#the text and the font really hit it home

[romanticandupsetting]

part three of reader who secretly wants to disappear

part one, two

after a long night of patrol, hawks couldn't be bothered to fly all the way to his office, write a report, and come back home to sleep and shower so he flew to the most familiar balcony in the world.

yours.

at 7:06 in the morning, he wakes up on your sofa due to the sun hitting him.

he swears, one day, he'll get you curtains.

to his surprise, you're already awake and lying down with your back flat on the carpet. your arms are outstretched and holding up a white book with large text and a font that looks similar to old american newspaper headlines.

'how to escape life in 278 ways'

"what an ominous title," he says.

you flip a page.

"it's interesting," you reply.

he hums and watches you read the book. he leans his elbow on the sofa and rests the side of his head on his palm.

"what method are you on?"

a light pause. "27. retire early and spend all your money on the things you like." you continue reading, your eyes move from left to right. "oh, it says to first buy a house in a secluded area before doing method 27."

you're not really trying to hide it, huh?

hawks asked you where you bought it. you said you saw it on a bench when you were at Jimbocho because you fell asleep in the train.

"it's fate, no?" you say.

he likes to disagree.

he wants you to stay here. with him. with your hero friends. with everyone who loves you.

[turcott3]

23

mason mctavish x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, alcohol, irresponsible decision making l o l, smut (oral male receiving, unprotected sex wrap it before you tap it ladies and gents), mentions of pregnancy :) DAD MASON!!!

master list

-

you watched as mason sat awkwardly as the restaurant staff sang him happy birthday, earning a short laugh and shake of his head at the end.

“what are you embarrassed?” you tease.

“yes. now drink up that marg dani bought you.”

“yes sir.” you said already pretty buzzed from the few sips you already took of the strong drink. as the dinner continued you only got drunker, and sitting next to your best friend, dani terry, you have waited a while to hear some of the things she wanted to do when she first became a wag.

“you know, i was really tempted to like do some crazy things when i first got together with troy.” she whispers in your ear.

“i need ideas, im not new but im young so im crazy right?”

“oh of course.” she giggles, “i always wanted to get his number tattooed on my ass cheek but i always chickened out.”

“oh my god. i’m so doing that. will you come with me for moral support?”

“oh of course i will.”

“what are you guys talking about?” trevor speaks up butting in.

“nunya.” you scoff at him and he giggles knowing you were only joking.

“tomorrow? 1:30?”

“sounds good to me, send me whatever address and i’ll be there.” she laughs at you. you don’t know what you’re gonna tell mason but you know it won’t be that you’re going to a tattoo shop to get his number tattooed in permanent ink on your ass cheek. you get home about an hour later, it’s only 9:30 and you’re piss drunk.

“come on, let’s get you ready for bed.” he says and you feel all the emotions.

“i’m sorry i ruined your dinner, im so drunk. i’m sorry mason. please don’t be upset.” you blabber.

“i’m not upset at you.” he laughs, helping you remove your clothes and changing into your pajamas.

“i feel like you are though.”

“do i look mad y/n?” he looks up at you with caring eyes.

“no.” you admit and he kisses you on the head.

“see you’re fine, now let’s brush your teeth and get tucked in okay?” he asks offering his help which you accepted. he assisted you in taking out your contacts and brushing your teeth. once he stripped down to only boxers, he brings you over to the bed and tells you to take the tylenol he left on the nightstand before he could tuck you in. you did as you were told and laid down in bed, wrapped up in his arms.

the following morning you wake up feeling okay, given you had taken the tylenol before bed.

“good morning sleepy.” mason laughs lightly and kisses you on top of the head.

“good morning.” you say, rolling off of him and unplugging your phone and checking the time and for texts.

dani: still on for 1:30?

you: yep, getting up now.

you replied to her and stood up walking into the bathroom.

“hey mase?”

“yeah.”

“i’m going to lunch with dani, im leaving in thirty minutes.”

“okay.” he simply replies as you quickly shower and eat a snack. once you’re ready, you put on your watch and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“i’ll text you when im on the way back.”

“okay, have fun babe be safe.” he smiles as you exit the apartment. you and dani both arrive to your destination at the same time. you step out of the car, realization hitting you. this was too good.

“are you nervous?” she asks as she opens the door for you.

“no, i’m excited. his birthday is tomorrow so i’m excited to show him.”

“it’s gonna be gold.” she laughs as you sign in and show the artist what font you want to use.

“are you sure you want this on your ass cheek?” the artist laughs.

“yes, blame her for the idea.” you say pointing at dani as she raises her hands up on defense.

“at least it’s original and somewhat romantic.” the artist says as you lay down on your stomach, ass completely out. she places the stencil on the right side and in the perfect spot. she shows you a picture before giving her the go ahead to begin. the pain was like that of a cat scratch. a few short minutes later the artist wipes away the excess ink and places second skin on it. you stand up to look in the mirror and smile.

“that is amazing.” you laugh turning back to her.

“you don’t have to keep that second skin on after tonight since you said his birthday is tomorrow, it should be fine.” she says, removing her gloves and cleaning the area.

“perfect.” you smile. once she’s done she rings you up to pay and you both walk out of the shop.

“thank you for coming with me, this was a true bonding experience.” you say hugging dani as you walked to our cars.

“of course anytime, ill see you next game?”

“sure will.” you smile getting into your car and texting him to say that you’re on the way back.

“wow i cannot believe i have masons number tattooed on my ass.” you say to yourself as you pull out of the parking lot. once you arrive back at home, you see mason on the couch with his ps5 controller and a bowl of cereal.

“hey baby, how was lunch?” he asks you.

“oh it was great. what have you been up to?” you ask sitting next to him on the couch.

“just been playing my game. and eating cereal.” he laughs.

“sounds like we’re having efficient days today, i’m gonna go put my pajamas back on.” you say getting up and he smacks my ass lightly, which is something he loved to do. once you change back into your pajamas, you join mason on the couch, cuddling to his side as he picks a movie for the two of you to watch.

“you’re gonna be 21 in like 8 hours mase, how do you feel?”

“like i’m getting old because you’re still 20.” he giggles which earns a smack on his arm.

“oh whatever.” you say shoving him as he smiles, returning back to the movie.

“i got you something for your birthday.” you confess after about 20 minutes, barely being able to keep it a secret.

“baby you didn’t have to get me anything.” he says pausing the movie and turning to you.

“well i did. i wanted to.” you say knowing he hates when you spend money on him.

“you know i don’t want you spending money on me.”

“you’ll like it trust me.” you smirk kissing him on the cheek before grabbing his cereal bowl and taking it to the kitchen.

“the only thing i want for my birthday is you, in our bed, after midnight.” he says walking up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin in the crook of your neck.

“oh trust me, that’s a guarantee.” you say as he trails light kisses from your neck to your shoulder.

“good.” he smiles, squeezing your waist one last time before backing away and exiting the kitchen. as it got later, and the sun hung lower and lower, you spent the majority of your day on the couch watching his favorite movies.

“only two more hours.” you say smushing his face and kissing him on the cheek which earns a light giggle.

“can’t wait.” he smiles pulling you onto his lap where you make myself comfortable.

“it’s honestly nice spending my birthday only with you. i value our alone time more than you’ll ever know.” he says placing small kisses on your jaw.

“me too,” you say grabbing his face with your hand and placing a loving kiss on his lips. over the course of the last few months, he’s become way more comfortable with physical touch and affection as well as improving his use of words of affirmation and making sure you know you’re loved. night and day difference.

“you’ve changed so much since i met you mason.”

“is that good or bad?”

“good, you’ve become the most loving person i’ve ever known. night and day difference from the day we met.” you laugh as he hugs me closer.

“i needed you in my life clearly.” he laughs and his words make your heart flutter.

“just the same way i needed you.” you smile at him and he kisses you, standing up from his lap. the idea of sitting through the time remaining before midnight was practical torture. you snuck past a focused mason and quietly shut the bedroom door, changing into your newest black set you bought and putting your pajamas back on over it. opening the door quietly again, you walk into the living room and join him on the couch.

“fucking hell.” he yells losing the game.

“lose?” you ask.

“for the fiftieth time yes.”

“oh no i’m sorry.” you giggle a little bit as he turns off the console and beckons you over to him.

“cmere.” he says pulling you back onto his lap.

“so what’s my handsome about to be 21 year old have in mind for us tonight?” you ask brushing his curls out of his face with your fingers.

“oh we’re makin loveeeeeee baby.” he says shoving his nose in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses all over the area which sends chills down your spine.

“it’s 11:30.” you say wrapping my arms around him.

“i’m gonna stare at the clock till it hits 11:59 so i can carry you in our room and lock the door.” he says smirking against your cheek as he kisses it.

“you’re like a teddy bear mase.”

“only for you, everyone else can fuck off.” he says and you laugh together.

“yes everyone else can fuck off.” you laugh hugging him closer to you as you drifted into a comfortable silence, listening to his heart beat rhythmically against his chest soothed your nerves. you must’ve drifted off to sleep because you gained consciousness as you was lifted up off the couch and he adjusted you.

“did i fall asleep?”

“yes but it’s ok, i’m taking you to our bed.”

“no no it’s ok i’m up, i could hear your heartbeat and it put me to sleep.” you blush in embarrassment.

“you’re so adorable.” he says carrying you into your shared bedroom and setting you down on the bed. you look over at the alarm clock and see the time.

11:59.

he shuts the door and clicks the lock. you stare at the clock as it changes.

“happy birthday baby.” you say walking over and kissing him deeply.

“thank you sweet girl.” he says running his hands down your body.

“are you ready for your gift?”

“yes?” he questions as we begin to get undressed.

“okay sit down.” you say once he’s stripped down to his underwear.

“okay?” he does hesitantly. you pull off my shorts as the last piece and do a full turn.

“what am i looking for other than the fact that you’re wearing a new set?” he says and you turn around so he can examine my ass.

“y/n.” he says and you turn back around.

“mason.” you say.

“you did not get my number tattooed on your ass.” he says.

“oh i did.”

“god you’re so hot.” he says standing up and grabbing your face, smashing your lips together. his hands find their way to your ass and yours around the back of his neck.

“do you like it?” you say pulling away and grabbing his hand, brushing it over the tattoo.

“i love it.” he says smacking your ass firmly and picking you up and placing you on the bed. you remove the remainder of your clothing and get straight to business, he stands at the foot of your bed as you stroke his dick, his tip already leaking as he yearns for your touch. your tongue makes contact w his tip, circling it numerous times before taking his whole length into you mouth.

“oh fuck.” he says gathering your hair in his hand. you somehow take him all the way in your mouth and hollow out your cheeks, pulling him out with a popping noise to this time focus on his sensitive tip.

“my god baby you’re so perfect for me.” he says as you run your tongue down the length of his dick before taking it all back into your mouth. bobbing my head and working with your hands, you felt his cock twitch under your touch before spilling into your mouth. you swallow every drop and then let him go, opening your mouth to show you swallowed it all.

“that’s my good girl.” he says grabbing your face with one hand and bringing your lips up to his desparately.

“can i take you from behind?” he says pulling away earning a nod from you.

“only if you promise i can ride after.” you say holding out my pinky which he gladly accepts.

“gladly. i wanna see your gorgeous face while you take me.” he smirks kissing you again before getting into your position.

“wow i could get used to this.” he says placing his hand on your ass, running his thumb lightly over the raised skin of the fresh tattoo.

“good because it’s gonna be there forever.” i giggle before he pushes his dick into you unexpectedly.

“oh fuck.” you moan out as he instantly hits your cervix.

“you like that?”

“fuck yes i do.”

“good.” he says before retracting his hips and slamming back into you, pricking your eyes with euphoric tears. he continues this pattern leaving you screaming and moaning like crazy. sex with mason had always been good but it seems like you’ve motivated him.

“that’s my good girl right there.” he says continuing to pound his thick cock into you at a nearly unbearable pace.

“oh my fucking god mason i’m gonna come.” you say, mascara running and starting to drip on the sheets.

“let go baby, come for me.” he says as an orgasm tears through your body like a freshly sharpened knife, pulling a loud moan from your throat. he slows down his pace allowing you to come down from your high and he pulls out, continuing to jerk himself off.

“oh baby your mascara.” he says laughing before letting go and grabbing a tissue, wiping the running makeup off your face gently.

“there’s my beautiful girl.” he says tossing the tissue on the floor and kissing you lovingly. he lays down with his head propped up on two pillows. he helps me as i position myself over him and sink myself onto him earning a grunt.

“you’re so god damn gorgeous.” he says palming your tits as you lean over to attach your lips again. his kiss is like a drug and you’re addicted. you move up and down at a decent pace, placing your hands on his abs, nails slightly digging into his skin.

“oh yeah right there.” you say circling your hips around on him while locking eyes with him as he sits up and connects your lips once again as you continued.

“that feels so fucking good.” he says as you continue before bringing yourself up and down again.

“god you’re gonna make me come again. you fuck me so good mase.” you say leaning over and kissing him, feeling your abdomen tighten at the thought of of another climax.

“oh fuck fuck fuck. me too. oh fuck.” he says moments before spilling his warm seed into you as your walls clenched around him. you slowed down, not once losing touch. he stayed in you while you kissed again and cuddled to his chest, staying for a good while.

“okay baby let’s get showered.” he says pulling out of you and carrying you into the bathroom.

-

*few weeks later*

“mason.” you a ay with a trembling hand.

“what, what is it?” he says flinging the door open.

“it’s positive.” you say with confusing tears brimming your eyes.

“oh my god.” he says with an unreadable expression that soon grew into a smile which spread onto you. you were so scared of how he would react.

“y/n we’re gonna be parents?”

“yes we are mason.”

“i wouldn’t want anyone else to be the mother of my kids, i love you so much.”

“i was so scared of what you’d say. i love you mase.” you reply before he kisses you hastily.

“i’m so scared mason.” you say as he wraps his arms around you.

“me too, but we’re in this together, we’re gonna be okay baby. our baby is gonna have the best uncles to grow up with and the best mommy to raise her.”

“awe mase….. wait why’d you say her?”

“i just feel like it’s gonna be a girl.” he shrugs and giggles.

“well i hope it is too.” you smile and he takes the test from your hand, placing it on the counter and bringing you into the bedroom.

-

june 2027

you arrived at the beach close to your home and set up all of your gear. mason leans down to place little juniper on the towel so you can put sunscreen on her little pale face. her bright blue eyes pierced your heart as she smiled bright at you.

“beach.” she says looking around at all the people.

“yeah beach.” you say as you open up the sunscreen and work some into her face.

“where’s daddy?” she asks in her sweet voice.

“i’m right here juni.” he says and she whips her head around and smiles.

“hi daddy.”

“hi baby.” he says kissing her on the head before placing her little purple ducks sun hat on.

“shit, mason im gonna go rinse my cup. it has sand all over it. watch juni.” you say standing up and grabbing your cup. you turn to walk away before you hear her speak up.

“mommy what’s that on your butt?” she asks and you freeze. you turn around slowly and make eye contact with mason and all he does is laugh and shake his head.

“it’s mommy’s tattoo.” you a ay squatting down to her level.

“why is it on your butt?” she asks and you look at him again and his face is burning red from laughter and you pause not knowing what to say.

“i’ll tell you in about 15 years how about that?” you say patting her on the head before you walk off to the ocean earning a solid chuckle from mason. you return back to your spot after a few minutes of relaxing on the shore to see mason fast asleep with juniper sleeping on his chest. you could’ve cried at the sweet sight. this is your family and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

[cinnamooniee]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬 [part 2]

Characters : college student jungkook x college student fem reader

Genre : Angst but comfort later on, fluff??

Warnings : Mentions of alcohol.

read part one <3

The sight of his name, even in that small font, made your stomach twist all over again. You hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Part of you wanted to answer, to hear what he had to say, to let him try to explain himself—or maybe even apologize. But the other part of you, the part that was exhausted, that was hurting, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

With a shaky breath, you silenced the call, letting it ring out as you stared out of the window. The quiet hum of the car and the rhythmic flicker of streetlights through the window felt soothing, like a balm over the jagged edges of your heartache.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was a text.

Jungkook: Y/N, please pick up. We need to talk.

You felt a fresh wave of frustration as you read his message. The nerve he had to act like he cared now, after all those hurtful things he’d said. All you’d wanted was to understand, to find some kind of way back to the closeness you once shared. But instead, he’d pushed you away, dismissed your feelings, and thrown blame at you as if you were the one at fault.

Another text buzzed through, then another.

Jungkook: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say those things.

Jungkook: Can we just talk? I need to explain.

Your phone continued buzzing, message after message lighting up the screen. Each one made you grip your seatbelt a little tighter, fighting the urge to respond. You couldn’t—at least not right now. The words wouldn’t come, not when everything felt so tangled and raw inside.

Finally, there was a pause, a minute or two of silence. You exhaled, trying to ground yourself in that temporary calm. But the quiet didn’t last long.

Maybe you’re asleep already… I’m sorry for bothering you so late.

A pang hit you as you read that line. Did he really think you could just sleep after everything? He knew you better than that—at least, you thought he did. But maybe you’d been wrong all along.

Another text followed, slower, like he was second-guessing himself.

I just hope you got home safe.

You swallowed, feeling an ache settle in. He was probably picturing you curled up in bed, phone on silent, dozing off without a second thought. But here you were, staring at his words in the dim glow of your screen, unable to find peace in any of it.

Ok. I’ll check in tomorrow then, sleep well, Y/N.

The last message hung there, a final thread connecting the two of you, but it felt frayed—worn thin by all the words left unsaid, all the pieces you didn’t know how to put back together.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The next morning, you roll over to see your phone blinking with unread messages. You try to ignore it, but a knot of guilt tightens in your chest, knowing exactly who it’s from.

You can’t keep avoiding him forever. The thought pops up, uninvited, with a mix of dread and determination. It feels like every time you ignore him, it only makes things worse.

With a sigh, you open the texts. His messages are there, unreadable yet loud on the screen—probably asking if you got home safely, wondering why you didn’t reply. A wave of conflicted emotions rolls over you; you want to explain, but part of you is also tempted to stay hidden.

After a long minute of hesitation, you finally type a reply:

"I was tired last night."

Then you erase it.

"I got home fine, thanks."

Delete.

"Thanks for checking in on me."

Another delete.

With a frustrated sigh, you run a hand through your hair, feeling ridiculous for spending so long trying to find the perfect words. You don’t owe him an explanation; there’s no need to apologize or over-explain.

Finally, you settle on a message:

"I got home safe."

Plain, simple. It’s just enough to let him know you’re okay without giving away too much. You hit send before you can change your mind, then set your phone down, wondering if this will finally ease the tension… or make things even harder.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The morning drags on, and you keep glancing at your phone, half-expecting a response from Jungkook. But the silence only amplifies your nerves. Just as you’re about to drown yourself in the endless sea of homework, your phone buzzes, and it’s him.

"Hey, can I come over?"

Your heart races at the thought of him showing up, and you hesitate, staring at the screen. You want to tell him no, to reinforce the distance, but the words just won’t come. Instead, you let it go unanswered, hoping he’ll take the hint and change his mind.

Two hours pass, and just as you start to relax, a sudden knock on your door jolts you from your thoughts. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice comes through, slightly muffled but unmistakable. “I brought you something.”

Your stomach sinks, surprised that he actually came over. You take a deep breath and make your way to the door, opening it just a crack. Jungkook stands there, looking a bit disheveled, holding a small bouquet of flowers that looks like it came from the local convenience store—a few wilted blooms tied together with a fraying ribbon.

“I, uh… I got these for you,” he says, awkwardly holding them out like a peace offering. “I didn’t want to come empty-handed. Can I come in?”

A wave of frustration crashes over you. He really thinks this is okay? After last night, he just shows up with cheap flowers? “Why do you think that’s going to change anything?” you snap, your anger bubbling to the surface. “You yelled at me and acted like it was no big deal . What do you mean? We had a fight and you dumped me--maybe?! And now you're just...

You don't even have the words to explain your frustration right now.

His eyes widen in surprise, and you can see the realization dawning on him, but you don’t give him a chance to respond. “Oh, and let’s not forget how you flirted with that girl right in front of me! And that you went right back to it after we fought."

He looks taken aback, mouth opening slightly as if to respond, but you cut him off once more. “I don’t even know what you want from me! You show up here like nothing happened. Do you think some wilting flowers are going to fix this?”

His expression shifts from surprise to guilt, and you can see he’s struggling for the right words. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, Y/N. I just wanted to talk.”

“Talk?” You scoff, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “What’s there to talk about? You decided to bail when things got tough, and now you’re here with a lame excuse for an apology?”

“I didn’t bail! I just…” He runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “I thought maybe if I came over, we could sort things out. I’m sorry for how I acted. I care about you, okay? I just didn’t know how to handle it.”

You roll your eyes, your heart racing with anger. “Care? If you really cared, you wouldn’t have treated me like that. You think I can just forget that?”

Jungkook’s shoulders slump, and he looks down at the flowers in his hands, the weight of your words clearly hitting him. “I know I messed up. I just thought—”

“Thought what? That this would all be okay just because you showed up with stupid flowers? You’re delusional,” you cut in. “I can’t keep avoiding you, but I’m not just going to pretend like everything’s fine!”

He looks hurt, his eyes searching yours for some sign of understanding. “I just wanted to fix things. I thought you’d want to talk about it too.”

You take a step back, feeling overwhelmed by everything—your anger, your confusion, the weight of his gaze. “I’m busy, Jungkook. Just… just go.”

Please,” he finally says, his voice quiet but firm. “I just want to talk to you. I’m not leaving until we sort this out.”

“What do you want me to say?” you shoot back, your frustration boiling over. “You come here with flowers like that fixes everything, and you expect me to just let you in? You really think I’m going to be okay after last night?”

“I know I messed up!” he replies, his frustration matching yours. “But I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t realize how it would come across, and I want to explain myself. Can we at least talk about what happened?”

You stare at him, the determination in his eyes making it hard to look away. As much as you want to slam the door in his face, a part of you is curious—maybe even hopeful. But that hope is buried deep under layers of anger and confusion.

“I’m not interested in hearing excuses,” you finally say, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’ve already made it clear how you feel.”

“I know,” he admits, his voice dropping. “And I get why you’re angry. But please, just give me a chance to explain. I don’t want to lose you over this.”

You feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you—anger, hurt, and a hint of the connection you’ve had with him. You want to scream at him, to tell him to leave, but another part of you just wants to hear what he has to say.

“Fine,” you say finally, your voice low. “But you better not waste my time.”

As you step back and open the door wider, Jungkook enters, his gaze focused on you as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed. He looks around your room, a hint of nervousness in his posture.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, his voice softer now. “I just… I messed up, and I’m trying to fix it. I didn’t mean to flirt with that girl; it was stupid, and I didn’t think about how it would affect you. I get that it made you feel uncomfortable, and I should have been more aware. You’re the only one I want to be with.”

You hold his gaze, searching for sincerity in his eyes. “You don’t get to just play around with my feelings, Jungkook. You can’t expect me to just forget everything because you’re suddenly apologetic.”

“I know, I know,” he replies, desperation creeping into his voice. “But I’m here now. I want to make things right. Just tell me what I need to do. I’ll do anything.”

You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to soften. “You don’t get it. It’s not about flowers or grand gestures. It’s about respect and understanding. If you want to be with me, you need to start acting like it.”

“I will. I promise,” he says, leaning forward, his sincerity palpable. “I care about you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that.”

You stare at him, the walls around your heart feeling like they’re starting to crack just a little. But the anger still simmers beneath the surface. “Just know that I’m not going to make it easy for you.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he replies, a small smile breaking through the tension. “Just let me try.”

You give him a reluctant look, still wary, maybe—just maybe—this could be a step toward something better..? Maybe he meant it. Maybe he truly was sorry.

As the tension hangs heavy in the air, Jungkook shifts slightly, a mixture of determination and vulnerability in his expression. You can see the sincerity in his eyes, and it stirs something within you—an urge to let go of the anger, if only for a moment.

He leans closer, and without thinking, you hold your breath, your heart racing as he reaches out. His fingers graze your arm softly, and it sends a jolt of electricity through you. Then, in a surprising yet gentle motion, he cups your face, tilting it toward him.

“I’m really sorry,” he whispers, his voice barely above a murmur. “For everything. Last night was a mess, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

Before you can respond, his lips brush against yours—soft and hesitant at first, as if he’s testing the waters. The kiss is sweet, laced with an apology that goes deeper than words. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a fleeting moment, the anger dissipates, replaced by a wave of emotions you thought were buried.

He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, breathing heavily. “I swear, nothing happened with that girl. It was all just… nothing. I don’t want anyone else but you, Y/N. You mean too much to me.”

Your heart flutters at his words, and he continues, his voice earnest. “You’re amazing. You’re smart, beautiful, and so much more than I deserve. I take back every single thing I said last night. I was an idiot. I was half drunk, and we had been fighting for weeks before that- and I just didn’t know how to handle it."

You look into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you see is raw honesty. “I messed up,” he admits, his expression vulnerable. “But I want to make it right. I want to show you that I care.”

The sincerity in his voice tugs at your heart, and you find yourself softening. “It’s just hard for me to trust you right now,” you confess, your voice wavering slightly.

“I get it,” he replies, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “But I’ll prove it to you. I’m here, and I want to be with you. Just give me a chance.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze. In that moment, everything else fades away, and it’s just the two of you—raw, real, and vulnerable. You nod slowly, your heart racing as the anger you held onto begins to melt away, replaced by something warm and hopeful.

“Okay,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just… show me.”

Jungkook’s expression brightens, relief washing over him as he leans in once more, capturing your lips with his in another soft kiss. This time, it feels different—deeper, more meaningful, as if it’s sealing a promise between you.

As you pull away, you can’t help but smile a little, the tension easing between you. “You better keep that promise,” you tease lightly, though your heart still flutters at the warmth of his presence.

“I will,” he assures you, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and sincerity. "I love you Y/N, I really do"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

tags<3 : @thelittlecatonthecake

[moralesmilesanhourlibrary]

sunflower

summary: you begin to recieve flowers from an anonymous source. originally posted: sept. 22, 2019 (wtf I was posting fics damn near every day)

You open your locker to pack up for the day and go home, and there they are.

Sunflowers.

Yesterday it was roses, last week it was daisies. It was a sweet gesture, until you found a bouquet of sunflowers on your desk with your name on the tag. This person was in your class, and knew where your desk was, and who YOU were. Curiosity peaked, you meet up at Miles and Ganke’s dorm to discuss.

“So now I have like, 3 bouquets of flowers and petals all over my locker and I really need to know who it is-”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down [Y/N],” Ganke interrupted. “Are you saying you have a secret admirer?” You nodded, frantically. You’d only met Miles and Ganke the previous week, but, for some reason, you felt you could tell them a whole lot.

“I need you to help narrow down who could be giving me all these damn plants, because I’m running out of space in my vase at home,” you frowned. Miles smiles to himself at the thought of you taking the flowers home and caring for them. “They’re obviously in my homeroom, since they know where my desk is at, right? Miles, who’s in our homeroom?”

Startled out of his thoughts, Miles finally speaks after having been silent this entire time.

“Uh, there’s me and you, Andre, Miranda, and… That’s all I know.”

Sighing in frustration, you plop down on Ganke’s bed next to where Miles sat.

Impishly elbowing your arm, Miles, asks, “Is there anyone you want it to be?” Not catching onto the joke, you actually answer. “Hmm. I hope whoever it is is like, really sweet and artistic. I like artsy types.” Miles feels a glimmer of hope at that. “You’re mad corny,” he laughs.

The next day, you find more sunflowers and daisies in the holes of your locker, but there was something else there, too.

Stuck to one of the bigger sunflowers was a baby-blue sticky note, your name written in a bubbly font and decorated with neon patterns. Cute.

Miles opened his locker next to yours.

“More flowers?” he asked. You smiled and showed him the sticky note. “Look, they drew this, too! Isn’t that cute?” Miles smirks a little, though you don’t know why.

—

It was a Friday, so you texted Miles that you were coming over to hang out. Before you even ring the doorbell, he opens the door to let you in, beaming.

“Hey [Y/N], pizza’s here already. Don’t just stand there, now!” After greeting his parents, you both head to Miles’ room with the box of pizza. Of course, his Bluetooth speaker was blasting Swae Lee. You still had the sticky note in-hand as you sat on his bed, taking a slice of pizza.

“You good, Gonzalo? You been mad quiet lately.” Snapping out of his gaze at the mention of his middle name, Miles replies, “I’m fine, I’m fine. No need to use my government name.” Looking up, you notice a pop of color on Miles’ desk. It was piled with sketchbooks containing elaborate designs that looked like they belonged on a mural.

“Those are nice,” you tell him, pointing at the pile of drawings. “Thanks, made em myself, you know.” Miles internally facepalms himself. They’re on your desk, of course she knows they’re yours!

You get up from the bed to get a closer look at Miles’ designs. The circular lettering and neon color palette look… familiar. Then you take the sticky note out of your back pocket. A sheepish grin creeps onto your face as everything starts to make sense.

“Miles, you been giving me all those flowers?” Smiling playfully, he gives you a big shrug that said, ‘I’ve been caught, so yeah.’ You suck your teeth in feigned annoyance and hit Miles with a pillow. You both descend into uproarious laughter as you continue hitting him. “I really hate you, bro!”

“What, I’m the artsy type!” Miles jokingly exclaims, earning him another smack with the pillow. The two of you flop back down on his bed, exhausted from all the laughing.

“Did you buy all those flowers yourself?” you finally ask. Miles replies, “Yeah, man! 20 bucks each,” and you snort a little.

“All that for a prank-?”

“It wasn’t a prank.” Miles’ tone is somber, now. He isn’t grinning anymore. You don’t understand.

“What does that mean,” you prod further. He turns his head to look you directly in the eye. “Well… I kinda like you. Just a little. So I got you flowers.” You continue staring at him, at which he says, “…sorry?” You sit up, and so does Miles.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you tell him as you pull him into a suffocating hug. “Wanna go out sometime?”

Miles chokes out a muffled, “Yes!”

[solar-halos]

annie cresta week. day #3 - free space

a series of assignments annie has (more or less) completed over her academic journey, complete with criticisms from her teachers (in bold font) and a blooming sense of injustice for the world she lives in (in regular font).

disclaimer: im not a teacher, so take all the notes they leave her with a grain of salt.

If I was the Mayor!

[Mrs. Calligan’s first grade class was asked to put together a list of tasks they’d complete as District 4’s future mayor. The followin text is an individual assessment of a student named Annie Cresta. Earlier entries have been edited for clarity.] 

NAME: Annie Cresta

CLASS: Mrs. Calligan

DATE: December 21 

Good effort!

If I was the mayor…

I would let everyone eat candies for breakfast. (Only candies? What about cavities?)

If I was the mayor…

Everything would be $1. 

If I was the mayor…

The beaches would be open forever. (I love the beach!)

If I was the mayor…

We’d have good tesserae. My sister hates sardines. 

If I was the mayor…

My sister wouldn’t get reaped. (Everyone your sister’s age has to be in the reaping. Mayors need to be fair.)

NOTES FOR ANNIE CRESTA:

Very thoughtful!

Every task is nice and different!

Need to think of something new for the end. Even mayors need to follow the rules!

NOTES FOR MOM AND DAD:

First assignment she’s done cooperatively and enthusiastically

More fiscally-driven than her peers. I just wanted to bring that to your attention. 

Potentially dangerous attitude about the Hunger Games. Keep an eye on her at home—I’ll do the same over here. 

-

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What is a Mayor?

Use resources from the library to research the varying responsibilities of District 4’s mayor. In 5-7 sentences, explain what you have learned and come up with your own policies for the district. Outstanding responses will be submitted to the mayor himself to review. 

NAME: Annie Cresta

CLASS: Mr. Mar, year 5

DATE: November 6

ATTEMPT #1

The mayor does not really do much like the president. The president has more power because he can tell everyone what to do, but the mayor can’t even tell people in the district what to do because no one really listens to him anyway. (? District laws are still laws. Everyone should be listening to the mayor.) Something the president can do that the mayor can’t is make taxes. (This assignment is about the mayor—not the president.) Taxes are extra money you spend on things like candy and rope. Even if the mayor said that he didn’t want taxes anymore he can’t do that because he doesn’t have any power. If I was the mayor, I would make it so I had more power. In conclusion, I would fix things better than the president, like taxes and tesserae, which are gross. 

NOTES

Read the directions again very carefully and come up with a new topic sentence. This assignment is about the mayor.

the mayor does not control taxes, but he still tells people to do them. Focus on that in your next draft

there needs to be a better balance between what you found in your research and what your policies are

It is not your job to fix things. Read the directions again very carefully and come up with a new conclusion. 

do not include new ideas like tesserae in your conclusion. I know you don’t like sardines, but the mayor has no control over that. 

please give the note I stapled to this paper to your parents. I expect to hear a response from them soon.

ATTEMPT #2

The mayor does not have much power. (Really? You couldn’t find any books in the library about that?) He can’t create taxes, but he has to tell people to do them. He also has no control over tesserae. (Tesserae and taxes are very different. Erase this sentence.) All he does is look at the rules and tell people in District 4 to follow them. He has Peacekeepers that help him and my dad says that they will hit people with their batons when they get mad. In conclusion, if I was the mayor, I would make it so I had more power to help people. 

NOTES

not enough complex sentences. Please look at the worksheet we did in class to help you write your next draft.

This paragraph should only be about taxes. Not tesserae. Please take that out of your next draft, too.

explain what taxes are. You did a good job doing that in your first draft, but it’s missing here. 

do not copy the notes I wrote on your last draft. I’m checking.

the mayor does help people. Eirene wrote in her paper how he took an injured baby bird she found to the vet. Do you have any stories like that you would like to share?

Peacekeepers keep us safe. Please give the note I stapled to this paper to your parents. I need a response from them ASAP.

ATTEMPT #3

The mayor helps people he wants to help. He helped my friend Eirene with a bird we found on the street because a Peacekeeper stepped on it, but he never helps me. (Never? Please go read the books at the library again for some more help.) Peacekeepers get paid with taxes instead of money so the mayor helps them. He also helped my friend Eirene because Jackie begged him to so he wouldn’t have even helped her if his son didn’t ask. (How do you know? Have you ever asked Jackie for help?)  Also, tesserae and taxes are related because the people who give out tesserae are paid in taxes like Peacekeepers. The president controls taxes which relates to this assignment because the mayor has to listen to him, so if I were the mayor I would ask the president for more taxes. Then, instead of people needing tesserae, they could just be paid in taxes. (That is not how taxes work. I already told you to stop talking about tesserae—I’m not going to tell you again.) In conclusion, I would be a better mayor because I would help people with taxes. 

NOTES:

maybe taxes are too complicated for you. Please see me for more help on this topic

this is not an argumentative essay. You need to explain what you’ve read to me

this assignment also isn’t asking you to explain why you’d be a better mayor. Please read the directions for this assignment again very carefully and start a new draft

I do not want to hear about tesserae again. In your first draft, you wanted better tesserae. Now, you don’t want any tesserae? That doesn’t make sense. Please see me for more help on this topic

the mayor will be visiting us next week to help us pick up trash on the beach. Maybe then you will finally have something nice to say

please give the note I stapled to this paper to your parents. I will know if you don’t

ATTEMPT #4

I’m not doing another one of these stupid assignments. No one listens to me, not you OR the mayor, because me and my friends were the only people picking up trash and Mayor Sparrow was just giving Jackie piggyback rides. He doesn’t even care about the beach or taxes or tesserae, so I don’t care about this assignment. And I don’t care if I get an F. None of my friends had to write so many drafts. I really, really, REALLY hate you.

COMMENTS

final grade: incomplete

please see me after class. I have also attached another note for your parents. You know what to do with it by now

-

-

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Municipal Government: The Mayor

Outline a proposal that most quickly and efficiently boosts District Four’s productivity. Responses should be thoughtful, insightful, and original. Be prepared to share your answers on November 21 in the auditorium. Dress professionally.

NOTES:

final grade: D.

could not handle criticism from peers without crying (They made fun of the hair on my arms! Not my proposal!)

could not answer any of the questions, ran off in the middle of an inquiry about gathering funds for her proposal (They were not asking a question about a proposal—they made a “joke” about me getting the funds from being a prostitute when I grow up.)

punched Mr. Peters in the face for voicing a valid concern.He called my dad a dolphin fucker. He had to receive medical attention. The school nurse gave him an ice pack

yelled at Ms. Reif for raising a counterargument. She said I was too poor to be alive. 

overall, her stage presence was as chaotic and unorthodox as her proposal to “distribute wealth among District 4’s population in order to minimize the socioeconomic playing field.”

-

-

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FINAL EXAM: In 1200 words minimum, summarize your academic journey and how it has helped you enhance your ability to serve your district. 

NAME: Annie Cresta

CLASS: Mrs. Flint, year 12

DATE: May 25th

I tracked all my points for this year. I’m graduating anyway. 

So fuck that. And fuck all of you. 

COMMENTS

final grade: pass

Good luck, Annie Cresta. You’ve made it this far, so that has to count for something.

[skolworthy]

Time Knows No Bounds- Part Four

Warnings: None that need apology

Info: When the font is like this, it means Ragnar is speaking in his native tongue. When he is speaking English it will just be italicized. The reader's text is just normal and anyone other than Ragnar or the reader will be in bold.

Spoilers: None, because this is completely my creation (apart from the character/legend of Ragnar Lothbrok and other historical names) it has nothing to really do with the tv series.

Plot: Ragnar, in this series, is unattached to anyone romantically. No Lagertha or Aslaug or any other baby momma's out there. No children. He has met and learned with Athelstan, because that contributes to his ability to speak with the reader. Other than that, he's just a simple gorgeous viking that lives on his farm in Kattegat, dreaming of adventure.

Summary: An unexpected call in to work has left you with a dilemma: do you leave your new found viking friend home alone, or do you take him with you?

-------

Your mouth fell open slightly when Ragnar said what he said and gave that wink and smirk. 'As do you' Those words only made your face burn hotter as you stood there staring at the now closed door. Had...had he seen your naked form? Your face contorted in various ways as you thought to yourself, your hand letting go of the curtain to allow it to fall back into place and your body moving back under the fall of the water once again. Lips pursed, you let the water fall against your shoulder as your thoughts ran with the possibility of Ragnar having gazed upon your nakedness. Whether the thought bothered you...or enthralled you. You did not realize how long you had been thinking about this until the feeling of cold water hit against your shoulder and you gasped, realizing that you had officially used up all the hot water. Great. Sighing, you turned the water off and stood there for a moment, listening for any sounds of the door opening. When nothing came, you pulled back the curtain and reached over toward the towel rack, grabbing a big fluffy pink towel and wrapping it around your body. Then you took a smaller towel and squeezed it around your wet hair until it was just damp and finally you peeked out of the doorway of the bathroom, saw that the coast was clear, and scuttled down the hall to your bedroom, snapping the door shut behind you.

Now dried and dressed, you finished working the tangles out of your hair with your wet brush before opening the door of your room and heading down to Ragnar's room. You reached up with your fist and knocked your knuckles against the door lightly, hearing Ragnar speak for you to come in. When you opened the door, you paused when you were met with the viking standing next to his bed, having just set down a shirt that he had apparently been trying on. There he stood, as he had in the living room earlier, shirtless and absolutely glorious. Before you had done what you could to keep from oogling his bare chest and abdomen, but now as you stood there, it was difficult to tear your eyes away. He regarded you silently as you stood there, knowing that he was aware that you were shamelessly letting your eyes roam from his strong shoulders, down to his chest where soft hair lead all the way down along his defined abs and even further where you finally, had to tear your eyes away and look at something else. Your gaze landed upon the bed that still had some of the clothes upon it, though it looked as if he had put away the majority into the dresser that was against the wall. "Are there any that you do not like?" you finally brought yourself to ask, albeit with a dry throat. He kept looking at you silently, a small smirk at the corner of his lips and then he glanced up and down your own body once, the smirk growing larger, before he turned his head and looked down at the bed. "These." There were not many, but from the looks of it, he had chosen against the shirts and pants that were brighter in color.

He leaned down and picked one up from the bed that was under the one he had just laid down and held it up. "This one...I could not get fastened. The buttons, they are so small and.." "There are so many?" you finished his sentence with a smirk. He gave a sheepish grin. "I was worried I would become angry and tear it apart." Giving a small giggle, you moved forward and took the shirt from his hands and then held it up to where he could slide his arms in. He turned away from you, your eyes locking onto his muscular back, but not only the muscles...all of the scars. There had been faint ones along his chest, shoulders and torso, but the ones on his back were deeper and more prominent. If you had not been convinced that he was a battle hardened viking from the past, the scars he had upon his body proved it. These were sword, axe and arrow scars. Ragnar glanced over his shoulder at you, your hands had lowered slightly while holding the shirt up to where he was not able to slide his arms in easily. "Is something wrong, y/n?" You jumped slightly and looked at him, shaking your head. "Oh, no. Sorry. Just...lost in thought." you said as you then held the shirt up a bit more and he was able to slide his arms into the sleeves and you helped pull it up and over his shoulders. Once he had it up over his shoulders, you gently turned him around and began to help with the buttons, smirking when Ragnar's face contorted in obvious discomfort when you worked on the top button at the collar. Clearly he was not used to clothing tight around his neck.

Once you were finished with the buttons, you reached up with both of your hands to adjust and smooth out the collar, knowing that his eyes were upon you as you did. While you had been standing this close to him, you were able to catch whiffs of his scent. One would expect someone from the past to smell not that great, but Ragnar was proof that this was not the case. He had an earthy smell, woodsy and yet not overbearing. When you took in a longer breath through your nose as you had been working on the buttons, you swore you caught a whiff of seawater as well. Regardless of what the scents were, they were rather intoxicating. Much more so than any modern day cologne. You finished with the collar and then stood there silently a moment before lifting your eyes, almost wishing you hadn't when they met his. His gaze rooted you to the spot, your mind flitting back to when you had stood there staring as he stood in just a pair of jeans beside the bed. Ragnar made no effort to move away from you, instead he simply stared down at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before they glanced down at your lips. This caused your heart to slam against your rib cage and something to stir in your lower stomach. Matters were made worse when your own eyes moved down to his lips as well, only to see him take his bottom lip inward and bite upon it slightly as he continued to look at yours. That stirring sensation grew into a flame and if it had not been for the sound of your phone chiming in your back pocket, you were sure that you would have given those lips of his an open invitation to devour yours.

You both looked at each other, noticing that your faces had slowly gravitated toward each other, then you slowly began to lean back to where you began to take a step away when Ragnar's hand reached forward and took hold of yours, causing you to freeze. You stood there silently as his thumb gently caressed along the tops of your knuckles, though he reluctantly allowed you to pull away when the chiming began on your phone again. Clearing your throat, you reached into your back pocket, pulling out your phone as you turned away, gesturing for Ragnar to look at himself in the mirror with a wave of your free hand. You watched over your shoulder as he did so, then looked down at your unlocked phone screen to see the two messages that were waiting for you. Apparently you were needed at the museum, some kids messed with the Viking exhibit and the staff on duty had no idea how to fix it. You let out a large sigh as you brought your other hand up to your nose and pinched the bridge of it, closing your eyes in annoyance. Just how bad was it that they were calling you in on your day off? Yes, you had been on an excavation earlier today, but that was volunteer work, plus you loved it. A knot formed within your stomach at the thought of the entire exhibit being in disarray, until you heard Ragnar clear his throat and you turned to him. A grin formed on your lips when you saw that he was tugging at his collar with one of his fingers as he looked at you. "How do the men here find this comfortable?" You slid the phone back into your pocket and moved back over to him, reaching up and undoing the top most button. "It takes some getting used to, I'm sure. But the women folk here very much like a man that is dressed to impress." This was no lie, Ragnar looked incredible in a button down shirt and those nice fitting jeans.

"Would they not prefer a man with no clothes?" he asked, most likely on purpose, as he looked down at you again while you stood close. You did your best to hold back the color from rising in your cheeks as you looked up at him, then tilted your head a little to the side and gave a smile. "Of course, but it's much more fun to take our time in getting them out of them." You heard him let out a breath at what you said, but kept your facial expression the same as you then turned and headed to the door. You then turned back to him. "I have to run in to work, it may be a better idea for you to come with me. So you don't burn the place down." you said, giving him a smile and a wink before heading to your room. He moved to the doorway and leaned against it, watching you walk down the hall, your voice raising a little as you disappeared into your room and grabbed what you needed. "You should wear that while we are out, get used to how it feels. I'm sure it'll also draw a lot of attention." You came back out into the hallway, shoving your keys and phone into your small backpack and then putting it over your shoulder and looked at him. "Your hair though..." you reached up with one of your hands and gently used it to turn his face sideways so you could look at the tattoos along his skull, as well as the long braid of dreads that went down his neck. "...I suppose I can come up with an explanation?" There were more questionable hair styles out there these days, right? Ragnar raised his eyebrow at you as you stood there, still with her fingers holding onto his braid, to which you gave a shrug of your shoulders and then backed away.

---

This...this was so much worse than you had imagined. Everything was tossed and torn, thrown almost to an entirely different exhibit. How on God's green earth did this happen? Where was security? How did some kids end up doing such damage? Where the hell had their parents been? Your hands had eventually made their way to your hair, taking fistfuls of it and clenching as you looked at the destruction before you, Ragnar by your side, confused, but also concerned that you were going to tear your lovely hair out. "Fuck..." you said under your breath as your hands finally fell to your sides. The viking ship was almost on its' side, how they had managed to do that, you were not sure. The funeral pyre was...all over the place. The viking mannequins were naked, their clothing thrown all over the place, one article of clothing you found had been torn almost in half. Ragnar moved forward, kneeling down to pick up pieces of a broken arrow that was upon the floor, he looked at them quietly. "Museum. This is a place for items from the past?" he asked as he continued to sift through the broken or dented items upon the floor. "Mm-hmm." you said as you walked over to one of the mannequins that had been knocked over and bent down to pick it back up and returned it to its upright position. "And yet someone has desecrated these items." he said, more of a statement, as he glanced over at you and saw the look upon your face as you went around the area. You didn't answer him, except to give a small nod of confirmation. "I should have brought my axe." he said under his breath angrily, as he looked away from you shaking his head.

As you stood there feeling helpless, Ragnar suddenly pushed himself up from his squatting position and turned to you. He moved closer to you and didn't hesitate to lift his hand up and tuck his fingers under your chin, which caused you to freeze. He tilted your face up to look at his and gave a smile, not a smirk. "Do not fret. I will help you make it right again." You stared up at him silently and then a small smile slowly spread across your lips and you nodded. "Thank you." you said quietly as he then let his hand drop from beneath your chin and he took a step back. "Is the boat in place where it should be?" he asked as he moved to look at it, running his hand along the bow of it as if he found it familiar, which he probably did. "No, it needs to be moved a bit more to the left. How a bunch of children managed to move it at all, is beyond me." you said as you came over to him and stood next to him. "This is a recreation of what archeologists believed viking boats and ships may have looked like, does it look correct?" Ragnar walked along side of it, continuing to run his hand and fingertips along the wood grain of the boat, pausing to inspect little details, notches in the wood, coloration. "It is close. But I fear that Floki, our best boat builder, would not be impressed." He said as he turned to you. "I see. What a shame that it was you and not him that traveled through time, to show us our errors." you said as you looked at him, eyebrow raised. He stared at you for a moment and then that smirk appeared on his lips, growing bigger to reveal some of his white teeth.

"I will push at this end, if you push up near the bow." he said as he moved to the stern of the boat. You went up to the bow and placed your hands against the wood and together you gently and slowly were able to push the boat back into the place you had had it before, thankful that it was on something that made it easier to move. Still, the fact that children were able to move it made you worried. Perhaps you ought to put more weight within the boat, or even anchor it down completely? The latter would probably be the better choice in order to avoid this happening again in the future, plus anchoring would be a decent safety precaution. Once the boat was back in place, the two of you went around the exhibit, picking up pieces of broken pottery and scattered weapons, which were thankfully dull. Ragnar bent down and picked up a long sword, holding the hilt in his open palm, inspecting the detail, then his fingers closed around it and he glanced over his shoulder to where you were, before he began to swing the blade around through the air. You couldn't help but watch as he did, the way the sword sung through the air despite how dull the blade was, the way Ragnar's face was held in concentration. The way that his muscles moved underneath the button down shirt he was wearing, the way that it seemed as if the sword was a mere extension of his arm and the flow of his movements was almost a dance. He finally stopped when the blade came close to striking a short, balding man that stood there with wide eyes, the tip of the blade near his face. Ragnar straightened his body quickly and took a step back, bringing the blade down to hang by his side.

Your eyes widened at this, considering the man before you was your boss and he swallowed hard, glancing at Ragnar before looking over at you. "Who is this?" he asked, tugging at his collar for a moment, trying to calm himself from having almost been struck by a sword. "I'm so sorry, this is..." you had to think fast, and come up with something believable. "...a friend from college." Yes, that could work. You could play off the ruse that he was a fellow archaeologist with a knack for viking history and lore, like yourself, and he was so enthusiastic about it that he also dressed the part of a viking. Thankfully, the name Ragnar was still being used today in Norway and other Scandinavian countries, so when you introduced him to your boss, he gave a nod. "Well, I suppose it is good to have another viking expert to aid in the clean up of this...mess." he said as he looked around, seeing that the two of you had already pretty much finished. "Huh." He said before he brought his hands upon his hips and then looked over at you. "I am sorry that this happened, I am afraid that parents these days simply do not raise their children right, and are too afraid to reprimand them. I made sure to ban them from the museum for the foreseeable future." You gave a small nod of your head and then your boss bowed out, telling you that you could take however long you needed to repair things, no matter the overtime or cost of anything and you gave a smile of thanks. He left the two of you standing there, Ragnar still holding the blade before he looked over at you and pointed it at you with a raise of his eyebrow and tilt of his head. "Why are these so dull? Should they not be sharpened to show more accuracy? A viking would sooner die than be seen in public with a dull blade."

"Safety reasons, of course. You never know when some idiot will come along and start swinging it, almost slicing someone's face off." you said, giving him a smirk. Ragnar pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked down the edge of the blade at you and then gave a chuckle and lowered it. "I suppose that is good reason." You moved forward and reached with your hand toward his, taking the blade from him gently and brushing your fingers against his as you did so. He looked down at you with those blue eyes of his and you just smiled up at him as you walked past him toward where the weapons used to hang upon the wall. The two of you finished placing all of the weapons back up on the wall, shields as well, and then it all came down to sweeping as well as figuring out how to mend some of the clothing. A few of the tunics had tears in them, but Ragnar stated that he could sew them if he had a needle and thread. "There may be a some in the utility closet, we can look since we need to get the broom out of there anyway." you said as you glanced around the exhibit and saw that it was looking close to how it had been before, albeit a few shirtless mannequins. You turned and headed away from the viking exhibit and toward the hallway that had the utility closet, bringing out your keys from your pocket and unlocking the door so you can go in. You stepped over the threshold and moved flicked on the light before going over to a shelf. The closet was incredibly tiny, even just two people inside would be a tight fit, and you began to turn to Ragnar to tell him to hang back outside in the hall when you came face to face with him. He had come into the closet as well and your eyes shot to the door behind him and you began to try to move past him, having to push against him with how little space there was. "No! Don't let it..." the door shut and you stood there pressed against it, your forehead slowly leaning forward against it. "...shut."

Ragnar moved toward you, pretty much pressing up against you from behind as he reached around you and tried to turn the handle. "It locks from the inside as well?" Doing your best to ignore the fact his body was against yours, you lifted your head from pressing against the door. "No. Something is wrong with the door knob, it wont turn on this side to get out. Maintenance was supposed to fix it weeks ago, but they still haven't, so we usually prop it open. It's been awhile since I have been in here, that I forgot." you said as you gave a sigh. Ragnar reached around you, his body still pressing against yours, and he gripped the door knob and attempted to turn it, finding that it was indeed true, it wouldn't turn in the slightest. Your eyes widened slightly when he then tried to push against the door, one arm on either side of your body as he did, which caused him to push against your back and his hips somewhat against your backside. "Um...you might have more luck if I move?" you said, which caused him to pause and you felt him slowly lean forward more to where his mouth was next to your ear. "And take all the fun out of it?" he said which caused your body to shiver slightly. Yet you found the will power to turn swiftly and duck under one of his arms, moving behind him instead. His eyes widened slightly with the suddenness of this maneuver, but he looked over his shoulder at you and smirked. He turned back to the door and used his strength to push against it, but it still didn't budge and he heaved a sigh, turning back to you. "It'll be okay, I can just call the director..." your hands patting the pockets of your jeans and then you closed your eyes in frustration. "My phone is in my locker in the break room."

"So we are trapped for awhile?" he said, taking a step toward you, for that was all he needed to to be right next to you again in this tiny closet. You nodded. "Until someone needs in here, and happens to have a key. Only a few people have a key for this closet." You sighed and turned and began to rummage in a box that was on the shelf you had been in front of earlier. No needle and thread that you could find, but perhaps the director would allow you to take the tunics home to fix. There was no use in banging on the door and calling for help, because it was after hours and the public was gone. You knew the director would probably be here for awhile longer, and he always did a routine walk about before leaving. All you would have to do is listen for his footsteps, which were easily discernible from the fact that he walked with a limp and a cane. "What do we do until we are free?" he asked, leaning back against the wall, which you did the same, on the opposite wall. The space between you was still limited, perhaps just a few inches shy of the length of a ruler between your bodies. "Just wait, I suppose. Wait and think. Or talk." He looked at you for a moment, then let his head fall back against the wall, still gazing at you though. "Thinking sounds nice." You smirked and let your head fall back as well, closing your eyes and letting out a soft sigh. "I suppose it is, depending on what you think about." About twenty minutes of silence passed by before you began to grow annoyed with the quiet. "So what are you thinking about?" you asked, your eyes still shut as you stood there. "When you were helping me with this shirt earlier today."

Your eyes opened and you looked at him as he stood there staring at you, then you felt your body tense and your breath catch in your chest when he pushed himself away from the wall and closed the distance between the two of you, his hand coming up against the wall next to your head. "What is it that you are thinking of, y/n?" You felt that shiver from earlier run through your body as his was once again ridiculously close to yours, looking up into his face to see that his eyes were slowly roaming over your face, flicking to your lips now and then like they had earlier today. You had been thinking of how long you were going to be stuck in here, since small spaces sometimes ended up causing you to panic. Yet now that he had told you what he had been thinking about, you found your mind drifting back to that moment too, even going farther back to when he had been shirtless and you knew that your face was probably flushing bright red right now. He moved even closer to you, to where his other hand suddenly went to your hip and his fingers dug in slightly as he brought his face closer to yours, but moved to where his lips were next to your ear again. He had such a boldness when it came to invading personal space, didn't he? "Something tells me that you are thinking about that too." You swallowed slightly and turned your face a little to look over at him as he kept his close. "I actually was thinking about when you didn't have a shirt on at all." you said in a whisper, which caused his eyes to snap to yours. He stared down at you and then you felt his grip tighten against your hip, slowly sliding up to your waist, his fingers having lifted the hem of your shirt while doing so. You gasped slightly when you felt his calloused fingertips brush against your skin and you looked up at him as he moved his body to where it was holding you gently against the wall. Ragnar then glanced down at your lips and you didn't hesitate to bite your bottom lip as you looked at his, like he had done before.

You were thankful that he was supporting you against the wall with his body, for when he saw you bite your lip, you heard him give a soft groan as he then leaned in and began to brush his lips against yours. You swore that you felt the tip of his tongue begin to slide across your bottom lip when suddenly the door opened and both of your faces snapped in that direction.

Gif credit goes to: @vibrathor

Tag List: @cullenswife @hypocritic-trash-baby @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huskyhunny @wolfy1712

[yandere-toons]

I was rewatching the Lego Batman movie and came up with this idea. ———————————— You clicked away at the keyboard, staring at the bright white screen. The sounds of the keyboards clicking with people chattering filled the room. Even with all that sound, everything seemed to blur together, leaving only the ringing in your ears to be left aware. In fact, everything began to blur. You were in airplane mode for a while, a couple hours to be exact. It was a rather quiet day in the office compared to what happened last week. You had to sit in traffic for hours because of the villains in Gotham. As much as you wanted to go home, you couldn’t leave your car. Because how else are you supposed to get it back and you really couldn’t because the cars were so close together, nobody could squeeze through. And then after that came the road work making you take a different longer route and… it was jus chaos. The only good thing you got out of that was the story to tell your friends/co workers. You snapped out of your ever lasting daze when the computer glitched. It flashed black and then blue, then came back in to its original state. It went on like that again and again till it completely shot off. You banged the side of the machine with your palm in hopes to maybe get it to work like that. You looked around as the other workers groaned and whispered ‘what?’ Under their breaths as their computer malfunctioned just as yours. Just when the last computer broke down, all the lights shut off. Some people yelped in surprise as the others groaned, obviously just wanting to end the day and go home. You turned back to your computer when a laugh emitted from it. Your computer now showed a moving image of two words displayed in big red font, saying ‘GET JOKED!’. The texted tilted to its side as the laughing played on loop. Soon the laugh multiplied, spreading to the other computers, the same image flashing. Everyone looked at the door leading in and out of the room. Bane, Riddler and Scarecrow burst in to the room. “Everyone on the floor!” Yelled Scarecrow, his voice raspy as he exhaled the green mist. You got on to your knees and crawled under your desk, staying as quiet as you can. You pulled your chair in front of you to hide your body so they don’t see you. You heard your co workers yell and cry in fear as the villains laughed out loud. Anyone who tried to escape was stopped by Bane as he was guarding the door. The two others were walking around, hitting and pushing anyone down who didn’t follow their orders. You searched for your phone, only to realise you left it on your desk.

‘It’s fine. Someone else will call for help!’ You said to yourself, but realised that people cared more to run than actually get someone here. You cursed under your breath, listening for the two dumbos. They seemed to be busy with someone else, and you took that chance to grab your phone. You pushed the chair slightly to the right to make space for your arm. You searched the desk with your palm, feeling the mouse, mouse pad and a pen, but couldn’t find your phone. You heard the footsteps and laughter of the bad guys and searched faster, feeling the edge of your phone. You whispered out a victory ‘yes!’, already feeling the comfort of your bed. Sadly, that fantasy was crushed as the Scarecrow and the Riddler walked by your office area, spotting you. “Hey! They’re here!” Scarecrow announced. You pulled your arm back with your phone in hand. They both ran over to you. “Get away from me!” You shouted, kicking the chair, making it collide with Riddler. He grunted at the impact and stumbled back. You quickly lifted yourself up from the carpet covered ground and grabbed the chair. Just as Scarecrow was about to breath out his toxins, you pushed the chair in to his stomach making him lean forwards. You took the chance to run away from the two fools. You knew the door was blocked, so you had to find another way to get out. “Darling!” You yelped as someone gripped the side of your waist, pulling you closer to them. Of course, you knew who it was. It was the person behind this mess in the building. Joker. ”What is it now.” You said in a monotone voice, not returning the hug. Joker pulled away from the one-sided hug, smiling at you. “On nothing just popping in, and you know, taking over Gotham!” He let out his evil laugh, turning away from you. You took a couple steps away from him, silently and slowly getting away from the deranged man. He turned to you, his smile faltering at the sight of you trying to walk away. He took your wrist, pulling you closer to him. Surprised by the pull, he took the chance to take away your phone, stuffing it in to his pocket. “Hey!” You exclaimed after realising what he has done. “Oh you won’t need it.” He said, changing his tone in to a more calmer one. “Why are you here? In an office?” You asked. “Well, now that you asked…” He smirked. “Oh no.” You realised the mistake of asking him. Should have better kept your mouth shut. “As you probably know, this building used to be a radio station. Meaning, with the antenna still on it, I can use it to get in to the Gotham cities data bases! I can get any information I want.” He said, showing his teeth off with the way he smiled. “And because I missed you.” He once again pulled you in to an unwilling hug. You tried to push away from him, but his hug only tightened. Once you finally did, you fixed your clothes by brushing them up and down. “You know Batman is going to come and take you down… again, right?” You stated the obvious. Batman always comes, and Joker always gets away. It is the same pretty much every month. Two or three times regularly. “Don’t worry about it, toots. I have everything under control.” His voice became more deep and gravely as he ended his sentence. He pulled out his walkie-talkie and said something in to it. Something about him being ready or something. You weren’t listening as you were trying to pry his hand off of your wrist. With one swift pull to your wrist, he got your attention once again. “Come on Darling. We have to get going.” —————————— I think I did to much, idk. Also if something is wrong or weird, please ignore it. I did this at night as that is when motivation strikes me the most. :)

^ This took me way too long to make, but it's cool when people send me their writing. So I wanted to do something.

[19calicos]

can you show what everyone's skateboards look like?? please im begging 🙏🏼

anon YES! A MILLION TIMES YES OMG OMG I DONT KNOW WHY I DIDNT DO THIS YET LMFAO

this will include the skater cat fan club gc & kuroo!

when someone in the gc fucks up their board, they'll buy a plain deck from ace and hand it over to yn so they can practice and go ham with the board. it always turns out super cool, and yn not only paints something dope af on the deck but they'll also customize the grip tape as well, usually by painting on it. they’re not opposed to grip tape cut outs but its tedious work to them

more below! tap on pics to expand bc im lazy as hell. these will cover current boards (let's just say they're all the standard popsicle shape), so there are some nods to small details that i've already written so far. ignore decks that dont look painted lmfao dont think abt any details too hard ok

also none of these images are mine! all of them were gathered from pinterest.

yn's current board! the nose of their old deck got badly chipped after it hit kuroo's head and flew into the corner of some wall, and it wasn't worth it to try fixing it so they bought a basic black deck, yanked the aux cord from suna, and went ham with the board. they were really nervous about if they were going to fuck up the thermal hands or not, but obv it turned out fine. suna wrote the "overthinking will fucking kill you" text on the nose of the new board and ended up totally shredding the posca marker he used for it

suna's board is pretty old in comparison to everyone else's – he snaps the least amount of decks (but to be fair, everyone can only afford cheap ones at this time). red is his favorite color so yn has made sure to incorporate it into all his decks that they get their hands on. they also wrote his name on the grip tape (ignore how it doesnt actually say suna) for funsies since they wanted to practice a new font

wanted a domo board SO bad after he and samu went home for a weekend and helped their dad clean out the garage. he found his and samu's old domo hats and could not stop thinking about a domo board. his board at the time was fine and everything too but once he was back in tokyo he bought a pink board (the brown one looked too much like shit bc he stared at it too hard) and presented the idea to yn ...... obv they said yes. they threw in the poser text on his grip tape for funsies lolol they wanted to try out the thrasher fire font

no grip tape paint for samu bc yn was practicing the spider web grip tape cut out on his board. usually yn paints on grip tape but mattsun was commissioning yn at the time and sent them a vid of some guy doing web grip tape on a board. yn figured it was easy enough but they still wanted to use samu's new deck as a guinea pig. he was fine with it and to make up for possibly messing it up, yn brainstormed something extra cool to paint on his deck. samu is considering displaying this one since this one is extra cool

noya snapped his last deck clean in half from skating on rails lmfao. he and yn watched spirited away the night it happened so that's where the no face on the nose comes from. he goes through the most decks out of everyone bc he's always attempting some crazy ass rail trick. coincidentally he works the most shifts at ace since he's gotta pay for these decks somehow

kuroo has accumulated two boards so far: his first one that yn picked out at ace (shown above) and the one that yn made for him at community day. he's not planning on skating with the second one for preservation reasons. after finding out that yn designs decks though, he asked if they could customize his somehow, so they doodled gir (in disguise) from invader zim, one of kuroo's favorite tv shows as a kid.

bonus!

ukai doesn't skate as often anymore, but sometimes, if he's at ace, he'll join a sesh right after ace closes for the day. yn designed this board for his birthday last year, and he usually keeps it on display in the shop since it's one of yn's best works. it was definitely a process for them to make and took a lot of experimentation, but it paid off and is one of their best performing decks on their socials

[java-dragon]

Covers Bookbinding for beginners by a beginner- The Home Stretch

*drinks half a gallon of coffee*

COVERS!

You've gotten your typeset done for the fic, you've battled the demon that is your printer, folded pages, stitched pages, glued pages, glued end pages, and end bands. Made the cover, covered the cover in potentially homemade book cloth.

Now it's time to design a cover.

It's time to make this thing into a fully functioning book and slide it on your shelf and have a nice bout of "Laying on the Floor while Questioning the Human Condition (TM)".

There are a few options.

It depends on what you want.

I can only take you so far with Cricut/vinyl applications. But I researched enough to maybe, MAYBE give you the run down on at least how to get your cover from Canva to the software to cut out your vinyl. I'll start there since this is what I know the least.

Open up your version of Canva.

Make a document, I've seen some fanbinders make all this in the cricut software but I can only smile and nod along. But for me- this is the best I've figured:

go to the search bar and type in book cover (or use the drop down menu) click on a random template.

Fiddle and fart your way into a design you like. Text and Font Options are available in drop down menus and find some designs that are "Easy to Weed" which I understand as "Getting rid of all the stuff that's not going on the cover".

For Example:

Do you like it? It took me 40 seconds, I'm very proud of it. But this isn't to impress you really I just need to show you how to save your file so you can make the leap from one software application to the next.

Hit "Share", Hit "Download", File Type- Hit the down arrow, Hit "PNG" I missed this for the first few times--- BUT!

Click the "Transparent Background"

If you're doing more than one colour Vinyl you're going to duplicate the page that is located right next to the lock icon above the document. Hit that. Delete the stuff that you want to be different colours. Otherwise it will just cut everything out as one colour and I've seen some vinyl covers that get damn fancy.

You can also build a title cover just measure the spine and height of your spine and rotate your text to horizontal if you please.

Now for how I do mine. I use Printable Iron On Vinyl. Keynote there is a difference, there is stuff for light fabrics, and stuff for dark. Choose for what your primary book cloth will be but the paper itself will be white.

Make your design.

I have 3 different covers for Celestial Navigation by Sabrecmc just because of how LARGE the fic itself is. I had to split the text block up for ease of handling.

I saved as a PNG, and loaded up my fancy printable vinyl into my printer and went through the software for printing, I had to do some fiddling but for my purposes I had to get the whole cover in the right size on the page- it took some fiddling yours might be simpler it might be more complex. But once I got it printed I trimmed off the white and was left with a peel-able rather velvety feeling thing.

Remove the backing. Get the iron on and go low and slow with the provided barrier material to prevent melting and damage to the print you've just done.

I made spines as well and made an 11 x 8.5 (Or brochure template)

And lined up my spines accordingly as to not waste materials. There will be grids that pop up automatically to let you know if things line up.

Print them out on the "highest quality" out put for your photo software.

It peels like a sticker. It may take a bit to get it going.

Line it up as nicely as you can on the cover (double check on the still exposed board).

There is a protective sheet that comes with it USE IT. Set your iron to a low heat and move it around frequently.

If you're in a relatively humid area (I live in a coastal town so the humidity is pretty high all year). Have a heavy book to squish your covers down with to try and get out any bends that may happen post ironing (also why we want low and slow).

Leave to cool.

Now you have a text block and a cover.

For all intents and purposes for my demonstration I'm leaving the spine off and am redoing everything with this fic from the ground up. There are aspects and mistakes that I have made that have irked my brain. So I will be leaving the spines off for this round. This is the learning curve and since a lot have things have clicked into place since beginning this series that have given me the "AH HA! CLARITY!" moment. I have completely reworked EVERYTHING in my text block of Celestial Navigation. Plus I've a perfectionist issue that is a lot milder than what it was.

But these two text blocks will work as my "Ground Zero" and will be the books I compare all potential future binds too.

As a note that I said in the beginning of this endeavor:

THIS IS FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY. FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK DO NOT SELL WORK THAT DOES NOT BELONG TO YOU!!!! YOU HAVE ASKED PERMISSION (I dearly hope) TO DO THIS DO NOT BREAK TRUST WITH THE AUTHOR.

IF You want to offer a copy to the author- GO FOR IT. Close friend that is showing interest in the fic?? Sure ok.

But if you sell it for monetary gain? I hope you stub your toe, and just before it finally heals you stub your toe again and may all your breakfast cereal turn to slugs.

DO NOT BE A DICK. I am writing this whole 'How To' Series as an experiment of Good Faith that you, the potential binder, will do right by the community and not compound an issue that has been cropping up. Etsy sellers, and this horrible Facebook community that will steal other's typesets, and begin selling them.

Like I said- this is a breech in Fair Use.

Now with that lecture, again, out of the way lets settle the rest of this series.

You will need:

Glue

Book Press

glue brush

Wax Paper.

Your Cover.

Your Text block.

Get your textblock and cover lined up with some wax paper in the middle of the decorative pages (if you're doing them other wise the page you glue down to the cover and the rest of the text block.

Fiddle, fart and dry fit until you are satisfied.

Lay down a layer of glue on the page NOT THE COVER ITSELF.

DON'T BE ME. I FUCKED UP HARDCORE AND DID THE COVER WITH THE GLUE. HOOOOO NELLY LET ME TELL YOU HOW BADLY THAT FUCKED SHIT UP.

HOW BAD WAS IT? BAD. VERY BAD. DON'T BE LIKE ME THAT FIRST ROUND, BE LIKE ME ON THE SECOND ROUND AND PUT GLUE ON THE END PAGE.

Line up the textblock for a final time and then apply the paper to the cover open the textblock and smooth what you just glued down. Flip over and repeat.

Then add weight to the text block put it back in your press, or if you're like me and have a reprint in the press just throw books atop the block.

Allow glue to cure over night.

Shiver, shudder, and lay on the floor. Your fic is now a book that you can put on your shelf.

Welcome to the wild wild world of bookbinding.

I've been your host trying their best to explain all the things.

I will likely continue this series with "OK SO I LEARNED SOME SHIT ALL THAT SHIT I WROTE BEFORE FEEL FREE TO LISTEN BUT I'VE GOT BETTER SOLUTIONS NOW" time stuff.

[xaviermattthews]

something in the orange tells me you're never comin' home.

location: x and van's home, aurora bay drive.

when: july 13th 2024, early morning.

triggers warnings: death, parental death.

With sixteen track names scribbled across ever-shuffling flashcards, X pours over the running order he's settled on in his ninth attempt that morning to finalise Submergence's next album's tracklist. He plays a snippet of each song in his mind, listening to how he thinks it might flow before he actually puts them together in that order for a full listen.

By the time he gets to eight, he's already decided it's bloated, the sharpie in his hand drawing two large x's through what would have been nine and eleven so he could cull it down to a 14 track run.

The finish line was within reaching distance and he could feel the frustration and the apprehension that went with it right down to his bones which was why he found himself grateful for the solitude his girlfriend had granted him by taking their energetic border collie with her on her run. Nothing he decided on would be finalised without Van's input as well as their other bandmates, but if it was going to be an argument then he wanted to be certain he believed in what he wanted first.

There were few people who had been granted the digital permission to bypass his Do Not Disturb feature, one being Van herself and another being his drummer and friend. It's the third time in a fifteen minute that the name BOWIE SHORE flashes on his screen and the man knew him well enough to not ring more than twice unless it was vital because he ignored his phone for a good reason.

He picks up and answers on the fifth ring, greeting his friend in a clipped tone.

"You keep blowing up my fucking phone Bow and there won't be an album for this rollout, you get that, yeah? What?"

"Have you not been online at all?"

"No, whatever it is, I don't have the time." X informs him, assuming what must have been stressing him out was another old resurfaced interview or an article musing on whether or not they had lost their way after he had gotten sober. He's read it all in every font.

"X, can you just check your texts, please? I'm sending you a link. Look man, I don't know if it's real or not and I really hope it isn't but it's not the only place I'm seeing it."

There's a furrow in his eyebrows then as he switches the phone to loudspeaker, swiping up to his messages that were in the triple digits of unread -- nothing new there -- and clicked on the text thread under Bowie's name.

"Alright, hold on."

He can see his name in the preview, his eyes rolling instantly at the source being TMZ. He clicks it, a pop-up version of the article opening for him. The last face he had expected to see was that of his father's, someone he hasn't seen in person in over a decade now.

The sight alone causes a twist in his stomach that only worsens as he reads the headline and the words in print that follow it.

Panic creeps through him as his eyes scan over the syllables, all that he could manage to combat it with was a stronger sense of denial that leaves his mouth in an overly-sure scoff.

"This is bullshit, Bowie. You know TMZ ran a story saying I died. Twice. My dad's not fucking dead, he lives by too strict a daily itinerary for that. Doesn't fit into the schedule. You really need to not believe everything you read online."

In the back of his mind, he knows one of those misprints made sense given it had hit the press immediately after his near-fatal overdose, but the one that had proceeded it was false intel taken as fact.

That's what this was -- he's certain.

( It had to be. )

"X, I think you should call your m--"

The beep of another incoming call distracts him from his bandmates voice, his band manager Dalton the contact that flashed up. He always found Van more levelheaded than X to deal with and she was his first port of call for band related business.

He declines the call and cuts off Bowie's in process, ignoring the way he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. He clicks through his contacts and scrolls to his sister's, holding the phone back against his ear as he listens to the dial tone.

It rings and rings and rings, each one inching him closer to what feels like an anxiety attack. His free hand is balled into a fist, the side of it tapping lightly against his own chest as he paces around the room.

When it goes to voicemail, he reminds himself she's twenty-six.

No twenty-six year old answered the phone this early on a Saturday, that was all.

There's only one other Matthews in his contact list who had made it through every phone and number change of his, carrying over the digits to each device despite the fact that he hasn't used them in years.

( Darren Matthews was the kind of man who never changed his number -- ever reliable in the way his son wasn't. )

He hadn't called it no matter how dark things had gotten because he knew he would answer despite their harsh parting words and he's never been ready for that conversation.

He's not ready for it then either, but no matter what he has to say to him, he knows hearing his voice was the only thing that would quell the swirl of emotions within him that are starting to make him sick.

There's the same dial tone as before, ringing and ringing, the floor beneath him feeling shakier and shakier as it did. He thinks he's actually about to be sick when the call clicks to signal it had been picked up, the relief that flooded him felt like a tsunami -- just like his new album's title.

"Hey, it's me. X. M'sorry for calling, this is going to sound so fucking weird but there was this dumb article that--"

He's cut off by a voice on the other end interrupting him, softer than the one he expected, shakier than he had ever heard her.

"Xavier, Xavier, darlin'."

He would know his mother's voice anywhere, the warmth of it having an opposing effect on him in that moment, turning the blood in his veins to what felt like ice.

"Why do you have my dad's phone, mom?" X asks, sounding and feeling like the thirteen year-old he had been the last time he had seen them in a room together as a couple, before the foundation of his life had shattered with a divorce and splintered into two houses, two families and one X who didn't know where he was supposed to fit into it all.

What Addie says next he can only pick up in disjointed snippets, the ringing in his ears louder than her sob-wracked words.

He hears his name again and an it's your daddy, he's gone, I'm so sorry. There's an apology that follows but it's too frantic for him to catch all of it -- she was going to call, someone was meant to call, she thought someone called.

He's not aware that he's crying until his hand reaches up to his face and he finds a steady stream of tears streaking his cheeks. It stings when he blinks and he can't find anything to say to comfort his mother, the silence on his end nothing new to his immediate family, it was the only thing he did consistently for them.

He can still hear her wails as another voice speaks down the line, one that sounded so close to what he could remember of his father's that he's almost fooled again into thinking TMZ had been wrong.

It's only when he registers the words does he realise that it couldn't be Darren, it had to be Ernest, his uncle and his father's brother who spoke in the same cadence as the late man but used words X knew he would never have said to him if he was alive.

"Y'need to come home, Xavier. You need to come home."

[smallfrogpleasedtomeetyou]

Heyyy what’s up it’s the anon writing the Eret fic :)

I’m currently 2500 words in and mayyybe approaching the end? Idk I’m bad at endings lol. Anyways, another idea hit me while I’m obsessing over this guy.

Did we ever learn what happened to Eret’s crew after the 2nd movie? I’d assume that they were likely killed either by Drago or in the conflict between the alphas, which can be more upsetting considering all of the theories that they are people from Eret’s tribe.

It would make an interesting story to explore what may have happened to them, as either Eret would be grieving them knowing that his betrayal of Drago led to their deaths. If you lean into the theory that they are last survivors of Eret’s tribe, he’d be coping with being the sole survivor left of his home. Or maybe they’re alive, but Eret is afraid to face them now that he’s a dragon rider and not a trapper anymore.

Oh damn I just got distracted by the text options for asks- apparently I can have a different font?

Wow

I’m a bit scatterbrained lol- hope you’re having a good evening!

Ohhhhh you know I never really considered that I always thought they just died but god damn

My brain just immediately went to drago displaying their corpses or what if during the battle eret had to watch a dragon kill them in self defense augh

Yayyyy I’m glad the fic is going good and my evening was very nice thank uuuuu

[atgvnpoint]

" i don't throw subliminals i would rather say the the truth to your face. and you know that perfectly well too. " benji probably forgot he's a montserrate, his last name should say more than words can ever describe. " never once called you a whore, just stating facts. maybe your new friend is now deemed the new kissing partner -- does ludo know about him..." he says curiously. amaru has always spoken in through his pain , hurt and jealousy which he was feeling right now. something that Benji probably didn't notice or bothered to care. the other guy filled that gap for Benji. in the end, it's true what he's always thought ; he'll never be a choice just a replacement. he felt the void within himself just thinking about his reality and although he's tired moving forward with his life, fate seemed to continue fucking him up by running into Benji. every. damn. time. letting benji cook up a storm with his words, amaru's dark eyes stared at the one person who he loves, dark brows furrowed expressing his signature dark yet haunting expression on his features. " why explain how you two became friends, didn't you say you got nothing to report back to me about. your new friend is me just in a different fucking font. " cris wasn't okay with this standoff but he trusted benji in terms of ending this encounter quickly. hopefully picking to leave instead. As benji continued to report on things, stating how his brother was at home writing his music. something positive for once considering all the parties he's been at without benny on his hip. but what hit the most hardest is hearing benji talk about his suit being a surprise. this wedding became the bane of his existence -- finding out about it was painful. for some reason he was obligated to be at this wedding, amaru didn't want to be here, no invitation was sent to him simply because his brother didn't want him to be there. only sofia. that's the only reason why he's here. none of these people know how painful this was on him, yet he had to walk around like nothing ever happened, shoving his feelings away and sweeping it under the rug. the more the other explained the more jabs he took to his heart. just why couldn't he hate benji and leave to never look back? his love for this man has ripped his soul to shreds.

" oh i can, all it takes is a simple fucking text maybe even a call. he'll come without giving it much thought. deep down you know that. " did he ever think they both would end up in this situation, not really. the slap against his face was nothing compared the shit he can do, another thing benji forgot about is the fact that amaru broke jaws and limbs as a career when he wasn't racing. having the other so close had his mind spiraling, dark hues grew darker. then, the other's hand settled against his throat and that's when things took a turn. after listening to benji. " go on then suffocate me! i'll enjoy every minute of it! " he chuckled , a wicked grin playing on his lips. " nah, you're not worth a bullet...maybe i just want you to suffer through the pain and guilt for pulling the trigger on me. besides, think of it this way. i'll no longer be in the middle of you and ludo, you two can live happily ever after. See, you got a reason to pull trigger. i don't pull triggers on people who i love ; that's difference. "

in the mist of the chaos, cris quickly texted and called AJ but no answer so we went to look for him instead wherever he was. quickly, amaru noticed the new friend left which had him smiling. " i can do more than just talk. " he murmurs against benji's plush lips, the ones he's kissed many times in the past. when benji stopped talking, this was amaru's opportunity given how they were alone. " i got the guts to do this..." he says the words so quick, molding his lips with benji's soft yet warm ones, he tasted the same. like sea salt. his hands wrestled their way to cup the other's cheek, and his other hand grabbing a fistful of those soft golden curls. one thing the other could never deny is deep within himself, benji still loved him. perhaps it wasn't as strong of a love or the love he feels for his brother. fingertips rake against the other's scalp, slipping his tongue into the warmth cavity of benji's mouth just for a few seconds until he broke from the kiss. dark hues gazing into those brilliant blue eyes. his thumb caressing along the cheekbone so effortlessly, while his other hand firmly held those curls against his palm tightly. " say it to my face that you fucking hate me and don't wish for me to be at your wedding! tell me you don't love me and never will! say it! despite everything, even today and all the bullshit we've been through. you still love me! say it Benji because i need to hear it. I'll walk right through that door and never look back, i'll leave my heart here. " each word slicing through the room , echoing about them as he stared into benji's blue eyes awaiting for him to say those words. within the silence you could hear their breathing. " say it benji !! "

There   was   still   some   kind   of   feeling   in   his   heart   for   Amaru.   Or   why   was   Benji   always   feeling   the   need   to   explain   himself?   Why   was   he   trying   so   hard   to   defend   not   just   himself   but   also   Cris   and   Ludovic?   Why   was   he   trying   to   get   the   nice   Amaru   back?   He   wasn't   there   anymore   and   he   had   his   reasons   not   to   be   there   anymore.   They   can   never   be   together   because   Ludovic   will   always   be   Benji's   number   one.   Yet,   it   hurt   him   to   the   core   knowing   how   Amaru   thought   of   him.   Why   would   he   even   think   that   Benji   goes   around   kissing   his   friends   left   and   right?   All   of   this   made   Benji   angry   but   sad   at   the   same   time.   On   top   of   that,   he   knew   that   he   shouldn't   be   here   because   Amaru's   mere   presence   will   cause   problems   with   Ludovic   again.   But   somehow,   he   wished   that   this   just   ended   in   a   fistfight.   Then   it   will   be   over.   Then   Amaru   finally   had   an   outlet   for   his   frustration.   Benji   had   no   clue   how   he   should   explain   bruised   and   wounds   to   his   husband,   but   he   could   worry   about   that   when   the   damage   was   done.   At   least,   so   Benji   thought.

The   wicked   grin   on   Amaru's   lips   had   him   shivering   a   bit,   but   Benji   didn't   dare   to   back   down.   No   word   fell   from   Benji's   lips   as   he   listened   to   Amaru's   words,   something   he   expected   to   hear.   He   kind   of   knew   that   Amaru   wouldn't   pull   the   trigger   on   him.   But   was   it   love?   The   longer   this   went   on   between   them,   the   less   Benji   believed.   Maybe   it   was   obsession,   rivalry,   or   revenge.   Benji   didn't   notice   that   Cris   left   them   alone   because   if   he   would,   he   would   have   backed   away.   His   blue   eyes   lingered   on   Amaru's   dark   ones   while   Benji   fell   silent.   Another   mistake   he   made.   Warm,   soft   lips   captured   his.   Benji's   grasp   around   Amaru's   throat   loosened,   his   other   hand   came   to   rest   on   the   other's   chest   but   he   couldn't   push   Amaru   away.   Strong   fingers   grasped   his   hair,   keeping   his   head   in   position.   Almost   automatically,   Benji's   eyes   closed   and   his   body   trembled   a   bit.   Maybe   he   parted   his   lips   a   bit,   maybe   he   even   kissed   Amaru   back   but   certainly,   he   didn't   stop   the   other's   tongue   from   slipping   into   his   mouth,   at   least   not   as   he   should.   Within   mere   seconds,   all   those   memories   came   back,   the   good   ones   and   the   very   bad   ones.   He   felt   like   he   had   no   air   to   breathe   anymore   because   it   was   Ludovic's   face   that   came   to   his   mind   right   away.   The   disappointed,   sad   expression   he   couldn't   handle   even   though   he   looked   right   at   Amaru   again.   Shaking   palms   rested   against   Amaru's   chest   and   the   touch   against   his   cheekbone   seemed   to   burn   his   skin.   Benji's   mind   was   spinning.   Why   should   he   say   those   things   now?   He   doesn't   hate   Amaru,   he   could   never   hate   the   other   man   even   though   he   should.   But   there   was   one   thing   Benji   was   certain   of:   he   had   to   stop   this.   He   couldn't   lead   Amaru   on   any   longer.   The   other   man   deserved   to   leave   it   all   behind   and   start   a   happy   life   with   someone   else.   No   matter   how   Benji   feels,   he   had   to   end   it   right   here   for   Amaru,   for   Ludovic,   and   for   himself.

Plush   lips   parted,   but   there   was   silence.   Benji   has   been   in   this   situation   countless   times   before.   Whenever   he   was   overthinking,   he   ended   up   in   this   scenario   again.   In   his   mind,   everything   was   so   easy   to   say   and   to   end,   but   now   that   he   had   to   look   in   Amaru's   eyes,   it   wasn't   as   easy   anymore.   A   piece   of   his   heart   will   always   belong   to   the   other   and   Benji   didn't   know   how   this   happened   and   why   it   happened.   Ludovic   tried   to   end   his   life   the   last   time   Amaru   and   Benji   kissed.   This   couldn't   happen   again.   ❝Don't   come   to   the   wedding,❞   Benji   finally   managed   to   say   after   a   long   while   of   silence.   He   didn't   know   if   Cris   was   there   or   AJ   or   if   he   was   alone   with   Amaru   but   right   now   it   didn't   matter   anymore.   He   had   to   do   what   was   best   for   all   of   them.   His   own   feelings   didn't   matter.   ❝We   will   never   be   a   thing.   There   will   never   be   an   us.   You   and   me   can   never   be.   I   don't   love   you.   Move   on   and   find   someone   who   makes   you   happy   but   that   someone   is   not   me.❞ // @inscnityclub

[mybrainrotforreal]

Hector and Charlie keep their relationship in secret and yet, they make everyone feels single af

(i'm new on tumblr and finally find how to make the font itallic 🥺)

Y'know, I was fact checking about FBI agent dating each other and I found this

So yeah they definitely need to keep their relationship in secret since Hector outranks Charlie. They call each other last name, they don't discuss personal matters in the office and they try to keep their hands from each other but!

- The entire office realizes Charlie is wearing a jacket bigger than his size and Hector is now wearing his beige coat after Charlie lost his jacket from the fire. Even when the official jacket is already in stock, Charlie doesn't order it.

- Whenever one of them take a sick leaves, the other will ask for a leave or work from home

- It's literally summer and Charlie wears turtleneck and Hector is in a very good mood. (He doesn't glare at everyone).

- Hector literally eye fucks him whenever he looks at Charlie and sometimes it makes Charlie lowers his gaze, blush creeps on his cheek.

Betty, from the administration : *looking at them* *is ready to stab her eyes with a stapler*

- It was raining, Hector opens his umbrella for Charlie and as they walk in the rain to get home, Hector puts his arm around Charlie's shoulders and positions the umbrella towards the younger man so it covers him more. Making sure he won't be wet.

Richard, another field agent who walks behind them : *using his own jacket over his head, hoping a car would slip and hit him when he crossed the street*

- It was autumn, when Hector get back to their office, he got leaves and dried flower on his shoulder. Charlie couldn't help himself to stroke his shoulder with care to get rid of them.

Jason, who just get back from catching criminals last night and got flu from the cold wind: *silently hoping his snot would totally block his nostril and die*

- They have office night out and Charlie gets really really drunk, he latches onto Hector like an octopus, unintentionally risking their dirty little secret.

Hector : *acknowledging this, takes him in his arm and carry him gently, bridal style* I'll drive him home, it's dangerous if he go home alone in this state

Kate, the field agent who agrees to the night out because she just got dumped : yeah, sure *continues to drink, close to alcohol poisoning*

- Charlie : *dutifully hands over his hat to Hector, who needs to go for a meeting with their informant* Take care, Agent Munday. Text me when you get there.

Hector : *takes the hat and when their fingers touch, he lingers for a second* *nods then leaves*

Erin, the new rookie : *watching the interaction and asks Charlie * awww, you guys are so cute. How long have you been married? Are FBI agents prohibited to wear wedding ring?

Charlie : *chokes on his own spit* we- we are not married! *later that night, when they are having dinner* Hector, why are we not married?

Hector : *misses his steak when he cuts it* you want to marry me? 🥺🥺🥺

Months later, they plans to marry and Charlie went to the HR

Charlie : I'm sorry but I have to tell you that Hector and me have been dat--

Catherine, the HR officer who mourns her single life everyday since these two teamed up : WE KNOW!

[overculturedswine]

I finished my first run of Scarlet Hollow last night and my two main thoughts were 1) “How have I not played this before now?”, and 2) “Maybe I should’ve waited till it was all the way done”.

Like, it was amazing. I heard about it from Slay the Princess, and many of the things I liked there I liked here as well. Like the art is obviously incredible. What I thought was super special here was the atmosphere tho, it hits just right for me. This is just me projecting onto it, but I’m queer, and it felt just like going home. I’m not from a town that small, I’m from rich suburbs, but *everyone* goes to the same church, and in my area, most people are cousins or something. Going home is comfy and familiar, and there’s a lot I like, but there’s a lot of anxiety just sitting there under the surface. The game has such a perfect cozy little horror, and I love it.

I love the characterization on everybody. They’re all so good. The only problem with the cast is that flirting and romance options start to pop up when my wife Stella is not in the cast. Other than that it’s just perfect. I love Tabitha too, she’s like a really ugly cat, she’s adorable.

This was better than StP, but I wish there were better font and text choices. Playing on a Steam Deck is easier for me and the text size and navigation isn’t perfect. It’s not terrible, but it can be annoying.

I’ve already started my second playthrough, the umm, what are they called, traits? Seem like a really cool way to change things up and it’s been interesting already.

[speedyposts]

Shooting war: Gaza’s visual storytellers under ‘blatant’ attack

Yaser Murtaja and Roshdi Sarraj were friends who shared a love of making films about life in Gaza. In 2012, they set up their own production company, Ain Media – its motto: “Deeper than you see” – with just one camera.

Little did the pair of visual poets know that their passion would cost them their lives.

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Dabiri-Erewa warns Nigerians against irregular migration, Especially to Canada

The Nigerians in Diaspora Commission (NiDCOM), Abike Dabiri-Erewa, has urged Nigerians travelling abroad to go legitimately and with proper documentation

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Murtaja was first to be killed, targeted by a sniper while documenting the Great March of Return in 2018, a protest in which Palestinian protesters demanded they be allowed to return to the lands their families had been displaced from in 1948 with the founding of Israel. Sarraj died last year shortly after Israel launched its war on Gaza when his house was hit by two rockets. He was eating breakfast at the time, says his widow, Shrouq Aila, an investigative journalist and producer.

Ain Media is also mourning videographer Ibrahim Lafi, 21, killed under heavy shelling near the Beit Hanoon, or Erez, crossing on the Gaza-Israel border at the start of the war. Two others – Haitham Abdulwaheed, 25, and Nidal Wahidi, 33 – are currently missing.

“It’s really heavy on the heart to feel your profession is a threat,” Aila says. There is no time, she says, to grieve under the attacks.

The deaths and disappearances of the Ain Media photographers underscore the devastating ways in which visual journalists in Gaza have been hit as they work to cover the war while under fire, with limited food and water, and during power cuts and communications blackouts. More journalists have been killed in the current fighting than in any war over the past three decades. But veteran visual journalists say their peers have been particularly targeted. And while all wars are dangerous, Israel’s assault on Gaza has felt different, they say.

For the past four months, Gaza’s photographers, videographers and camera operators have acted as the eyes of the world, ensuring the civilian catastrophe unfolding in the enclave is not forgotten. With Israel mostly barring entry into the strip for foreign journalists, Gaza’s reporters have often been the only ones to offer reporting on the crisis.

The conflict has seen a new generation of talent emerge, some professionals with big name outfits, others working freelance, all potentially a click away from losing everything.

They’ve captured aerial views of rubble-strewn moonscapes and freezing tent camps; wide angle images of the people of Gaza leaving their homes behind, of countless bodies in mass graves and of crowds jostling for food with pans held aloft; mid-shots of premature babies at al-Shifa Hospital deprived of incubators, their tiny bodies squirming under fluorescent lighting; and close-ups of mothers grieving their dead children.

Names like Motaz Azaiza, the photojournalist who has come to personify the power of digital activism, have burst from nowhere as the humanity of their work moves millions. Azaiza now has more followers on Instagram than US President Joe Biden.

Occasionally, in a tragic twist, Gaza’s visual journalists have themselves become the story. Al Jazeera camera operator Samer Abudaqa, 45, was left to bleed out for five hours just a couple of kilometres away from the nearest hospital after an Israeli drone strike. According to witnesses, Israeli forces denied permission to ambulances and medical staff to reach Abudaqa, who died.

Al Jazeera’s Gaza bureau chief, Wael Dahdouh, survived that attack but in January lost his 27-year-old son, cameraman Hamza Dahdouh, in an Israeli bombing – the fifth member of his family to be killed in the latest Gaza war.

The Israeli army has told international news agencies that it cannot guarantee the safety of journalists operating in the strip. Sherif Mansour, Middle East and North Africa coordinator at the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ), says he sees a “deadly pattern” of assaults, detention and harassment.

As of January 20, the CPJ reported 83 journalists and media workers killed since the war began on October 7. Of these, at least 22 were photographers, videographers and camera operators.

Wielding a camera in conflicts has always been a dangerous occupation. Visual journalists are close to the action, easily identified by their equipment and at constant risk of beaming out their location. Gaza has accelerated a trend already seen in Syria, Libya and Ukraine – the people capturing vital images of conflict under fire from hostile forces.

“They were actively targeted before, but it just wasn’t as blatant as this,” says Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist Greg Marinovich, who spent 30 years covering conflicts around the globe and now teaches visual journalism at Boston University and the Harvard Summer School. He co-wrote The Bang Bang Club, a book recounting his experiences during South Africa’s apartheid era, which is viewed as a touchstone for photojournalists the world over.

“In South Africa, I’d say most of the killings were accidental or uncaring. Journalists were seen as royal game, but not entirely,” he says. “But this has changed radically, and part of that is the social media equation, this propaganda war that is being waged endlessly. And journalists are seen as a huge part of that. … You’ve got to understand that you are going to be targeted if you’re going to survive.”

The death of Reuters video journalist Issam Abdallah, 37, shelled by an Israeli tank crew as he filmed fire on the Israel-Lebanon border, is a case in point.  He and his fellow reporters from Agence France-Presse and Al Jazeera were all wearing press flak jackets, yet were fired at not once but twice as they turned their cameras on an Israeli military outpost. AFP photographer Christina Assi, 28, was severely wounded and later had her leg amputated.

“That was definitely to stop them filming and reporting even though they were clearly marked and had been there for around an hour,” Marinovich says. “Lots of people are watching for clues, so they can spot if you’re photographing. If you report something that people don’t like, you might be standing 100 metres [110 yards] from them while they’re seeing what you’re doing. That can be a very ugly situation.”

The dangers faced by Gaza’s visual journalists has been amplified by Israeli efforts to legitimise targeting them, analysts say. In November, the Israeli government alleged that several freelance photographers in Gaza who worked for major international media organisations had participated in the October 7 attacks by Hamas on southern Israel, in which nearly 1,139 people were killed and 240 taken captive. The media organisations rejected the allegations.

News shooters are driven to get as close as possible to the action, so the stakes couldn’t be higher. Aila says Ain Media’s photographers and videographers have felt safer staying in hospitals and other hubs to avoid being targeted en route to documenting casualties.

Mansour says that like other journalists, Ain Media’s workers have also faced smears. “We have identified a pattern of responses by the Israeli military to evade responsibility, calling journalists terrorists, disseminating false narratives about their association with Hamas, saying they have evidence to support that they were involved in violence. When pressed on that, they provide nothing.”

Sarraj, too, faced such accusations. An independent filmmaker, he had worked as a fixer for news organisations like Radio France and Le Monde, had taken photos for the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees and had documented human rights abuses for rights group Amnesty International.

“We were happy that international organisations refuted those claims and stood by the work that those freelancers had given,” Mansour says. “These smear campaigns have basically put people who are already in a very vulnerable and dangerous environment into imminent harm.”

In other conflict zones, you can always get out, he says. “Gaza is a 20-mile (32km) strip that’s six miles (10km) wide.

“They have no safe haven and no exit.”

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Dabiri-Erewa warns Nigerians against irregular migration, Especially to Canada

The Nigerians in Diaspora Commission (NiDCOM), Abike Dabiri-Erewa, has urged Nigerians travelling abroad to go legitimately and with proper documentation

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[purplesurveys]

1735

1 - When was the last time you met someone for the first time? Two Mondays ago. I went to a networking thing and chatted up a bit with the CEO of a local talent agency and a few of her employees.

2 - What’s the longest amount of time you’ve gone without bathing? 3 days was probably my longest range that made me go, "dude, you're gross." lol.

3 - Have you ever cooked with crab or lobster? Could you ever bring yourself to kill a live lobster/crab? I've never cooked with either and don't think I can kill any kind of animal for the purpose of cooking.

4 - What’s your favourite font? What size and colour do you prefer to use when you’re doing surveys? My favorite font to use in work decks these days is the one called Red Hat Text. As a standard, I like to stick with black and font size 11 but I switch them up if necessary.

5 - Have your clothing choices changed since COVID hit and you started to stay at home more? Yes. I used to be big on short dresses and shorts pre-COVID...not sure why that changed but in any case I hate showing leg skin now as it makes me feel exposed. K-pop's also made me lean towards more oversized/baggy apparel.

6 - When was the last time you went through a drive-through? I wanna say around a month ago? I just wanted a McDonald's cheeseburger after a long F2F day at work.

7 - Which fast food restaurant do you go to the most? What do you tend to order when you go there? McDonald's is my favorite partly because it's always a safe option to go with, and partly because I work with them so there's a bias hah. McNuggets used to be my go-to order, but now I find myself always getting a double cheeseburger with a request to remove the ketchup, mustard, and pickles.

8 - Do you own any plaid/flannel shirts? I don't think so.

9 - If you eat it, how do you like your steak cooked? What sauces and sides do you like to get with it? If you’re vegetarian, what would you have instead of a steak dinner? I like it rare; even medium-rare would make my eye twitch hahaha. I've never been picky when it comes to the sauces and sides.

10 - Are there any foods and drinks you only have around Christmas? My grandma's specialty dishes, especially her steak. She also makes this like creamy chicken thing but I can't for the life of me remember what it's called.

11 - Does it bother you when dogs jump up at you? Does it bother you less if it’s a smaller dog? No, it has never bothered me and I don't think it will. That changes of course if the dog is jumping because it's planning to bite my face off, but as far as friendly dogs, I'm open to all ways they'd like to show interest/affection.

12 - What kind of animal did you touch last? Was this animal one of your pets? That would be Cooper, and yes he is one of my dogs.

13 - Which colour do you prefer, red or blue? Blue.

14 - How would you describe your sense of humour? Have you ever offended someone when you were only joking? It's all over the place because I'm easily amused – I can laugh at anything from bad dad jokes to borderline offensive humor. To the second question, I'm almost certain that I have. It can happen.

15 - When was the last time you cried - what caused it? Yesterday. I was telling my parents that I got promoted again but that I don't want the higher position anymore, and that I plan on leaving the company in 2024. My dad sent me a private message and said his congrats but that he will also support me through whatever decision I make, and that made me cry.

The last few days have been mentally taxing precisely because of thoughts I've had about finally cementing my decision to leave for good, and those were the words I really needed to hear. Everyone else I've shared this with otherwise tells me to consider the higher raise and the nicer shinier label I can soon call my own, and that's just...not where I am right now, so it's frustrating when it's reinforced over and over.

16 - What’s your favourite flavour of potato chip? Salted egg or honey butter. Or just plain, that works well too.

17 - Do you have a lot of artwork around your house? What kind of art? We have a few generic, mass-produced paintings and miniature sculptures but that's it.

18 - When you paint your nails, what kind of colours do you tend to go for? I never get my nails painted. Just seems like a minor pamper-y luxury I can easily live without.

19 - Do you prefer fruit or vegetable juice? What kind of flavours do you like? I do not like the idea of either.

20 - What’s the weather doing where you are? Is that typical for this time for this time of year? There are like two typhoons doing a dance in the country rn so it has been awful, but on a more privileged note I do enjoy the colder temperature and nap weather it's been giving. And yeah, this is usually the time we have a slew of typhoons coming in every week.

21 - Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? How did you meet this person? It was just the receptionist at the restaurant I had reserved a table at for my mom's birthday lunch today. I never 'met' her and I just called the number because it was indicated on that restaurant's Instagram.

22 - Are you eating or drinking anything right now? I have my usual cup of coffee which is never absent when I take surveys.

23 - Who was your first celebrity crush? Which celebrity do you like now? My first celebrity crush was Ashley Tisdale and these days I like BTS.

24 - When was the last time you went to Starbucks? What did you get? Two Sundays ago – I got their new iced brown sugar shaken espresso (why must such a good drink be such a mouthful to say?) and their Belgian chocolate cupcake.

25 - Do you have a credit card? How much money do you owe on there? Continued from last night. I don't own a credit card.

26 - What colours have you dyed your hair in the past? What kind of colours would you like to dye it in the future? I've done brown and purple so far. I want to go purple a third time soon, but I'm also kind of wanting to finally try green. I'll probably only decide once I'm already asked at the salon.

27 - What’s your favourite Christmas movie? When was the last time you watched it? Love Actually. I've stopped my habit of watching it every Christmas, so the last time I saw it was around 3 or 4 years ago. It's A Wonderful Life is really good too, but I've seen it much less often.

28 - What’s your favourite brand and flavour of ice-cream or frozen yoghurt? I'm not a fan of froyo, but I do like cookies and cream ice cream!

29 - When was the last time you visited the dentist? Early August.

30 - What time do you consider to be too early to go to bed and to get up in the morning? When was the last time you went to bed/got up at those times? 11 PM would be too early for me; as for waking up in the morning, 6 AM will feel weirdly early – like it would make me go "why the hell am I up at this hour?" lol. I wake up at 6 AM pretty often, but I can't remember the last time I fell asleep before midnight.