#i. im speecheless

[madame-mongoose]

no matter what u doooo i only wanna be with uuuuuuu

hey i ac tualy almost threw up for real lookif at thjis im still trying to keep it down i. oh my god. okay. ydh okay

okay.

[lizzieicecreamqueen]

TW: Slight mentions of self harm and depression. HEARTSTOPPER SEASON 3 SPOILERS!

Alright so I finished heartstopper season 3 and omfggggggg def the best one! It was a total rollercoaster of emotions but i feel that that´s the reason i liked it so much, cause it expresses teen years perfectly. As a person that deals with sh and depression, the way its portrated on the show its just really beautiful. Alice and the whole cast did an amazing job. Im speecheless. I got to cry and laugh within less than 1 minute, and thats how life also feels like. I really enjoyed Michael aswell!!!!!!!! I giggled everytime he appeared on screen, hes my pookie frfr. And my baby Oliver 🥹🥹🥹 The only things that i didnt like are the fact that Sarah (nicks mum) isnt there and that we didnt get to see Tori coming out to Charlie. Mostly the last thing, it was a scene that i was really looking forward to :( I also wish the episodes had been a little longer/they would have added more eps cause some things were a bit overlooked. I mean, they fitted volume 4, 5 & This winter in 8 episodes of 30 mins each. But overall I really enjoyed it. I hope that when the 6th volume comes out we can get a fourth season with the contents of it + Nick & Charlie (●'◡'●)

[amaranthdahlia]

and they both have held onto that treasure ever since.

[jazzycasino]

I thought Star Wars couldn’t get any worse.,,,,

[curiousobjecthead]

h i.... your muse is super cool i cri...... thanks bye.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[emilycollins00]

*takes a deep breath*

Like the inside of your hoodie

Pairing: Tsuzuru Minagi x gn!reader | A3! Prompt: Feb 3rd – “Again with my clothes?” “They smell like you.” Event: Be my Valentine hosted by @xxsycamore and @chaosangel767 Rating: General C/W: fluff, a bit of angst (it turned more angsty than I intended to), relationship struggles and how they’re solved, honestly just explaining misunderstandings and showing your love for each other. Summary: You have been dating Tsuzuru for long enough to know his strong points and his vices, and yet, it still caught you off guard when he took even more writing upon him. Especially when you had made plans to meet. Word count: 2.323 A/N: This is my first entry for the event ^-^ I’m super excited to be participating!! Honestly, I’ve never looked forward to Valentine’s Day this much lol. I hope you can enjoy this <3 (and I hope the happy ending makes up for the angst, honestly I’m nervous about writing angst for a valentine’s event, but there’s a ton of love in here :c I promise).

*A3!EN news that the app will be deleted* my brain: you can't control what inspires me !! *starts writing more A3! Fanfiction*

Mankai’s timeline escapes my understanding so, let’s say this happens at some point after ACT 1 ?

You check the time on your phone once again before deciding to approach the dorms. Tsuzuru isn’t reading your texts, and it’s already 10 past the time you had agreed to meet. Shortly after ringing the doorbell, Muku appears timidly behind the door.

“Oh, I remember you! You’re Tsuzuru’s significant other!”

His choice of words surprises you. In just a second, your skin resembles his hair.

“Hi, um… Muku?” You’re unsure about whether you remember his name correctly. The few times you’ve been there, there are always so many people in the living room that the number of names to memorize floods your brain.

“Yes! I guess you’re here to see Tsuzuru?”

You nod and he realizes you’re still standing in the doorway, so he urges you inside. When he sees you’re not taking your shoes off, he pulls a pair of slippers from the cabinet.

“Here, please use this.”

“Oh, thank you but I don’t think I’ll be staying? Tsuzuru and I had plans to go out.”

Muku offers you a gentle smile.

“I think Tsuzuru was finishing the new script for the Spring troupe.”

Oh, no. Another one? You hadn’t heard anything of that.

“But it’s February?”

“If I remember correctly, he mentioned he wants to have the scripts extra early so they can do several plays per season.”

“And when was the deadline for that?”

“Um… I think there was no deadline this time? Because he was doing it early? The director said he should take it easy…”

You sigh. Tsuzuru, taking it easy? You’d like to see that, especially when it comes to writing. It seemed that the only thing that he took easy was your relatio- no. You had decided you wouldn’t have those thoughts.

“You can go to his room if you want.”

“Oh, isn’t… his roommate in?” For some reason, you can’t remember his name even if you’ve heard it a million times. Your brain is too busy worrying, so you decide to take off your shoes to distract yourself with something.

“He’s on the sofa now.” Muku laughs and signals with his head to the side. You peek from the entrance and see a familiar guy wearing headphones.

“Okay, I’ll… check up on Tsuzuru, then.”

“Good luck. Oh, and have fun with your date!”

You wave and thank him. You really need good luck, there aren’t great prospects. You head to Tsuzuru's room and knock a few times. The silence that greets you makes you say goodbye to the plans you had in your head.

After closing the door behind you, you sigh with relief when you see his figure laying down in bed. It’s an improvement from other times he’s passed out on the floor or on the desk, and you can be hopeful maybe that means he is done with the script. And he wasn’t just ignoring your messages on purpose.

You look around the room and see his laptop is still on, the screen black. With curiosity, you try moving the mouse and a document appears on the screen.

“The End”

So he really did it. He did it, and maybe, just maybe, it means that you’ll be able to spend more time with him from now on, even if it’s only a little bit. Even if it’s only till the next play, the next script. You can have this moment of joy, right?

Turning away from the computer – you don’t want to pry on the script, Tsuzuru will show it to you in due time – you move the chair slowly so as not to wake him up. Sitting down, you face his body on the bed. You’d like to say he sleeps like the angels after he is exhausted to death, but truth is, he doesn’t. You can see his eyes are half-open and he is snoring quite loudly. Sleep deprivation really does not suit him at all, and you wish that now that it seems he’ll have to be writing even more than before, he gets better habits.

Like replying to your texts and remembering when you’re meeting.

You look away, trying to shake those thoughts away. Everybody makes mistakes. You can bring it up when he’s conscious, but… you need to trust he isn’t doing it on purpose. You need to trust his feelings for you.

Leaning to one side, you lower your head until your cheek is buried in the blue hoodie that’s hanging from the back of the chair. His scent reaches your nose, and you close your eyes, breathing in. You suddenly feel the tension you didn’t know you were holding, float away. Without thinking, you take off your coat and jacket and slip his hoodie on. You raise the collar to your nose and feel a warmth that’s not caused by the fabric.

“Again with my clothes?” The sound of your clothes rustling must’ve woken him up.

The surprise of hearing Tsuzuru’s voice could’ve made you jolt, but you love his voice so much, a wave of affection washes over you. Finally, you’re hearing it. Your boyfriend’s voice.

“They smell like you,” you reply lowering the collar to its normal position. He is rubbing his entire face, trying to shoo the sleepiness away.

“You’re smiling.” When he points it out, you realize you indeed are smiling widely.

“Well, I’m going on a date with my boyfriend this evening.”

Tsuzuru drops his hands almost immediately, now fully awake. The face he is making is quite funny, but you’re glad it shows he didn’t remember, and he feels bad about it. It’s not an act, you know him enough for that.

“I’m so sorry, what time’s it? I’m sorry I made you wait and come to get me, I’m really – you must be so annoyed with me.”

“It’s not that late, only about 30 minutes late, and I got to see you asleep and to wear this hoodie… oh, and Muku called me your significant other.” You giggle a little, but you know your face doesn’t correspond with your words. It’s always like that.

“This is no way of treating… a significant other.” His voice loses its sharpness by the end of the sentence. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Actually, Tsuzuru, this isn’t the first time that’s happened.” You’re looking down and you can feel your heart is beating like crazy, but you know it is the right thing to do.

He doesn’t say anything, and you hear rustling. He takes your hands in his, and you force yourself to look at him. It feels like you can’t even move the muscles in your face, but at least you’re not crying.

“Will you please look at me?” His voice is soft, and you can feel his hands warming yours. You breathe deeply, trying to calm down, and look at him. “I’m so sorry, and I know saying sorry is not enough, and there are no excuses for being such a lame boyfriend.”

“But surely you must have reasons?” Your voice is so small it seems to belong to someone else and not you. You had been pushing down these feelings for so long, and now you don’t know what to do with them anymore.

Tsuzuru sighs and lets go of one of your hands in favour of rubbing his face again. He has just woken up and he is having this type of conversation. He is less prepared than he could be. Not that he would ever be prepared to have trouble with you.

“I thought I had set an alarm.” He starts, not looking at you. “I… I wanted to finish the script early, and I did, and then I was just going to rest for a bit and go out with you and be able to pay full attention to you, but now…”

“Tsuzuru, how many days have you worked through without real sleep?”

“Only three. Or four.” He looks at you like it’s not a big deal. He took naps, kinda.

You pick up his phone from the desk and easily unlock it using your fingerprint. As you thought, the first thing that appears on the screen is the alarm app.

“You must’ve slept through your alarms.”

“I’m sorr-”

“You could’ve just told me?”

“Told you?” He hides his free hand in his jean pocket.

“Yeah, we would’ve rescheduled, you could’ve slept for a day, and probably you would’ve also had time for eating something. You can’t survive just with protein bars for days, you know.” You pick up the stack of empty wrapping that’s next to the mouse and throw it into the bin.

“I didn’t want to reschedule.” He squeezes your hand, making you look at him.

“Why not?”

“Well… Valentine’s Day is around the corner and… I didn’t want to cause you any unnecessary worry. I wanted to show you you are my priority, and I messed up big time.”

“You could’ve still told me about the script. Maybe I could’ve just come and hung out with you, I don’t know. It’s not the first time we hang out together while you work.”

“…I don’t want you to get bored of me.” His voice is barely a whisper now, and his hand squeezes yours tighter.

“Why would I get bored of you?”

“I…well, you know how I get when I’m in the middle of a script. My brain just… everything can be ideas for it and then I just want to write them as fast as possible and theatre is all I talk about even if I’m with you or if we’re in the middle of a date, and we don’t even have that many opportunities to go on dates because I have my part-time job and rehearsals and- I don’t want you to get tired of all this, I don’t want to have less time for you, I don’t want to have to reschedule and-” He has been speaking without looking at you once. You reach for his face and cup his cheek.

“Tsuzuru, I know you, and I knew you were in theatre and that you wrote scripts before we even began dating. Yes, it’s true I never knew it could get this crazy while you’re in the middle of a script, but… You’re still you. In fact, you’re you for it. And now… I know you like the inside of your hoodie,” you say, trying to impress him with your choice of words, and trying to lighten the mood. He smiles a little and you also relax.

“Hey, how many times have you secretly worn this already?”

“Not enough times.” You hide your hands inside of the pocket. “I know you like this hoodie, and yet… sometimes I still find mysterious pockets suddenly appearing.”

“Well, I need to surprise you so you don’t get bored, right?”

“Again with this? Honestly, sometimes I wish you were less surprising.” You gently nudge him and he playfully falls backwards on the bed. Suddenly, one of the things he had said clicked in your mind. “Did you… did you try to finish the script faster than usual?”

“Well, of course. I wanted to meet with you, and give you my full attention. I told you. But… not just that.” He gets back up and looks at you. “I actually… wanted to show you some parts of the script.”

“Yeah? You’re happy with how it turned out?”

“Yes, but I also wanted to ask your thoughts on certain parts.”

You chuckle.

“Tsuzuru, I’m no professional. I’m not you.”

“Ah, I’m not a professional either.” He blushes a bit. “But your opinion is still important to me. I wanted… to write something that you would enjoy.” He looks away from you. “Since, you know… you always end up reading it… and you always come to watch our plays…”

Warmth begins to spread in your chest. You feel like laughing. What the hell had you been worrying about? It feels stupid now, like a nightmare you wake up from. And you love this reality.

“You’re incredible, Tsuzuru. I love you.”

“I love you too.” His smile gets bigger, and he giggles a little. “In fact, I think I love you more.”

“Eh? How dare you!” You jump from your seat to tumble on top of him, making him fall backwards again. Your arms twine around his neck, and he hugs you tightly while your bodies wiggle with laughter.

“I know you love me,” you whisper looking at him. “But sometimes… I wish I felt it instead of hearing it.”

“You have a way with words today, huh?” He closes the distance between your faces and brushes your noses together.

“Well, it must be your skill rubbing off on me.” You kiss him softly, melting a bit more in his arms. Now that the tension and worrying are over, you feel as if you’re floating. He returns the kiss, but before you can get lost in his warmth and sweetness, you break away.

“If rescheduling means you’ll take better care of yourself, I want you to reschedule next time. Or at least tell me what’s going on, please?” You place your arms on his chest, propelling yourself up to properly see his face.

“…I’ll tell you what’s going on. But I won’t reschedule.”

You pout but decide it’s good enough.

“Nap?” You suggest, seeing the dark circles under his eyes.

“Yes, please. I love napping with you.” You get off of him and entwine your legs with his. “But if you get bored, you have to wake me up.” If you can, Tsuzuru thinks.

“I won’t get bored, I can do this.” You move to gently peck his lips.

You stay so close, with a gentle move forwards and you’re both brushing your lips together. Your breaths mix together, and Tsuzuru caresses your hair with his eyes closed. This quiet proximity is bliss.

It’s not clear which one of you falls asleep first.

.

.

.

.

Likes/reblogs and comments are always highly appreciated <3

Please do NOT repost. Reblogging is okay. Content belongs to @moonstruck-writing

[honeybeenrw]

Caven is also dating someone else, so he found a girl for him.

So and i fall in Love with this Dress by @elfdor

and this fabulous Build is so amazing i am speecheless created @cross-design

@pralinesims please tell your sis, how much i love this build ❤❤❤ Ich war wie hypnotisiert als ich es im Game sah…liebe Grüsse und habt noch einen schönen Abend❤

[multifandomfreakshow]

Second-Hand Apology (Zach DempseyxFem!Reader)

Okay so, don’t hate me for this. But I started watching 13 Reasons Why, and I fell in love with Zach Dempsey fast & hard. Naturally, I started thinking about him. Then I started writing about him in a reader insert kinda way.... and now I have an actual fic. Because I’m in love with him. It isn’t as long as the other one’s I’ve written, but I had to get it out of my system. SO HERE IT IS KIDDIES I LOVE ZACH DEMPSEY AND IM NOT SORRY ABOUT IT. 

Let me know if y’all like it and want more 13 Reasons Why fics!

This fic is rated SFW!

Trigger Warnings: Sexual objectivity/ Sexual Harassment/ Bullying )

You felt nauseous.

Ever since yesterday afternoon, when you’d caught wind of a “Hot or Not” list about the girls in your grade. And you heard somewhere you were on it.

The following afternoon, when you saw just about every guy in the sophomore class crowded around Alex Standall’s locker, you felt like any minute you’d keel over and hurl. And when you decided to see what all the fuss was about, just about every guy let out a wolf whistle when they saw you, obviously staring you up and down. 

You felt a sour taste in your mouth over just how uncomfortable you felt, and when you shoved through everybody. Bryce, leaning next to Alex’s locker, had that predatory look on his face that always gave you chills. Justin was patting Alex’s back, Monty was cackling as he read them aloud. He seemed to notice your presence, though, and hesitated his reading with a smirk on his face. 

“What great timing, huh boys?” 

Bryce was staring you up and down, and Montgomery’s voice was resonating in your ears. “I’d say Alex got this dead on. ‘Best Tits - Y/N.’”

 The crowd of boys all heckled and laughed along with Justin, you noticed Zach Dempsey standing behind him with a weird look on his face.

 Bryce started towards you, “Gotta agree, bro.” Your legs were frozen in place, And your heart was pounding in your chest as his hands slipped up the outline of your hips, waist, to the sides of your bust, “Really a… work of art. What’d you eat to get so-“ His hands made contact there, the heels of his hands pressing against the sides of your bosom firmly, “filled in?”

 There was an outcry of ‘Hell yeah!’s and ‘Daaaamn’s and you felt like the world was closing in on you. Bryce’s eyes were staring down at you so coldly, devoid of anything but wolfish lust, and it was enough for you to throw your hands out and shove his chest. He took a step or two back, a confident smile on his face. You were speecheless, frantically looking around to see a sea of eager eyes staring straight at your chest, smug smirks, small chuckles under breaths. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you all?” You managed, your hands shaking. Marcus slipped past you, casually brushing his hand against your ass, giving Alex a high-five when he reached him, “Hell yeah, man! Nice fuckin’ job, you made some good calls.” You were staring at Alex, and he was avoiding your gaze.

“S’a compliment, babe, don’t be so seeerious.” Justin sneered, gesturing to you when he drew out the “e”. Bryce clapped his hand onto Justin’s shoulder, his eyebrows cocked cruelly, “Yeah, let off some steam, maybe you’d get a lil cooler without your shirt on.” 

The crowd of guys let out a loud cloud of agreement, and when you whipped around to stare at them all with wide eyes, you even noticed a few girls at the edge of the crowd regarding you judgementally. 

Soon enough, the boys were chanting, “Take it off! Take it off!” 

The walls were closing in, and your vision was clouding, and once again you felt someone brush the side of your bust with a hand. You slapped at it, letting out a choked cry, “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” 

The crowd only seemed to laugh harder. You wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand and you glared at Alex. 

“Fuck you, Alex. What the hell did I ever fucking do to you?”

He was silent for a second, but with Bryce egging him on with elbow nudges and Justin waiting for his retort, he plastered on a smile with a confidence you could see right through and mumbled back. “Your fault for flaunting your tits all the time.” 

Once more, the bark of laughter hit your ear drums like a clap of thunder. Your eyes were tearing again, and you glared down the line of Marcus, Bryce, then Justin, then Alex. Your gaze shifted to Zach, who was staring at the ground. Then, as violently as you could, you shoved back through the crowd of assholes that teased you and pulled at your bra straps until you started running down the hall. 

Tears were streaming down your face by now, and it seemed every guy you ran by gave you that same disgusting leer and every girl looked at you condescendingly. It was getting hard to breathe, and you were lucky enough to find an empty classroom down a relatively quiet hallway. You shoved the door open and then closed it behind you, stumbling to the teacher’s desk and planting your hands there. 

You were blubbering quietly, hoping not to call any attention to yourself. The last thing you wanted was Porter finding you and prodding you until you snapped and got yourself suspended. But it was too hard to hold in, and your sobs echoed in the darkened room only to make it feel like the walls were closing in. Your legs gave out from under you and you fell to your knees. Curling up against the base of the desk, you cried quietly into your hands. 

What had you done to deserve that kind of harassment? You kept to your group of friends most of the time, you were kind to just about everyone in school, even polite to assholes like Bryce and Justin. But still, somehow, the universe decided to bite you in the ass. You knew this list wouldn’t blow over quickly, and guys would keep making comments that made your skin crawl. You felt slimy, and disgusting, and the tears wouldn’t seem to stop.

 The bell rang, but you were fairly sure there was no class this room during this period. However, as you sat quietly crying to yourself, you noticed a silhouette on the other side of the door and tensed when the door knob turned. You tried your best to wipe all the tears from your face as if it would make you look normal despite the definite red and puffiness of your eyes.

Judging by the large height of the person, you could assume it was a guy and you prayed you wouldn’t have to fight off a creep. However, as the door slowly opened, you were surprised to see Zach Dempsey was the one pushing it. Immediately, you straightened up against the desk and growled at him. “If you’re here to fucking harrass me, save it because I’ll rip off your fucking-“ 

He threw his hands up defensively after he closed the door behind him. “Woah, calm down. I’m not here to piss you off, I swear.” Even if the dark, your eyes traced over the lines of his face from where you were sitting.

 “So why are you here?” You ventured in a hoarse voice, sniffling, and slowly rising to your feet. He walked from the closed door, past you, to sit on the side of the teacher’s desk farthest from you. He wouldn’t seem to look at you, instead his gaze was fixed on the door and he shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I uh… I just wanted to see where you went. Make sure you were okay after all of that.” Hesitantly, you hopped onto the desk next to him with a distance between you two. His answer ticked you off. 

“Why care now? You didn’t say anything while all those dicks were groping me.” You muttered, wiping a stray tear from your cheek just after it had fallen from your eye. Zach hazarded a look then, at your face, and when your eyes met he awkwardly looked back down to his lap. “I’m sorry about them. Yeah, they’re my friends but they can be real assholes when they want to be.” 

You rolled your eyes and rubbed your upper arms. “Tell me about it.”

There was idle laughter outside the door as a few girls passed, and you clearly hear what they were laughing about. “Did you see it? She ran away crying like a baby. It’s just a fucking list!” 

There was a pang in your chest, and Zach shifted on the desk next to you. There was a stiff silence between the two of you until he spoke again, quietly, but you noticed he was facing you now. Slowly, you turned your body to look at him too. 

“They’re wrong. About that. Alex never should’ve written that list. And you don’t deserve guys grabbing you all the time.” His face indicated that he was being genuine, and he even looked a little bit remorseful. You noted his handsome features, and wondered why he bothered taking the time out of his “popular person” agenda to apologize to you. You kept your eyes on his as long as you could, the let them fall onto the desk between the two of you.

“If they’re your friends, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be, like, laughing along with them?” He shifted uncomfortably, then stood up as if he was getting restless from sitting.

His hands clasped behind his head and paced around before stopping in front of you and dropping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Because I’m not, like, that big of an asshole like they are? You probably don’t believe me, I’m with them all the time, but I’m not like them like that, Y/N. They look at you and they see an awesome rack,” You scowled just a little bit, but he scrambled to save himself, “O-Or they look at Hannah Baker and see a really nice ass, but they don’t see that those girls on that list are people and that’s really fucked up. It’s a game to them, but when…” 

Zach took a breath, running his fingers through his hair. His eyes were pained as he stared back at you, and his voice was quiet and sincere. “Just now, when you ran away in tears.. that’s not a game. That’s not funny, and they’re pricks for laughing about it. And I’m sorry they hurt you like that… and that I didn’t tell them to fucking quit it.” 

The silence afterwards was making him shift where he stood, but you were at a loss for what to say back to him. You never expected that to come from him. He was right, that you saw him and expected him to be as much of a dick as his friends. But he wasn’t lying, you could tell in his eyes just how badly he wanted you to believe him. He was risking something by going out of his way to comfort you, and you realized then that you weren’t crying anymore. You mimicked his actions, running your fingers through your hair to smooth it out. Zach looked at you expectantly. 

“I believe you.” You murmured finally. 

Relief washed over his face, and it made you crack a bit of a smile. That seemed to make him happy, and he grew a soft half smile. Your chest tightened. He really was handsome, even in this hardly lit classroom. 

You swung your legs over the side of the teacher’s desk and murmured kindly, “Thank you, Zach. Really.” You laughed a tiny bit, “If you didn’t come along, I’d probably still be crying on the floor.”

His lips pursed into a line, and he looked sympathetic.

You looked at him curiously. “What class are you missing for this?”

 He stopped to ponder it, and his face fell when he came to the realization. “Oh fuck… bio. Shit!” 

You felt a tinge guilty, but smiled empathetically. “Sorry. But I do have to say I’m honored you’re missing such an important class for me.” 

Once again, his face shifted into a lopsided grin, and he took just a bit of a step closer to you. You could smell his cologne. He looked at you bashfully, “You’re worth it.” 

You bit your lip as your smile grew into a grin, “So are you going to go back to class? I’d hate for you to miss any more than you have to. And you’ve already helped out a ton, I feel way better.” 

Zach pulled his phone out of his pocket and clicked the home button. His nose wrinkled. “It’s like, the middle of class. Doesn’t make sense to go now.” 

The silence came back again, and you slowly slid back to your feet so you were standing in front of him. There was still an acceptable distance between you two, and you crossed your arms loosely over your chest. “Well, what, are we just gonna keep standing in the dark here?” You joked.

He scoffed as he tapped away on his phone, you assumed he was replying to a text message, “Well, we could do that. Or…” He looked up from his phone, “We could go do something else. We have what, an hour and a half left today? What do you say we ditch and go do something fun?” He had one brow perked, waiting for your response. 

Sarcastically, you perked a brow right back and put your hands on your hips. “Zach Dempsey wants to miss school just to hang out with Y/N? This is wild.” 

He chuckled and shifted his weight to one leg to lightly kick your shoe with this, “Yeah, yeah, I’m a school nerd, I get it. Y’wanna go do something or not?” 

You weighed your choices in your mind. You could stay in this dark room, all alone, until the bell rang to sit through the rest of the school day. You could wait around in class, wondering why you were dumb enough to turn down hanging with Zach Dempsey. 

Or… you could ditch this prison building full of idiots, get to know Zach and maybe even… 

You reached up boldly to prod the middle of his muscled chest with your index finger, “Show me a good time, basketball star.” 

He laughed and grabbed your hand from there, pulling you towards the door. His hand was so warm… You squeezed it, and scurried along next to him into the hallway. 

The two of you peeked out, making sure no teachers were there to catch you, and you hurried to the nearest exit. You hopped onto his Audi and drove off to your date with Zach Dempsey.

[jeongi]

LINDS PLS IVE BEEN DAMN CACKLING TO MARS FOR THE LAST 30 MINUTES EVERUTHING HURTS OH MU GOD 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

nobody:

nix ( @bangtansfiction ) : hey did you know im a gemini and my favorite serial killer jeffery dahmer is also a gemini and i thought it was fascinating how he killed 15 people and you never knew but geminis arent bad and i-

[michpdge]

Im speecheless, I love this too much

Love Stories

Prompt:  what would happen if an absolutely hammered Aziraphale drunk-Summoned Crowley?

Crowley goes too slow, Aziraphale drinks copious amounts of alcohol, and a bookshop is (very nearly) set on fire. Again. 

Love Stories

In a book, a story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. When the last ink has spilled, and the page continues on white and blank, it is over. Finished. Done. All that remains is the closing of the book - when one, with a sense of finality, presses the hard front and back together, sealing words and ink within.

Life is not like stories, or books.

You might, perhaps, go on an adventure. Defeat your enemies. Maybe even fall in love. But unlike the stories, there is no neatly printed “happily ever after,” and the book does not close; rather, life simply…goes on. 

After the world had definitively not ended, and Aziraphale and Crowley had, against all odds, avoided destruction at the hands of their respective employers - they’d gone to lunch. There, they’d shared a lovely meal while talking and laughing, their hands resting on the table, a delicate two inches apart. 

They’d finished the meal and strolled out to the Bentley which waited, as if summoned, one tire carelessly perched on the curb. 

Crowley had driven Aziraphale home. 

Outside Aziraphale’s shop, a heavy, awkward silence had descended on the vehicle. Crowley’s fingers were drumming a nervous rhythm on the wheel; and Aziraphale, crushed beneath the impossible weight of six thousand years worth of unspoken sentiment, felt as though a vise was constricting his chest. Because after all that time, how did one even begin going about saying - saying -

At the time, he couldn’t think it, let alone say it.

The angel had stammered, filling the rigid silence with shallow, vague promises.

They’d talk on the phone. Really, they should do lunch again. When? Soon. Very soon. 

After, the silence had, impossibly, grown heavier. Aziraphale, manicured fingers curling over his knees, had looked to Crowley, wanting from the demon something he didn’t know how to begin to ask for.

Because Crowley had said it already - through actions, admittedly, more often than words. But perhaps - maybe that would be enough. It needn’t be anything grand. Something - anything that Aziraphale might use to drag himself out of these depths, to draw in just one single breath of air; enough to wrap-his mind around how to set about feeling out the shape of the words on his lips.

Crowley’s fingers squeezed the steering wheel, and Aziraphale had watched his knuckles pale in the dim light. 

Crowley had tilted his head, a carefree smile pasted crudely on his face and said, “Sure angel. Lunch sounds great.”

Aziraphale exited the car.

Crowley drove away.

And that was that.

The last period, black as a bullet, has marked the text. The rest of the page is white and blank.

It has been two week since Aziraphale got out of Crowley’s car. The story has ended, and yet, inexplicably, life goes on.

Crowley hasn’t visited. And he’s yet to call. Aziraphale sometimes worries, fear tickling the back of his mind as he painstakingly re-orders the bookshop Adam resurrected, that something could have happened to him. That Heaven or Hell have gone after him. 

After the initial spike of fear, the worry usually fades. 

Nothing has happened to Crowley. 

Aziraphale can’t explain how he knows. But he does. It’s a feeling as sure and solid as the leather-bound book in his palms. He would know if something had happened to Crowley. He’s sure of it.

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