,” you told your friends as you spun around on your heel and headed back towards the field.

pushing open the door to the locker room you look around for your bag, reaching under one of the benches you’d touched something slimy.

“ew, what the fuck,” you whispered to yourself while making your way to the sink to wash your hands.

while washing your hands you heard footsteps and as you looked to your right you were met with none other than steve. you stared at him for a few moments as he did back. and once reality set in you’d realized that you were in fact in the wrong locker room.

“oh hi steve,” you stammered, looking down washing your hands, “totally got the wrong locker room.”

“oh no you’re fine,” steve replied, moving up behind you, “i was actually hoping to run into you.”

“oh, what for?“ you questioned, as he came even closer behind you.

“just wanted to commend you on your cheerleading skills, and you look great in uniform,” he complimented.

“thanks,” you answered smiling to yourself.

brushing your hair to one side of your neck he whispered, “actually, you look great all the time.”

your breath hitched as you could feel him pressed up directly against your ass.

“can i kiss you?,” he asked.

you nodded slowly, muttering a small mhmm of approval. after your response he kissed your neck gently, right beneath your ear. from there he left a trail of kisses down the rest of your neck eventually leading to your shoulders.

suddenly he spun you around to face him, pushing you against the edge of the sink. finally he kissed your lips and you wasted no time to return the favor. it started off soft and sweet then gradually grew into a passionate, heated make-out session. he trailed his hands across your body starting by the side of your face down the curves of you back to your ass, kneading skin and grasping for ass much as he possibly can. you moaned into the kiss, at the feelings of his hands on your body. your hands immediately went to his hair, god his fucking hair, so long and soft and the perfect length to pull. as you moaned into the kiss you pulled steve’s hair, causing him to groan loudly.

you immediately broke away from the kiss apologizing, “oh my god was that too hard i’m sorry i-“

steve cut off your sentence, laughing. “no, no i like it,” he assured you, “see,”

he took one of your hands and slowly brought it down to his jeans, placing it on top of his bulge.

“that’s how much i like it,” he said.

nodding, you began to kiss him again, this time taking the lead with your hands wondering a little more. from the position he’d just put on of your hand in you began to palm his dick through his jeans, applying firm pressure, rubbing back and forth. he started to moan a lot louder, struggling to stifle his groans. he took one of the hands from your ass and slipped it under your skirt, briefly swiping through your folds while doing so. you gasped loudly, moaning from pleasure.

“ah so you like that,” he teased.

you nodded while letting out a small moan. steve picked you up from under your ass and placed you on the sink. after setting you down his hand took its place back under your skirt but with a lot more room this time. he rubbed his thumb against your clit, earning a collection of moans from you, each louder than the last.

“oh my god, steve,” you moaned, muffled as your head fell to steve’s chest in pleasure.

suddenly you felt two fingers push into your pussy causing you to jolt up off his chest, paralyzed by the new feeling of his fingers curling inside you, pressing against the roof of your cunt.

“holy fuck, holy fuck,” you cursed, with steve starting to move his fingers faster inside of you.

the string of moans and profanities that came from your mouth could’ve made him cum right then and there.

“shit you’re so hot, keeping moaning like that and i’ll cum right in my jeans,” he said.

his words only pushed you farther and farther until finally you reached your orgasm. even after reaching it, steve did not stop moving his fingers inside you, riding you through your high. you gasped and it was like all the air had left your lungs, legs shaking, you clinging onto the sink for support, and cumming all over steve’s fingers. he groaned as he felt your walls clenching around his fingers through your high. as he saw your breathing start to slow he removed his fingers from your pussy, bringing to his lips as you watched in awe as he sucked your cum off his fingers. the sight of it was enough to trigger another orgasm for you.

he lifted you off the sink, placing you on the ground and grabbing your hand to walk out of the locker room

“but you didn’t get to-,” you stopped.

“hey,” steve interrupted, “don’t worry about me okay, you’re not taking advantage of me. but i mean if what just happened was you taking advantage of me you can do it anytime you want.”

“steveee,” you playfully whined.

“it’s okayyy,” he started, whispering the last part, “i’m satisfied enough with you cumming all over my fingers.”

he quickly kissed you on your left cheek, then right cheek, then forehead, and eventually everywhere on your face. you giggled at his playfulness after having you moaning his name no more than two minutes ago.

“alright let’s go then, to benny’s!” you exclaimed, grabbing his hand and leading the two of you out of the locker room.

[pogueszn]

a sprout master post

with the amount of asks i got and the things i’ve got going on in my personal life i don’t think i can answer them all before the season drops (which was i wanted to do) and these asks have been sitting in my inbox for too long already and i don’t just want to leave you all hanging so i thought i would compile a majority of the sprout asks here so you guys can read them, or add on to them or something! i’m gonna answer a few sprout asks and the random ones that are there later today some time, or tomorrow if i can’t find the time today! 

you guys going to a cameron party and there’s a photo booth and jj and teeny sprout are in line, and he’s like “okay when she says 3 you have to smile okay?” and sprout smiles so huge and it’s gummy to the point you see all of her dimples

going to a big city and your condo is has floor to ceiling windows and sprout crawls up to it and presses her slobbery face against it and jj is liek “enjoying the view princess?”

sprout bonding with nana heyward 🥺

baby sprouty sleeping in her bassinet and pope is over and she’s fussing and jj is like “see even your nerd talk bothers the baby”

Sprout laying on the ground and JJ is laying next to her and he’s like “I love youuuuu” and she does that cute newborn sleepy smile

going to the bookstore and everyone knows sprout and when you guys check out the cashiers like “your uncle popes phone number sprout?” and she’s like “yes peez”

ward holding sprouty while he’s talking business and she takes her binkie and shoves it in his mouth like “stop talking” and you and jj are like embarrassed

jj waking up to sprout poking him and he’s like “what baby?” and she whispers “i see my unca pope now” and jj looks at the time and it’s like 4 am

john b and sarah taking sprout and they pull her out of the car and she’s pissed at john b, and she had her binkie in her mouth and she bolts to see the heywards and john b is like “hey diaper butt watch the attitude”

jj telling the heywards about sprouts teething and he picks sprout up and is like “show them your teeth” and she’s like 😬 but with two teeth poking out and pink gums

baby sprouty in her sling on jj’s chest and she’s looking around and as soon as she spots pope she gummy grins so huge

baby brother and sprout laying in your room and you walk out to change snd find them passed out together

baby brother in his swing and sprouts looking at him, and jj is like “aw perfect instagram moment” and he’s taking a video of them and he’s like “sprout do you like your baby brother?” and she’s like “no coconut head cries too much”

Maybank Jr def sells edibles at school and he has to give Sprout first dibs or she’ll snitch him out

Baby Sprouty going out to The Wreck for the first time and Kies parents are like “Want a few minutes without the baby?” and they just want baby snuggles and she’s in her little car seat just sleeping

JJ having to take a plane for work conference and Sprout is shattered and she’s like “talk to dada peez” and you have to break her heart and say he can’t talk right now

sprout saying something like “gosh the kids on the cut have it easier” and it’s definitely easier if the times jj sits her down and has a starbucks talking to cause it definitely isn’t easy as it seems

jj is always kissing sproutys chubby cheeks from the moment she came out of the womb and was placed on your chest

the first morning with sprouty 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺☹️☹️☹️ 

HEARING SPROUTS HEARTBEAT FOR THE FIRST TIME. and the nurse is like “yup strong and healthy”

JJ holding sprout in his lap and she’s less than a month old, and he’s burping her while holding her cheeks and everyone’s in awe of her, Kie’s even videoing Sprout who’s milk drunk. And she spits up all over JJs leg

Sprouty having her little friend over and you can hear them whispering and you make out “hims cry all night. hims head big too” and her friends like “my sissy’s sleeps and can’t play wif her”

Mrs Heyward hogging up Sprout when she pops in the visit and Sprout is just vibing with her Nana while you and JJ are catching up on sleep

jj definitely mirrors the kids face when they’re crying and sprouts baby head thinks he’s actually crying so she fusses even more

baby sprout trying to crawl but she jusy looks like she’s wiggling in place and jj is like “aw my little worm”

Sprout and JJ having a boat day and Sprout climbs in JJs lap and she’s like “love yous more dan my fishies at papas” and JJs heart is a PUDDLE BECAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS SPROUTY LOVES HER FISHES AT PAPAS POND

JJ taking you out on one last vacation before your bubs born 🥺

when you’re pregnant and close to sproutys due date, you just clean from the time jj leaves for work to when he gets back and he’s like 🚨 no more cleaning ma’am you’ve reorganized my socks fives times already

Sprout and John B hanging out while Sarah’s out and he’s like “Want a cheeto?” and she stares at him and he’s like “Right sorry I forgot you don’t have teeth or how you only drink your moms boob milk”

When Sprout comes home from Urgent Care, you have her sleep in your bed because she still has a low fever and at first she’s clinging to you, and throughout the night she makes her way to JJ and they’re doing skin to skin cause she’s in her diaper and he’s shirtless

jj taking sprout to a daddy’s and i event at daycare and he noticed that a lot of the dads are like “sucks that my wife is having me babysit the kids on saturday so i’ll miss the game” and they’re more flabbergasted when they hear jj doesn’t use a 24/7 nanny like them

I feel like JJ already gives off intimidating and stern personality and when he has kids he feels like he has to lower it a few notches but sometimes he looses his patience and it definitely gets everyone’s attention

sprouty in her sling and you’re like “JJ can you take her? My boobs probably look weird with her pressed up against them” and he’s like “actually they look fantastic”

everyone coming to watch sprouty girls first swim lesson and she waddles out and she just started walking while holding someone’s hand and everyone’s like “oh such a big girl sprout.” and she’s like “fishie” and john b is like “no you’re the fish this time”

when ur telling the heywards that ur pregnant, heywards like “10 years together and it took you that long to knock her up?”

Sprout being a little over a year old and John B is waving a sparkler in front of her and she grabs at it, and everyone scolds John B

JJ DRESSING SPROUTY GIRL UP IN FOURTH OF JULY FITS THROUGHOUT THE DAY AND EVEN HER BINKIE MATCHES HER FITS

Waking JJ at ass crack of dawn and you’re like “Honey can you ask Heyward to make his french toast cause baby girls wanting them”

sprouty seeing jj on facetime and she’s like “oh hi dada” and he’s like “are you being good for your mom” and she’s like “no dada”

sprout going to heywards in a bad mood, and heyward is like “hugs for papa?” ans she’s like “no fank you papa. is in a bad mood right now”

Teen Sprout calling you guys at an ungodly hour and she’s like “I’m drunk and my ride ditched me. Please pick me up”

your baby shower for baby boy happening and sproutys like “awww for me???” and you’re like “no baby for your brother” and she’s so upset

Baby Boy and Sprout going to the Heywards for the night and JJ is like “Maybank #3?”

baby sprout sleeping in sarah’s arms and it’s after she’s first born and john b is like “nine months of growing a kid for her to sleep?” and he pokes her cheek “loser”

JJ getting giant headphones for Baby so she can watch the fireworks with you guys and he’s like “And look Dada even got Papa a pair cause we don’t his old man ears to get any worse”

:ooo did you ever hc how you tell jj you’re pregnant with sprout??

sprouty in the buggy and she’s babbling and jj is like “yeah baby?” and she does the babbling scream and he’s like “ma’am you’re in the store”

it being the first time you guys take sprout out, and you fed her and jjs burping her but she keeps dozing off cause it’s past her bedtime and he’s like “she’s definitely going to give us hell tonight for making her stay up”

baby sprouty looking at the fairy lights in the cameron backyard and john b is like “jesus j, she makes it seem like you never take her out of that castle she calls home” and sarah’s like “john b she’s three months old let the girl live”

jj buying little matching sunglasses for sprout and you look at the receipt and you’re like “$90 for glasses that she won’t even need?”

Sprout sitting up on your bed and JJ walks in and he’s like “Hi Mamas!” and she babbles back

Realizing the reason Sprouty sneezes on JJ or sometimes John B and Rafe is because their colognes are too strong for her baby nose

baby sprout in her bath tub in your bathroom and jj is like “how come babies get all the cool shit”

sprouts first fourth of july.

JJ getting fake chicken nuggets as his way of going vegan or something and he gives it to Sprout and she just devors them all.

baby sprouts first little stroller around the neighborhood 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Sprout mirroring everyone’s facial expressions

wait so i read concepts about how miss lana took jj in a lot, and how he’s so protective over her. and i was like him having miss lana watch sprouty as her babysitter cause he knows how motherly she’s is

JJ getting Sprout from the babysitter and she’s so tiny like one of the first times he picks her up, and he’s like “oh hi bubby did you have a nice time”

Sprout being into pictures for some reason, but it’s when she’s starting to recognize people. So every time she leaves her nursery you or jj stop by your wedding pictures in the hallway and ask “Where is…” for the next five minutes

Sprout waking up JJ like “My papas birfday dada?”

sprouts project in class is about love and you see her put “unca pope loves me the most” in her teachers writing cause they just wrote down what she says

Sarah and John B having a baby son and Sproutys meeting him, and she’s like “Awww hims wook wike my Unca Pope”

As soon as Baby Boy is out of your room and sleeping in his nursery, you can bet all your money sprout is back in between you and jj

sprout def snitches john b out when he gets on her nerves

sprout in her floaty and she’s having a blast and john b swims by her and she grips his hair and it’s the strong baby grip no one can seem to undo and she’s laughing at everyone telling her to stop

JJ making breakfast and he’s like “decaf for the mama, organic mango orange juice for the little mama, and boobs on the rocks for the little man in the sling”

maybank jr seeing you standing by the entry way of the house when jj picks him up from jail, and he’s so scared. and you’re like “had sprout stay with a friend tonight, you young man in your room until your father and i discuss what we’re gonna say to you”

Sprouts playroom is HUGE especially for a two foot baby. And somehow she manages to only play with the box her dad left while he spent all Saturday putting together her play kitchen

The one time JJ wakes up when Sprouts screaming she wants you

sprout potty training and she’s so excited to be a “big girl”

okay. i feel like jj would def have the first baby in the group or just never have kids

You guys taking a family trip to Nashville for the week and Sprout is THRIVING, baby is just vibing to the live music performances while y’all are eating at restaurants

heyward having sprout over and she facetimes you and you hear her grumble “pick me up unca b is here. eatin my mac in cheese”

JJ making barbecued ribs and Sprouts just devouring them and she’s just a mess and when JJ takes her out of her high chair he’s like “Aw my little piggy loved Dada’s cooking?” and Kie is like “You’re calling her a pig when you fed her pig?”

you guys leaving sprouty with john b and when you come to pick her up she’s strapped on his chest and he’s like “we’re bonding”

SPROUT MODELING WOULD BE AMAZINGGGG, like it’s sarah who talks you into it, and she’s only a few months old and it’s for a boutique in town and she’s so smiley and cooing the whole time

sprout not falling asleep when you guys are out of the house, and jj is like “you can sleep bubba” as he’s rubbing her back and she’s so drowsy she keeps dropping her pacifier

Picking Sprout up from daycare and you guys are like “How was your first day baby?” and she’s like “See my Unca Pope now?”

Baby Brother and you coming to Sprouts class for a class party and she’s like “Dis is my brudder hims kinda mean”

jj going the mainland for work and he comes back with hella shopping bags and it’s custom made designer for sprout because everything’s cuter in baby form

usually baby brother is the one who teases sprout and he’s in timeout but one time he does something and she smacks him back, and you have to separate them in timeout and as jj is talking to sprout you hear “i don’t like him right now dada. hims like unca jombee.”

John B seeing Sprout before his wedding, and he’s like “Listen stinky, today is about me and Aunt Sarah, so don’t do something that everyone awes over, got it?” and Sprout totally steals the show when she’s walking down the isle

jj getting him and sprout matching outfits and she’s running around the property in a hat that’s a little too big for her and she runs straight into ward

baby boy doing something that resulted in a timeout and he’s screeching so loud, and he’s calling for you to get him out and jj gets like a flashback of his childhood

sproutys first storm and she’s just looking out your bedroom window and jj sneezes or something and she jumps and he’s like “wtf”

Baby sleeping in the bassinet when she’s just born and JJ is like “She totally sleeps like me” and you’re like “You snore louder than the storm”

catching sprout crawling out of her crib and jjs like “what are you doing missy?” and she’s like “unca pope”

john b and jj going to sproutys field trip to the police station cause your morning sickness with baby boy is terrible and a mom walks up and is like “you guys make such a lovely couple!”

jj walking in on you talking to your bump, and you’re like “i enjoy cooking a lot, my mom taught me all of my best recipes” and he’s like 🥺

The daycare having an open house for Sprouts class, and you see one of her papers the question is “a few of my favorite things” and her answers are “uncle pope, nana and papa, my daddy and mommy, and strawberries. and seeing the fishies at my papas house”

you and jj doing something special for sprout before baby brothers born

jj looking after baby sprout and he needs to pee but everytime he puts her down she squawks and screams really loud so he’s just shuffling around the house holding her and rocking her hoping you’ll be home soon

Sprout definitely humbles the whole family, and keeps everyone in their place

[volexis]

⤷ december 12 ▸ i have fillings for you ft. sugawara

summary: in hindsight, staying up till 2 am might’ve not been one of your best ideas. that is, until you get a call from your very frantic boyfriend asking for your help in baking cookies. what could go wrong?

warnings: there’s like one quasi-suggestive sentence but other than that pure fluff (i hope)

wc: 1.5k

a/n: lowkey ngl i don’t really like how this turned out but she’s here! i was in a suga mood a couple of weeks ago and i wrote this and somehow it turned into me creating this event lmao

note: find the rest of the advent calendar here!

You all but sunk into the mattress as you let out a deep sigh. After an exhausting day, all you wanted was to let sleep overtake you as you bundled yourself in a slew of snug, cozy blankets. Your room was peaceful. The dark emptiness of the night filled you with balmy, heady delight as you shut your burning eyes for the first time in what seemed like days.

A dull buzz rang through the room, sharp enough to pull you out of your half-asleep state. You groaned and rolled over, praying whatever noise dared interrupt you would stop soon. It did, and you smiled in relief, snuggling back into your bed. The noise returned not a second later, this time, accompanied with a bright, blinding light. You reached over to your bedside table, staring at the culprit, your phone, through bleary eyes.

Twenty-four new messages alongside seven missed calls, all from the same person: your dear, loving boyfriend. You clenched your jaw after a glance at the clock, irritation clouding your mind. You answered the incoming call with a growl. “Suga, you better have a good reason for even thinking of calling me at—”

“(Y/N) thank goodness you’ve answered, I need your help!”

Any other day you would’ve hung up on him after thoroughly berating him for calling you at such an ungodly hour, but his words were saturated with desperation and something you hadn’t heard from him in a while: unmitigated panic. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

You could practically feel the warmth from his relieved smile through the phone, and you couldn’t help but glower. “Tell me what happened.”

“So, you remember I have a holiday party at work tomorrow, right?”

You confirmed, and he continued, practically tripping over his words as they sped to leave his mouth all at once. “Ikindasortaforgotthatineededtobakecookiesforthekidsand—”

“I’m stopping you right there. I did not understand a single thing you just said. It’s too early for this,” You felt bad, but you couldn’t help but laugh at your panic-stricken boyfriend. He resembled one of his students before giving a class presentation. “Please, can you slow down and repeat that?”

He took a shaky breath. His next words were slower, sounding them out in a bashful, apologetic tone. “I kind of, sort of, maybe, forgot that I promised the kids I’d bake cookies for their winter party... now all the stores closed and won’t open until after school starts…”

He tapered off as his voice softened into silence, words practically drenched in nervous anticipation. Your irritation bled into a temperate ire as you processed his words. “Let’s see if I understand this. What you called me for, at two in the morning, was to help you bake?”

His silence was answer enough. Your anger faded as his words sunk in, in its place a resigned smile. “You’re lucky you’re so cute. Anyways how’re we even going to get this done? Where are we even going to mee—”

“I’m already outside.” You swore you’d murder him one day.

You swung the door open unceremoniously, not at all surprised to see him towing bags of supplies with what could’ve passed as a sheepish smile if you didn’t know him well enough to see the gentle yet smug grin lying beneath it.

You followed him as he strode through your apartment, wincing as he upended the contents of his bags on your counter with a resounding crash. He dusted his hands and turned to you. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

You smiled, and he mirrored it with one of his own, quickly settling into a practiced rhythm beside you. He was in charge of shaping the cookies and monitoring the oven while you mixed the ingredients. The silence that soon enveloped your kitchen was nothing if not comfortable, a perfect backdrop to the soft clatter of your latest midnight endeavor.

“Babe, I’m almost out; can you pass me that flour over there?” Nothing.

“Babe? Suga? Kou?” You turned to face him and almost dropped your bowl. His hands were still; fingers wrapped tight around the scoop, dough dribbling off its edge while his eyes glued to your figure. He sported a smile sweet as sunshine, brimming with tender adoration.

“Kou?” Your breath caught in your throat, voice barely above a gentle whisper. It was enough to snap him out of whatever reverie absorbed him.

As if embarrassed to have been caught staring so unabashedly, he turned away quickly to face the bowl in front of him, pointedly avoiding your inquisitive glances. You wouldn’t have guessed Suga was feeling so flustered if it hadn’t been for the warm tint spreading over his cheeks and up to kiss the tips of his ears.

“What was that all about?” your tone dripped with the same teasing lilt he’d use to croon sweet nothings in your ear in your most intimate moments. It never failed to send electricity singing through your every nerve, and you hoped it would affect him the same way.

“Can’t I look at my beautiful partner?” His words were more brazen than you expected, having recovered from the ruffled state he was in just seconds before. You swiveled to gawk at him, scowling as he snickered at the mild disbelief in your eyes.

“I wouldn’t exactly call this,” you motioned to your attire: rumpled pajamas far too large for your frame paired with mismatched socks, and, to top it all off, a starchy lime green apron. “The epitome of beauty.”

Suga's smile melted into something tender and compassionate as he let go of his utensils; his lithe fingers reached to cup your cheeks and tilt your head to meet his gaze. You held your breath, incapable of tearing your eyes from his.

“I don’t care what you’re wearing, you could be wearing nothing at all, and it wouldn’t change the fact that you’re absolutely radiant.”

He firmly pressed his lips against yours, chuckling softly at your jolt of surprise. The two of you part, and he leans back to look at you, hands drifting to hold your waist and draw you closer. He kisses you again, and again, and again; fervently as your mind spins into delicious emptiness.

You’re both brought back to reality as a timer beeps obnoxiously loud beside you. Suga laughs against your skin and reaches over to check his phone, eyes widening in horror as realization crashes over him. He peels away from you and rushes to the oven, fretting over the condition of his treats.

You smile from your place on the counter, lowering yourself onto one of the nearby chairs to watch your boyfriend dart around the kitchen. You check your phone, and it dawns on you that you’ve been baking for the past four hours. Exhaustion envelops your every sense, and you yawn widely. Suga notices and looks down, smiling sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, love. We’re almost done, though. I think this is the last batch. After that, we can go to bed.”

You nod numbly and rest your chin on your palm, eyes slipping shut as you gently succumb to your long-awaited slumber.

You’re woken by soft, dim sunlight streaming through the cracks in your curtains. Almost out of habit, you reach over and search for your phone to turn off any alarms. Instead, you find a plate of cookies, delicately frosted. A small card rested by their side, the ink partially smeared in Suga’s hurry. You laughed quietly. He must’ve woken up late.

Dearest (Y/N),

You don’t know how much I appreciate your help last night. It was extremely unfair of me to call you so late, but you responded regardless. You turned what could have been an evening of inevitable disaster into a memory I’ll treasure forever. You fell asleep after we put the last batch in so don’t worry, I cleaned everything before heading out! Thank you again, really. I can’t wait to see you when I come home; love.

Yours always,

Kou

A fond smile makes its way across your lips as you scan his neat yet rushed handwriting. You dropped the card on the table with a sigh, almost missing a small post-it note attached to the back. Eyebrows furrowing, you flip the paper over to read the words, gentle and deliberate in its delicate script.

P.S. Ironically, I wrote this before I wrote what’s on the card, which makes this more of a pre-script rather than a postscript? Anyways, I’m rambling, on to the actual message.

I got to thinking after you fell asleep last night. Your words stuck to me. I never once stopped to consider you might not believe me when I remind you of how gorgeous you are. You’re my everything; my heart is full of you, so full my words fail me even now as I write this.

I said it once, and I’ll say it eternally. You are beautiful. Though you may not see it, I’ll make sure to repeat it every day until you learn how beautiful you are.

taglist: @tsumuseum @amoroushero​ @mrslordexplosionmurder​ @ssat0ris​ @osamusriceballs​ @seraphgabrielle​ @1642lux

additional note: event taglist is open! Send an ask if you’d like to be added <3

[haiykuties-imagines-blog]

Hello! I'm so excited to see a new blog!! Anyway, I really loved the head cannons you wrote about big brother Suga, and I was wondering if you could write something similar about either Asahi or Daichi (I big love my 3rd years I'm so sorry). Anyway! Thank you very much! Have an amazing day

Hi! I decided to put all the big bros together in one as it just made sense for me to write them all together! Thank you so much so much for the support and I hope you guys have a great day 💖

Bokuto Kōtarō Headcanons | Word Count: 404

-Bokuto is the most enthusiastic brother anyone could ever have, within seconds of them setting foot on campus he’s practically picked them up, flinging them around and telling everyone this is his little sister and that she is amazing! (It took bribing from Akaashi to put her down)

-He’s gonna beg them to join the girls volleyball team or even be a manager for the boys, he wants them to be as good as he is or at least show off to them constantly, if they already had a different club in mind he wouldn’t care, he would just brag more and more about them being the best in that club

-This boy can barley even remember his tie in the morning, so if his sister is to forget anything there’s no way he would even notice it to take it too her. If anything, he probably forgot his lunch or homework as well, there’s no helping either of them.

-In regards to them getting into trouble, Bokuto is 100% going to scold her even if he has done the same thing before, he wants his little sister to have a good reputation and be her best. He’s so proud of her either way and just wants her to enjoy school but also appreciate the education side.

-Definitely watches her like a hawk, nothing she does gets past him! Whether it be at lunch, in class or even in the halls he’s got a question for them;

“Who’s that boy?!”

“What did they say?”

“Are they making fun of you?”

Someone could literally bump into her and he’s already fired up to protect.

-He wants his little sister to remain pure amd innocent, he made that very obvious when he saw a boy talking to them and he literally ran across the field screaming his signature “Hey hey heyyyy” but more aggressive, before questioning him relentlessly. Now no boys dare to talk to her, which definitely had caused a sibling squabble!

-On the other hand though, his protectiveness can be really useful if anyone was to try pick on his sister, they’d definitely need to think twice after catching a glimpse of Bokutos over powering glare.

-In the end, Bokutos a very overwhelming type sibling to have in the school, being loud and flashy but he really just wants them to feel safe and secure in their first year and not worry at all

Akaashi Keiji Headcanons | Word Count: 379

-Literally the complete opposite to Bokuto, couldn’t really care that they’re in the school or what they did and why. As long as it wasn’t anything extreme and that there was no trouble caused he would want to leave her be and have her find her own path in school. He believes by giving them the independence if they do ever really ask for help they really do need it.

-Takes his study seriously to some extent but also wants to relax and knows his limit, he tries his hardest to teach his little sister this in their first year, he’s willing to help them out but only they can tell if they’ve reached their limit- which is why he wants them to be independent

-Will definitely bring in anything she forgets, he always leaves slightly later and will check for anything they couldn’ve forgotten, he knows that in the first year it’s easy to get confused and forget certain things.

-Because of his statue like facade a lot of first years tend to be a little sketchy and worried to talk or be around Akaashi, like did he have no emotion?! If it wasn’t for his sister frequently going up to him to collect forgotten food and/or just have a normal chat, the first years aren’t as freaked out by his demeanour now

-If she was ever bed ridden due to illness he would try his best to collect up all homework from their teachers and even ask some of their friends to copy down notes for them. He would hate for her to go back into school after being sick to then feel even worse about catching up on a few days of work

-He’s also the most chill about his sister talking to boys, he wants her to enjoy life and quite frankly cannot be bothered at all for the whole protective chat stuff, like said before he wants her to learn from mistakes and grow through it

-Overall Akaashi just as calm as ever, it’s as if he doesn’t even have a sister sometimes, he wants them to both live their lives but be able to help eachother when needed. It’s not like he doesn’t care, though, he just doesn’t want to hound them constantly.

Asahi Azumane Headcanons | Word Count: 424

-Asahi is more scared of the first years then they are of him, with his ‘scary’ demeanour and adultish looks none of them really try to talk to him and ask for help around school, they’d rather be lost. This makes him feel quite disheartened actually, so when his little sister finds out about it she tries her hardest tk promote Asahi and the teddy bear he really is!

-With that, Asahi really enjoys having his little sister in the school, less people are scared of him meaning he is more comfortable with just walking around and not worrying about being screamed at. She’s like his little moral support, keeping him calm, despite the fact it really should be the other way around

-Sometimes the promotions of her brother are futile though, which is never an issue really, everyone knows that she is Asahis little sister so no one ever tries to mess wih her, it’s to much of a risk!

-He often invites his sister to watch practice, due to Asahis and Noyas friendship she wasn’t at all phased by the initial squealing of a new cute girl in the gym, it was practically mandatory for her to deal with. She was also a big part in bribing Asahi to get back into volleyball and often cheers him on at matches and even just for practice because she knows that even if she is the ‘little’ sister, she still has to act older for his babyish acts occasionally

-Asahis really good at collecting up any homework she may need in her absences, the first time he did it though he get stumbling on his words to their teacher and accidentally brought home the complete wrong homework to them because the teacher has 0 idea on what he really wanted

-He will also try his best to help her with any homework, he’s not the smartest kf the smart but wants to feel like he is able to help her like she helps him, he would like her to take education somewhat seriously even if it isn’t her forte and she wants to do somthing more out going- it’s still important to have a small back up!

-After all, Asahi in reality is more of the little brother sometimes but he still wants his little sister to look up to him because he is proud of her and knows she’ll do amazing in school. He does really appreciate the softer reputation she gave him for his last year as well, it’s a huge bonus

Daichi Sawamura Headcanons | Word Count: 340

-Much like Suga from my previous post, Daichis dad mode comes into action while his sisters in school. He’s all about having fun and enjoying life but he also believes education is important and wants his sister to feel the same.

-On the first day he toured her around, showing her every inch of the school and letting her knkw about the ‘bad people’ places he didn’t want to find her.

-After all the dad chat, he goes more fun and friendly, he would hate for her to dislike him based on how firm he can be and that’s not the way he wants her to see him, he is still just her brother and they’re both still kids after all.

-Unfortunately if she is to be forgetful Daichi is not going to be able to help, he’s up and gone at the crack of dawn due to his captains duties meanjng he won’t even see her in the morning, let alone take her lunch! If she did forget something like lunch or water he would make sure to buy her some food though, along with a little scold, but he isn’t evil

-Will 100% introduce her to the team but will set ground rules with them before they meet her, this consist of:

No dating or flirting

No harassment

No embarrassing

These are also all directed towards Noya and Tanaka

-Everyone knows Daichi, even the first years, this means they know not to cross the line with his little sister because boy can he be scary sometimes! If anyone was to say anything at all about her they’ll definitely know about it, Daichi will ensure to have a little chat with the person who said anything; nothing was ever mentioned about it again

-Overall Daichi wants his sister to be a strong independent person just like himself and hopes he sets a good example for her. He wants her to have a good enjoyable time at Karasuno just like himself, just not too much fun, as education is important!

[twdmusicboxmystery]

TWD 10x06: Bonds - Details

Okay, let's talk details.

 ***As always, spoilers abound below for 10x06. Don’t read until you’ve watched!!!***

Carol and Daryl:

We see Carol get up and get ready in the morning. I thought it was interesting that we saw her make coffee. We actually saw them making coffee in 10x03, right after meeting Alpha at the border, too. 

Remember in 6×13, Paula gave the analogy of the three things that went into the water: the egg, the carrot, and the coffee beans. The coffee beans change the letter itself. Now we’re seeing coffee around Carol. 

I'm not sure exactly what it means, but the very least, I think you could argue that her actions are changing things. Maybe the coffee shows that it won't necessarily be a bad thing for her to start the war. I'm sure people die, but maybe what she's doing will end up changing the world somehow. Just some random thoughts.

She leaves the community, presumably to look for Negan. When they sit down to watch, we do see binoculars.

Carol shows Daryl her Map, and he asks why she wasn't straight with him. After she explains, he says, "I get it." The first thing I would always say is that this is a bEth thing. But I thought about it a little deeper than that. He said the exact same thing to Connie when Connie said she was sorry she asked him to lie for Magna. So, both times, he said this when he understood why they did something, even if he didn't agree with it. And that was actually true of Beth saying it to Dawn as well.

Then Daryl says that if she finds anything, he can track it for her. Carol implies that she can track things herself. I'm not entirely sure what to make of that. Is she just being flippant? Is this suppose to be some sort of parallel to Beth because Daryl taught her to track? I'm not sure, but I thought it was kind of weird.

I think I covered the acorn scene pretty well yesterday. Again, I'll do a post about acorns and oaks later in the week. Stay tuned for that.

As the horde gets bigger, Carol admits she wants to cross the border. Daryl says that if they're going to do it, they have to be smart. None of this running off the night. Does he know her well, or what? He agrees to cross the border with her, but lays out some rules. They can't be seen, they can't make tracks, they can’t kill walkers conventionally, because Alpha will know they’ve been there. They also agree to meet back at the border if they get separated.

Daryl said if they left a bunch of walkers in their wake with holes in their heads, they might as well “leave a note saying we were here." It just reminded me of Beth’s thank you note in Alone.

I do think Carol was being pretty reckless here. I'm not someone who usually bashes on Carol. I actually like her character and think she's interesting. That doesn't mean that I condone everything she does. Our biggest problem with her fan base is that she's doing things that are super toxic, and they seem to think these things are okay to do. They not only condone but even glorify some of the really despicable things she's done. Obviously, I don't that way. I think her character is interesting specifically because she's so flawed. But that doesn't mean I agree with all her actions. But I generally don't go around bashing her either.

In this case, I do think her actions were pretty reckless. She's kind of got a one track mind to get her own agenda accomplished, and doesn't seem to care that she could get other people killed.

I said yesterday that if it turns out she really is telling the truth about everything, then maybe that doesn't hold up. Maybe the Whisperer really did see her, through no fault of her own. But then Gimple did kind of confirm on TTD that she’d done it on purpose and had a different plan all along.

Another parallel I noticed was Daryl coming out of the brush. It reminded me of when he did the same thing at Father Gabriel's church and 5x03. Michonne went to see who was in the bushes and it was Daryl returning with Noah. But the way he came up, and Carol wondered if he was a walker or an enemy at first, and you see the brush wiggling, and then he sort of stumbles out of it. That reminded me of 5x03. And that had to do with Beth. Daryl had come back from finding her.

When I told @wdway​ about this, she pointed something else out. She said just reading about my description reminded her of the beginning of Still, where Beth and Daryl do the same thing. They come stumbling out of the brush. And obviously that had to do with Beth. So I really like this visual parallel.

That was a bit about it for Daryl and Carol. You can definitely tell Daryl thinks she’s lying. We’re developing a bit of a pattern here of people either lying to Daryl or asking him to lie for them, and he really doesn't like it. We’re seeing a bit of a rift here between Daryl and Carol. And that hasn't really happened before.

Siddiq and the Sickness:

It's been said that maybe the people are getting sick because Gamma poisoned the water. Here, we specifically hear Dante and Siddiq talk about how all they can really do is keep the sick hydrated and wait for it to pass. If the water is what's making them sick, that's why the virus is spreading so quickly. Again, there are lots of parallels to the virus at the prison. There, they also brought water to the sick because they kept getting dehydrated due to the fever.

I noticed that at the beginning, Siddiq said seven people had it now. By the end of the episode, it was much more than that, but they specifically emphasized the number seven. It’s something I’m keeping an eye on recently, since Emily posted that tarot card with the seven stars.

We also found out where Father Gabriel is. We wondered where he went last episode. Rosita says he's out on an overnight patrol. I also noticed that she called him The Good Shepherd at one point. Kind of interesting.  

When Siddiq takes her hopes are to the infirmary, he helps her in a similar way to how Daryl helped Beth after she heard her ankle. 

We also heard talk of luck and an “I get it” from Dante, which I think is interesting. Not sure what role Dante will play going forward. Since he and Siddiq shared moonshine last episode, that did sort of make them Bethyl proxies.

The old woman, Cheryl, said something to Siddiq about him looking like the grim reaper. “It’s like I’m napping next to the Grim Reaper.” My first response to that is that she's probably going to die, which isn’t a stretch, given her age and the severity of the illness.

On the other hand, she was referring to Siddiq as the Grim Reaper so maybe it’s a death omen for him. I don't know.

**Uh, yeah. I wrote this when I watched the episode over the weekend. Just last night, new spoilers came out that answer who the reference is about. I won’t post them here, but if you’ve read them, you know what i mean. ☹**

Lastly, during Siddiq’s PTSD episode, he hears Alpha say over and over again, "Open your eyes, open your eyes." And we hear a clock ticking very loudly, which is probably significant.

It zoomed in on his eyes in a similar way they did with Beth at Grady. Then, of course, we see his eyes open. So, the theme is there. I mean, we’re talking watching someone’s eyes open with a clock ticking in the background. Grady anyone?

It’s also a lot like the walker we saw outside the school at the end of 10x03. Again, not sure exactly where it’s going yet, but it’s interesting.

Oh, one other detail I forgot: Rosita has a fever of 102 degrees. Remember the 102 near the firetruck in 5x05? Just saying.

Negan:

As I’m sure we all kind of figured, there was some mild hilarity between Negan and Beta. To say they don't like each other is an understatement. When they first walk through the woods, Negan tells Beta he will spill all of his secrets. He also says he's been in prison for eight years. 

Now, of course, we already knew that, but I think it's interesting that they emphasize the number years. Remember, there was an 8 beside Beth in 5x09. But they’ve always been really vague about time passing before. Now, we’re being told very specifically it's been exactly 8 years since the end of AOW (when Negan began a prisoner). And around the end of AOW, they confirmed on TTD that it had been between four and six months since Coda. So, it's really only been a little over 8 years since Beth was shot.

Beta says Negan can't be trusted but Alpha wants him to be tested. She says, if he’s worthy, she’ll “hear” him. So another ear reference.

She also gets angry at Beta for questioning her judgment and he kneels to her. I thought it was hilarious that Negan thought him kneeling was funny. If anyone understands making people kneel, it's him.

So, this kind of opens up an interesting dynamic. Even though he was a different kind of “bad guy” than Alpha is, he does understand her in a way that most people wouldn't. Even Rick and Michonne wouldn't understand her in the same way Negan does because they've never been dictators who’ve forced others to kneel to them. Negan will be able to anticipate her moods and actions better than others can. He may be able to get inside her head and be the only one who can truly defeat her. I think this is really interesting.

Negan did make an Omega reference while goading Beta. Basically, Negan asked in his always-classy way if Alpha and Beta even are together. He asked Beta if he gave her a little “omega” on the side, which is obviously a sex reference. I think Negan is purposely making play on words because Alpha’s name is, well, Alpha. So it’s like, are you the “omega” to her “Alpha.”

On the other hand, you could argue that the alpha/omega reference just became romantic. Even sexual. And we’ve heard that reference tangled up with Beth symbolism a lot.  

Then we have the part where Negan digs holes. Actually, that was part really interesting. I don’t think what Negan was doing specifically was the test. They were more testing his obedience and trying to push him to a place of exhaustion and anger to see if he would crack. He nearly did a few times, but overall, didn’t.

Meanwhile, they were burying walkers. They would dig a hole, line it with rocks, and then bury walkers in it. I don't know why they were doing that, but it probably has something to do with their belief about walkers as guardians.

More to the point, the up-tempo song that played during this part was about a yo-yo. Perhaps another sign Beth will be here soon?

They also had Negan kill a pig they hunted. Recently, I said I think pigs always represent a sacrifice in order to keep others alive. So, it's interesting that they had Negan kill the pig. In the comic books, Negan kills Alpha. I don't know if this points to that, but honestly, I don't think Alpha qualifies as a sacrifice. She’s not exactly innocent. Besides, I tend to think Carol will kill her in the show rather than Negan. But I think this foreshadows Negan sacrificing someone else for the greater good. Those are just rambling thoughts for now.

In terms of the psychology, it's also very telling what Negan was about to put up a fight with Beta. When he saw Alpha, that's when he backed down. He knows very well who’s in charge and who he needs to impress.

Later on, Beta got angry and said Negan will never be one of them. Negan says, "Cards on the table, I'm not here for you.” Interesting poker card reference there. He also uses the phrase, "five and dime Frankenstein." Actually, several interesting references there. Five and dime is the same as 5 and 10. Kind of connecting S5 and S10, perhaps? (I mean, what could that connection possibly be? 😉) And of course, Frankenstein is a creature that was brought back from the dead.

Beta kills a walker and basically sicks the horde on Negan. Interestingly, Negan actually had tiny death fake out sequence.

Granted, I doubt anyone actually thought Negan was dead, even for a couple of minutes, but the events were similar. He was surrounded by walkers and presumed dead by Beth. He went and told Alpha that Negan was weak and had died. But then Negan showed up alive and well.

Notice how they never do death fake outs, even small ones, by pushing people off cliffs or anything. Think about the others we've seen. Glenn, Rick, what we think happened with Beth. Every time it's them being surrounded by walkers with no obvious way out, but somehow, they make it and turn up alive. Just thought that was interesting.

At the end, Negan kneels to Alpha. It's an interesting way to bring his character full circle. He used to make everyone kneel before him before and was the evil dictator. Now, he's kneeling to someone else.

More than that, he's basically giving everything to help overthrow Alpha, which makes it a very unselfish act. So in that way, he's become a completely different character. I thought the end where she said, “Shh,” and he smiled was a pretty ingenious way to end the episode. Definitely makes me look forward to the next one.

Eugene and Radio Voice:

As I said yesterday, I won't say much about his overall art. We don't know where this is going with this woman, and it's very intriguing. But we just don't know enough about it to really draw any conclusions yet. However, some of the dialogue he has while talking with her is very interesting.

First, at Hilltop, we learn that he souped up the transmitter with stuff from satellite. Some of the technology took from satellite will actually help improve the reach of the transmitter. I'm sure that's important.

Eugene tries to call Rosita back after the transmitter malfunctions, but at that point, she's already gone to the infirmary. This just leads to him calling out across all channels, trying to reach anybody who might hear him.

His call sign is “tater bug.” Don’t know if we should be reading into that, but but/insect references always catch my attention, now. He also had an ear reference. Just before the woman first answered him, he says something about “ear holes.” So maybe part of the hear no evil theme?

They talk about him being from Texas. The reason that’s important is because FTWD is currently set in Texas. Also, Carol and Daryl keep making New Mexico references. New Mexico is right next to Texas. They also talk about where she's from, Strausburg, Pennsylvania.

They talk about Coventry blue, the foamer phase, and an ice cream shop. I don’t want to go into what these mean in great detail, but I think they’re significant. Coventry blue comes from a certain way to dye fabric and then weave it that dates back to the middle ages. I know there was a basket weaving reference last episode, and we think these may be cloaked New Mexico references. Like making this kind of dye and basket weaving was practiced by Native Americans in New Mexico or something. We’re really not entirely sure yet.

The foamer thing is slang for “an obsessive railfan.” This is when Eugene is talking about how he loved trains and visited a train museum. So more of the train theme. They’ve been major symbols throughout the series. The train tracks a terminus, at the train. Symbolism 5×9 during Tyra's recent death, hallucination, and a few others.

Two reasons the ice cream reference is important. It reminds me of Daryl’s “I never” about frozen yogurt from Still. Anyone who reads @frangipanilove​’s theories knows that Frosty Cola and ice cream are also part of the Sirius/return symbolism, which might be why had Daryl reference frozen yogurt in Still to begin with.

Eugene also makes a roller skate reference. That’s not specifically a Bethyl thing, but it reminded me of Enid and Carl rollerblading together. They were not only a soulmate couple, intertwining their fingers, but there were a lot of Bethyl symbols around them.

At one point, Eugene says he's a good judge of character and believes she's in the "good" column. So, more of the “good people” theme. They agree to keep talking, but she wants to keep it between them. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or bad thing. Like I said, just kind of waiting to see how this unfolds.

Okay, that’s it for today. Thoughts? 

[artificialqueens]

cirque d'amour - chapter eleven (trixya) - cal

i’m sorry, i posted this to ao3 ages ago and again, forgot to submit here…I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY, if you haven’t already read it! the next chapter is coming very soon…

HUGE HUGE HUGE TRIGGER WARNING: abuse, mental illness, mentions of attempting suicide *IF YOU WANT TO SKIP OUT TRIXIE’S FLASHBACK FROM HER PAST, IT IS ALL IN ITALICS* okay, whooOoO. this one’s a journey, you guys. starts out adorable & ends up pretty heavy.

part one of trixie being the ross we deserved back in the last season of friends.

sorry it took a while ~ i hope you enjoy, i know this one’s a wild ride <3

Trixie leaned to whisper delicately into Katya’s ear beside her. “Did she really win drag race?”

Katya’s perfect mouth formed an ‘o’ of surprise, and she clasped a hand over her lips to conceal it. “Trixie!”

Trixie grinned sheepishly, her eyes trained on Alaska as she performed a questionable rendition of Oasis’ “Wonderwall”. The party were collected by the stage in a cluster of excitement, encouraging the strange Alaska with intoxicated wails of approval. Trixie and Katya, the only two of the group who were stone-cold sober, were wincing every time the incredibly drunken Alaksa attempted to hit a high note.

Trixie, despite her recent plight, felt lighter than she had in the longest time. Her admission to Katya took huge courage and she could still feel the shivers across her spine she had felt when she had finally said it. Their relationship may well be impossible to pursue, Trixie knew, but she was enjoying being with Katya this night all the same; with no secrets and no tension between them, just pure, true feeling.

Latrice, his bar-tending abandoned after he had consumed one too many mojitos, clocked Trixie’s presence in the little crowd. “Tracyyy! Go and help 'Lasky, we have a - hic - guitar backstage!”

Trixie grimaced - her guitar playing could improve the situation, seeing as Alaksa was wailing with no backing track - but she was still fearful of playing in front of a crowd, even one as small as this.

“Go on, Trix,” Katya hissed through clenched teeth. “You can only make this better. Besides, everyone’s a mess.”

“You’re not.”

Katya grinned knowingly, and Trixie felt her stomach somersault. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Trix—eee,” Latrice slurred, approaching her with a huge pout. “Pleaseeee.”

Trixie huffed a tiny breath of fear, her eyes training on the spotlights that flooded the stage. You can do this, bitch. It’s nothing. It’s only for fun.

She gave Latrice a wobbly smile. “Okay, okay. Where is this guitar?”

Trixie was stood side-stage a moment later, an ageing Fender gripped in her clammy hands. She watched as Alaska garbled over the words of the ageless song, and she winced with the blatant massacre of it.

Trixie inhaled sharply and held the breath in her chest for a moment, before stepping onto the glaring light of the stage.

The gabble of drunken people screamed, but Trixie could hear only Katya among them; the loudest, the most feeling. Trixie felt warmth flood her body at the sound.

Trixie smiled awkwardly, feeling eternally grateful for the glare of the lights that mostly distorted every face that was now watching her. She fiddled with the microphone stand that Alaksa had abandoned, cradling her own mic into the top of it.

Alaska had paused in her din, grinning broadly at Trixie as she joined her on stage.

“So, anyway,” Trixie muttered into the mic, startling herself with the sound of her amplified voice. “Here’s Wonderwall.”

Trixie couldn’t help but cast a glance at Katya then; Katya, who was doubled over and wheezing with laughter. Trixie felt braver every time she looked at her.

Trixie began strumming the simple chords, her confidence rising with every strum of her fingers and every slide of the fret. She felt the familiar joy she had felt back in Chicago, when she had played for the Cirque in their tiny apartment. The little crowd had silenced themselves when she had started to play and, much to Trixie’s surprise, so had Alaska.

Every pair of eyes were trained on her, but the only eyes Trixie truly cared about were Katya’s – and she could see them now, through the glare of the lights, staring up at her with unmistakable admiration. Trixie felt her heart soar, and her confidence bloom; the song was overplayed and cliche, she knew, but she poured her soul into the words and the chords regardless of that fact.

“Maybe,” she sang, her eyes closing for a moment as she let the atmosphere of the club wash over her. “You’re gonna be the one that saves me.”

When her hazy eyes opened a crack, she saw that the room was dimly lit now with various lighters and torches from phones – a tiny sea of lights at her feet. Trixie smiled; she felt delighted, in awe. She felt at home.

After what simultaneously felt like forever and a heartbeat all at once, Trixie ended the song to tremendous applause from the little crowd below her. She took a bow, the redness in her cheeks growing as the reality of what she had just done dawned upon her.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed, blushing furiously as everyone continued to cheer for her.

She stole a glance towards Katya; Katya, who was jumping up and down like a crazed wild woman, clapping and wailing louder than anyone else.

Trixie jogged down the steps by the stage, exhilaration stealing her breath as she grasped Katya’s arm.

“Hey, Katya?”

“You were so good, mama, like wow, I’m—“

“Katya!”

“Oh…sorry…yes?”

“I’ll do it,” Trixie’s eyes were sparkling.

Katya tilted her head, confusion pinching her face. “Do what?”

“Perform,” Trixie gasped, excitement gushing through her veins. “At your closing show.”

Katya’s eyes widened. “Oh, bitch!”

*

The next day Trixie spent hauled up in her room.

It was how she had spent the majority of the week, but today, it wasn’t because she was riddled with guilt and haunted by the demon of depression; it was because she needed to focus.

She had decided to write her own song for the finale of the Cirque – a risky choice, she knew, but somehow it felt right.

She was nestled in a bright pink bathrobe, a handful of moleskin notebooks piled messily in front of her. She had always wrote music- it had gotten her through the darkest times of her life – but she felt she needed to write something new for such a special occasion.

She chewed the end of her pen thoughtfully as she gazed down at the chaotic scribbles on various open pages, trying desperately to make them all fit.

The door of her bedroom opened without a knock, as it so often did – and Trixie instinctively rolled her eyes.

“Hey, it’s a good job I’m celibate,” she huffed, not looking up. “Or you’d be catching me in the nude with all this blatant invading of my privacy.”

Courtney, forever looking insufferably perfect, glided across the room towards Trixie.

“From the sounds of things,” she scoffed, seating herself on the edge of Trixie’s bed with no invitation to do so. “Your celibacy won’t be for long.”

Trixie’s glare was instant – her song-writing forgotten for the moment.

“What’re you talking about, sis?”

Courtney raised her sculpted brow, a no-nonsense look on her face. “Bitch, anyone within a 20 mile radius can see you and Katya fucking each other with your eyes.”

“Ex-cuse me?” Trixie gasped, a laugh escaping her with a strange mixture of embarrassment and surprise.

“We been done knew,” Courtney wiggled her shoulders, smiling triumphantly at Trixie’s blatant embarrassment.

Trixie heaved a sigh; clearly lying to Courtney was a pointless fete. “Okay, okay, yes. I like her. I like her a lot. Can you drop it now?”

“Nope.”

“Courtney!”

“Listen,” Courtney said, and something about the sudden hint of seriousness in her tone took Trixie aback. She gazed at Courtney, noting the drop of her lips and the furrowing of her brow.

“Listening,” Trixie whispered.

“Katya is my friend,” Courtney said simply, crossing her arms over her breasts. “Please, please don’t hurt her. She’s very…delicate.”

“I have no intention of hurting her,” Trixie mumbled, feeling a spark of irritation. “I’m not even trying to get anything from her. We agreed - we’re friends.”

Courtney’s face betrayed her disbelief, which only irritated Trixie further. “No offence, but since when did it become your business?”

Courtney’s eyes widened with surprise, and Trixie regretted her heated words in an instant as she rose from the bed. “Court, I -”

“Forget it,” Courtney said bluntly, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re right, it’s nothing to do with me.”

Courtney exited the room without a glance in Trixie’s direction and not for the first time this chaotic week, Trixie felt like a garbage human person.

*

Katya I can’t believe the final show is tomorrow, tracy! are you excited for your debut?!

Trixie was in line at Starbucks, trying desperately to juggle her heavy laptop, her phone, and a handful of change all at once.

“Um -” she muttered the moment the server asked what she would like; her turbulent brain forgetting the order she made every single time she visited the place.

“Ah - oh!” Trixie had a eureka moment as the disorganised cogs in the mind begin to turn once more. “A hazelnut soy latte, please. Sorry.”

Trixie collected her coffee at the end of the line, trying desperately to hide her burning cheeks from the prying eyes of the other people there. She slid into an empty seat in the corner of the room, opening her laptop with a grunt of dissatisfaction as she realised that the name on her cup spelt 'Trinksy’.

“Trinksy?” Trixie muttered, her eyebrows raised. “Really?”

Trixie no

Trixie flipped through her moleskin notebook, trying to locate her messy scribbles and idle-minded doodles. She decided, after days of chewing anxious dints into multitudes of pens, that she would leave the prison of her bedroom and combine her notes into some form of chord progression and lyrics that made sense - the day before she needed them. Trixie Mattel was organised.

Katya oh mama, you’ll be fine. you’ll be amazing!! i’m so excited, jsefjsfklkajbs

Trixie wasn’t hugely satisfied with her song-writing - she oftentimes was critical of her own work, that much was true, but she didn’t feel safe enough mentally to allow her emotions to write her songs. With everything that had happened recently, she’d had to place her feelings in an iron vice and keep them clamped there safely before they spilled out into everything she did.

Trixie typed away, her nails clicking against the keyboard, as she sipped absentmindedly at her lukewarm coffee.

In the midst of her vain attempts to focus, a single thought kept pronouncing itself at the forefront of Trixie’s mind; her exchange with Courtney a few days ago. They had seen each other a few times, usually crossing paths in the mornings where Trixie glared at her laptop in desperate search for a job, and Courtney silently pouring herself a coffee into her giant flask. She missed their silly banter; Courtney had become a very valuable friend to Trixie, and she decided that she had to overcome her fear of confrontation and address the problem that they had.

Trixie huffed a breath, pulling out her phone and typing a rapid text to her.

Trixie Hey…I’m at starbucks. Do you wanna come drink overpriced coffee and shamelessly people-watch with me?

She then, after giving herself a mental pat on the back for doing something so grown-up and so not Trixie, typed an orderly sequence for her Cirque song whilst humming it against the rim of her cup.

Once Trixie had finished, she skimmed the song with a critical eye. The end result she found she was pleased with, and she smacked her lips with satisfaction as the closed her laptop down.

She glanced at her phone – no response from Courtney.

Trixie sighed. She hated that Courtney was upset with her and she was irritated with herself for allowing her tone to turn the way it had done when they had last spoke; though Trixie was certain that was more to it than that.

She was about to pack up and vacate her table when the front door of the cafe opened to reveal the unmistakable silhouette of Miss Courtney Act.

She glanced about herself, clearly trying to locate Trixie. Trixie raised her hand and wiggled her fingers to get her attention, and smiled when Courtney noticed.

She flounced over to Trixie’s table, her work bag slung over her shoulder. She dropped herself into the vacant seat opposite Trixie with a dramatic sigh.

“God, what a fucking day,” she grumbled, gracefully running a manicured hand through her curls. Trixie stifled a chuckle; she had missed her.

“Bad day at the office?”

“The worst,” Courtney rolled her eyes. “So I was down for this.”

“You didn’t reply to my text, bitch.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Courtney tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave Trixie a glare.

“You’re here,” Trixie agreed with the beginnings of a smile. She hesitated for a moment, before steeling herself to speak again. “I’m sorry, you know…about the other day.”

Courtney’s eyebrow was raised in mock-surprise. “Is Trixie Mattel apologising?”

“You’re a dick,” Trixie mumbled, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Did she really come across as someone who isn’t sorry when she’d done wrong?

Courtney chuckled. “I’m kidding. And hey, it’s cool. I guess I overstepped the line. I just really love Katya. You know?”

Trixie’s phone lit up at that moment from where it lay on the table – a string of new notifications were rapidly multiplying at Katya texted her chaotic thought stream. Trixie couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah. I know.”

*

Trixie and Courtney parted ways after their coffees – Courtney was spending the night at Milk’s little flat, which she often did, painfully aware that soon she would not be seeing him for a number of weeks. Trixie was afraid to think about the impending tour, so she refused to allow herself to. She knew with a frightening certainty that she would miss Katya with an ache that ran deep.

Trixie decided to wander the streets of L.A to clear her mind after the exhausting task of song writing. It was fast approaching dusk, and the sky was bleeding brilliant orange against the pastel blue. She was paying little attention to the treads of her feet, staring instead at the beauty of the sunset against the skyline, her mind pleasantly blank and her mood high.

She stumbled quite suddenly into a small girl who was waiting at a crossing, her fingers interlaced with someone who Trixie assumed was her father. “Oh, I’m s—“

Trixie was cut off by the gruffness of the man’s voice. “Izzy!”

Trixie’s heart began to hammer in an instant. The voice was eerily familiar. Her wide, fearful eyes darted to the man’s face – no, it’s not him. It’s not him.

“I’m sorry about that,” the man mumbled with a kindly gaze.

“Oh, uh, it’s —“ Trixie stammered, her hands visibly shaking by her sides. No, it’s not him. Stop it. Calm down. Everything’s fine.

“Are you okay?” the man seemed concerned.

“Kiss his cheek, Beatrice.”

Trixie’s tiny eyes were suddenly huge; she giggled nervously, fiddling with the trim of her t-shirt. “N-no.”

The man beside her became a towering darkness - her step-father wasn’t tall by any stretch of the imagination, but to the tiny 9-year-old Trixie, he was impossibly huge. She winced, noting the rigidity of his limbs and sensed what may be coming.

“You ungrateful brat,” he spat, his eyes growing wild. “Mark very kindly let you stay in his house for the weekend, and you won’t even say thank you?”

His words became a growl, and her step-father crouched to his knees so that Trixie couldn’t avoid the fire in his eyes. Mark shuffled uncomfortably, unsure of how to handle the situation.

“Oh, um,” he stuttered, running a hand through his hair. “It’s okay, it’s really not necessary…”

Trixie felt intense pain as her step-father tore at her hair, her scalp burning and her eyes clamping shut. A huge, fearful sob escaped her lips as he released her, a clump of her perfect blonde curls gripped in his closed fist.

“Next time I tell you to do something,” he sneered darkly. “You better do it.”

Trixie’s tongue was a lump in her mouth. Her anxiety was fast mounting towards panic, and much as she mentally begged herself to calm down, her body was responding quicker than she could think.

She jolted into a run, stumbling against the pavement in her haste to get away. Her breath came in ragged gasps, the streets blurring into grey nothingness as tears crowded her eyes. Adrenaline was gushing through her veins and every rapid thud of her heart pushed her to move, to run, to hide, to disappear.

Trixie ran for a long time. Just how long, she would never know. Once her muscles started to protest against every stride and sweat was pouring from her temples, she was forced to stop.

She lent against a park bench, panting rapidly. Her heart was in her mouth and her eyes kept darting about herself, as though she was a startled rabbit being hunted by an unknown predator. The people enjoying their sunset stroll in the park were casting curious glances in her direction, but Trixie was none-the-wiser.

For the first time in her mad flight, Trixie’s logic broke through the chaos in her mind. Call Willam. Call Willam. Call Willam.

With shaking hands, she fumbled with her phone to locate her list of contacts. She pressed clumsily against Willam��s name, almost dialling the wrong person.

The phone rang once. Twice, three times, four.

Trixie almost sobbed out loud. What if she doesn’t answer? What if she —

“Trixie?”

She answered.

Trixie began to cry, heaving and huge sobs. Her voice was obstructed by her own fear, her misery, and her flutter of relief that Willam had answered, but she couldn’t verbalise any of this. All she could do was cry.

“Trixie,” Willam’s voice was thick with concern. “Trixie, where are you?”

Trixie tried desperately to form the words she needed, but all she could do was stammer.

“Trixie. I need to know where you are so I can help you. Please, try to breathe. Remember, like we used to do together?”

Trixie nodded against the phone, even though she knew Willam could not see her. Her cheeks were slick with her tears.

“Breathe in now. And count to 5.”

Willam’s voice was soothing as Trixie closed her eyes and drew in a broken breath. She tried to count, but her mind was still a hive of fear, and she couldn’t concentrate.

“It’s okay.” Willam said softly. “It’s okay, try again. Start again. You got this.”

Trixie did as she was told. She drew in a shuddering breath, and found that this time, she was able to count. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

“Good job Trix - and out.”

The pair of them did this for 11 more minutes – Willam, encouraging, soothing, instructing, and Trixie, just breathing.

Eventually, Trixie found that she could speak. “Willam.”

“Yes?”

“I freaked.”

“I know.”

“I thought I saw him.”

There was dead air from Willam’s line for what felt like a lifetime. “Was it?”

“No,” Trixie admitted, goose bumps dimpling across her arms. “I knew, I knew it wasn’t. And I still couldn’t—“

A car pulled up at the side of the street, and Trixie’s neck snapped up in an instant.

“Willam, how—”

“I have my ways,” Willam’s voice responded, as Trixie watched a somewhat dishevelled Katya warily approaching her from the abandoned car.

Trixie’s jaw was gaping. “W-Willam. Thank you.”

“Anytime. I told you that, didn’t I? Now…tell her, Trix.”

An empty dialling tone hummed against Trixie’s ear, and she gazed up at the confused and concerned Katya.

“What do you need?”

Trixie’s breath was a shudder. “Take me home.”

Katya extended her hand, and Trixie lay her own against it without a moment’s hesitation. “Okay.”

*

Trixie didn’t speak again for a while.

Katya drove the pair to Trixie’s flat in a car Trixie had never seen before; nor did she care to ask.

Katya followed her into the flat once they had arrived with an air of hesitancy, as though she didn’t know what she ought to do, or how to behave.

Trixie merely shuddered in the hallway, apparently unable to make a coherent decision about where she should go or what she should do. She suddenly felt the soft caress of Katya’s strong hands against her shaking shoulders, somewhere behind her.

“Shall we get you into bed, Trixie?”

Her voice was so gentle and so familiar that Trixie felt herself relax ever so slightly. She nodded, allowing Katya to manoeuvre her across the expense of the apartment maze, until they found themselves in Trixie’s bedroom.

Katya parked Trixie on the bed and quickly enveloped her in the pink bathrobe she had abandoned on her bed earlier that day. Trixie’s shivering started to abate as the shock gripping her body began to ebb away.

She became suddenly aware that no doubt her eyes would be black circles and that Katya - Katya - was crouched by her knees, gazing at her with a mixture of maddening emotions.

“I-uh,” Trixie stammered, reality dawning fast. “Wow. How did — okay.”

“You okay?”

“I —” Willam’s words reverberated in the chaos of Trixie’s wound up mind: Tell her.

Heaving a defeated sigh, Trixie lay and rolled across the expanse of her bed. “Katya - lie with me. Can you — hold me?”

Trixie, facing the wall, felt the dip of the bed as Katya clambered onto it. She felt a snaking arm around her side and the comforting warmth of Katya’s body pressing against her back. Katya’s face became entangled in her wild hair - and she whispered; “I’m here.”

That was all it took - Trixie descended into sobs once more, her body shaking with every heave of breath. Her chest ached and her muscles stung from her merciless run. Katya tightened her grip ever so slightly as Trixie cried. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe.”

Trixie felt overwhelmed - it was almost as though she was a young girl again, completely defenceless and immobile, unable to protect herself. She knew she was safe with Katya - but she was lost in a past that only she could see.

“I — I need to tell you,” Trixie stammered, sniffling, trying to grasp at the present and ground herself where she was. “About something.”

Katya said nothing; merely squeezed her again.

Trixie wiped harshly at the tears collecting beneath her eyes. “I - I was abused. As a child.”

Trixie felt Katya’s body tense against her, but she said nothing.

“And, uh,” Trixie’s words were like tar in her throat - dark, burning, drowning. “Two years ago I - I was once hospitalised for trying to —”

Trixie took in a sharp breath.

“For trying to end it.”

Trixie felt Katya’s cheek press against her bare shoulder quite suddenly.

“And, uh. I had therapy. I’ve like - worked through the abuse. I’m like — okay. But sometimes - sometimes I have some pretty vivid flashbacks, and um. I saw someone today who I thought was — him. My step-father.”

Trixie felt a tiny surge of growing courage with every word she spoke. “And Willam - Willam knows. Willam has seen me at my worst, and Willam wanted me to tell — someone. To tell you. So that someone else knows. She’s always afraid of seeing me like that again. It messed her up — you know?”

Trixie felt Katya shudder against her, and she immediately turned to face her. Silent tears were rolling down Katya’s reddening cheeks as her shoulders shook.

“Fuck,” Katya gasped, vainly attempting to conceal her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Katya,” Trixie said softly, grasping Katya’s tiny wrists in her hands. “You’re crying?”

“I just —” Katya sniffled, her bottom lip wobbling. “I hate that someone did that to you. I hate that you felt that bad. I hate it, Trixie.”

Katya descended into sobs then, wrapping her arms around Trixie’s larger frame and pulling her close. Trixie’s face was pressed against the soft fabric of Katya’s loose t-shirt, feeling comforted by the sensation of it against her cheek and the ever-familiar intoxicating scent that was Katya: the intriguing mix of vanilla, incense, and the smell of outside.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” Katya mumbled against the crown of Trixie’s head. “And I want you to tell me, if you ever feel bad again.”

Trixie nodded in response.

“And I think you should tell Court, too. 'Cause…someone needs to know, while I’m —”

“While you’re gone.”

The silence that enveloped them then was almost deafening. Katya heaved a sigh that caused Trixie’s head to rise and fall with her breath. This was the first time they had broached the subject of Katya’s impending absence.

“I don’t want to leave you. Maybe I — maybe I should stay.”

Trixie pushed herself away from Katya for a moment; so that she could meet her eyes with the fiercest glare. Katya’s cheeks were still red from her crying, her make up smudged messily across the space below her eyes. Trixie still thought that she looked beautiful.

“Listen,” Trixie said, her hand gripping Katya’s. “You are going on this tour. It’s all you’ve talked about for weeks and I would never stand in the way of your dreams. I won’t talk to you ever again if you don’t go.”

Katya’s crimson lips parted in a wobbly smile. “Okay. But — will you be okay?”

“I’m always okay,” Trixie assured her, feeling stronger than she could remember feeling; lying here with Katya, knowing that despite that she would always have some degree of adversity to overcome when it came to her past and her mental health; she was okay. She would be okay.

[createandconstruct]

I am so sorry to bother you but I'm pretty sure your wrote this amazing story over the summer about Betty and Archie looking for Jug and when they find him in the snow he had been hit by a car and you left it off on kind of a cliffhanger with FP climbing down to find them and it was the best story I have ever read!!! Just wondering if you might ever go back to it..I know a ton of people would be thrilled. Have a great day.

O H MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!!!! @leigh3114​!!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE GONNA MAKE MY HEART EXPLODE!!!!!!!!!  I SWEAR TO YOU.  I S W E A R. If I start a fic I am 100% going to finish it. 

The next chapter of Keeping the Old has been in the works since I posted the last one and trust me I have not given up on it! I hit a lot of road blocks and I ended up reworking chapter 7 from scratch into something I think you’ll really enjoy! I’m always thinking about my fics and how badly I want to update them (I more often than not have the google doc for keeping the old open), but sometimes it’s hard for me to find time to write, if only because I’m a full time student. 

However! Spring break is almost here and I’m gonna sit myself down and get myself to finish! Especially when I’ve got a wonderful reader like you!!!! I can’t let you down!!!!!! I promise you it will be soon but until then as a little treat… I’ll give a preview for the beginning of Keeping the Old chapter 7 “Downhill from here” :

The shadowed edges slid away as he blinked once, twice, and then sluggishly pulled his arm along his eyes. With a new sense of clarity, the dark outline of the couch slowly morphed into recognizable pillows and the last memory he had rang through his head again.

He’d promised he wouldn’t do this again.

Any of this: Falling asleep when he only wanted to rest his eyes. Crashing on the couch instead of a air mattress bed. Waiting in an empty trailer for someone probably wouldn’t make it home.

It was a stupid thought, looking back now. All of it. Mostly the sleep thing.

Put your head down and you’re out for the count. Wait around with a doggy bag of diner food as a poorly disguised excuse for a check-in for a parent who couldn’t find their way back before the crack of dawn…well…

He should expected the food to go cold.

Pushing to his side, Jughead dropped his hand to skim along the floor for the belongings he should have dropped there. A brush against the center rug told him he had gone to far and he retreated back, hand patting as it went, until he skimmed the edge of his bag. With his face smushed into the seat of the couch he went about searching the pockets. He moved about the crumpled bag methodically, the far off kitchen clock ticking along to each inch he moved and besides that sound seemed nonexistent. Outside the trailer, the world had probably ended - no Serpent bikes revving or Sunnyside park dogs howling - that or he’d fallen asleep in another much quieter neighborhood. Though, even the Andrews’ second floor was plagued by the late night dog bark or teenage speeder cutting through Elm’s Street.

His mind flickered away from the stiff belly of the floral cushions to a scene of deflating air mattresses just about the time his thumb hit the metal spiral of a notebook along with the plastic side of his phone case.

“Oh shit-” Suddenly he was wide awake pulling himself up and bringing his phone to his face.

The screen blinked alive with a horrible time that had him groaning.

2:18 AM

“Great. Fantastic,” he muttered through his palm just as it slid down his face to rest over his mouth. How long had he been staying with the Andrews’ and already he was screwing things up? Not that Fred seemed the guy to throw him back onto the street - he wouldn’t right? - not when he knew how Jughead had been living? Not when Fred had done the same thing to his dad some years ago? - the denial only left a sizzling burn up and down his sternum.

The phone screen mocked the time at him - 2:19am and officially a full minute of couch crash regret -  as he tapped into his messages while reaching down to throw the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder. He stood, trying to ignore the ache in his knees and the need to crack his back, while he found himself with only his own last outgoing message to Archie and with notebook falling from his opened bag to the floor.

Hey gigolo, headed back from Pop’s. You down for burgers tonight?

In retrospect, it wasn’t as funny as he thought it was - not to mention it was hiding a slight lie - but it had brought a stupid grin to his face when he’d sent it off at Pop’s counter while three burgers sizzled over the diner grills.

Now it left him carving out a hollow part of him while he turned a head to his notebook. Science notebook, his eyes told him as he blinked at the familiar black cover and the clearing memory that he definitely had kind of homework that he definitely forgot about. With one hand he made a grab for the thing and then struggled to shove it back into place while scrolling through his phone checking - hoping? - for any panicked messages from a backlash of it’s 2am do you know where your Jughead is?

Nope.

Just his own gigolo-Archie material from three hours ago.

He licked the film from the front of his teeth. Either the world really had ended everywhere but in the poorly heated den of his father’s trailer or-

HIs phone was shoved into his jacket pocket so this time the strap of his bag really was straightened and the flap of his bag was closed. And, oh yeah, wasn’t that that homework some huge lab report due tomorrow that he didn’t finish and didn’t care because what did it matter if he made it home or not-

The Pop’s bags still sat at the edge of the round table.

He’d stalked into the kitchen, hoping to end the jumbling of his thoughts. And just like when he dropped them there, a strangling tension was back in his throat. Clenching his teeth, keeping his breathing steady, he grabbed for the crumpled bag that held his and Archie’s smushed and less than edible dinner. The other bag, fell to its side. A swirling stain of brown leaked through the white of it, bringing a damp shadow onto the printed chock'lit shoppe logo.

The analog clock tsked at him while he stood undecided between the fridge and the front door. His teeth played with the skin of his lip until a piece tore away from him to swallow. His feet  sunk into the slits of the kitchen floor tile all the while his phone remained still, and the warm spot he’d made on the couch was going cold. When he’d stalked his way across town to the trailer two hours earlier and found himself unsurprised at the missing truck outside hadn’t he reasoned that this was better? No one would notice he was here.

Even with an out of place, obviously left by your son, burger bag, a stumbling hazy eyed man would probably miss it as sign of his lingering presence so…

“Whatever,” he choked and the clock settled onto 2:23. The next minute felt like a countdown for him to change his mind so he didn’t waste anytime. His beanie and satchel were straightened and his phone dropped into his pocket. His Pop’s bag hung in his hand by his thigh as he pulled open the door to the outside timeless town.

A frigid whip caught him across the face.

His eyes fought to open from the sting and when they crack with open with tears he was left blinded by the blend of shadows with the beginning cover of white along every surface he could spot. Jughead peered across the trailer park, just barely, he could hear the kitchen clock slur into a slower tick. Time really had been frozen it seemed. Iced over in a early autumn snowfall. He felt his body lean back, considering the idea.

Throwing the bags in the fridge, staying wrapped in the warmth in the trailer, sucking up his father’s arrival at dawn.

The wind swirled and snapped at his eyes with tiny flakes of white. Some reasonable piece of him could already see that what awaited him - a bare minimum lecture from Fred and early morning science homework with Archie who definitely didn’t finish his either - was better than the ritual  with his father that awaited him here.

Yeah, the prospect of walking back wasn’t bad at all.

Jughead shut the door.

[acenancy]

anonymous asked:

Bellarke Fic were Bellamy finds out when Clarke's birthday is and makes her her a ring or bracelet or picks her a flower or something?? :) - cause she should still celebrate her birthday even if it's the apocalypse :) THANKYOU

Belated

Wow, k, so I saved this ask in my drafts and now it won’t post which is super cute. Sorry, anon. Anyway, I wrote this fairly quickly? It was just fun to write lmao. ALSO ty @bcnightsquad​ for inspiring me with the drinking game vignette you sent <3

Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Bellarke Rating: G Words: 1,381

(ao3)

Bellamy shouldn’t have expected to beat Clarke at pong. He saw her obliterate everyone at every alcohol fueled game during their time at the Dropship, but for some reason he still agreed to play against her tonight. He’s not bad, and she’s had to down a few of her own cups thanks to him, but Clarke has hardly missed a shot. Before he knows it, Bellamy is chugging his last cup in defeat.

“You know,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “seeing as I’m a member of the guard, the legal drinking age is twenty one, and you’re only seventeen, I could arrest you right now if I wanted to.”

With a roll of her eyes, Clarke aims the browned, bent ping pong ball they used to play at Bellamy’s head. “First of all, age restrictions stopped being enforced the day one hundred kids were sent to Earth without adult supervision,” Clarke reminds him. It’s not a written rule but Bellamy supposes it’s true. Age is obsolete when all that matters is survival. “Second,” Clarke continues, “I’m eighteen.”

“Still not of age,” counters Bellamy. He tosses the ping pong ball back to her.

“Must we revisit my first point?”

Clarke’s age has never been something Bellamy focused on. She’s wiser than the oldest Arkadian and more mature than most adults. If her youthful features didn’t play a factor in Bellamy’s perception of her, he would assume she’s the most ancient person on the planet. It’s easy to forget that in reality, the only reason Clarke is on Earth at all is because she was just a kid.

And now she’s not.

Age isn’t important on the ground, birthdays even less so, but people are important. Clarke is important. Especially to Bellamy.

How could he have possibly missed her birthday?

“Since when have you been eighteen?” Bellamy asks.

Clarke shrugs, walking over to the other end of the table to stand with him. “Since Mount Weather, I think. Could have been before that. The council forgot to supply us with calendars.”

“Typical.”

“Not that Priamfaya would spare me if I were still seventeen.”

“You’re literally turning a conversation about your birthday into a discussion about the end of the world.”

“My birthday was months ago, Bellamy.” Any humor Clarke wears slips from her face as she steps into his space. She stares him dead in the eyes when she says “the apocalypse is now.”

Trying for comfort, Bellamy slides his knuckles along the path between her elbow and shoulder. “You really know how to lighten the mood, Princess.”

Frowning, Clarke conks her head against his shoulder and rests it there. Into his sleeve she mumbles a halfhearted “shut up.”

While the topic of Armageddon is always buzzing throughout Arkadia, any mention of Clarke’s birthday is not after that night. Not that it should be. Like Clarke said, it was months ago. Bellamy, however, can’t seem to shake it from his brain.

He’ll have a meal that’s not gross and wish he’d had it for Clarke as a birthday dinner. The sweet berries he finds down by the river could be used for an excellent birthday pastry. The flowers growing along the Ark’s metal shell would be an extra sweet present.

Bellamy makes a list of these things, in case Clarke ever makes it to nineteen.

It doesn’t occur to him that he can still do something for her now, months after her birthday, until he and Kane stop by Niylah’s trading post on their way to Polis.

The weather is shifting dramatically as the days go by, and though it was blistering hot when they left Arkadia two hours ago, it’s below freezing now. The Ark issued guard jackets are nothing against the biting winds and slushy rain they’re facing.

Kane has decided to invest in heavy furs to protect them against the cold. He goes through a pile at one end of Niylah’s store while Bellamy stands and broods at the other. He distracts himself from the memories this place brings by watching the chimes clang and ding with the violent wind, over and over. Old silverware crashes against jewelry crashes against wires and tubing and scrap.

Bellamy almost doesn’t recognize her dad’s watch amidst all the thrashing.

Its black band is frayed at the edges, its face cracked to the point where the hands are no longer visible. Though when Bellamy plucks it from the chime it hangs from and holds it to his ear, he can still hear the ancient ticking of time inside.

“Here’s your fur,” Kane says from behind him. He passes Bellamy a massive pelt, midnight black, the softest thing Bellamy’s fingers have ever touched. He melts just imagining how warm it will keep him in this brutal weather.

Bellamy offers Kane a grateful nod and regretful smile. The fur is extraordinary.

He knows he can’t keep it.

Without saying a word, Bellamy lifts the watch for Kane to see, It takes a moment for the other man to process before recognition dawns on his face, then understanding. “You do what you have to do,” he says.

So Bellamy trades his new warm fur for Jake Griffin’s old broken watch.

“Clarke never wanted to sell it,” Niylah tells him, sad eyes trained on the face cradled in his palm, “but she had nothing else to give.”

Bellamy doesn’t mind the subzero chill when the watch is clutched safely in his hand. Not even when his nose runs and his eyes water and he loses all feeling in his extremities. Not even when his lips turn blue or when he slips from consciousness outside Polis’ gates. Not even when he wakes up in med bay with no recollection of the last two days.

Selling his fur was still worth it.

Eyes fluttering open, Bellamy squints against the fluorescent lights bearing over him, turning his head to find Clarke sitting vigil at his bedside.

A hissed “I can’t believe you,” is the first thing he hears. Clarke is struggling to glare at him through the relief swimming in her eyes. Her hands are gripping his vice like. “Kane told me what you did.”

Bellamy blinks, trying to remember how exactly he wound up this way.

“You traded your fur,” Clarke reminds him, “for a watch that doesn’t even work.”

“Didn’t need a fur,” Bellamy mumbles. “There was a nice breeze.”

“Bellamy, it wasn’t a breeze. You almost died of hypothermia.”

He looks down at their hands, both of her own still wrapped tightly around his. On her right wrist is the watch, tattered and shattered but there, on her, where it belongs.

He taps its face with his free hand. “Happy birthday.”

A frustrated huff escapes her, at war with the smile fighting to curl at the corners of her lips. “Bellamy...”

“You’re welcome.”

A tear spills from her eye and lands on Bellamy’s thumb. He releases her hands to swipe it across her cheekbone, brushing the moisture away. His heart aches, the way it always does when she cries, except this time the ache is sweet. This time, she’s smiling too.

“Thank you,” Clarke whispers, voice so small he can barely hear her, “but this watch wouldn’t have meant anything if I lost you.”

Not for the first time, she leaves Bellamy speechless.

With every word spoken, every action taken, Clarke has made it explicitly clear how much Bellamy means to her in the last few weeks. He knows he’s not her foot soldier or some means to an end. He knows they’re equals, on every level, and partners in everything they do. Together they’re leaders, confidantes, best friends, possibly...more. Whatever they are, they need each other. It’s the only thing he’s certain of.

So maybe the watch wasn’t worth his life. But seeing the light shine in Clarke’s eyes, Bellamy doesn’t regret a thing.

“Yeah.” Emotion wells in his chest and he clears his throat before speaking. “I’ll try not to die the next time I go birthday shopping for you.”

Clarke scoffs, but she’s grinning stupidly when she leans her head on his side, and her watch clad hand over his heart. Bellamy clasps it, holding her close.

“Don’t even bother trying,” says Clarke. “I already have everything I need.”

[tanmath3-blog]

Konstantine Padadias is an extremely nice man and talented author. Writing has been in his blood for a long time and his passion shows. He has a great sense of humor and has even decided that his children will be trapeze artist. We forgot to mention that he doesn’t have kids yet. Of course this made me giggle. If you don’t know him or haven’t read his books please take some time and introduce yourself. Grab one of his books and please remember to leave a review. Please help me welcome Konstantine Padadias to Roadie Notes…..

  1. How old were you when you first wrote your first story?

While I can’t be 100% certain, i think I wrote my first story (by way of crayons on notepaper and sticker-rebuses) when I was about 5. It was a collaborative effort with my brother, who was 3, while we were rebooting one of our earlier imaginary playmates, DUCKIE. He wasn’t too bad, but he just lacked the oomph we needed to push him into a franchise.

So we ended up with KITTENCHILDE (first name Mordecai), the richest kitten in the world. He was born with a silver cat toy dangling in front of his face, hated work, controlled the world’s economy and was plagued with moocher relatives.

I didn’t really start working on writing another story until I was 14 and my English teacher at the time told me I was hopeless with the language, so I started writing a pretty atrocious, 200k word fanfic starring every character from every game I’d played so far. I’ve since expunged it from the internet since it was absolute cringe but hey, it got the ball rolling.

2. How many books have you written?

Counting all the stuff that didn’t make it off the ground? I’d say around 6, at last count. The first one was a fantasy western story about an android assassin in a steam punk world. It was called STONE COLD COUNTENANCE and it had voodoo and ancient sorcery and demon dogs but it was so poorly written that I had to make it go away.

The second one was a novel that’s currently stuck in rewrite hell, which began as a post apocalyptic body horror novel. I started working on it in 2010 and have since taken off 50k words, added another 30k, re-worked the setting and now it’s slowly turning into the story of a motorized Mongol Horde coming back in the wake of a fossil fuel apocalypse. I call it the CHROME HORDE and I hate it and love it in the same breath.

The third once is a YA novella that’s still stuck between publishers, titled TEENAGE BADASS. It’s the story of Finn, a monster hunter born, who chooses to leaves the magical comfort of her weird family to venture out into the strange world we call our own. Also, it feature time travelling Nazi werewolves.

My fourth book is SORRY, WRONG COUNTRY, which I am immensely proud of, on account of how I was working on it for 8 years and made it happen. It’s a collection of short stories about everyday weirdness in the heart of post-recession Greece.

My fifth book is a pet project I’ve always wanted to get down to, a novella that’s the first in a series I’ve always wanted to get on with. It’s titled VIOLENCE DAVE and it’s all power metal and space marine rage and all that good old ultra-violence.

And finally, the last one is FUTURESUCK, which is coming out by Sybaritic Press and people tell me it’s depressing but I don’t see how: it’s just the story of the worst time traveler ever, whizzing across the time stream after having erased his own timeline while trying to get rich quick and messing it up royally. He can never get back but neither can we and there’s nothing we can do about it.

3. Anything you won’t write about?

Politics. Can’t stand the stuff. It’s toxic and it clings to your skin and if you aren’t careful, people around you are gonna catch it. There’s nothing more stilted and awkward than stopping a story cold in its tracks just to advertise your leanings or tell people why they’re wrong and I wont’ be changing my mind about it anytime soon.

4. Tell me about you. Age (if you don’t mind answering), married, kids, do you have another job etc…

At the risk of dating this interview, I’m 32 at the time and happily married with the only woman I could ever call ‘wife’. No kids yet, but they’re gonna happen. I’m thinking about 6, so I can train them as trapeze artists on the off-chance this writing thing doesn’t work out.

I’ve worked as a sandwich shop worker, owned a small business selling religious icons, worked in marketing, bookstore sales and even spent a spell living full-time off manuscript editing. But if I had to pick a career for myself, I’d cook for a living. People tell me it’s a crap job, but there’s nothing like the sizzle of cooking oil over a fire to get me going in the morning.

Also, waking up at 4am. People can’t stand it, but there’s no sight better than that pre-dawn light, peeking through the cloud cover on a Monday morning.

5. What’s your favorite book you have written?

So far, it’s gotta be SORRY, WRONG COUNTRY. Mostly because I worked on it for 8 years and I rewrote it a thousand times and I was never good enough for it, but I loved working on it and I think it liked the attention.

It’s a collection of stories from regular weirdos, customers and passers-by I got to meet while the country was coming apart around me and I think they kept me from losing it, especially when things turned for the worse. Hell, even if we slip off the edge of the First World, I’ll still have those guys to keep me sane.

6. Who or what inspired you to write?

Like I said, i started because I wanted to piss off my English teacher, but the person that got me into writing was the Sandwich Captain, a man I kept running into at 2am in the morning when I was working in that aforementioned sandwich shop. He was probably the most interesting man in the world and he hated the attention and he was more troubled than Sisyphus.

And I loved him for it.

7. What do you like to do for fun?

Don’t laugh, but I make pickles. Carrots, cucumbers, cabbage and garlic, chili and bell peppers and onions, oh my. Then I check on them in the middle of the night, as if they were children and worry for about two months before I crack them open.

Also, I like to grow stuff. Nothing too major: maybe some peppers, some onions, when I can. Someday, I might just head off to the boonies, live off the land, then come back just in time to regret it.

8. Any traditions you do when you finish a book?

Panic. Worry. Tell people. Feel like garbage. Start planning out the next one. Am I doing it right? I don’t think I am doing it right, at all.

9. Where do you write? Quite or music?

Mostly, I write anywhere. I write at work, between handling customers. I write at home, while trying to wrangle dinner. I never had too much time to write since I started doing it earnest, but I can’t stand music, so I guess I need the..noise?

The hum of humanity, the gentle rumble of the kitchen or traffic.

God, if the world ended I don’t think I’d ever write another word.

10. Anything you would change about your writing? I don’t even know where to begin: personally, I hate my dialogue, think I need tons of work on establishing hooks, am garbage at pacing and overall wouldn’t publish me if it was up to me. Also, I think my research is atrocious and I have a very heavy hand when it comes to editing myself, to the point where I start second guessing to an atrocious degree.

You know what? It’s best I don’t touch anything. I already hate the entire thing.

11. What is your dream? Famous writer?

Famous? With the attention and the interviews and the podcasts and all that jazz? No, just give me enough to live on and a tank of gas-filled from book sales and a settled power bill and I’ll be happy.

But then maybe I’ll just bellyache and wish I had a movie deal by then.

12. Where do you live?

Athens, heart of Greece, birthplace of philosophers and every terrible idea alike, in a little place overlooking the Acropolis, nestled against the hill of Filopappou. On summer nights, we’re lulled to sleep by the distant baying of strays. In winter, beggars form impromptu choruses in street corners.

We swelter in August and we freeze in December and it hasn’t snowed in Christmas since forever, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

13. What’s your favorite thing about writing?

Writing itself, I guess. Also, browsing markets, struggling to reach publishers, trying to finagle a story every chance I get.

It might come off as cynical, but I hate writing for myself. I am the worst audience I’ve ever had: I’m awfully judgmental, offer little to no feedback and am an all-around insufferable smartass.

But writing for others? Man oh man, that’s a blast. I love talking to editors or readers, especially, pitching ideas on the sly and searching for that little nod, that semi-indifferent “go for it” sign and know that I wanna give them something they will enjoy.

Hell, even if I bungle it up I’ll get some form of feedback.

  You can connect with https:Konstantine Padadias here: Sorry, Wrong Country Book link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/194633507X/ref=cm_cr_dpvoterdr?ie=UTF8&thanksvoting=cr-vote-R103RDQVJM0OMW#R103RDQVJM0OMW.2115.Helpful.Reviews

Shapescapes Editing Services: http://shapescapes.blogspot.in/p/blog-page_34.html

  Some of Konstantine Padadias’s books:

Getting personal with Konstantine Padadias Konstantine Padadias is an extremely nice man and talented author. Writing has been in his blood for a long time and his passion shows.

[lumiolivier]

Chapter Twelve:  The Birth of Russell

Word Count:  4242

Chapter No. 12/36

Notes:  I’m sorry.  I had a thing last weekend, so I didn’t post last weekend.  However, I don’t regret it.  I was busy making a beautiful cake that I’m sure my MCs would’ve approved of.  Big time.  If you haven’t seen it, I posted it on Snapchat, I posted it on Facebook, I posted it on Twitter.  I might post it here eventually because I’m pretty damn proud of it.  Especially for the little experience I had working with fondant.  But all that aside, how about a new chapter?  Is that ok with you?

Chapter Eleven:  Face Off

Four-thirty came far too early.  I didn’t want to move.  I had zero desire to get out of bed.  Then again, I had to be at Julian’s in half an hour, so the cougars didn’t attack.  Now, I get why he said cosplayers were chameleons. Granted, he was speaking of his ex-fiancée, but we can change who we are at the drop of a hat.  Sometimes that’s a terrible thing, like the case of Julian’s ex. Other times, it’s what’s keeping his ass safe.

 Despite the fact that I was half dead inside, I took a quick shower and picked my poison for the day. Today was a Ciel Phantomhive day. I’m not sure why, but it was.  A lot of deep, rich blues and a little bit of ruffle.  It was nineteenth century London and Ciel was a noble after all.  As soon as I looked cuter than all holy hell, I packed up my makeup case and started heading toward Julian’s while the sun rose behind me.

 I walked into his house without bothering to knock first like he said I could.  Huh.  All was still in Julian’s house.  I’m almost positive I told him I’d be here at five.  Here it was, five o'clock.  Where, oh where, was Julian?  I know he isn’t doing something silly like still sleeping.  We had this planned last night.  I’m sure he did something smart like set an alarm either on his clock or on his phone.  Because that’s the kind of responsible adult he is.

 However, that wasn’t the case.  Of course not.  That couldn’t be the case.  Not at all. Julian’s ass was still out cold. Every fiber of my being wanted to just scream and bitch at him, but I understood.  I was a bit on the sleep deprived side myself yet.  Instead of going off on him, I wanted to see something. Sure, it was a little creepy, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.  Besides, I hadn’t had something quite like this ins two years.  I took off my knee high black boots and climbed into his bed, replacing his Miku pillow.  That I honestly thought he was joking about.  But I had no room to judge.  I had Sebastian.  He had Miku. No judgment.

 Wow…I forgot what this felt like.  A warm body against me.  Almost as if he was acting on pure instinct, Julian’s arm tightened around me, cradling me against his chest.  It had been so long since I had felt so safe and loved and special to someone.  I swallowed the growing lump in my throat, hoping my eyes didn’t spring a leak, too.  Julian didn’t need to wake up to that.

 “Good morning, Mimi,” his voice grumbled sleepily, shaking me to my very soul.

 “How did you know it was me?” I wondered as he held me a little tighter.

 “You said five o'clock last night,” Julian reminded me, not even bothering to open his eyes, “Here it is. Five o'clock, probably.  Who else would it be?  My mom’s in Florida and you’re the only one I know here.”

 “Your mom would come in and cuddle wit you like this?” I worried.  Maybe Julian was more of a mama’s boy than I gave him credit for.

 “Before you ask,” he rubbed his eyes, “I don’t have an Oedipus complex.  But when I was younger, she’d come in early in the morning and I’d get all snuggly.”

 “I can’t imagine,” I got a little more comfortable, “I think I can do this in about half an hour.”

 “In that case,” Julian smiled a little, “We have a little time to kill, yeah?”

 “We don’t have time to kill,” I corrected him, “That’s not a definite time limit.  We need to get this done now.”

 “Relax, Mimi,” he covered my face with his hand, “I’m not awake and neither are you.  We can go back to sleep.”

 “No, we can’t,” I tried getting up, but between Julian’s arm and my sheer lack of willpower, I stayed in his bed, “We have to go to work.”

 “I don’t want to,” Julian whined, “I want to stay here with you.  We can work tomorrow.”

 “I know,” I rested my head on his chest, “And we will work tomorrow, but unfortunately, we have to work today, too.  We have to get up.”

 “You sound worse than my mom,” he finally sat up in bed, “You think you could throw me a t-shirt?”

 “Do I have to?” I admired the view of Julian’s muscle definition.

 “Ogle later,” Julian promised, “For now, I could probably cut diamond.  I need a t-shirt.”

 “Fine,” I grabbed a black one out of his closet on the non-cosplay side, throwing it at him, “Here.”

 “And a flannel,” he requested, “Don’t care what color.”

 “You want me get you some pants, too?” I teased.

 “If you don’t mind.”

 “No,” I rolled my eyes, “You’re a big boy, Julian.  You can get your own damn pants.”

 “Jesus,” Julian smiled, “Someone woke up on the wrong side of my bed this morning.  You’re usually a left side, aren’t you?”

 “Shut up,” I threw him a green flannel, “It was a momentary lapse.”

 “Was it?” he asked.

 “You’re delirious,” I wrote him off.

 “So, what if I am?” Julian stuck his tongue out at me like an adult.

 “Come on,” I left his bedroom, “We have a lot to do and little time to do it.”

 “Do you know how much it sucked peeling that liquid latex off last night?” he scoffed, “That made for a fun shower.”

 “Still got my rings though?” I hoped.

 “Yes,” Julian nodded, grabbing them off his kitchen counter, “All three of them.”

 “Good!” I smiled, “By the way, I suggest you grab some baby oil on the way home if you don’t have any. Gets the liquid latex off easier.”

 “Thanks for telling me that now,” he growled.

 “No problem!” I chirped, “Had to make you suffer a little bit.”

 “Haven’t I suffered enough?” Julian whined, sitting on a barstool, “And I have to go through all of this all over again?  It sucks!”

 “Welcome to the pains of being a woman,” I retaliated.

 “Touché,” he let it go pretty quick after that, “All this just to keep a group of women off my back.”

 I started putting on the first layer of liquid latex the same way I did yesterday, “I do wish people had the decency to keep some of their thoughts to themselves.  And their hands…”

 “You, of all people, understand why I’m doing this,” Julian pointed out, “I saw the way Griffin was with you.  How you don’t straight up deck him is beyond me.  I have to commend you for your self-control.  How in the hell do you deal with that?”

 “I’m a firm believer in karma,” I admitted, “One day, his being disgusting is going to come back and bit him in the ass and he won’t be able to sit for a while.”

 “You sure do know how to paint a picture, Mimi,” he giggled, “I wish it was a better picture.”

 “Me, too,” I sighed out, “Maybe while we’re running the con circuit, it’ll get better.”

 “It’s amazing,” Julian gushed, “There’s nothing like competing at conventions.  Especially if they require a skit for groups.  Those are always the best.  That’s when it can turn into crack real quick.  It doesn’t always go that route and they’ll end up following something from their respective genre down to the letter. Other times, it ends up in a rap battle.”

 “Oh, dear God,” I shook my head, “This is why the aliens pass us over.”

 “Hey,” he stopped me for a minute, “Do you think you and I could do Roy and Riza for our first con?”

 “What?” I gave him a look, “Are you serious?”

 “They’re kind of my OTP,” Julian admitted, “They’re too perfect for each other and you know it.”

 “I could’ve told you that,” I brushed him off, “It’s Royai!  What’s not to love about it?  Her father was his alchemy teacher.  She’s practically his nanny.  They’ve known each other since the dawn of time.  Give me two people more suited for each other!”

 “I can’t.”

 “Exactly,” I thought a little more about what he had just said and I never felt such a combination of stupid and anxious, “Are you trying to tell me that we’re too perfect for each other?”

 “No,” he defended, “I’m saying that I never got to do Royai and I want to do Royai, dammit.”

 “Your ex wouldn’t do Royai?” I wondered, hoping that wasn’t poking the bear too much.

 “She never liked Fullmetal Alchemist,” Julian explained, “She thought it was too disturbing. Roxanne didn’t like the gory stuff too much, so I had to watch Fullmetal Alchemist and Attack on Titan when she wasn’t home.”

 “So, you never got to do Edwin either?” my heart broke.

 “Nope.”

 “But you have a State Alchemist pocket watch!” I pouted while blending my little heart out, “You probably have Edward’s jacket somewhere, too, don’t you?”

 “Oh, yeah,” he assured, “I might not have made the watch, but I did have to carve the don’t forget into it.  Did it with my soldering iron.”

 “Fun fact,” I got another brush, “October third?  The day Ed and All burned the house down?”

 “Yeah,” Julian backed off for a minute, grabbing a Rockstar can off the counter, “What about it? That’s next week, too.”

 “That’s my birthday,” I beamed, “I was predestined for otakuhood as soon as I came out of the womb.”

 “Are you serious?” he gasped, “That’s fucking awesome!”

 “It’s true,” I squeaked, “I’m officially a little cooler than you.”

 “I don’t know about that,” Julian stopped me, “I share a birthday with a particular character that you would have his babies in an instant.”

 “And who is this?”

 “Well,” he smirked while I put his piercings in, “My birthday is June thirteenth.”

 My heart stopped, “Noiz.”

 “That’s right,” Julian sang out, “Was I right about the whole babies thing?”

 “I might not want any of my own right now,” I elaborated, “But if the situation were to arise, I would be more than happy to surrogate for Noiz and Aoba.”

 “You would,” he rolled his eyes.

 “Hey!” I snapped, putting his second eyebrow ring in, “You’re moving too much.  I can and will poke your eye out.”

 “Sorry,” Julian apologized, “You know, Mimi, I just noticed something.”

 “What’s that, sweetie?”

 “You and I have hung out every single night since we met,” he pointed out, “Almost.”

 “Yeah,” I slid the ring through the liquid latex, “What about it?”

 “I’m just curious,” Julian shrugged, “What are we doing tonight?”

 “I can’t come over tonight,” I broke the news to him, “I have to stay home.  Mom and Dad miss me.”

 “Then, why don’t I come over to your place instead?” he suggested, “That way, your parents get to see you and we don’t have to break our streak.”

 “As genius as that is,” I praised, “And this is nothing against you in the least, but I think some time with the folks wouldn’t be a half bad idea.  Besides, you still won’t tell me what you have planned for Saturday.”

 “I never said I had anything planned,” Julian groaned, “I just told you to keep it open.”

 “I had to cancel on Veronica for that.”

 “And you were ok with that.”

 I gave Julian a little smack upside the head and screwed the little ball on his last ring with no idea what I was going to do with him.  Maybe maiming.  Maiming sounded like a good idea, “There.  You’re golden, Julian.  You want a new name and a backstory?”

 “You are a writer, aren’t you?” he teased.

 “Guilty,” I beamed, “Now, do you or don’t you?”

 “What the hell?” Julian nodded, “Why not?  Hit me. Who am I?”

 “You’re the childhood friend that moved back to town sophomore year of high school,” I put his own words back in his mouth, “Remember?  We were best friends through grade school.  Then, when you came back, puberty hit you like a ton of bricks and you became the hot, yet approachable friend.”

 “Use your own material next time,” he shoved me a little, “What’s my name?”

 “Haruka…” I sighed out, immediately biting my tongue.  That wasn’t supposed to slip out.  Neither was that half orgasm that came with it.

 “Excuse me?” Julian lit up, Come again?  Because I have a feeling you just did a little.”

 “Ha, ha,” I laughed sarcastically, “I’m sorry.  I just had a flashback to a dream I had a while back.”

 “And what kind of dream was that?” he poked at me.

 “Nothing,” I turned bright red almost instantly, “Forget I said anything.”

 “That noise your throat just made is going to be pretty hard to forget,” he dug deeper, “What happened in this dream?”

 “Drop it, Julian,” I growled at him.

 “Oh, no,” Julian grabbed his car keys off the kitchen counter, “We need to explore this a little further. You said Haruka, so I’m assuming those Iwatobi boys were involved.  Or maybe just Haru.”

 “Shut up, Julian,” I was ready to punch him in his reconstructed mouth.

 “I won’t judge,” he promised, “I’m curious.”

 “No!” I snapped, “I’m keeping that dream to myself.”

 “Please?” he begged.

 “I’m not telling you,” I shot him down, regrettably getting into the passenger seat of his car.

 “Do it,” Julian insisted, “All the cool kids are doing it.”

 “I don’t give a shit about the cool kids,” I admitted, “I never was one of the cool kids.  Why bother starting now?”

 “If you tell me,” he bargained, “I’ll leave you alone about it and I’ll forget it ever happened.”

 “Fine,” I caved, “And you won’t judge?”

 “Not at all,” Julian swore, “Mine’s done some pretty shameful things, too.  You’re not alone.”

 “Ok,” I let out a heavy, exasperated, defeated sigh, “It started out with me waking up in bed and for some ungodly reason, Rin Matsuoka was standing in my doorway with my work apron on.  Don’t ask me why.  He just was.”

 “Ok,” he backed out of his driveway, “I won’t question it.  Go on.”

 “He didn’t want me to go to work,” I continued, “He just wanted to stay in bed all day with me and apparently, the night before we were having sex.”

 “Hot,” Julian praised, “Let me guess.  You two got kinky, didn’t you?”

 “Rin told me I was bendy,” I groaned, my voice dripping with regret, “And…It wasn’t us two…”

 “Uh-oh,” he grinned darkly, “I smell a threesome!”

 “Yeah,” I bit my lip, “There was a threesome involved.”

 “I’m guessing Haru was the other?”

 “Yep,” I went on, “And Haru had gotten really jealous of me because Rin was favoring me over him.  I got thrown off my own bed and Haru jumped in with Rin.  Then, things got really heated and Haru was asking Rin what his name was.  hence why when you asked me what your name was in relation to the face I gave you, that’s why I said Haruka.”

 “Oh, Mimi,” Julian pulled up to the café, “You didn’t say Haruka.”

 “That never happened,” I snarled, “You tell anyone what happened this morning, I swear to God, I’ll start peeling latex.”

 “I’m not going to tell anyone,” he reassured, “I promised you that I wouldn’t judge and I wouldn’t tell. So, you had a little yaoi dream.”

 “You were making quite the fuss over it,” I settled a little, shutting the car door behind me.

 “I just like giving you shit,” Julian hugged me, bringing me down the rest of the way, “But you never gave me a name.”

 “I don’t know what I’d call you,” I wiggled out of his arms, “What’s your middle name?”

 “Russell.”

 “Seriously?” I scoffed, “Fine.  It’ll have to do.”

 “I can’t be Sebastian, can I?” he nudged me inside, “Because that was my name without the new face.”

 “I’m sorry,” I grabbed my apron, “It was the first thing I thought of.”

 “I must admit,” Julian shot me a wink, “It did get me all tingly when you gave me the order.”

 “You’re such a dork.”

 “But I’m your dork, young mistress,” he bowed to me.

 “Julian…”

 “I’ll get to work then!”

 That boy…A part of me wanted to beat him senseless with a wrench Winry Rockbell style.  But on that same token, a part of me wanted to hold onto him and never let him go.  If I thought about it hard enough, we did actually have quite an Edward and Winry relationship. We both shot down any thought of us being together.  I wanted to beat Julian with a wrench already.  Hell, in a way, I had made artificial body parts for him, too.

 Then, I thought about how Edward and Winry ended up.  I could still hear it in the back of my head clear as day.  Equivalent exchange!  I’ll give have of my life to you, if you give half of yours to me!  Probably one of my favorite moments in anime history.  But in application to the current situation I was in, if I was really going to compare Julian and me to Edward and Winry, they ended up married with two kids, living happily ever after in Resembool.

 And then, a Russian gymnastics team made their home in the pit of my stomach.  For a brief moment, I was almost positive I was going to throw up. I had one arm on my stomach and the other on the counter, doing my best to keep my balance.  I hated when shit like this happened.  These sudden realizations were going to be the death of me.

 “Mimi?” Julian came out from the kitchen, “You ok?”

 “Fine,” I tried bringing myself down, “I’ll be ok.”

 “You sure?” he asked, “You don’t look so good.”

 “Rude,” I laughed it off, “I’ll be fine.”

 All of a sudden, dizziness hit me like a Mack truck.  But I had to keep my balance.  The last thing I wanted to do was pass out at work.  I was fine.  I’d be ok. I was just overthinking things. Yeah.  That’s all this was.  just a big misunderstanding.  Just my mind playing tricks on me.  Everything was cool.  Everything would be ok.

 “Come here,” Julian had a paper towel in his hand and put it up to my nose, tilting my head back, “And you said you were ok.”

 “What the hell are you doing?” I snapped.  But in the same breath, I noticed the blood soaking through that paper towel.  This wasn’t happening…

 “Taking care of your random bloody nose,” he did his best to calm me down, “Now, are you sure you’re ok?”

 “Just a little overreaction,” I assured, “I’ll be fine.”

 “Maybe you should sit down until your nose stops bleeding,” Julian suggested, “You want anything?”

 “Something cold,” I requested, taking the register booth.

 “Green tea, right?” he asked, “Squeeze of honey, little splash of lemon juice?”

 “Yeah,” I was impressed he remember something so trivial.  The day he came in, I was making a small batch green tea.  Then again, on that same token, the day he came in was the day I had the Rin/Haru dream.

 “What happened here?” Mr. Griffin had come in.  Fantastic.

 “Mimi had a nosebleed,” Julian reported, “Nothing to worry about.  I got it handled.”

 “Thank you…Uh…” the boss looked him over, “What was your name again?”

 “Russell, sir,” he didn’t even hesitate.  

 “Anyway,” Mr. Griffin went on, “Mimi, are you alright?”

 “I’m not going to bleed out,” I promised, taking my cold green tea from Julian, “What brings you by today, Mr. Griffin?”

 “Just checking in on my new model employee,” he told, “I did say to have him trained by the end of the week.”

 “Well?” I asked, “How did I do?”

 “Not too bad,” Mr. Griffin applauded, “Good for you, Mimi.  How does a twenty-five-cent raise sound?”

 “Really?” I squeaked, “That sounds wonderful!  Thank you, sir.”

 “I’d only do that for you,” he winked at me, sending chills down my spine, “As soon as your nose is done bleeding, get back to work.”

 “Yes, sir!” I chirped as he walked out the door, “Hell yeah!  I just got raise!”

 “Congratulations,” Julian sang, bringing me another paper towel.

 “I kind of want to celebrate,” I admitted, “Care to join me?”

 “I’d love to,” he agreed, “But remember?  You said you had to stay home tonight because your parents miss you.”

 “As much as I’m going to hate to say this,” I threw one of my bloody paper towels away, “I think you might be right.”

 “Excuse me?” Julian leaned in, “You think you could say that a little louder for those in the back?”

 “You were right,” I pushed him away, “I think you should come over tonight.  That way, we can celebrate my raise and my parents still get to see me.”

 “Awesome!” he squeaked, “Should I bring a bottle of wine or would that be in bad taste?”

 “You could bring that bottle of Fireball,” I suggested, “Just keep it in your inner coat pocket.”

 “I don’t have an inner coat pocket.”

 “You get what I mean, smartass,” I rolled my eyes.

 “Alright then,” Julian smiled, “Dinner with the parents already?  Mimi, this is so sudden.”

 “Would you like a bloody nose, too?”

 “Not particularly.”

 Once the blood stopped pouring out of my nose, I threw myself back into the fray and buckled down. I don’t know why I was still trying to impress the boss.  Griffin wasn’t even here anymore and I had already gotten my raise.  All I was waiting on was a promotion.  And I was content with where I was now.  As soon as lunch rolled around, I was definitely earning that raise.

 For some strange reason, we got flooded with more customers than normal.  there had to have been something going on in town that I didn’t know about. Didn’t keep myself up to date with the community calendar.  I could’ve cared less.  Tractor show in town maybe?  It was that time of the year.  That was the only thing I could think of.  Regardless, I still had a shit ton of people to deal with.  However, one local face made it a little easier to handle.

 “Hey, Roni,” I put her wrap and her coffee in her hands, “As much as I’d love to chat right now, we’re swamped.”

 “That’s fine,” Veronica understood, “Where’s Julian?  I wanted to say hi before I left.”

 “Julian’s not here,” I explained, keeping my voice down, “He’s kind of incognito.”

 “Who’s the new guy then?” she asked, eyeing him up.

 “That’s Russell,” I said, making change for another customer, “He’s a peach.”

 “He looks like he could be Julian’s brother,” Veronica thought, “Does Julian have any brothers that have mysteriously blown into town?”

 “You have a boyfriend, Veronica,” I reminded her, getting someone else’s order.

 “I know,” she pouted, “I’m just saying if things fall through with us.  It doesn’t hurt to have a back-up plan.”

 “Wow,” I cringed, “That’s terrible.”

 “That’s the way the cookie crumbles,” she shrugged, “Just trying to stay on top of the game.”

 “I’m disappointed,” I shook my head at her, “I raised you better than that.”

 “But do you honestly think I’m better than that?” Veronica asked with a note of condescension in her voice, “Do you really?”

 “There’s always hope,” I kept my fingers crossed, “Maybe with the next one.”

 “You know you love me,” she chimed, “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

 “See you later, Roni,” I waved her off.

 This job was going to be the death of me.  Why couldn’t I have something easier?  Why couldn’t my fan fiction make me money?  Why did no one want to publish me?  That’s right.  I have to have an original idea in order to get published.  And I hadn’t had an original idea in five years.  Nevertheless, I had to persevere.  That was the name of the game, wasn’t it?  

 Once the workday was finally done, I was free to put my feet up.  Something about the café after closing seemed oddly peaceful.  Especially after the day we had.  I had never seen this place so packed in my three years of working here.  amazing what kind of people tractor shows attracted here.  and how many.  Honestly. If they’ve seen one tractor, they’ve seen them all.  There’s nothing new about them.  four wheels, a pain in the ass to drive around, either red or green.  Yippee!  Sounds so exciting!  I hated living in a farm town.

 “Well,” Julian sat with me, “Am I taking you home and sticking around or am I coming over later?”

 “Give me half an hour to decompress,” I instructed, “Then, come over.  Besides, I left my makeup case at your house anyway.  I need that back.”

 “Alright then,” he nodded, “Did you do that on purpose?”

 “I wasn’t bringing that with me.”

 “Fair enough,” Julian allowed, “Come on.  Let’s get you home.”

 And just like that, my day started with cuddling with Julian only to give me a nosebleed.  That seemed weirdly fitting.  Was I going to say it?  I didn’t want to, but it may be time.  No.  Not now. I’m not.  There’s no way…