#posting for the first time in a million years just for boops | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pomefioredove · 9 months ago

Note

Can we have more of snuggles for hire please?! > <

YES always. I need more cuddle content

part one (leona, tweels, vil)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ snuggles for hire (encore)

summary: first years try helping you out with your touch-starved problem type of post: blurbs characters: rook, idia, silver additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, rook is rook as usual

"Really? That's it?" Ace scoffs.

"So, they haven't been hugged in a while. Okay? Neither has Deuce,"

Deuce glares. It's almost menacing. "That's not true, and you know it! I get lots of hugs every time I visit home!"

"I do, too. But that's just the thing, though, ain't it?" Epel says. "They don't have no home to get hugs from."

The huddle of first years goes quiet. Some days, you become such a part of their world, they forget you're really not from it.

"...Okay, point taken," Ace sighs. "But they have Grim! And he only stinks like, half the time!"

"If memory serves, Grim usually sleeps on the floor..." Epel says. "Poor prefect, all lonely. Now even their sleep is suffering 'cause of it!"

Jack rubs the back of his neck. "It must be tough, not having anything to look forward to,"

Another melancholy silence. Finally, Ace stands, hands on his hips.

"Well, let's do something about it, then. There are tons of boys at this school- one of them should be willing to help,"

You were slouched over your desk, dozing off over an essay you hadn't even started yet, when your door flies open.

"Prefect!" Epel shouts, his eyes wide with panic. Immediately, dread sets in. Had someone else overblotted? Was Grim in trouble?

"I'm sorry! I was looking for Vil, but he found me first!"

Huh? "What do you mean b-"

"Oh, Trickster~!"

That question answers itself. In a blink, Epel is gone, bolting before he could get dragged into this. Rook lets himself in, smiling as if he'd just won a million thaumarks.

"Ah, there you are~! I have been waiting for your call!"

You blink. "...Hi, Rook. What?"

He slides his hands under your arms, and lifts you like a cat. You remind yourself that he's much stronger than he looks.

"How my heart ached, watching you suffer! But I had to be patient- I had to wait for your call, Trickster! And when I heard Monsieur Pommette was looking for someone to come to your aid... I knew it had to be me!"

Rook sits you in his lap, squeezing you as if you were a small, cute animal. Which, to him, you sort of were. "Now, rest. I will comfort you!"

"Rook," you say, smothered in his arms, "This really isn't necessary."

"For your health, it is," he boops your nose. "Bonne nuit, mon ange."

With the way he's cooing and cuddling you so closely to him, you know there's no getting out of this.

...Not that you're complaining. He's right, after all. And you're really just grateful that he decided to break in while you were awake.

You're still going to have to kick Epel's butt for it, anyway.

"I already told you, I don't have a problem,"

Ortho Shroud beeps at you. "Incorrect. Your hormonal levels and kinesics indicate you've been sleeping poorly," he says. "...And the other first years were talking about it."

Of course, you sigh. Ace and Deuce. "It's not that bad,"

"Then perhaps you would be interested in solving another problem?"

He brings you down a long, cold hallway, and stops at a door. You hadn't been inside Ignihyde before, but with all the tech stuff, you figure there's some kind of freaky sleep machine in there.

You raise an eyebrow. "I dunno. The technology here is pretty weird,"

"Not that kind of problem!" Ortho opens the door with a giggle. "Idia, look who's here!"

To your surprise (horror? delight?) there's no sleep machine. Just one wide-eyed, blushing, terrified Idia Shroud.

By the look on his face, you can tell he knows just as much about this as you do. He and Ortho exchange glances, having an entire silent conversation while you awkwardly stand in the doorway.

Finally, Ortho looks at you: "Idy has been having similar troubles with sleeping,"

"Ortho-"

"I thought you might be able to help each other!"

Idia looks about ready to crawl under his bed and hide. You look between the two.

"Is he okay?"

"Oh, don't worry! He always gets nervous around pretty people!"

He makes a noise like a deflating balloon. Ortho giggles. "I'll see you later!"

He leaves, and a whir and a thump follow him. You stare. "He took the door knob,"

Despite all the awkward staring and blushing and groaning, you end up in the same bed, anyway, lost in a tangle of limbs that is somehow both awkward and comfortable. Idia is a lot warmer than he looks. And a very, very clingy sleeper.

You'll both lament about how terrible it was to Ortho in the morning, and you'll both leave out the fact that if it really were so terrible, one of you could've just slept on the floor.

But... you didn't. And you won't tomorrow night, either.

When you told your friends you'd been summoned to Diasomnia, they looked at you as if you'd just said your exact time and place of death.

Ace and Deuce whisper-shouted something about "not telling him", but you didn't ask. You weren't worried about Malleus, after all.

...Except that the person waiting for you in the lounge isn't Malleus.

"Oh... hey, Silver. Did you...?"

You hold up the summons, and he nods. The way he's avoiding your eyes is almost... shy. Bashful.

"Sebek came back from class yesterday yelling about you... he made it sound like you were dying," Silver says, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"...But if it's just insomnia, I can help."

You blink. "Oh... I appreciate it, but..."

...You can't bring yourself to finish that sentence. He just looks... tense. This isn't exactly an offer he makes to most, after all.

You're just special.

And you need that.

You sit beside him in comfortable silence. The lights in the Diasomnia lounge are already dim, and it's as quiet and solemn as ever. Silver guides you into a soft position against him, your head on his shoulder, his head on yours, his arm around you, and he falls asleep.

Maybe it's just the exhaustion finally catching up to you, but it's surprisingly easy to follow his lead and fall asleep against him.

You dream of him that night.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rook hunt x reader #idia shroud x reader #silver x reader #queued

2K notes · View notes

messrmoonyy · 1 year ago

Note

Messrmoonyy, I don't even know how it flew by so fast, but it's officially been a year since I started reading your fics. And throughout this year I experienced so much through your work, so i’m here to say a big Thank you!

Reading your writings is truly a magical experience. I always immerse myself completely in your words, they’re like my secret portal which takes me to another universe. I found comfort in them, i laughed, cried on a bathroom floor, was rolling around the bed while screaming and biting mi fist… I've been to Jackson, Boston, Lincoln and wherever you took me, Messr. You’ve been feeding my lust for Tess for a whole ass year now and I’ve read every single one fic from your Tess masterlist several times and absolutely loved and devoured every word of each. Pure talent and perfection. I admire you, your creativity and ability to breathe life into your writing, your kindness and helpfulness. You were actually the first person I read my first fic from and i was blown away as your writings are seriously better than many published books i have read. Since then, I can't remember a single day where I haven't checked your page. I’m thankful for all the excitement when you posted something, for counting down the days till the next week’s upload, even my destroyed sleep schedule and sobbing into the pillow uncontrollably (yes, i’m talking about 5+1 which i’ll never recover from i decided) and endless rambling to my friend about how much i loved everything about your fics. Your talent is truly remarkable and phenomenal and i’ll never shut up about it. You’ve inspired me so much, you’ve evoked strong emotions, thoughts in me, ignited my imagination through your words and kept my obsession with Tess alive. It’s been a rollercoaster of emotions thanks to you, and for all that I owe you an incredible and huge thank you. So thank you so much for everything Messrmoonyy, I hope you know that even through your writing you are so so loved and aprecciated (all over the world i belive, i’m from Slovakia so also my english might not be perfect) and I wish you a wonderful day filled with joy and happiness, i love you! 💗💗💗

Plus i’m sending you pics of Tessa, look how she’s grown!!🤗

IM GONNA CRY WTF MAN 😭😭🫶🏻

I literally don’t even know what to say to this, you are so unbelievably kind thank you so so much. Honestly I always look forward to your feedback on everything I upload you have always been so incredibly supportive of anything I put out and it doesn’t go unnoticed I assure you. You are an angel.

I honestly can’t believe today is a year since I posted my first Tess post and I’m so thankful for everyone who’s come along with the journey and watched me improve and grow and fall into my own style. My number one goal is always to try and make people feel things, to be able to even just escape for a little while. And I’m so glad it comes across.

I honestly just don’t even know what to say I’m seriously gonna cry and re read this ask a million times over. Just thank you so so so much, for your kind words always and just cheering me on with every single thing I upload🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

And give your sweet baby lots of pets and nose boops from me.

#ask #reader feedback #gonna go cry now bye

2 notes · View notes

traeuthaeou · 12 days ago

Text

YOU WILL STOP PRETENDING TO BE PROFESSOR HAWKINS , WHY YOU SAY MY NAME AND THESE WORDS FOR ME TO QUOTE YOU.. PRE TEND INTEND POST TEND LEVEL OF EDUCATION HOPKINS

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

May 30, 2025

0 no

Johns Hopkins Carey Business School

Business school in Baltimore, Maryland

Website

Directions

Reviews

Save

Call

Description

The Johns Hopkins Carey Business School is the graduate business school of Johns Hopkins University, a private research university in Baltimore, Maryland. It was established in 2007 and offers full-time and part-time programs leading to the Master of Business Administration and Master of Science degrees. Wikipedia

Located in: Legg Mason Investments (Division of Franklin Templeton)

Address: 100 International Drive, Baltimore, MD 21202

Undergraduate tuition and fees: 42,000 USD (2013 – 14)

Founded: 2007

Endowment: More than $50 million

Campus: Urban

Application fee: $100.00 jhu.edu

School types: Business school, Private school

Parent institution: Johns Hopkins University

Phone: (410) 234-9220

Founder Terry.

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr.

traeuthaeou

ALLAHTREU TREUALLAH TRUE SCRAMBLED LANGUAGEOLOGIST

Founder Terry.

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr

Blaze

Johns Hopkins Homewood Neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland The prestigious and sprawling Johns Hopkins University campus in Homewood is home to tree-lined paths, traditional redbrick architecture, and a landmark clock tower. The campus features the Shriver Hall Concert Series and the Baltimore Museum of Art, as well as popular Wyman Park, Wyman Park Dell, and Stony Run Trail. The surrounding area has many taverns and casual eateries popular with students.

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling blessed with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 3 mins · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling blessed with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 11 mins · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling professional with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 1 min · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins 4 mins · RAVENDOVE Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins was RavenDove - yin yin / yang RavenDove - yin yin / yang - COLD NUMB AND (LOVIEY DOVIEY) CALCULATED SPELL IT D or L Dove or Love maybe L or D Lover or Dover pythagorean numerology ABC123 Kauffman-Hawkins-Hawk or Hopk -H__kins aw or op and Hopkins signed Booper or just Boop not Book BUT LOKI OR BOOPER SAN with Blaze Pascal. with Terry Lee Hawkins ( male ) @ikigami shinigam HAWKINS HOKINSU/HOKINZU https://www.facebook.com/notes/terry-lee-kauffman-hawkins/bac-formula-racing-f3-series-bac-mission-statement/2296158727310875/ — feeling professional with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. YES=Y=YES / NO=N=NO

Blaze

India, officially the Republic of India, is a country in South Asia. It is the seventh-largest country by area; the most populous country from June 2023 onwards; and since its independence in 1947, the world's most populous democracy. Wikipedia

Blaze

Johns Hopkins Homewood

Neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland

Blaze

traeuthaeou

5m ago

YORK OR WORK HOSPITAL Y LETTER 15 W LETTER 23

The University of Maryland, Baltimore is a public university in Baltimore, Maryland, United States. Founded in 1807, it is the second oldest college in Maryland and comprises some of the oldest professional schools of dentistry, law, medicine, pharmacy, social work and nursing in the United States. Wikipedia

Avg cost after aid

––

Graduation rate

95%

Acceptance rate

––Graduation rate is for non-first-time, full-time undergraduate students who graduated within 6 years. They were the largest group of students (75%) according to the 2022–23 College Scorecard data ·more

From US Dept of Education · Learn more

Address:

620 W Lexington St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Address: 620 W Lexington St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Phone: (410) 706-3100

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

traeuthaeou

2m ago

ALLAH STEP ONE .. GOD TO ALL THOSE PEOPLE NOT A TWELVE STEP LETTER A TO L PROGRAM AT JOHNS HOPKINS AND GOD OR DOG . CHIP HOUSE HUOJINSEN YOU AN ADULT I AM REPORTING TO YOU. H O U S E - H U O J I N S E N . HAWKINGSON TERRY LEE - SOBRIQUET BOOPER BOOPPER THEOS LOKI TEREMY

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

is with

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr.

May 9 at 4:48 PM

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Enoch Pratt Free Library

4.6301 Google reviews

Public library in Baltimore, Maryland

Website

Directions

Reviews

Save

Call

Description

The Enoch Pratt Free Library is the free public library system of Baltimore, Maryland. Its Central Library is located on 400 Cathedral Street and occupies the northeastern three quarters of a city block ... Wikipedia

Departments: Maryland State Library for the Blind and Print Disabled

Address: 400 Cathedral St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Architect: Edward Lippincott Tilton

Hours:

Open ⋅ Closes 8 PM · More hours

Opened: 1882

Phone: (410) 396-5430

Branches: 22

Director: Chad Helton, President and CEO

Johns Hopkins Homewood

Neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

1 note

Blaze

0 notes

64.media.tumblr.com

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

madsims4finds · 1 month ago

Text

Boop!

Ain’t been on here in a min but damn! So many notes on my posts. Shout out to yall!

Sooo InZoi… I have thoughts.

Really just one thought. Something that I said in an older post too but I think I was talking about Life By You.

Early Access.

I was cool with it at first cause I figure, oh they’re probably not that big a studio. They’re gonna need help. Then found out about the PubG and MMO bit that we all know now. And then we actually got InZoi and I was like, yeah no. Why couldn’t yall cook for longer? So much potential, yes. A lot of things I’ve seen in people’s play throughs that I liked. But let’s be real, it was a lot of hype for little pay off. The game is way more underdeveloped than I thought it would be.

Im honestly starting to get tired of this. Early access is great for small studios and especially single person developers. But when you’re a big studio, with a big budget, releasing early access games, it gets a big sigh out of me. They hide behind, we’re just trying to gather player feedback, but honestly you’re never going to please everyone. Just make the game you want to make and hope for the best. The players shouldn’t have to hold your hand through the process. Asking for ideas if you need them, sure. Having people vote on a few things, I get it. But there are literal years worth of comments from simmers complaining about what’s not in the game or what they would want from a life sim that the InZoi team could have researched through. So what’s the point of early access other than to get people to pay regular price for a game that is half baked?

Everyone is so money focused that it’s killing creativity. Devs from other studios out here sounding like EA with this expectation for people to pay $80 for games. I’m actually enjoying the resurgence of games that look “old” or “outdated graphics” but phenomenal gameplay and story with $30-$40 price tags. I can even do $60 for a AAA. But not everything has to be UNREAL ENGINE 25 (I’m screaming in sarcasm) and we really don’t need to have million and billion dollar budgets for video games. No wonder they’re so terrified about a game flopping. But newsflash, games and movies are not the same. With everything that has to happen and the many people who have to come together to make a live action film, the million dollar budgets are warranted.

But in the gaming world, you really don’t NEED all that to make a game. So trying to justify selling a game for $80 because you did a bunch of extra shit you didn’t have to do is not enough to convince me to part with my $80. Hell movie tickets are still way cheaper.

And maybe it’s just me but I got games rotting in PlayStation cloud heaven right now. Shit I forgot I even had. Why sink so much money into a medium like that? And sure now the goal is to make games more like movies you can live in but eh…it’s getting all too Ready Player One for me. I love to escape into games but I also don’t need them taking over my whole life, Mr. Kojima. How about no, I don’t want a game that somewhat punishes me for not being on it all the time.

That was a tangent more about games in general than InZoi. My bad.

My point is I wish the InZoi team would have stayed in the kitchen waaaaay longer. Early access is cool if the game is mostly finished and they just want feedback for the last touches, but at this point, it feels like they’re tryna get the players to help develop the game for them. Like literally gave us the bare minimum foundation, looked up and said ‘now what else do you want again?’

But that’s literally their job! I’m just here to play the game dude. Not tell you how to make it.

I’m a creative myself. I write. And I utilize beta readers and all that. But I don’t ask them what to write. I don’t ask them what should this character do. Or where I should go with this scene. I write what I want and then I get their thoughts.

I think that’s more along the lines of what Paralives is doing and honestly, I have more faith in that team than any other to give us a modern life sim that is somewhat similar to the sims…bars? 😅

Hopefully InZoi gets better but I sure wish they had put in more work before releasing it. All that money they spent on buying new computers for players to review their game could have went on actually developing the game!

There’s my two cents.

#sims 4 #ts4 #life sims #paralives #inzoi #sims4 #lifesimgames

1 note · View note

goldemas1244 · 4 years ago

Note

Heyyyy I have a question :3

Do you have any headcanon/s for these character : Scraptrap, Scrap Baby, Lady Dimistrecu, the three daughter of Lady D, Heisenberg and/or Molten Freddy ? :3

You don't have to do all the proposition, you can choose what character you want to do :3

Have a good day/evening and stay safe ! :3

*Cracks knuckles* \(^v^)/

You already know I'm doing all of them! Thank you for the ask! Headcanons under the cut!

FNaF6

Scraptrap

He loves rice and would do anything to get his paws on it. Fortunately, the pizzeria is quite close to a Chinese restaurant so rice is easy to get.

He orders a rice-based menu at least three times a week, so the owners aren't at all that surprised to see a tuxedo-clad zombie-rabbit come in and ask for their signature fried rice with buttered lobster on the side.

Since he like to dine-in there, he usually asks Michael to give him a bath in exchange for pizzeria improvements. Michael usually shrugs and gives him a well-deserved bubble bath and his tuxedo.

He likes it when Michael gives him head pats and rubs. It makes him feel loved and appreciated.

He has a pet pigeon named Fernando Buschmann. It's German and likes to listen to the violin.

He likes ASMR and memes. ASMR makes him go feral with murderous intent while memes make him question the modern generation.

He has social media accounts, all named "Willton-Moldover". He usually posts cosplays and furry art on them and has 93 followers on his Reddit profile, 1.5 million followers on his Instagram, 550 followers on his Tumblr, 35 on his Snapchat, and 3.95 million on his TikTok.

He also has a YouTube channel with 10.784 million subscribers called "Willton-Gameover". He plays videogames one-handed and roasts popular YouTubers and famous people. He would never roast Keanu Reeves though, because Keanu Reeves is precious bean.

Due to his popularity he gets a lot of hate mail and private pics. He doesn't like them at all so he blackmails the people who post them. And if the media and police are involved? Well, he has a strong fanbase that's not going down as well as a good alibi so that works out well for him.

Yes, his fanbase also knows of the Fazbear Murders, and he admits to it but frankly, he's shown them the approving ghost kids (who've bonded and gamed with him) so that's no big deal. Only Cassidy hates him, but it's usually constipated anger.

He's bisexual and has an ENORMOUS crush on one of his favourite game characters, Karl Heisenberg. Something about that man reminds him of himself and Henry, although he's not sure what. Still, don't let that distract you from the fact that he owns a nude Karl Heisenberg body pillow, CAPCOM official.

Scrap Baby

Her favourite Monster High doll is Draculaura. She doesn't understand how pink goes well with black but oh boy, pink goes so well with black.

She knows how to skateboard like a pro. Despite her weight, her trusty skateboard still stands and, if she falls, she's always got her skates to spare. She likes to impress the boys at the skatepark with her ability to perform even the most difficult of moves with ease.

She's subscribed to fifteen different tabloid subscriptions. She likes to read them and criticize the stupidity of the human race, like her father. Hey, it's hereditary.

The lights in her boobies glow in the dark. They also glow whenever she gets tired.

She likes reading furniture and gardening catalogues. She's judgy of the prices though and usually becomes a full-on critic with Lefty listening.

She owns a crab named Mr. Tootie. No I will not elaborate on the name. I'll only tell you that it's taken a liking to kazoos and party favours.

She's listed as the No. 1 Best Fan of her father's social media accounts. Michael's in nineteenth place but don't worry, he's as emotionless as a mushroom.

She likes to make origami lotuses. She's such a pro at it that she's even got a mini-stall at the pizzeria: 1 lotus for 50 cents. It's a lucrative business, and it's still growing. Oh, and she switches to other origami works of art every week such as origami guns and origami nine-tailed foxes.

She's the Restaurant Rescue manager. Usually she saves kids from trouble. For this reason, yes, she's commonly seen in the pizzeria itself. Kids love her though the claw worries the more irksome parents.

She's a professional Karen dealer. Karen comes to see the manager? She's hypnotically talented in weaving her words through the toughest of craniums so don't be surprised if a Karen walks out with a new viewpoint of life.

She performs on stage on the occasion, which usually gets her a lot of fan love. She cherishes everything good they give but ignores the problematic everythings. Problematic stuff? Oh, she's good friends with the police chief.

Molten Freddy

He loves noodles. Give him a bowl of ramen and he'll shut up for the entire night. Enter him in a noodle-eating competition and his high metabolism rate means absolutely non-stop spaghetti.

He misses Bon-Bon very much. To the point where he's even tried to make a scrap version of him. Sadly, it doesn't work. He cried that day.

He dies inside whenever he finds out there's a spaghetti shortage in Utah. Poor Molten.

He's a bit wonky, but if he tries to play with you or get into your personal space, don't get mad at him! He's just lonely and wants someone to talk to and play with.

He likes to play Exploding Kittens. It's the only card game he's good at. It's also the only card game he owns.

He sees Helpy as a little brother and boops his nose on a daily basis. He also likes to reenact The Lion King with him (It's the ciiiiiircle of liiiiiife~). Hopefully Helpy doesn't mind.

He knows a lot of jokes in a lot of languages. So German-speaking Molten Freddy wouldn't be too far away from expectation. His favourite jokes are in French though; the wordplay is just immaculate.

He's good in French, English, German, Russian, and Malay. He's currently learning Japanese because he's a mega weeb.

His favourite cartoon is Charlie and Lola. He just likes to see the sibling shenanigans as it somehow reminds him of the good old days.

His favourite shows would be prankster shows. He especially loves the ones that give him new and creative ideas. He doesn't like the scary ones though. They make him feel unsafe and give him anxiety.

Surprisingly, he has a distinct taste for opera. He can modulate the remnants of his voice box to perfectly sing I Am The Very Model Of A Modern Major-General. This both pisses off and impresses Henry to an extent.

Resident Evil 8

Lady Dimitrescu

She might act like the opposite but she really loves Heisenberg as her little brother. His determination, strength, speed, dexterity, and workaholic nature impresses her, who can't even fit through a doorway. She sometimes wishes she's as short as him too.

She's an avid collector of glass, porcelain, and anything fragile. It's a good reason to always be careful where you tread in her lair. She'll make you swallow every last shard if you don't.

She's an avid romance fanatic and is very loving towards the romance novels she owns. All those books you see in the in-game library? They're her collection of lesbian romances that she's collected over the past decades.

She doesn't like hats and prefers to stick to the one she wears in-game. She DOES have a collection of hats though. Last anyone counted, there were over fifty, one or two for each decade she's lived through.

She files her nails on a constant basis and owns an ornately decorated nail-clipper. Hygeine is of the utmost importance. She doesn't want to be compared to that filthy Heisenberg.

Despite her size and carefulness she keeps losing her stuff. Over the course of a week she could misplace three wine glasses, two reading glasses, and fifteen bottles of wine.

She's an expert at dodgeball and golf and even owns a lifetime access to the most prolific Country Club in Romania. With permission from Mother Miranda she goes there every year for the yearly party. It's one of the times she gets to see modernity (and Ed Sheeran) at its finest.

She loves bands from the 1920s and 1940s. However, she gets bored of them occasionally and switches them to something more modern, like Ed Sheeran. Seriously though, what is up with mums and Ed?

She's into executions and torture methods. So it's no surprise that she's a HUGE fan of Horrible Histories; even if she can't watch the show, she'll binge-read the books over and over again. She's even had the chance to encounter (and receive an autograph from) Terry Deary. They have sworn a bond not to tell anybody about this.

She loves exotic animals like anacondas and jaguars. She may or may not have owned a 10ft long Saltwater Crocodile (which was also about 5ft wide).

She's an incredible physicist and mathematician. She's also created many original formulae but unsurprisingly, she doesn't tell anyone about them, for fear that either more people may know of her, or that she may be wrong.

Dimitrescu Babes

They can devour an entire human being in mere seconds as flies. It's sort of like the scarab beetles in The Mummy movies. However, unlike the beetles, they are able to strip the bones as well. They leave nothing behind.

They all know how to play the piano with varying levels of success. Daniela can already play professionally while Bela is still stuck on Grade 5.

They love to listen to their mother when she tells them stories. Gotta hand it to 'em, when you're a fly, you know how to enjoy life in its most simple of moments.

They all love being around the hunky Soldats of Uncle Karl. Fortunately, they don't know of the rebellious plan to conquer Miranda.

Bela is bisexual, Cassandra is asexual and pansexual, and Daniela is demisexual.

It gets hard when you're a fly during the summer. If it's not the lizards, spiders, and other predators, it's the heat. Because of this, despite the material waste, they have invented the world's first blood-powered air conditioner.

The three girls have never ever ever touched a stove or oven in their life. They HAVE touched the hot end of an iron though. A good reason to not touch a bloody oven. Alcina has though, but doesn't tell them that.

They love puppies! Uncle Karl brought them a baby labrador. For the rest of the week Alcina had lost quite a bit of favour from them. Not that they minded of course. IT'S A PUPPY.

They don't like snow one bit. Not just because it's cold, but because it's too white. Too bright. Too shiny. They just can't focus on their prey!

They like to go over to Auntie Donna to play with Angie. Well, you know what they say, crazies attract the crazies, and the crazy has attracted the crazies.

They also like to go to Uncle Moreau's because he's the only one in the village with a PS4. Usually they'd spend about three-quarters of a day playing his games and eating his cheese.

Karl Heisenberg

He owns a dark blue armchair named Junkyard. Despite the name, he loves it dearly because it was a gift from Alcina for his twenty-first birthday. It became part of his final transformation too. Right under the hat.

He's a little blind in the right eye, much to his annoyance. It was a minor accident with Sturm; another reason for him to hate the uncontrollable wretch. He'll never live that day down.

Somehow, he sees better in the dark, which is why he wears such tinted glasses. He also wears them to hide his expressions, since, more often than not, he tends to end up wearing his heart on his sleeve, and his emotions in his eyes.

He's under a lot of pressure so it's no surprise that he breaks down in his factory when he knows he's alone. And by break down I mean crumple into an exhausted heap on the floor. Not even his Soldat Jet squad can wake him up until he's had a reasonable eight hours of rest.

He bathes once a day, every evening, but only three times a week. Perfume, tobacco, and cologne keep care of the rest.

He's the only Lord with a daily contact with the outside world due to his electrical abilities. Don't tell Miranda, but he can electrically CONNECT TO GOOGLE AND THE ENTIRE INTERNET IN GENERAL. He likes to play funny YouTube cat videos in his head when Miranda's having a boring meeting. It's also how he finds out that Chris is a boulder-punching asshole.

He does stimming! He likes to tap his fingers on his desk and the metal rails in his factory. He also buys stim toys from the Duke and keeps them in a well-kept box. His favourite is a non-ripping squishable toy duck. He also sings to chill out.

He's absolutely in the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise, and may have once believed in the pizzeria's existence. Come on, he's a mutated Overlord with magical magnet powers. Children souls stuck inside animatronics isn't too far-fetched of an idea. His favourite characters are the Funtimes and the Scraps, mainly because of the blueprint complexity. He HAS tried to replicate the animatronics in his spare time, but he's usually too busy with his Soldats so the project gets scrapped. He loves The Living Tombstone's songs and remixes though.

He doesn't like William Afton at all (though he marvels at his survivability). William's nature and habits remind him of Mother Miranda. He DOES however enjoy Michael Afton and often thinks how it would be absolutely amazing to have that resilient being in his Soldat army.

He's scared of what lurks below the watery depths and fire. Ironic because his brother is a literal fish and he works in one of the most hazardous fire-conducting environments. He's also scared of heights, though he doesn't get airsick.

He once died due to a killing electric shock whilst working on Sturm. It's the only time he's felt that sort of pulsing agony and also the first time he's had the confirmation that yes, Hell is real and yes, he'll end up in quite a dark pit in it. Or it could've been an electric dream, who knows? Anyways his soul apparently ran towards the opposite direction of the flames and he woke up alive after the passing of FIVE ENTIRE WEEKS. Oh boy did Alcina get worried when she couldn't find him.

Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy!

47 notes · View notes

waveypedia · 4 years ago

Note

This is why we can’t have nice things- Chat Noir and Ladybug

It’s You, My Dear

Ladybug sighs and slaps her hand against her head. “This is why we can’t have nice things, Chat.”

Chat flashes his famous Cheshire grin, wide and proud, and locks his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels to burn excess energy. “This is just an expression of my artistic genius.”

“There’s flour all over my kitchen,” Ladybug deadpans. “The kitchen that took me an hour to set up so we could cook together.”

“And now I’ve helped you decorate!” Chat replies, grinning, “Don’t crap on my creativity, M’Lady!”

“I would never crap on actual creativity,” Ladybug sighs. “This is just a mess.”

“But it’s our mess,” Chat gives Ladybug his best winning smile.

Ladybug boops Chat on the nose, causing his mouth to open in a small, perfect ‘o��. “No, it’s yours.”

Chat chuckles softly and brushes some flour off of his suit. They float to the ground like tiny snowflakes, revealing the darkness of his suit underneath. “All right, My Lady. I concede. You’re by far the better cook out of both of us. I’ll clean up, and you cook up a purr-fect feast.”

Ladybug snorts and gently slaps a layer of flour off Chat’s shoulder. “I spend a lot of time baking, Kitty, don’t be discouraged.”

Chat Noir simply laughs and brushes more flour off of him. It coats the floor. “I don’t mind if my cookies aren’t perfect. It’s fun to make them. A good friend taught me how!”

Ladybug smiles wistfully. Her train of thought arrives at the familiar Adrien station, like always, and she remembers the day a couple years ago when she taught Adrien how to bake chocolate chip cookies. But, of course, the two instances are completely unrelated.

She pushes away the nostalgia of that sweet summer day and consciously focuses on the here and now. She could make these cookies in her sleep (and she has), but right now, Chat deserves her attention.

He’s gotten most of the flour off of him now, so he looks much more like himself than Chat Blanc (although, whenever those heartbreaking memories surface when Ladybug looks at flour-covered Chat, all she has to do is look into his eyes. His beautiful, un-akumatized, green eyes. That’s her kitty.) and is sweeping up the flour on the makeshift kitchen floor - which is really a rooftop. Flour soars off the roof and into the streets below, causing passing Parisians to look up, point, and shout with excitement. Ladybug waves at them, and they eagerly wave back. She smiles at the phones with cameras pointed at her and imagines Alya’s future blog post.

But that doesn’t matter right now. She and Chat step away from the roof, and after a little while, the novelty wears off. The consistent subtle murmur of passerbys’ chatter from the streets fades into the background, and Ladybug turns back to her cookies.

“Almost done, Chat,” she calls over her shoulder.

“Wonderful, M’Lady,” he replies, spreading out the checkered picnic blanket. It’s her parent’s, soft and worn from use, and she takes it out on picnics with her friends all the time. Granted, they’re usually in a park rather than on a rooftop. “I think my friend has a picnic blanket like this. She likes to throw picnics.”

Ladybug hums in response as she takes the first batch of cookies out of the oven. “Oh, really? This is my parents’. I think it used to be popular.”

“My friend’s picnic blanket is her parents’, too,” he replies absently. “It must be.”

Ladybug piles the cookies on a plate and sets them next to the picnic basket on the blanket. Chat Noir is seated already, with his legs dangling off the rooftop, gazing at the horizon in the distance. His expression is soft and thoughtful, and his eyes are filled with a million thoughts she can not discern. It’s endearing.

Ladybug sits down next to him. “Are you ready, Kitty?”

His smile is back in full force as he snaps his head over to meet her gaze. “Of course, Bugaboo!”

Ladybug rolls her eyes, but busies herself with setting out plates for each of them. He statches a piece of cheese for his kwami for later.

She savors the way his eyes light up with delight.

They sit in comfortable silence for a little while as they enjoy the food. Parisians stroll along the streets below, mostly unaware of the heroes perched above them, save for a few sharp-eyed denizens who are rewarded with waves and winks for their efforts. After a while, Chat leans his head against Ladybug’s shoulder, letting out a soft sigh.

Ladybug snorts and pushes him, but gently. “You’re too tall for this, Chat.”

His only response is to hum contentedly and snuggle in closer, causing her to giggle despite herself. His neck is twisted almost sideways to fit on her shoulder, but he doesn’t look uncomfortable in the slightest.

She shoves him a little harder. “Chat, c’mon. You’re going to get a kink in your neck.”

“I sleep in class all the time, My Lady. I don’t mind it.” But he obliges, rubbing his neck.

Ladybug sighs good-naturedly. “That’s not good, Chat.” She’s aware that she’s a hypocrite, but only sometimes. She tries not to be. It’s hard enough to keep her grades up with all her… extracurricular activities.

Chat shrugs nonchalantly. “Sometimes I have to get up really early for pho- for my job,” he explains. “And of course the midnight akumas. I swear, does Hawk Moth ever sleep?”

Ladybug laughs at that. Tension she didn’t even realize was there fades away, floating into the wind as Ladybug’s giggles tinkle like bells and Chat grins wide at the validation. “His sleep schedule must be so messed up. Maybe that’s why he’s like that.”

“A lack of sleep does make me quite a grumpy cat,” Chat muses. “But I can say with certainty that I’ve never gone on a homicidal violence spree and tried to steal jewelry because of it.”

Ladybug giggles again. “Good job on beating Hawk Moth, then.”

Chat smirks and sighs contentedly, picking up a cookie. He sighs with pure delight as his teeth sink into it.

Ladybug watches him, smirking, ignoring the growing valley of joy in her chest at the validation. Chat’s initial reaction whenever he eats sweets is always the same - pure bliss, over the top, but always genuine. It never fails to make her smile.

She’s noticed before that Adrien reacts similarly whenever she brings in baked goods, and she knows full well he’s on a very strict diet (one that always seems to leave him tired and drained, no matter how much she tries to hide it). Chat’s home situation is probably similar, especially based on the little details he’s let slip out, which makes her blood boil. So she’s made it her mission to fill both boys up with all the treats they can handle.

It’s the little things.

“These are wonderful, M’Lady,” Chat says softly. He won’t meet her eyes.

Ladybug fights the smile growing on her face and shoves him playfully. Her feelings, and the mood, are threatening to take a turn down a road she’s terrified to explore.

Adrien. Adrien. Adrien. Remember Adrien. Do not fall for Chat Noir. Don’t ruin what you have.

“You’re just saying that,” she teases, even though she knows he’s not. The guilt stings in her stomach, settling with the homemade food she’s eating.

“Why, M’Lady, I meant what I said! These cookies are simply purr-fect.”

Ladybug placed her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “You got flour all over my makeshift kitchen.”

“These cookies are all the better because you made them, My Lady,” Chat smiled back, unfazed in the face of Ladybug’s annoyance, but with a touch of genuinity.

Ladybug huffed in response and spread out the picnic blanket. “Sit down already. You’re going to fill yourself up on cookies.”

Chat put the cookie he was about to bite into down and cast a longing look at the cookie platter, but sat down without complaint. “You’re a wonderful cook, My Lady!”

Ladybug smiles softly. “Thank you, Kitty.”

They lean against each other, foreheads touching, and watch the sunset. Oranges and pinks flush Paris in auroric flames. Ladybug’s hand tingles from where it’s brushing Chat’s and the cookies.

“You know,” Chat says softly, so softly Ladybug isn’t sure if she’s imagining his voice or not, “You say we can’t have nice things, but this seems pretty nice to me.”

A grin slowly worms its way up Ladybug’s face. “Yeah,” she replies, equally as soft. Chat’s ears twitch. “I think so too.” In more ways than one.

Their hands brush closer and closer until their fingers close around each other. Somehow, inexplicably, she knows Chat hears her unsaid words.

“Pretty nice,” she echoes, half to herself, as they sit on the rooftops of their city and watch the world go by. All they have is each other. All they need is each other.

The sun sets, and the world turns to shades of gray, and still they sit. Ladybug pulls out the hot chocolate, kept warm in the thermoses her family swears up and down by. They stay long after color bleeds out of the world, shoulders touching, hands entwined, heads leaning against each other despite the height difference.

It’s nearing midnight when Ladybug shifts her asleep foot and breaks the proverbial blanket over the two of them. A pang of regret resonates in her heart, but as she shakes life into her cold limbs, she knows it’s for the best. Parting is never easy, even if it’s just for the night.

With her kitty, she’d rather always be with him. Every goodbye hurts.

Chat stands up and stretches, curling up his back and tail just like a real cat. Ladybug’s mouth quirks into a teasing smile, and she reaches out to give him a quick scratch under the chin, relishing in the way his eyes close in pure safety and contentment. She presses her fingers slightly closer to feel the purr that rumbles through his body, steady and sure.

They divvy up the remaining snacks (Ladybug sneaks him half her share - he needs it more than she does. Even if all of her conceptions of his home life are mistaken, blown out of proportion, based on what she knows of Adrien’s, she does live above a bakery. But she’s fairly certain she’s not wrong on this one, despite how much she hopes she is.) and part ways for the night. Chat gives her a tight hug, and he’s so warm, just like a real cat. Ladybug melts in his embrace, and wishes they could stay there forever, frozen, untouched by the world moving around them. She knows he’s thinking the same thing.

Alas, it does have to end, and they part ways with a wave and a few nonsensical words shouted to the wind with the adrenaline from movement and the cold air kicking into their tired bodies. Ladybug begins the trek home, her limbs moving mechanically through the familiar movements as she soars over Paris in a way most people could only dream to.

When she’s safe in bed, with her diminished share of snacks tucked safely away in the cupboard, Marinette clutches her cat pillow to her and bundles up in her blankets. She thinks about how they don’t quite compare to Chat’s warmth.

Tikki, curling up on Marinette’s pillow, smiles knowingly.

these guys are really fun to write fluff for

title is from my dear from red velvet! lyrics from this song actually inspired me to make a doc filled with title ideas (mostly song lyrics, which is what i’ve been drawing a lot from lately) and i’ve been saving this one since june 😳 i think it fits here

#wavey writes #my asks #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #ladybug #chat noir #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fic #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #cat noir #ladynoir #love square #adrienette #tikki

107 notes · View notes

charincharge · 5 years ago

Text

I Don’t Want To Wait, seven

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompt:

Sharing is caring. Now, give me the hoodie!

“I’m never drinking again,” Aelin moaned as she rolled over on Lysandra’s bed, shoving her head under the pillow. She knew Rowan had censored himself filling in the gaps of her night. Saying she was an angry drunk, though accurate, was not quite specific enough.

Apparently, she and Rowan had had a screaming match in the kitchen that he failed to mention, and Aelin had zero recollection of.

“The entire kitchen cleared out,” Lysandra explained, “Lyria included. But you were… pretty loud.”

Aelin groaned into the pillow.

“Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

Lysandra patted Aelin’s foot, trying to be comforting, but Aelin didn’t want to be comforted right now. She kicked Lysandra’s hand away.

“This is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Lysandra snorted and poked her bare foot. “At least he thought you were talking about someone else?”

Aelin peeked out from beneath the pillow and frowned again. “That is so much worse. Now he thinks I’m mad at him for not letting me kiss NOX OWEN.”

“What else was he supposed to think? You can’t exactly blame him. You smacked his drink out of his hand and started screeching about how he ruined your kissing plans.”

“As if I’d ever have a chance with Nox. I barely even have a chance with Rowan, and he’s been my best friend since we were eight.” Aelin sighed loudly. “Whatever. Everything is ruined now. He’s going to prom with Lyria.”

Lysandra frowned, the pity evident in her bright green eyes as she flopped down next to Aelin on her comforter. “I’m sorry, boo.”

“Tell me one more time,” Aelin sighed. “Exactly what we both said. Every word.”

“In the kitchen?”

Aelin nodded.

“You stared at Lyria’s hand for like… a full ten seconds. Then you smacked the drink out of Rowan’s hand, and screamed – Where’s my drink, bitch? And he very calmly said, What the fuck, Aelin? Because… you know. The drink spilled all over the floor. Then you screamed at the top of your lungs, I NEEDED ANOTHER DRINK, AND YOU RUINED EVERYTHING. And he did that eyebrow thing you hate and asked, What did I ruin? And then you screamed back KISSING PLANS. That’s when the kitchen started emptying out.” Aelin groaned.

“It’s so much worse hearing it again.”

Lysandra paused. “Do you want me to repeat the rest?” And Aelin nodded tentatively. It was masochistic, but she needed to hear it all again.

Lysandra sighed loudly, knowing the worst was about to happen. “You fucking raged, Aelin. You incoherently started screaming – I HAD KISSING PLANS. AMAZING REAL FIRST KISS PLANS AND YOU RUINED THEM BY GETTING DISTRACTED.” She crinkled her nose at that. “And it looked like Rowan was going to say something, but you just kept going on and on about your ruined kissing plans. You called him an idiot….” Aelin cringed. She couldn’t believe how belligerent she was. “And then you screamed, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO COME BACK WITH MY DRINK. THE DRINK WAS INTEGRAL TO MY KISSING PLAN. Which, by the way, nice SAT vocab drop while you were blackout drunk. That was impressive.”

Aelin couldn’t do anything more than flick off her friend. She was too busy berating herself for all the stupid things she didn’t remember saying when she was drunk. She’d been this close to telling Rowan she’d planned to kiss him. And she’d said FIRST KISS. It wasn’t like she hadn’t kissed anyone before – she totally had. There’d been several games of truth or dare which included kisses and a braces-filled makeout session at Camp Terrasen in eighth grade. She’d just meant their first kiss. She wanted to die.

“Then he got really mad himself and screamed back at you that you should have told him about your kissing plans, so he didn’t ruin your night. And you screamed back it didn’t matter since it was already ruined and clearly you could get your own drink.”

“I think that’s when he realized you’d had a little too much to drink that he’d clearly missed. And he sought out Nox, who explained the drink chugging, and while that happened, you literally chugged another drink and then launched yourself at Salvaterre.”

“I have to apologize,” Aelin said, but Lysandra shook her head.

“He didn’t bring it up for a reason.” Lysandra softened her eyes, running her hand through Aelin’s freshly showered hair. “I think once you punched Lorcan he chocked everything up to wasted nonsense.”

Aelin shoved her face into Lysandra’s pillow and let out a low laugh. What a nightmare. “I’m just grateful you and Elide were there to change me,” she said. “I can’t even imagine my embarrassment if Rowan had to peel me out of puke-covered clothes.”

“Yeah, you owe us for that one.”

Aelin’s mouth dropped in shock. “You left me to sleep on the bathroom floor!”

Lysandra laughed. “Only because you scissor kicked Rowan in the knee when he and Wes tried to take you up the stairs.” She looked at Aelin. “He’s not mad at you, Ace. He was going to let you sleep in his bed. Puke-covered and all.”

Aelin rolled onto her back. “But he’s going to prom with Lyria,” Aelin repeated again.

“She’s nice,” Lysandra quipped, causing Aelin to glare at her. “But she’s not you.” Aelin’s lips quirked upward at that. “He’ll figure it out eventually,” she said, letting Aelin breathe a sigh of relief. She really hoped Lysandra’s assessment was true. “Or he won’t, and you’ll spend the rest of your life pining away.”

Aelin snorted loudly. “Gee, thanks.”

“Welcome, bitch.”

Lysandra paused, her green eyes soft and nervous instead of holding their usual brash confidence as she continued. “I know you and Rowan are special best friends with, like, a special best friend song and everything.”

“We do not have a special best friend song?” Aelin interrupted, causing Lysandra to laugh and boop her nose softly.

“You do. It’s ‘Dancing In The Moonlight,’ which is adorable, but not my point.”

“And that is…?”

“I know I’ll never be Rowan, but I’m still a best friend, and if you need to talk about things… you can tell me. Especially if they’re Rowan things.”

Aelin bit her lip and breathed nervously. “I’m glad you know.”

“Oh, babe,” Lysandra laughed, rubbing Aelin’s shoulder softly. “I’ve known about your feelings for years. I’m just glad you finally told me.”

Aelin groaned and shoved her head under the pillow again.

~*~

Dear journal,

I don’t know who else to talk about this with. I know Lysandra KNOWS now, but I just need to vent to someone impartial, okay? Things with Rowan are so weird… because they’re not weird at all. After Lys told me what I screamed at him, I was sure he’d finally come out and clear the air, but it’s been a WHOLE WEEK, and he hasn’t said anythingggg. Everything is just…. normal??? He even let me keep the lacrosse sweatshirt Lys and El put me in. I tried to give it back, but he told me it was mine now. What the hell is THAT about? What does it mean?

I want to tell him I know about the fight, but then I’d have to explain I was screaming about kissing him, and I don’t know if he wants to hear that anymore.

All I know is that every time I look at him I feel like I’m about to explode. Not to mention I’m about to go suit shopping with him for ~PROM~ and I’m kind of freaking out. What is Rowan in a TUX going to do to my body? I might just combust there on the spot. Maybe he’s right. I should ask Lys to teach me how to … you know (masturbate). I tried to watch a video (I KNOW), but I got a million pop ups and got too nervous and shut my laptop off. Maybe I should look on my phone next time. Do phones get pop ups?

UGH OKAY. HE’S HERE. WISH ME LUCK.

Xo, Aelin

5/21/20 – age 16

Aelin slammed her journal shut and shoved it under her stack of decoy notebooks in her nightstand just before Rowan appeared in her doorway.

“Ready to go, Ace?”

She nodded and stretched her arms above her head, shaking out her hand, which was cramped from writing so neatly in her journals.

“Don’t you want to bring a jacket?” Rowan asked, looking at Aelin’s bared stomach pointedly.

“It’s almost June, Buzzard, don’t be such a prude,” she answered, her arms self-consciously crossing over the chest of her cropped t-shirt.

He rolled his eyes, leading them back downstairs, and Aelin grabbed her purse and followed. “Don’t come complaining to me when you’re too cold.”

“I would never,” she gasped, feigning shock. “And don’t forget you owe me post-shopping ice cream.”

“Oh, bring me back a pint of chocolate peanut butter,” Rhoe called out from the kitchen, his blue eyes peering out from behind the giant pages of the Orynth Times.

“Sure thing, Dad,” Aelin called out, passing by the kitchen with a wave.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Aelin doubled back and peered into the kitchen where her exhausted looking dad sat. “Rowan is taking you shopping? Has hell frozen over? Rowan, how did you get conned into this?”

Aelin looked up at Rowan, who scratched his head uncomfortably. “She’s actually taking me shopping. I need a tux for prom…” Rowan trailed off, his cheeks turning slightly pink as Rhoe returned a surprised look at the child who was practically his surrogate son.

“Ae, do you need a dress?” he asked, suddenly looking worried. Her dad would give her the moon if he could, but supporting a daughter on a firefighter’s single salary was often more than he could manage.

“Oh, no,” Aelin shook her head, carefully concealing her hurt feelings with a devilish smirk. “Rowan got asked to junior prom.”

Rhoe’s eyes widened, flickering between his daughter and Rowan rapidly, before smiling softly. “An older woman, eh?”

“It’s not like that…” Rowan grumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly as he looked down at the ground at his well-worn running sneakers. “I barely know her. I just said yes to be polite…”

“Sure, Buzzard,” Aelin said, poking Rowan’s side. He frowned at her unhappily, flicking her finger away.

Rhoe barked out a loud laugh. “Have fun, you two.” He fixed Aelin with a serious stare. “Make sure he picks out something really embarrassing, kiddo.” His stare broke as he winked, sending them off on their way, Rowan rushing out of the house as fast as his feet could carry him.

“Oh yeah,” Aelin laughed. “I’m putting him in blue ruffles first.”

“You are not!” Rowan called from outside, already starting up the jeep.

Aelin waved goodbye to her dad and hopped into the passenger seat, cranking up her mix, which was still playing in Rowan’s car.

~*~

“I look stupid,” Rowan whined, shoving his hands into the pockets of the umpteenth different styled tux the shop attendant had pulled for him. This one was black, again, but some kind of shiny material, and the pants had a stripe up the side.

Aelin couldn’t help the small frown that tugged at her lips at how picky her best friend was being. She honestly assumed the boy who mostly lived in athletic shorts and t-shirts would be fine with the first suit he tried on, but he was being finnicky and far too particular for someone who “just said yes to be polite.” And it was starting to get on her nerves. What she thought was going to be an exercise in sexual restraint was actually just trying her patience.

“Shiny, no good!” the salesman agreed, his accent curling thickly around his criticism.

Rowan sighed and turned to look at Aelin, who did her hardest to neutralize her facial expression before he saw her frown, but it was too late.

“I knew it,” Rowan grumbled, peeling the jacket off and handing it to the salesman, who cleared out the full dressing room again, and Aelin gnawed at her lip, trying to think of something comforting to say.

“It’s not bad…”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Ace.”

“Language!” the salesman snapped, and Rowan’s mood lifted for a brief second as he laughed in shock, his eyes going straight to Aelin, as if to say Can you believe this guy? She shook her head in agreement, and she was relieved to see a smile on his face for the first time in two hours.

Aelin pushed herself off the small chair in the communal dressing room space and approached Rowan. She cocked her head to the side and let her eyes shamelessly trail his form. He was right about this particular suit. It did look stupid. But none of the suits, all in differing shades and cuts of black, had looked right. As her gaze trailed back up to his face, his breath held, patiently waiting for her conclusion, Aelin had a stroke of genius.

“Black isn’t your color, Ro. It’s washing you out.” Rowan’s face scrunched at her assessment, clearly unpleased. But the stark contrast between the white and black, combined with his pale hair was doing something to his usually tanned and glowing skin, and it wasn’t good.

“I refuse to wear a light blue suit,” he said, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Not something bright. Just… subtle color,” Aelin explained, and the salesman started nodding rapidly.

“Ah, yes, the Bellissima is correct. Color. Yes, color! COLOR!”

He excitedly ran back into the shop and returned with suits in various dark shades of navy and emerald and maroon slung over his shoulder. Aelin watched in amusement as he shoved Rowan back into the dressing room, telling him to try the green first.

Aelin stood impatiently, arms crossed and leaning against one of the 360 mirrors, hoping against all hopes that her assessment was correct. She wasn’t sure she could endure another two hours of this. Another five minutes would be bad enough, to be honest.

When Rowan walked out to the small platform, she knew she’d nailed itt. Her pulse thrummed loudly, and she could feel her lips part, inhaling a large gasp into her drying mouth. Rowan looked…

“Wow,” Aelin whispered at the same time Rowan said, “Huh,” peering into the mirror.

Aelin stood up straighter, pushing herself up and getting a closer view of the striking boy in front of her. The green was so dark, it just barely contrasted with the black lapels and trim of the suit, but the color brough a warmth to his face that had been missing, the green of his irises prominent beneath his long blonde lashes. Those bright eyes peered over at Aelin, searching for her reaction, and she couldn’t help the soft blush that appeared across her skin as they locked with hers.

Rowan cleared his throat, coughing lightly as he smoothed the jacket out, pulling the lapels gently. “Uh, yeah. Good call, Ace.”

Aelin lifted her long hair into a high bun, needing something to do with herself besides stare and to allow the breeze of the store fan to cool the back of her neck.

“The one!” the salesman cooed, running his hands across Rowan’s broad shoulders proudly. “We did it!”

When Aelin looked back up, she was surprised to see Rowan’s eyes still on her, gauging her reaction with curiosity. He raised a blonde brow in her direction, and Aelin was afraid for a second that she was going to launch herself at him right there and kiss his face.

Instead swallowed loudly and clapped her hands, shaking off the intensity of his gaze and smiled broadly. “About time, Buzzard. Now, let’s go get me some ice cream.”

The moment was broken as Rowan rolled his eyes and made his way back into the changing room, slinging the suit over the door as Aelin exhaled and slumped back into the chair for a brief reprieve.

“Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream,” Aelin chanted as Rowan paid for the tux rental.

Rowan slung his arm over Aelin’s shoulders and smiled down at her. “Fine. You earned it.”

“Hell yeah, I did,” Aelin said, as the salesperson shouted, “Language!” at them again, as they ran out of the store, both giggling.

By the time they reached their favorite ice cream spot, the sun had set, and the swift down current breeze of the Staghorn Mountains had started up, cooling the temperature significantly from the balmy afternoon Aelin had dressed for.

She looked out at the dark water, shivering slightly as she took her first bite of mint chocolate chip. Rowan bit back a smile as he wrapped his hoodie around himself tighter, keeping the winds out, happily eating his cookie dough without danger of freezing to death.

On her third bite, Aelin finally broke. “Oh come on, Buzzard, sharing is caring. Now, give me the hoodie.”

“I told you to bring your jacket!” Rowan laughed just as a particularly strong gust cut against Aelin’s exposed skin, making her shudder. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he snorted, opening up the hoodie and nodding to her. “Get in here.”

“Really?” she asked, teeth chattering.

“You’re the worst,” he joked as he unzipped his hoodie and held it open, and Aelin practically raced into it. Rowan’s smile grew as he zipped the hoodie back up, which shockingly stretched large enough to fit them both. Just barely. Aelin pressed her cheek against his chest, soaking in his warmth as his free hand rubbed her back. She shivered again, but this time having nothing to do with the cold, warmth and desire radiating through her body as she felt every twitch of his muscles, every shallow breath.

“Better?” he asked, and she nodded, smiling happily into her next bite of ice cream. She savored each bite, not wanting the moment to end too soon. Each bite tasting better than the last, surrounded in Rowan’s grasp and heat. She breathed in, his heady scent filling her head, his embrace feeling so perfect around her. Her stomach calmed, everything suddenly feeling so right.

“Thanks, Ace,” he said quietly, resting his chin on her head. “I know that’s not how you wanted to spend your Saturday.”

Aelin finished her last bite and leaned harder into his warm chest. “I don’t care how we spend our Saturdays,” Aelin admitted. “As long as we’re hanging out.”

“Cool,” Rowan said, sounding so lame that Aelin couldn’t help but laugh, and she could feel him hiding his own smile in her hair. “Okay, we have to get back into the car,” he laughed outright, his hands rubbing circles onto her back, and Aelin shook her head into his shirt. No, she wanted to stay just like this forever.

“I’ll freeze to death!” she countered instead.

“We’ll just have to make a run for it. I don’t plan on losing you tonight, Ace.” Aelin groaned, but Rowan knew he’d won. “On the count of three,” he warned her. “One… two…” On three, he unzipped the hoodie, and Aelin screeched, her voice raising to glass shattering levels as she sprinted towards the jeep, wind whipping through her thin t-shirt and cutting against her warmed skin like ice.

Rowan unlocked the jeep as they ran, and they both launched themselves into their seats simultaneously, joyful laughter bubbling up in both of them and filling the car.

Aelin watched Rowan as he turned the car on, and immediately cranked up the heat. Her stomach fluttered again, and she crossed her legs to quell the ache of desire that had begun to take over her body.

As stealthily as she could, she pulled out her phone and texted Lysandra again.

I need some help.

Her phone lit up with Lysandra’s returning message almost immediately. XYZ kind of help???

Aelin snorted at the use of Rowan’s code name. Lysandra had suggested if Aelin ever wanted to talk about Rowan in text, she probably shouldn’t use his name. Just in case he ever saw. Aelin had immediately suggested his initials, RW, but Lysandra smartly pointed out he was the only RW they knew. Lysandra cackled, suggesting XYZ – because it came right after W. And with any luck, Aelin would be coming soon.

Aelin’s cheeks flushed as she texted back. Can you teach me/instruct me/explain how to masturbate?

OMG!!!!! MY BABY BUTTERFLY, YES YES YES GIRLLLLL!!!

Aelin laughed softly, and Rowan looked at her curiously, from her cheeks to the phone lit up in her hand.

“Who could you possibly be texting right now?” he asked, and if Aelin didn’t know better she would have thought he maybe sounded slightly put out.

“Lysandra,” she answered, a little too quickly, but her heart was beating too fast at the inappropriate back and forth she and Lys were having, especially since she wanted to fantasize about the person sitting right next to her while she… learned.

“What about?” Rowan asked, curious.

Aelin bit her lip. “You were right,” she said, her face probably beet red. She was grateful he couldn’t entirely see the color in the dark.

“About what?” he asked. “I mean, I’m often right about a lot of things,” he added cheekily.

“Masturbation,” Aelin replied as confidently as she could, while feeling like her skin was going to burn her alive. The car swerved slightly as Rowan snapped his head to look in her direction.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice sounding strained and high.

“Lysandra’s going to teach me.”

Aelin could feel her best friend’s gaze puncturing holes into her flaming cheeks as he searched for something to say. But when she looked up, she couldn’t speak fast enough.

“ROWAN!” she shouted as the jeep crashed straight into the taillights of the car in front of them.

~*~*~*~

if you’d like to be added to my TOG taglist – ask me HERE

tag list:

@df3ndyr

@hizqueen4life

@maastrash

@justgiu12

@aknymph

@bamchickawowow

@thewayshedreamed

@strangeenemy

@studyliketate

@iammissstark

@heirofthenightcourt

@acourtofmarauders

@cmoff1

@stardelia

@b00kworm

@wordsafterhours

@m-like-magic

@the-third-me

@cursebreaker29

@annejulianneh111

@queen-of-glass

@aesthetics-11

@xhopelessdreamer

@babycardan

@illyrian-velaris

@galyxsy

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

@rolltide7

@keshavomit

@yuya1487

@minaidss

@tswaney17

@ladywitchling

@superspiritfestival

@starborn-faerie-queen

@cool-ish-nerd

@althelkingshorses

@westofmoon

@sanakapoor

@louiseleblancdiggory

@lizzziebear

@viajandosinalas

@morganofthewildfire

@abookishfreak

@tottenhamboys20

@januarystears

@myfireheart-rowaelin

@jesstargaryenqueen

@empress-ofbloodshed

@faerie-queen-fireheart

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@siennasally

@peaches-and-daydream

@rosesandglass

@ms-firebreathingbitchqueen

@nikki1288-blog

@aelinmyqueen

@giorgia-the-trashpanda

@starborn-faerie-queen

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@tillyrubes10

@cityofchelsea16

@rockgirl321

@welcometothespeaknowworldtour

#rowaelin #high school au #i don't want to wait au #charincharge writes

264 notes · View notes

juyeoniemyhoney · 5 years ago

Text

can this morning never end

Namjoon is the most beautiful human being to ever walk the earth. It is natural that you have a crush on him. You expect that eventually, your feelings will die out but then, you find yourself squealing uncontrollably outside of the library that you and Namjoon had agreed to meet at for your pair-work assignment. You have always watched Namjoon from afar. It surprises you when you find out that Namjoon has been observing you too. Well, there’s a first for everything.

-pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

-genre: FLUFF, a lil bit of angst, high school/secondary school au (where i live high school is called secondary school;-;)

-warnings: vulgarities, pretty self-depreciating writing if im gonna be honest so be weary, Namjoon is a little bit of a simp for oc in this one, the ending is lowkey shit rip im sorry

-word count: 3208 words

-A/N: hi hi im back, this time with a Namjoon fic. i havent been writing a lot because im so preoccupied with my exams. in all honesty, i shouldnt be writing at all but i have absolutely no sense of self control, so i wrote this. it’s not my best but i really like how joon’s so soft in this so i decided to post it anyway. don’t be afraid to tell me how you liked (or didnt like) this imagine! and requests are open! hope you enjoy this one:)

--------

As you approach the entrance of the library, your heart starts beating a mile a minute.

You stall outside the automatic sliding doors, mind racing with a million scenarios. You freak out a little and silently squeal, earning you disapproving frowns and judging eyes from passers-by. But you don't care. You've waited a whole week for today.

A week ago, during English class, you were busy writing instead of paying attention, as usual, when your teacher had given the class the assignment to write a scenario, of any genre but it had to contain the writer's techniques she had taught in class. And she made the whole class pair up. You, too lost in the world of fanfiction, had not been listening and frankly, you didn't really care, passing her words off as just more homework.

The next thing you knew, Kim Namjoon had turned around in his chair, calling your name in that deep, gravelly voice. At the sound of his voice, your head immediately shot up, eyes wide in surprise.

"Do you want to partner up?" he had asked, lips slinging into an easy grin, eyes curling up and that goddamned dimple making itself made known on his left cheek. He patiently waited for your answer, eyes periodically glancing down to your desk that was in disarray, pieces of paper containing your words messily covering every corner of your desk. You pray that he didn't catch a peep of your (admittedly) cringeworthy fanfic as you tried to subtly gather the papers before he could read too much.

"Um, partner up for what?" you questioned, confused, head tilting ever so slightly to the right in question, brows furrowed in misunderstanding. He mirrored your actions and your heart had unwontedly skipped a beat. A beat of silence passed, "For the assignment?"

Before you could ask what assignment?, your teacher had interrupted your conversation with a satisfied clap and a smile. "Alright, I assume you have all found your partners. I'll give you time to work on your assignment right now. Remember that planning is the most important stage of writing. Do approach me if you have any questions."

Namjoon had turned back to you with a wry grin that looked a tad bit awkward, saying, "Well, I guess we're partners now."

Which is how you find yourself freaking the fuck out in front of a library on a Saturday morning, mind racing with different, absurd scenarios and outcomes of this meeting. You decide to take another minute to compose yourself.

You wouldn't say that you like Namjoon per se. You just think he is the most handsome man to walk on this godforsaken planet. But seriously, that man is far too beautiful to be real. From the first time you met him til now, you have no doubt that that man is a celestial being, gifted to the world from the gods, purely to cleanse the eyes of us, mere mortals. To make matters worse, he is smart too; of a wisdom thousands of years beyond his age. You still can't believe you've had the god-given opportunity to meet someone like him.

Okay so, maybe you kind of like him a lot, more than you let on, but you're not really sure if you like him because he's Namjoon or if it's because you are lovelorn, touch deprived, or both.

You reckon it has taken more than a minute to compose yourself because by the time you snap out of your daze, you are five minutes late when you had actually arrived five minutes earlier than the agreed timing. You sigh and finally walk through the doors that welcome you into the cooling library, cold blasts from the air conditioning cooling down the fierce blush that had taken refuge on your cheeks.

You immediately proceed to find a seat but Namjoon texts you, telling you that he's already a step ahead of you, having secured a seat in a room with tables on the second floor.

When you reach the second floor, and make your way towards the rooms, you can see Namjoon through the glass walls, sitting down and silently reading a book as he waits for you. The closer you draw to the room, the faster your heart pounds in your chest. The sound is deafening and distracting and you don't even realise how fast you had walked until you are finally knocking on the glass door, sending Namjoon a small smile when he looks up at you.

"Hi, Y/N," he greets, smile widening into a grin so wide that it hides his eyes. Your heart stops but you hide it with a small smile as you settle down your things and yourself opposite him.

"So, what genre did you want to write about," he asks as you take a pen and a piece of paper out from your bag. You freeze when your brain registers his sentence. "The assignment is to write a story?"

Namjoon stares at you wordlessly for a while, speechless that it's been a week and you still don't know what the fucking assignment is. You, however, have no idea that he is thinking about how stupid you are and happily stare back at him, taking in his mono lidded, almond-shaped eyes and the dark brown of his irises. His nose bridge is straight and the tip of his nose is a little flat, like a koala. You have never wanted to boop a nose so bad in your entire life.

"Yeah, that's the assignment," he responds patiently, giving you a gentle smile. You can't help but feel that it seems a little tight and forced, like he is regretting asking you be his partner, and regretting that he didn't have enough time to reconsider. You ignore the feeling of dejection that slowly bubbles up inside of you.

"I thought that it'd be easiest to write romance since you're so well versed in that.". You freeze. Time seems to have stopped and your ears refuse to register the rest of what Namjoon is saying, tuning everything out but your deafening thoughts. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

"You know that I write?" you interrupt Namjoon. He stops and fixes you a look of confusion, like it is so obvious that you write. It's not that you've been trying to keep it a secret. The thing is, for most of your stories, Namjoon is the main male character. In most of your stories, you have described every single part of him in excruciating detail, his eyes and lips especially. When your friends had first read your stories with Namjoon as the male protagonist, they had caught on quickly, almost immediately asking you if you were describing Namjoon because of how well you had described him. A bad feeling washes over you.

"Yeah, you're always scribbling away during English so I got curious and asked a few of your classmates," he responds, flashing you another lopsided smile. If this were any other situation, your heart would have been absolutely eliminated because of that smile but in this situation, all you can think about is if he's read any of your work. Because if he has, you're done for.

"What did my classmates say?" you question hesitantly, still deciding if you want to know his answer.

"Well they said that you've been writing since forever. They also said that a lot of people know that you write. Oh, and they also said that you had some published works so I went to check them out—" Namjoon's voice fades out as he continues to talk.

This is it.

It's the end of your social life. Namjoon is going to tell his loud ass group of friends that you write stalker-esque stories about him and then one of his friends is going to accidentally tell their girlfriend and then the girlfriend is going to spread it across the school and you'll be known as the loser who writes creepy stalker stories about Namjoon—

"It was amazing," you hear Namjoon say in between your mild quarter-life crisis. You pause and look him square in the eye. You want to come off as serious but you falter slightly when Namjoon stares back at you, irises a whirlpool of dark brown and glittering fascination, a swirling vortex that draws you in with a vicious intent of drowning.

"Yes?" Namjoon questions you after a beat of silence passes. You want to ask him if he knows that he is reading about himself but you stop yourself. "You like my stories?" you ask instead, feeling a tad bit shy now that you've realised that Namjoon likes what you write about him.

He lets out a small laugh, "Is it that hard to believe that I like what you write?"

"I was just surprised." He flashes you another wide grin and there it is, those cursed dimples show themselves again, grinning tauntingly at you and your heart commits the highest act of treason when it starts to beat faster. You gulp.

"You shouldn't be surprised. It was really good. I really liked it when you described the male character. It felt like I was looking at him myself. That's why I asked you to be my partner. I'm sure with your talents, we can get a really good mark on this assignment."

Your heart thuds a little faster when Namjoon tells you that his favourite part was reading about how you described him. But it falls to your stomach when he tells you that he picked you solely for your supposed talents. You don't know why, but a part of you had thought that maybe Namjoon wanted to get to know you better, and was using this assignment as an excuse. You thought that it was finally happening, someone you like has finally noticed you. But it looks like you thought wrong.

"Thank you," you say meekly, flashing him a half-hearted smile that you're sure he notices from the way he stiffens. "So, you said that you thought that romance would be a good genre, but what do you want to write about?"

Namjoon is silent for a while, lips pursed in ponder. You wait patiently for his answer.

"Well, I thought that I'd wanted to write romance too," he answers flashing you an awkward smile. The silence that follows is palpable and suddenly, you feel so very exhausted. "Well then, that's settled. Now we just have to think of a situation."

"How about this one?" Namjoon asks immediately after you finish your sentence. He says it rather suddenly and it startles you a little. You can't help but hear a certain extent of desperation in this voice. He wants to get this over with, you tell yourself.

"How do you mean?"

"Kinda like us now," he starts but stops to think about what to say next. You remain silent. "We should just write about us but make it a love story. For example, the two main characters are supposed to do a project together so they meet at a library," he pauses to gesture to the shelves surrounding the both of you.

"Then they start working on the project and they start talking. Then, somehow, the boy confesses to her. And the girl tells him she's always felt the same way. We can come up with how he confesses since I myself haven't come up with that yet," he continues, softening the last part of his sentence into a mumble that you barely hear, but still do. You pause. What the fuck?

"What did you say? I didn't hear you," you ask against your better judgement, curiosity getting the best of you. "Huh? Oh, it was nothing."

A furious blush begins to spread on the apples of Namjoon's cheeks, and for some reason, your body begins to mirror him, heart pumping hot blood to the blood vessels that lay beneath the skin of your cheeks. Namjoon shyly directs his gaze to his lap, dark brown bangs, the colour of his eyes, coming down in luxurious curls and waves to hide his eyes. You can't help but think that you like to see Namjoon like this; soft and shy and vulnerable because he is usually so confident and suave. It feels like he is showing a new side of himself to you, like he is peeling back the layers of masks and personas he has built until he is left raw and natural, allowing you to see everything that he is. The thought of that leaves you feeling winded because it is exactly what you want. And suddenly, you don't feel bashful or shy because of his words. Instead, you are determined, hellbent on making something out of this and you hope with your whole being that it is a relationship.

You are about to say something, to question him, bombard him until he is spilling his feelings in fumbled words and sentences of desperation and want, clawing at you until you too, are raw and vulnerable. But he beats you to it, speaking in a soft, hushed tone, as if you are a stern silence that he is afraid of interrupting.

"I think you're amazing, Y/N. What do you think of me?"

He stares meekly at his lap, too afraid to even spare you a glance. You remain silent, building his desperation like you are some professional flirt. In all honesty, you really just want to tell him you like him too but you're just so scared. The evidence that he at least feels something for you is right in front of you and yet your brain rejects it like a vending machine rejects a bill, walls built far too high and thick that words are no longer enough to convince you. He has to show you. And you think he knows that too.

Namjoon's head shoots up to stare you in the eyes, a new found determination and confidence burning in his eyes. The way the light finds his dark brown irises makes your heart do a million somersaults. They light up and turn into a golden brown you can't help but compare to a sweet, caramel syrup that coats your tongue in golden, sugary gratification. You swallow so hard, you feel the sides of your throat rub together painfully.

"I think you're freaking amazing, Y/N. Every time I look at you, I always want to make myself better. For you. I want to become the best version of myself in hopes that it'll satisfy you and garner your attention. And I really like that you do what makes you happy. I absolutely love it when you write in English because you're always so focused and serious, plus, you make that really cute face when you're concentrating and it always makes my heart beat a little faster and it makes me hate that I sit in front of you because I have to keep finding stupid reasons to turn around just to look at you and I just think you're the most amazing, admirable, lovable person ever," Namjoon lets out. His words are rushed and desperate and you melt like goddamn candle wax.

"I'm— Wow, I'm— thank you, Namjoon. That really means a lot to me," you stutter, not really knowing what to say at first but finding your words soon enough. "Oh, and I feel the same way," you add, somehow missing the main point of your response. It doesn't matter anyway. He knows now. That's all that matters.

"Wait, really?"

You let out a laugh. "Yeah, Namjoon. Is it that hard to believe that I like you too?" you reply, a homage to your previous conversation.

Namjoon smiles a small smile, then it widens, and widens, and widens, until he is flashing you a blinding grin that could outright beat the glare of sunlight. "You said that you like me," he points out, eyes shining.

It is your turn to blush in embarrassment, cheeks feeling hot as you begin to sink into yourself, hair falling from behind your shoulders to hopefully make itself useful as a curtain to shield your red face from Namjoon. Something in Namjoon's chest begins to splinter at the sight. He is so very tempted to pull out his phone and snap a picture of you but he holds himself back at the thought that he is positive he has many more chances to do so. His ribs nearly break in half because of how hard his heart beats.

"It's a good thing that I like you too," he says gently, smile now gentle instead of blinding. "Also, we have a plot now!" he exclaims in excitement as he slides the pen and paper closer to himself, ready to start on your assignment.

"Wait."

"Yeah?"

"So, we're, are we? You know... Um, dating now?"

Namjoon's eyes widen in horror and he deflates himself, a disappointed frown pulling his eyebrows together at the centre and turning the corners of his lips down. "Shit, I'm sorry I didn't ask— I just assumed—" he cuts himself off, clearing his throat dramatically.

"Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?" he asks. Somehow, he still feels nervous even though he knows that you answer is a resounding, "Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend."

Namjoon lets out the breath he didn't even know he was holding and it comes out in a relieved sigh. "Thank God because if not our story would have a horrible ending," Namjoon comments, picking the pen back up and clicking it open.

"Let's write that," you cut in before he can say anything else. "Write a sad love story?"

Namjoon is going to tell you no, to completely disapprove of your idea because writing a sad love story is one thing but writing a sad love story that will be handed up to your teacher for her to grade is another thing. But then, he sees your eyes glisten in determination and he dispels his thoughts immediately, folding into himself like a goddamn lawn chair. He can't believe he was just about to say no to you. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Please? I'm better at writing angst. Plus, we have a happy ending and that's all that matters," you press, trying to convince him. You don't have a real reason other than the fact that you write angst better. You also don't really know why you want to write angst right now when you feel as if you could fly. But it doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore. Namjoon is your's now.

Namjoon flashes you a dimpled smile, eyes curling up and glittering with mirth and unadulterated belief in you. You can't help but think that you want him to never stop smiling like that, looking at you like you are some sort of celestial being, hailed from the sky solely to bring him every sort of merriment known to mankind and the heavens. The thought of him thinking of you like that scares you, because you are always afraid of not being enough. But Namjoon diminishes all of your worries with a short sentence, manhandling them by the throat and shoving them off a cliff.

"Okay, I believe in you."

70 notes · View notes

atlafan · 5 years ago

Text

Take it Slow - Part Eighty-Three

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: fluff

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

You wake up to Harry’s crushing weight on you. You had no idea how you could have possible ended up like this since you thought you fell asleep on him. Your eyes slowly open, and you’re met with the headache you figured you’d have. You look around and see everyone else still fast asleep. Harry rolls over and you feel the air come back to your lungs. You were cozy and didn’t feel like getting up just yet so you decide to spoon Harry for a bit.

Eventually you all sit up and try to come back to life. Harry sits up and smiles at you.

“Happy birthday, angel.” He says into your ear and kisses your cheek.

Before you can say thank you, Rachel and Sarah dog pile on you and scream happy birthday. You giggle and playfully tell them to get off you.

“We’re gonna make pancakes for breakfast.” Rachel says.

“And mimosas. Need new alcohol to flush out the old.”

“Good idea.” You smile.

They go into the kitchen while the rest of you clean up the living room. You go upstairs just to brush your teeth and wash your face. You didn’t feel like getting dressed yet. Harry did the same. You both plop on the couch while you wait for breakfast to be made. He throws his arm around you and you snuggle in close.

“So, that was your ex at the bar last night?” Harry’s face goes pale.

“Surprised you remember.”

“I was fucked up, but I certainly wouldn’t forget threatening someone.”

“That was pretty cool.” Niall says.

“That was the girl you saw before me though?”

“You make it sound like I was with her and then with you right away. It was like three years ago.” He groans. “I have no idea why she got so mad either.”

Sarah comes over with a plate of pancakes, topped with plenty of butter and a little syrup, just how you like it.

“I’m so spoiled, thank you.”

“You’re the baby of the group, you deserve to be a little spoiled.”

She laughs and sits with Niall with their breakfast. Rachel and Mariah sit down as well. Rachel hands Harry the banana he requested for his own breakfast.

“Seems like it must have been a bad break up if she was so aggravated to be running into you.” Mariah says.

“There wasn’t much to break, honestly.”

“Harry.” You look at him. “You were with that girl for seven months, come on.”

“Wasn’t in love, didn’t see it goin’ in that direction, and she thought it was more than it was. Remember, I told you I ended it when she wanted a key to my place? Didn’t want it with her.” He shrugs and bites into his banana. “Clearly she found someone else, good for her.”

“She said you only liked being called by your name.”

“I did, at the time. Pet names would have just led her on more.” Everyone’s looking at him. “I…was not a very nice person back then, okay? Can we drop it?”

You place a hand on his knee and give him a little squeeze.

“I thought she was going to wet herself when you got in her face.” Rachel laughs. “I love when you get feisty.”

“She was disrespecting my man! What could I do?” You shrug and finish up your pancakes. “That was so yummy, thanks guys.”

“What time do we need to be at the ferry?” Harry asks Sarah.

“In like an hour and a half. It won’t take long to get there, but we should all probably get dressed.”

You all go upstairs to get dressed. Harry watches you take a pair of spandex shorts out, along with a pair of shorts to wear over them, ones you would wear to the gym. You pull out a sports bra, and a tank top you would also wear to the gym. You look up at him.

“We’re gonna be doing a lot of walking, might get sweaty.”

Harry nods, and picks out a pair of shorts a graphic t. You flip your hair over and put it up into a messy bun. Your phone goes off after you get dressed and your face lights up.

“Hello?” You put the phone on speaker so he can hear your Nannie sing happy birthday to you. Your eyes fill with happy tears. You take it off speaker once she’s done. “Thank you.” You giggle.

“How are you, baby?”

“I’m great!”

“What are you up to?”

“I’m at the Cape with all my friends, and Harry. We’re going to the Vineyard in a bit.”

“Oh how nice! Good weather?”

“Mhm, it’s been beautiful all weekend so far. We got lucky.”

“Oh, I’m so glad honey. Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thanks Nannie, I love you.”

“I love you too, precious.”

You hang up and smile.

“That was really cute.” Harry says.

“She’s done it forever.” He kisses you on to top of your head and you both head downstairs.

You all pile into Sarah’s car, and Niall drives to the ferry. You get on and take pictures with your friends. You all find places to sit, and Harry puts his arm around you. When you get off you walk around for a while. There was a neighborhood with all of these brightly colored homes, and later you come to the house with all of the Betty Boop stuff out front. You and your friends all pose like her and Harry takes your pictures. Him and Niall pose too, causing you all to laugh.

None of you wanted to eat too heavily since you’d be going out to eat later, but you had to stop into the ice cream shop that seemed to have a million flavors. Plus, sitting for a bit didn’t sound like a bad idea. You get cookies and cream in a dish with some whip cream. Harry gets a strawberry cone. You all sit down outside the ice cream shop.

“How about a walk on the beach after?” Mariah asks.

“Great idea.” Niall says. “Work off this heavy ice cream.”

It was super hot out, and all the ice cream was melting quickly. That’s why you opted out of getting a cone. You look over to see Harry trying to lick at his ice cream so it doesn’t make a mess, but a little drips onto his hand. You giggle and lean down to lick it off him. He raises both his eyebrows.

“Should have grabbed more napkins.” You say with a smile. “Thought I’d improvise.”

“Like where your head’s at.” He chuckles.

All of your friends had seen you and Harry interact plenty of times, but never for this long of a stretch. This was almost a trial weekend for Sarah and Rachel. Rachel had told Sarah about the deeper conversation her and Harry had when painting. Sarah knew Harry wanted to marry you. Your friends were very over protective, and this was a great way to just really make sure he was right for you.

Your phone blows up with texts from friends and family wishing you a happy birthday. Sarah and Rachel had posted cute things on Instagram earlier in the day. Even Harry made a post, using some pictures you didn’t even know he had. It made you tear up when you first looked at it.

When you’re all done with your ice cream, you all make your way to the beach. You all carry your shoes so you can walk along the water.

“Sarah, what time do we have to check out tomorrow? Will we be able to go to the beach in the morning?” You ask.

“Yeah! We don’t have to be out until like 1PM, so plenty of time.”

“Perfect! I’d like to get a little more sun in before we have to leave.”

“Agreed.”

You all agree it’s been a great day, but you’re exhausted and wouldn’t mind just chilling out before going out to dinner later, so you make your way back to the ferry. Harry stands off to the side with you as you make your way back to the main land. You have an arm around his waist and he has one around your shoulders.

“Quick get a picture of them.” Rachel says.

Niall takes his phone out and snaps a couple of pictures of you two looking off. Harry tilts your chin up to look at him and he puckers his lips. You smile up at him and kiss him. Niall gets a shot of that too. You all hang out in the living room for a bit, just watching some TV. You were sitting up against the arm rest of the couch with Harry laying at your side, his head in the crook of your neck. Your baby was tired. You stroke your hand through his hair as you hear his soft snores. Sarah takes your picture with him and you giggle quietly.

“So, we’re gonna go to that seafood place you really like, and then we’ll come back here to do cake and gifts and stuff.” Sarah explains to you as she flips through a magazine.

“Sounds good, I hope you guys didn’t go too crazy with gifts, this has been gift enough.”

“No, just some small things like we usually do.” She smiles and looks at Harry. “How can he sleep like that? Niall and I have to sleep butt to butt to be comfortable.” She laughs.

“Hey, you make it sound like we don’t cuddle at all.” He says with a frown, putting a hand on her thigh.

“No! We cuddle all the time, but we never sleep like that.” She points at Harry who is absolutely passed out.

“He’s always been like this.” You look down at him and smile. “Sometimes I wake up and he’s all the way on top of me. If I’m not sleeping next to him, like if he’s napping he sleeps with his arms crossed. I think he likes having something to hold onto.”

“It’s true, if he fell asleep on the couch in school he’d either be cross armed or spooning one of the cushions.” Niall laughs. “When we were campin’-“

“Niall, I swear to god.” Harry groans against your neck.

“Ohhh, I love when there’s something Harry doesn’t wanna share.” Mariah says. “Go on Niall.”

“It was really funny. Harry and Lou had to share a tent because Lou didn’t have one, so-“

“Niall.” Harry turns over onto his back and sits up slightly. “Here I am havin’ a nice nap, and you have to go and bring up campin’?”

“I’m gonna end up embarrassin’ myself just as much.” He laughs.

“Please, I need to hear this.” You say. “What happened?”

“I woke up cuddling Louis both mornings.” Harry says. “And both mornings, Niall came into the tent and joined us, so there.” You and the girls all look at each other with soft faces.

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” Sarah says.

“Yeah, we cuddle all the time.” Rachel says. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“You’re such a snugly sleeper Harry, it’s cute.” You poke one of his dimples. “I personally really like it, it makes me feel safe.” He looks up at you and smiles.

Later you all go upstairs and get ready for dinner. You pick out a flowy yellow sundress, and put your hair up into a high pony. You pull some pieces out like always to frame your face, and you put a little makeup on.

“You look so pretty.” Harry practically squeals. You giggle as he kisses your cheek.

You step back to look at him. He has a pair of tan capri-style pants on with a pair of loafers, and a salmon pink silk shirt.

“So do you.” You smile, and grab his hand to go down the stairs.

You all weren’t sure if you’d be drinking a lot, but you’d be drinking nonetheless at dinner, so you uber to the restaurant. You’re seated at a nice size round table when you get there. Harry was off speaking to one of the waiter’s quick, but you didn’t notice. He sits down next to you, and Niall is on your other side.

You all order your drinks and a few apps for the table before deciding on what you actually want.

“What are yeh thinkin’, sweetheart?” Harry asks you.

“I’m dying for a lobster roll to be honest.”

“Then you should have it.” He smiles. “Think I’m gonna get this veggie burger, it’s an avocado aioli, sounds good.”

You pick at the calamari that’s on the table when the waiter comes back over to take your dinner orders. You all talk about how you’re dreading to going back to reality soon.

“This seriously has been the best trip. As much as I miss Buster, it was so nice to get away.”

“You act like you weren’t just in London like three weeks ago.” Rachel laughs.

“Yeah, I suppose that sounded stupid.” You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “But that wasn’t a beach getaway.”

“Very true.”

“And we only have to go back to reality for like a week and half until we’re off to Ireland.” Niall says, squeezing Sarah’s hand.

“I’m so excited, what a perfect thing to do before school starts back up.”

“God, I’m not looking forward to getting into a hot and stuffy classroom that smells like old paint.” Rachel laughs. “Although, I have missed my students a little.”

“Same, I can’t wait to meet my new kids.”

“My next class starts in September, this’ll be my fourth one. It’s already flying by, thank god.” The waiter brings all the food over and you lick your lips before diving into the lobster. “Mm, oh my god, now I remember why I liked it here so much last time. This is a damn good lobster roll.”

You all enjoy your meals and more drinks. When you think the night couldn’t get better, you start to hear the restaurant’s birthday song, and your mouth falls open. All your friends were filming you and you smile and laugh as you’re sung to by everyone. You had no idea when someone had the time to bring your cake to the restaurant ahead of time, but you didn’t question it. It was beautiful.

“Thank you everyone!”

One of the waiters leaves a knife at the table, and Harry cuts the came for everyone.

“This was all Harry’s idea, but the way.” Sarah says and you smile at him as he takes a bite of cake.

“Thank you sweetie, this was so nice.”

“He had the cake made at this really nice bakery too.” Rachel says.

“It was all the two of you would let me control out of this whole weekend, I had to do something big.”

You all enjoy the cake and pack up the leftovers. You uber back to the house and your friends have you sit on the couch while they all grab their gifts for you.

“You guys really didn’t have to do anything more for me, honestly.”

“Oh stop it.” Rachel hands you a drink and you smile. “Of course we did.”

Sarah hands you her gift first.

“I’ve been working on this for months so I hope you like it.”

You tear open the wrapping paper and gasp when you see the homemade scarf she knitted.

“Oh my god, I love it! This is beautiful! I love the patterns.”

“I know you can’t wear it for a while, obviously, but you wore so many this winter, I thought I could add to your collection.”

“Thank you so much, I can’t wait to…hold on.” You wrap the scarf around your neck. “Well?”

“It’s perfect!” You hug your friend and giggle.

Rachel hands you a big, and you dig into it. You laugh immediately, and pull out the t-shirt she got you.

“You can only wear that for a year.”

It was a white t-shirt with a picture of that episode of Spongebob, and the caption says, “I thought of something better than being 24…25!”

“I got it off Etsy, I just couldn’t resist.”

“I love it! I’m gonna wear it all the time, this is hilarious, Rach.” You slip it on over your dress and scarf. “I’m really feeling this vibe.”

Mariah hands you a card.

“It’s just a gift card…” She blushes.

“Thank you so much!” You open it up and smile at the card. “I’m glad we’ve become such good friends too. Wouldn’t want anyone else as my boyfriend’s work-wife.” You both laugh.

Niall looks at you and hands you his gift. You smile and unwrap it. You had no idea what it could be. You tear open the wrapping paper, the same Sarah used so she must know what he got you. You gasp and look at him in shock.

“You got me a Stranger Things version of monopoly?”

“For the next game night.”

“I love it! Thank you.” You hug him.

“Okay, Harry, your turn.” Sarah says to him and he sits next to you.

“I had a tough time with this. I’ve gotten yeh earrings, a chain, and even that watch.” Your heart starts to race. The only other piece of jewelry he could possibly give you was a ring. Was he going to propose in front of your closest friends? How sweet! “And we already went to the concert, but I still wanted to get you a little something.” He slips a card out from his back pocket and hands it to you. You open it up and see an itinerary for a round trip ticket. You look up at him confused.

“Another trip?”

“Not for you…you were really sad that your Nan couldn’t come up for our house warmin’, even though you had gotten to see her in Aruba…and you always talk about how much you miss havin’ her around for your Jewish holidays, so I’m flyin’ her up for the New Year in September. And she’s goin’ to stay with us so you don’t have to share any of your time with her, cause I know you hate that.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you start sobbing. You covers your eyes with your hands. Harry isn’t sure what to do, and neither is anyone else.

“That is…” You say in a high pitched voice between your tears. “The sweetest things anyone’s ever done for me.” You lunge on top of him to hug him. He chuckles and rubs your back. “I love you, thank you so much.” You kiss him.

“You’re welcome, happy birthday.”

You look at everyone and wipe your tears away.

“Thank you all so much, this all means so much to me. I’m so lucky to have all of you.” You all share a group hug.

You had thought to use the fire-pit tonight, but it was drizzling outside, so you all opt for getting cozy in pj’s, drinks, and another movie. You went to call your Nannie again to tell her how good she was at being sneaky. You talked with your mom for a few minutes too so she could wish you a happy birthday. Your siblings had all texted you during the day.

You were all hanging out and just being cozy, and you loved it. Sarah had made frozen margaritas, your favorite. You also dove into a much needed second piece of cake.

“So we’ll go to the beach for a bit in the mornin’?” Niall asks.

“Yeah, if it’s not still raining.” Sarah says. “Then we can come back and pack everything up. The kitchen is all cleaned up, and the air bnb people said they would send a service in to clean out the fridge and what not. We don’t even need to make the beds up.”

“Love when they make things so convenient.” Rachel says. “Harry, don’t you use air bnb for your flat in London?”

“Yeah, my sister is the cleanin’ crew though.” He laughs. “We just tell the people to strip the bed and take out all their trash. She’ll do some of the easier things, but will hire a maid if she thinks the mess is too much for her to take care of.”

You all decide to watch I Love You, Man, another one of your favorites, before going to bed. There were a few times you laughed so hard you cried.

“It’s just the way he says Jobin, it kills me.” You wipe some tears away.

“Nice that both of your boyfriends are in this movie together.” Harry jokes.

“I regret ever telling you I liked them.” You shake your head.

“Honestly, as gay as I am, I would fuck Paul Rudd.” Rachel says and you all burst out laughing. “I mean, look at him!”

“That’s what I’m saying! And look at baby Andy, he still had the curls! Oh my god, next movie night we have to watch Hot Rod, please, we have to.”

“Yes! I haven’t watched that in years.” Sarah says.

When the movie ends you all go up to bed. You couldn’t wait to just wrap your arms around Harry. He lays his head on your chest.

“I love you so much, thank you for everything.” You kiss the top of his head.

“I love you too, you’re more than welcome.”

“How did you even pull all that off?”

“Asked your mum for her phone number. It was a bitch gettin’ her to let me buy the plane ticket, she started yellin’ at me, but I yelled back, I stood my ground. She started laughin’ and gave in. She was really excited.”

“It’ll be so great, she and I can make her brisket together. We used to have the New Year at my house growing up, it was so much fun.”

“I’m glad I could do this for you then.”

“My boss is gonna think I don’t like working anymore with how much time off I’ve been taking. I’ll definitely take a few days while Nannie’s here.”

“You won’t need too much, just Friday and Monday.” You hum your response.

Harry had another reason for wanting your grandmother there around that time…but that would be revealed to you later.

#take it slow #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #hope you like!

207 notes · View notes

hopeshoodie · 5 years ago

Note

Pros and cons with dating the boys?

I’m gonna have to answer this in separate posts because I’ve just finished Bobby’s and it’s already too long. I’ll tag these all #pros and cons (and maybe do them for s1 and s3)

Bobby McKenzie

Cons:

He’s so insecure. He never realizes how genuinely delightful he is because he has this huge impostors syndrome thing, and constantly thinks he’s going to be ‘exposed’ as not genuine or not funny. This manifests as him overcompensating around new people- being excessively jokey. That’s a problem if MC is ever with her parents/boss/networking, because while she loves his goofy side she can’t always drop all pretenses to be silly with him.

HE NEEDS TO GO TO THERAPY! No one wants to be told that, and it’s a huge insecurity for him that MC thinks so.

He doesn’t agree to run around in the rain with MC. That’s a major con for me.

He’s not really protective because once they’ve built up trust he Trusts Her. This can be annoying if MC’s ever trying to be bratty/make him jealous.

He internalizes everything, which is good for when MC wants to win arguments, but really bad for actually resolving issues. Little things tend to build up- MC and Bobby don’t fight often, but when they do it’s about a million things at once because they don’t communicate well.

This is just a headcanon but I feel like Bobby is an atheist and is super condescending towards religion, which can absolutely create issues if MC is religious.

His last name. Don’t get me wrong, it matches his first name, but I’ve met too many bitchy McKenzies and MacKenzis to want that as my surname.

He’s great at baking (but usually only brings extras home from work, so it’s not often something that MC specifically likes. She of course feels compelled to eat them because Bobby! Made it! But it muddies the water of what MC actually likes because he just assumes she enjoys everything she tries. This culminates in her baking a birthday cake flavor that she really doesn’t like, which seems like a debacle in the moment.

He dresses like a 14 year old boy or a 29 year old lesbian.

His love language is quality time, which can be annoying to MC if she’s busy with work or has a different language because she hates making him feel unloved or forgotten about. Especially if she embraces celebrity status on social media after the show, I think Bobby takes it personally when she’s on her phone if they’re out together or talking.

Pros:

*slaps his icon* this bad boy can fit so much love in him. Seriously. He just understands where she’s coming from, is so forgiving and supportive, and above all else cherishes MC. Obviously all the LIs do (I think Noah, Gary, and Bobby are the most outwardly loving), but Bobby absolutely dotes on MC.

Obviously the most amazing hot chocolates/cakes/desserts/breakfasts ever. Combine that with MC being a good cook and their home always smells delicious.

He’s willing to wait for her forever, so if she needs to travel for work/wait before having kids until they have savings/wait to introduce him to her family until she’s sure it’s real, he’s supportive.

Goofy baby! It always annoys me when Marisol scolds MC for sliding around the grocery store or Rahim rolls his eyes when MC says something off color. Bobby never lets one of MC’s jokes flop.

He’s a good dad. Probably one that people roll their eyes at because he goes all out with everything- wearing a princess dress in public if his daughter asks and absolutely decking the house out with christmas lights- but he loves those kids more than anything. MC won’t have to worry about always waking up with the baby because he is right there with a bjorn and a bottle. They’d raise really well-adjusted and loved kids.

He’s not super invested in his job. Yes he absolutely takes pride in Bobby’s Boops, but he’s happy to take time off when needed and delegate to other people. I think the shop makes decent profit, but it’s not about expanding or maximizing at all. He pays a living wage and respects all his workers. If they ever fall on hard times that won’t become a major stress in the marriage- he’s willing to close up shop and look for the next thing.

#pros and cons #ask #litg #litg s2 #bobby #headcanons

68 notes · View notes

grimelords · 6 years ago

Photo

I’ve finished my September playlist, only almost a month later. It’s got everything, The Weeknd, desert psychedelica from Niger, and Australian yodelling from 1941. What more could you want!

listen here

and if you’re interested, sign up for my tinyletter to get these playlists delivered to your inbox here

XO / The Host / Initiation - The Weeknd: First of all Trilogy is a masterpiece. The Weeknd is a legend forever for this alone. Back when he was an anonymous character and before he tried to pivot to being a proper pop star and started beliving his own bullshit. This trio of songs for me is one of the highlights of the whole thing because this is where things really take a turn and it serves as a nice flipside to earlier songs like Glass Table Girls (even quoting some of the lyrics from it in a very cool reprise). Where most of the songs from House Of Balloons are about his own descent into this hedonistic life, by the time you get to Echoes Of Silence he lives there comfortably, and he's turned from cool, dark and tormented to coldly evil and calculating. He's the master of the dark palace and he's drawing this woman in. The chorus of XO is straight up cult language 'all we ever do is love, open up your mind you can find the love'. She's broke and addicted trying to escape her life and he offers her this community. Which is where Initation comes in and things get really dark. This song feels like the real truth of those stories you hear of Drake flying instagram models around and it's a masterpiece of the dark underside of the drugs money and models bragging you're used to.

Sociopath (feat. Kash Doll) - Pusha T: Get a load of this new Pusha song where he's got Rodney Dangerfield ghostwriting for him. I got a bitch that'll master your card.. my wife ova hea!! Also the funny gritted teeth way he says it cracks me up. He also says boop bop be boop bop. There's so many good moments in this very silly song from a man that is normally terrifyingly serious.

Ice Cream - Muscles: I suddenly remembered this song the other day and I'm so glad I did. A good example of how you can get so much feeling out of music that has no relation at all to the lyrics. In the right mood this song makes me so emotional and I can't even pin down why. The way he sings 'ice cream is going to save the day' somehow just makes the urban alienation of the verse even more pointed. It's such a silly little dance song and that's what's so strong about it. It's dancing at night and unsuccessfully trying to forget what happened today.

Running - Gil Scott Heron & Jamie xx: It’s extremely strange that this remix album ever happened, thinking back on it. Stranger still that a Gil Scott Heron song got remixed by Jamie xx and then remixed again by 40 and turned into a Drake song in I’ll Take Care Of U and all three versions rock. Anyway, this song and this whole album remain fantastic - it still sounds futuristic in a way where nobody else really followed Jamie’s sound, everything else went a different direction so this an In Colour feel more and more unique to me as time goes on.

Boyfriend (Repeat) - Confidence Man: I’m in love with this album. It’s the closest I’ve found so far to the level of absolute fun in dance music since Duck Sauce’s album. I love the the attitude of her lyrics, which carries through the whole album. I love when her Australian accent peeks out for a second on a few words. I love his rebuttals that almost but not quite put it over the edge into a comedy song. I love the big fading out leadup to the drop near the end where a huge throat singing drone just swallows the whole song for a second.

Ever Again (Soulwax Remix) - Robyn: Extremely hot remix alert!! Thankyou to Zan Rowe's Monthly Mixtape playlist for putting my onto this.Sometimes all you need is one ferociously hot bassline to make a life complete.

$50 Million - !!!: !!!’s new album has one of the best covers I’ve seen recently, I advise you to check it out. It’s interesting to be so far into your career (this is their 8th album since 2001) and still be writing songs about selling out, a concept which has largely disappeared from music discourse since musicians started making no money post napster. I vaguely remember the turning point being when Kimya Dawson, after blowing up via the Juno soundtrack, turned down a coke ad for a ludicrous amount and the blogosphere at the time turned on her and said she should have taken the money because she was living in a van at the time. Nobody gives a fuck about selling out anymore because bands make more from tshirts than streams so you’ve got to act like a brand just to make a living. Anyway I’ve gotten off track. This song rocks, especially for the breakdown near the end.

Tipped Hat - The Paper Scissors: A song I haven’t heard in over ten years that suddenly popped into my head the other day. I love the way this guy’s voice sounds, just completely committing to sounding like a hand puppet. I’ve been playing bass a lot more recently and so have developed the worst man habit of becoming more sensitive to and pointing out extremely hot basslines to people, so I’d be derelict in my duty to not share this one.

Heimsdalgate Like A Promethian Curse - of Montreal: I love this song about literally pleading with your brain to come good. Here’s a good quote about this album “I went through this chemical depression, and that's when I was writing a lot of the songs for Hissing Fauna. They're all songs about that experience. And I was experiencing it in the moment that I was writing the songs, and sort of asking myself: What the hell is going on? Why are you all of a sudden totally paranoid and plagued by these anxieties? And why is everything so distorted and confusing and fucked up? My lifestyle hadn't changed that much. And then I realized, well, there's something going on inside of me that I don't have control over, and then you realize how vulnerable you are to these things, these elements that you can't understand, or unless you go on medication and get it under control. It's like you're being betrayed by your body.” Something I really admire about this album is that the lyrics reflect black metal levels of mental anguish, he was absolutely going through it the worst anyone can go through it “I'd gotten to that point where nothing was working. I was borderline suicidal, and my relationship with my girlfriend had totally eroded and she'd gone back to Norway with our daughter and everything was totally fucked, and I was just like, What can I do? "The Past Is a Grotesque Animal" is about that.” But the music is one hundred percent committedly twee and I really admire the effect that that split mood gives. “The lyrics tell the story of what was really going on and the music sort of represents this other emotion that I wish existed. The music was really happy because I wanted to make something that would lift my spirits.”

Jesus Rabbit - Guerilla Toss: I love the wobbly weird bass sound in this weirdo UFO cult song. I love the bleepy bloop melody that runs through it and I love how fundamentally unstable the whole song sounds, like it’s made out of paperclips and foil and papier mache.

Suburbia - Press Club: I can’t believe I didn’t know about Press Club for so long. I only found out about them this performance https://youtu.be/bCmtc-T5Unk which I’m shocked to learn has less than 5k views considering it’s one of the very best TV performances I’ve ever seen.

Come For Me - Sunflower Bean: I’m pretty sure I’ve talked about this song before and I’m probably going to say the exact same thing but who cares! This song fuckin rocks. I love how assured it is, like “if you’re gonna fuck me then stop fucking around and fuck me already.” It also feels so musically similar to I Can Hardly Make You Mine by Cults to me, which is a great excuse for me to listen to that song every single time I listen to this song.

Thousands - Club Night: This Club Night album is really really good. It's like a really nice middleground between midwest emo and Cymbals Eat Guitars. The way this song blows up halfway through with 'what if we want it!!' is so good. This whole band feels like they're from 2009 but in a good way, the tail end of indie and twee with these prog or postrock structures where the songs just go and go, and you can just get completely lost in it.

Cemetary - Brutus: The first thing you've got to know about Brutus is the drummer is also the singer. Normally who plays what is not really important but in this case I think it's very important because it makes the drums a lead instrument more than they normally would be. When she's not singing my focus is still on the drums because they're linked and I absolutely love it. This song is great and every song I've heard of theirs is just as good, I love Brutus and they're one of the best new bands I've found recently. Someone in the youtube comments said 'there's something really special about hearing a song for the first time and just knowing you're going to listen to it hundreds of times in your life.'

Enter By The Narrow Gates / Spirit Narrative - Circle Takes The Square: I think that I think of Circle Takes The Square as a household name just because they have such an outsized importance in my own life when they're definitely not at all. They're legendary for making The screamo (good kind) album in As The Roots Undo and then taking 8 years to make a followup, which is this album Decompositions, but I don't really know if they're well known outside of like, people who have opinions about what were the hottest music blogspots in 2010. I chose both of these because you can't really have one without the other, the whole album basically runs as one long piece of music and so this just kind of jarringly ends at the end of Spirit Narrative, sorry about that please listen to the entire album. Because of the status As The Roots Undo enjoys I feel like this album was kind of ignored, or overshadowed by the reputation it was trying to live up to, almost exactly like The Avalanches with Since I Left You and Wildflower, when just like Wildflower it's a more expansive, developed take on the original sound that trades some of the rawness for a more polished and considered approach and comes out arguably better than the orginal. I feel like I have so much to say about this album but I don't really know where to begin, just listen to it.

Vitrification Of Blood (Pt. 1) - Blood Incantation: I am by no means a metal scholar, but I know that when the word 'blood' is in both the song title AND the band name that means it's good metal. I love this song, and this whole album is great. It's very 'classic' death metal but there's touches (beyond the extreme length) of psychedelica as well that puts it on another level you can just get lost in. The way the guitar goes to space at 3:40, and again properly into orbit at 6:50 is just magical. The more I listen to this band the more I understand those guys who only listen to metal, there's a whole ecosystem in here and it's really got everything you need.

Out Of Line - Gesaffelstein: This whole song is basically intended as an intro for Pursuit on the album but it’s so powerful just on its own. I love imbuing weirdo lyrics like ‘a bitter sunken love in a bleach blonde submarine’ with such ominous power through the commanding delivery. I love the way the big grunting vocals on the offbeat build to sound like a summoning ritual. I love making a big processed bell the centrepiece of your extremely evil sounding song. It’s sort of a shame that Gessaffelstein has never really gone back to the vision of his first album and has spent his time since diluting it down for guest production on Weeknd songs and the like because it feels like there’s still so much more to get out of this sound. That he hasn’t gone back and dug deeper makes Aleph stand out more and more as a singular masterpiece as time goes on.

Kamane Tarhanin - Mdou Moctar: Turning to Mdou Moctar after the new Tinariwen album kind of disappointed me, with all it’s big name guests nothing really hit me. I love this song though and I think a big part of it is the sort of loping, 6/4 rhythm that combined with the drone gives it this feeling of endlessly tumbling over itself in place, especially as the guitar heats up.

Achabiba - Fatou Seidi Ghali: I know very little about Fatou Seidi Ghali except that I saw she was supporting Sarah Louise at a show. From some googling it turns out that she’s the leader of a Nigerois band called Les Filles de Illeghadad who you can probably look forward to seeing on next month’s playlist. I also learned that the demonym for someone from Niger is Nigerien or to minimise confusion with Nigeria, Nigerois (said in a french way). They play a sort of desert psych in the realm of Mdou Mocter or Tinariwen, but this song (also the only solo song she has on spotify) shows her acoustic side. I love the swirling melody over the drone as the hand percussion keeps it in place and I love the very delicate vocals, but a probably unintentional thing I love a lot about this recording is the unmistakable iphone locking sound near the very start that instantly removes so much of the mystic exoticism that these sorts of artists are often written about with and places it firmly in the same sprawling modern world we all live in.

Floating Rhododendron - Sarah Louise: I love Sarah Louise. She’s a phenomenal guitarist and has such a big love for traditional folk music with her side project House And Land, but unlike everyone else in the genre is also very interested in pushing guitar forward to new and strange places. Her latest album was super experimental layered electric guitars and voice that still managed to maintain the deep connection to nature that runs through all her work. I would also highly recommend following her on instagram because her passion runs over. She’s regularly just out in the woods somewhere explaining how wonderful a particular mushroom is. This song one of the first ones I ever heard from her, and it’s back when she was just doing very beautiful 12 string acoustic work, but she recently added it to spotify and it’s a very nice reminder of where she came from and how far she’s gone in such a short time.

Lark - Angel Olsen: The new Angel Olsen is absolutely great. I love how much she is just completely going for it on this album, absolutely unleashing. Taken against earlier songs of hers I’ve loved like White Fire, where the majesty was in her quiet power and the ability to absolutely command silence with a whisper quiet song, this song feels like the direct inverse, an about-turn into all the gigantic majesty of swirling strings and top of your lungs vocals - going all out and leaving nothing on the table. The way this song blows up about three different times until by the end you’re caught in this gigantic swirling maelstrom of screaming sound is just out of this world.

Door - Caroline Polachek: Caroline Polachek’s brain is huge. When I first heard the chorus of this song I couldn't believe it. Are you allowed to have a chant that runs in a spiral like this be the chorus of your pop song? Is that allowed?

North, South, East And West - The Church: The Church feel like they don't get enough respect. They don't seem to be in the same league as Cold Chisel and The Angels and all the other dad rock Australian bands from that era for some reason. They're very good though and I've been really getting into this whole album and this song specifically lately. Maybe what's working against them is just how much his voice sounds like Bono's in this song but surely that was a boon at the time!

Western Questions - Timber Timbre: This has become one of my new favourite songs to sing. The way the words fit together is my favourite kind of poetics where they just sound incredible, phonetically, and can mean anything you like for large chunks. Like “the gelatinous walls of the seeds that seldom remain / while the bulls are browsing needles through computer casinos / honour the name”. Especially “bulls are browsing needles through computer casinos” is just extremely nice to say. I love the character of this song and am yet to completely understand what it’s saying other than personifying some worldwide blackpilled spirit of nihilist evil. What I love is the experience of all encompassing evil in this song, like a worldwide conspiracy connecting everything together that makes it all make sense. It doesn’t make you happier but it makes it make sense. I also love the finality of the big fill near the end that ushers in the outro riff that ties everything up.

Cold Cold World - Blaze Foley: I got heavily into a country music thing this month and spent a bit of time trying to find ‘real’ country, which of course turns out not to exist at all. The entirety of country music is built on a false nostalgia for an imagined time long past when things were real, some unspecified time in the collective consciousness between cowboy times and coal mine times. I don’t say this to say ‘country music is a fraud’ but that it’s built on a foundation of myth and that’s what’s so good about it. It’s constantly reframing the past as it relates to the present and is energised by the friction between them. Blaze Foley is a good example of this in the modern era because he seems to exist more as a myth than a man. He had three studio albums, the master tapes of which all disappeared through various means (lost, stolen, seized by the DEA) and so the majority of his surviving material is live recordings or long-lost studio recordings that resurfaced decades after his death when his fame and mythology already preceded him. He also thankfully lives up to the myth, he was truly a great artist and it’s a shame more of him hasn’t survived.

Where The Golden Wattle Blooms / Why Did The Blue Skies Turn Grey - Shirley Thoms: Further to what I was saying about country music before, Australian country is a whole other thing. Transferring the myth and the mythmaking to a new location adds another layer of abstraction. Shirley Thoms was the first female solo act to record country music in Australia in 1941 and was most notable for her yodelling of which she is damn fine. This is a great song and a good a starting point as any in trying to trace the origin of country music in Australia. That it's so english in its identity, so evidently imitating an american style (which is in turn imitating a german yodel) is just more good evidence that nothing is 'real' and traditions of the past and future are malleable at all times.

Talkin’ Karate Blues - Townes Van Zandt: Townes Van Zandt is widely regarded as a songwriter’s songwriter and one of the best country songwriters to ever live, but like a lot of great country songwriters also has one or two songs like this - strange comedy songs about learning karate and getting your arm ripped off.

Strange Tourist - Gareth Liddiard: This album is a masterpiece on the level of Ys and it feels criminally underlistened in my opinion. Luckily in the last week or so some renegade has done up the wiki article on it to a couple of thousand words so that's a start. Because this is a song I've listened to one million times and love a lot, it's hard for me to write about it in a general way so instead I'm going to talk about something very specific and new that I've only begun to appreciate recently. The way he uses the vowels of the japanese words to create these assonant runs in lines like "Koda Kumi sang a coda pink as sarin gas / I took a trip to Nagasaki in a rented Mitsubishi / Then went camping in the Jukai under Mount Fuji" and "They found him frozen in a hollow in Aokigahara forest where them harakiri weirdos go" is really something, and a nice illustration of the two sides of Liddiard's songwriting: densely technical poetics in a song about living with a housemate who was a real freak.

I Dream A Highway - GIllian Welch: I’m not even going to go into the lyrics of this because it’s such an out of this world perfect song but I’m going to say this: it’s really something that this song goes for nearly 15 minutes, sits on the same three chords the whole time and never ever feels long. This song is longer than Emily by Joanna Newsom but doesn’t feel like an epic of the same scale at all. It’s just a mournful slow ode to change and decay that goes on forever and could keeping going on for twice as long if it wanted to.

Deep Water - The Middle East: The way the vocals in the verses are delivered, trailing off and mumbling bits and pieces is somehow magical, like it’s more interested in communicating the gist and the feeling than the actual words. You can just pick whatever part of it you like. Petrol stations and a copper mine, the kind of place I think I could die. This song also has two minutes of silence at the end for album reasons so enjoy that.

listen here

#playlists

54 notes · View notes

traeuthaeou · 16 days ago

Text

YOU CAN'T READ . BELOW READ STREET - SECURED REDWOOD - OR HOMMEWOOD

SELF TO SELF THIS SONG - SECURED ME AND MYSELF …

READINGS ..

Johns Hopkins Carey Business School

4.542 Google reviews Business school in Baltimore, Maryland

Website

Directions

Reviews

Save

Call

Description

Located in: Legg Mason Investments (Division of Franklin Templeton)

Address: 100 International Drive, Baltimore, MD 21202

Undergraduate tuition and fees: 42,000 USD (2013 – 14)

Founded: 2007

Endowment: More than $50 million

Dean: Alexander Triantis

Campus: Urban

School types: Business school, Private school

Parent institution: Johns Hopkins University

Phone: (410) 234-9220

Blaze

0 notes

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr

.traeuthaeou

ALLAHTREU TREUALLAH TRUE SCRAMBLED LANGUAGEOLOGISTBlaze

Post by @traeuthaeou · 3 images

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · La Flaca Taza Cafe Corp Capital 3,163,131,218,131,653,697 Capre 3,163,131,218,131,653,697 Volume 3,163,000,000,000,000,00

Tumblr

traeuthaeou

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr.

traeuthaeou

ALLAHTREU TREUALLAH TRUE SCRAMBLED LANGUAGEOLOGIST

Founder Terry.

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr

Blaze

Johns Hopkins Homewood

Neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland

Blaze

traeuthaeou

5m ago

YORK OR WORK HOSPITAL Y LETTER 15 W LETTER 23

Avg cost after aid

––

Graduation rate

95%

Acceptance rate

From US Dept of Education · Learn more

Address:

620 W Lexington St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Address: 620 W Lexington St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Phone: (410) 706-3100

Blaze

0 notes

traeuthaeou

2m ago

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

is with

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr.

May 9 at 4:48 PM

Blaze

0 notes

Enoch Pratt Free Library

4.6301 Google reviews

Public library in Baltimore, Maryland

Description

Departments: Maryland State Library for the Blind and Print Disabled

Address: 400 Cathedral St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Architect: Edward Lippincott Tilton

Hours:

Open ⋅ Closes 8 PM · More hours

Opened: 1882

Phone: (410) 396-5430

Branches: 22

Director: Chad Helton, President and CEO

Johns Hopkins Homewood

Neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland

Blaze

#banking security#cnn business news#cnn tonight#ABC BUSINESS NEWS

Blaze

Post by @traeuthaeou

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · LA FLIRTA , Soda Brand · A Mission of Luxury Class Dinning and Service with A secured order menu and the time and secured.

Tumblr

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

2 notes

0 notes

brianprobablywill · 6 years ago

Text

A Good Day (Ben Hardy x Reader)

this is my submission for the big tropey writing challenge hosted by @supersonicfreddie ! i’d love some feedback for this!

2.7k words of fluffy post-borhap ben x reader with a nice helping of joey :)

also, i have absolutely no idea how to make tea, so forgive me for any discrepancies about tea that i might have written about lol

Joe was a good friend. Scratch that, Joe Mazzello was an amazing friend. The best friend you could ask for. He knew it. But sometimes, he truly wished he could just lock his two brickheads of best friends in a room and have them make out till they realized they were stupidly in love with each other.

He had to face the heat from both sides. Ben would go on and on and on about how beautiful Y/N’s hair looked, how lovely she looked in that skirt, how she was so kind and sweet and fucking amazing.

And so would Y/N. Ben’s blond hair, his beautiful lips, his smooth voice, and his stupid abs.

Truly, Joe Mazzello was a trooper. He had kept at it for two years. How he did it is a mystery to all.

But here he was, sprawled out on Y/N’s bed as she made herself presentable for Ben’s arrival.

“He’s not coming over for the first time, Y/N.” Joe scoffed, his feet resting on the wall. He picked at his cuticles, listening to everything Y/N was saying. “He’s been over a million times.”

“Shut up,” Y/N mumbled half-heartedly as she came over and sat down on the bed right next to where Joe’s head was. “Don’t do that,” she tutted, swatting as Joe pulled on his cuticle. Joe rolled over on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “All ready?”

“Yes.” Y/N smiled, flashing Joe her brightest smile.

Joe rolled his eyes playfully, sticking his tongue out as he sat all the way up. “You look beautiful all the time, and Ben sees it too. You don’t have to doll yourself up for him.”

Y/N leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “What if I say I’m dolling up for myself?” She wiggled her eyebrows at Joe.

Joe mirrored her actions, leaning forward himself as he commanded, “Then I’d say that lipstick isn’t dark enough, egghead.” He laughed along with Y/N, standing up as she did.

“Should I make some tea for him?” Y/N asked, only half waiting for an answer as she walked into the kitchen with Joe in tow.

“Do you even know how to make tea? Aren’t you a coffee snob?” Joe watched as Y/N filled up a mug with water and put it in the microwave. Joe chortled, “Ben is going to be downright scandalized when he sees this.”

Y/N stopped short of pressing the button, “Sees what?”

“Making tea in the microwave? You should be put behind bars!” Joe said, his British accent on point, all thanks to John Deacon. He propped himself up on the kitchen counter after busying himself with a jumbo pack of animal crackers. “I love you for keeping these for me, by the way.”

Y/N made her way over to Joe, pulling out an elephant from the jar. “Tell me how to make tea, Joe!”

“Do you have a kettle?”

“No.”

“Well, then Ben is going to have to make do with coffee.”

“I have an electric kettle.”

“Nope. Nothing but coffee’s bitter kiss for Benneth today.”

Y/N groaned, unhappy with Joe’s response. Ben still had half an hour to show up, so she pushed herself up on the counter herself, reaching in for another animal cracker just to get swatted by Joe. “Hey, I pay for these.” She argued.

“You should have thought of that before, birdie,” Joe booped her on the nose, before following the sound of the doorbell.

Y/N hung back. It was probably just a package she was expecting. But when Joe hollered for her, she got off the counter rather unceremoniously, sliding on her socks to the door.

Joe turned around, wiggling his eyebrows at Y/N as he pointed to the person at the door. “Look who it is, Y/N!”

None other than the Jones’s Ben stood in front of her — well, technically behind Joe — waving shyly.

“Hi, Y/N,” Ben greeted, letting himself in.

Joe began talking as he shut the door behind him, walking into the living room with his two best friends. “Y’know, Ben? Y/N can’t make tea.” He raised one eyebrow as Y/N scowled at him, continuing, “She was going to make it in the microwave!”

Ben opened his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline, before he sighed, relaxing again. “No problem, Y/N. I’ll buy you a kettle and show you how to do it,” he smiled.

Y/N could feel a blush creep up her cheeks. She needed a moment to cool off before she could behave normally in front of this handsome man. She excused herself to the kitchen, pretending she had something to take care of.

The moment Y/N had escaped to the kitchen, Ben spun on his heel, looking at Joe alarmingly. Joe was looking at Ben with narrowed eyes in return. “What?” Ben asked.

“Remember your reaction when I had tried to make you tea in the microwave? I can’t believe this.” Joe said, only partly joking as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Ugh, shut up.” Ben snapped, sitting down on the couch next to Joe. “Did I take it too far? Am I making it too obvious that I like like her?”

Joe couldn’t help but laugh. “Like like? I swear, you’re like fifth graders.” He shook his head.

“Graders? As in plural?”

“Yeah, you and Y/N,” Joe informed like it was the most obvious thing.

“Stop teasing me!” Ben hissed, “Just tell me if I’m making it too obvious.”

“If you ask me, you’re not making it obvious enough, Benno. Y/N can you get the animal crackers on the way out?” Joe called, taking a tone of extreme nonchalance with Ben’s concern.

Ben sighed, sinking into the couch. “I just don’t want to annoy her too much.”

Joe laughed at that. He genuinely thought what Ben had said was hilarious. “Trust me, that is the last thing that she’s going to think of you.”

Y/N walked out of the kitchen just then, flinging the jar of animal crackers in Joe’s direction, shooting him a thumbs up as he caught it perfectly. She smiled at Ben, who straightened himself up at her sight, turning around again and walking into the kitchen. She fanned herself as she got over her embarrassment before getting the three mugs of coffee in her hands, precariously balanced as she tried to carry them out.

In the living room, Ben had his hands buried in his hair, his eyes narrowed. “You’re taking it too far, Ben.” He scolded himself. As he saw Y/N walking out with three mugs in her hands, he rushed up at once to help her out. He could hear himself in his head to stop being such a fucking sweetheart to her lest she finds out, but he physically couldn’t stop himself. He took two mugs from his hands, passing one over to Joe.

Y/N sat down on the floor, resting her back on the wall opposite the couch.

She could only watch as Ben stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, looking between Joe and Y/N for a good half a minute, before he decided to settle down next to Y/N.

Joe couldn't find it all more amusing if he tried. It was especially amusing today because generally it never went farther from quick smiles and batting eyelashes. But today Ben was actually doing something, no matter how tiny. His shit-eating grin only got bigger as Ben justified his reason for sitting down next to Y/N.

“Just so we can see you better, Joey,” He explained, trying to be solemn.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s a must,” Joe responded, trying to bite down on his smile as he played along. “How will the world turn if you both don’t look at me?”

Y/N actually laughed at that, giggling while Ben looked at Joe jadedly. Ben turned to look at Y/N, smiling when he saw her giggling.

“It’s funny!” Y/N said.

“Yeah, it is,” Ben smiled, “It’s funny.” He was looking at Y/N endearingly.

This only peeved Joe even more. He was so stumped that neither of these idiots could see how much they liked each other. He found it extremely puzzling. That after two years of stupid pining — pining that was quite obvious, by the way — they still couldn’t figure it out. It was going to drive him to the nuthouse if he didn’t do anything about it soon.

He decided he would try to give it a shot today. “Y/N?” He set his coffee mug down on the floor near his feet before standing up. “Could I speak to you for a minute? In private?” Joe pulled Y/N into her bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

“Yeah?” Y/N asked. She looked worried, “Did I do something?”

“Oh my god,” Joe mumbled, rubbing his fingers at his temple. “A few things. One, I need you and Ben to stop thinking you’ve done something wrong all the time - or if you’ve taken it too far - or if you’re annoying each other - or if it’s too fucking obvious to each other.” Joe groaned, trying not to let his temper rise. He loved his best friends a lot. And he only wanted the best for them. But sometimes it got a little annoying to keep up with them all the time.

Y/N’s eyes widened, taking in all that Joe was saying.

“Two, I gotta go,” Joe said quietly. He didn’t want to leave — he’d just wanted a quiet evening with his best girl — but he was sure it would do some good to her and Ben.

“What? No, don’t go, Joe!” Y/N put her hands on Joe’s arms, a distressed look on her face. “I thought we were going to spend some time together.”

“We’ll spend some time together tomorrow.” Joe smiled, “It’s Sunday, isn’t it?”

“Well, what are you gonna do, then?”

“I’m gonna pay some bills. Gonna get some work done,” he pulled the door open, holding his arm out for Y/N to walk out first. As she did, he pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her head.

“We were gonna watch The Emperor’s New Groove,” Y/N mumbled.

“You can still do that with Ben,” Joe said.

“I want you there.”

“Well, then watch something else. And make use of your alone time, please,” Joe winked, grinning wide, although he felt just a little sad on the inside. The Emperor would just have to wait until tomorrow.

“Benyamo, I am going.” Joe shot Ben a salute.

“Going where?” Ben asked, getting up and walking over to Joe and Y/N.

“Going home. Got some stuff to take care of. Nothing to worry about.” Joe assured. “How much longer are you in New York?”

“Another two weeks,” Ben mumbled.

“Well, then I shall see you soon, my friend,” Joe said with finality, pulling him into a side-hug before he left.

Y/N spun to find a red-faced Ben.

Ben chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just you and me, now.”

“Yup,” Y/N said softly, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sounds good.”

As Y/N brought out a couple of blankets and some freshly popped popcorn, Ben selected a movie. The pair sunk into the leather of the couch as the beginning of Jurassic Park played. Joe never allowed Y/N to watch movies he’d been in whenever he was around, so she’d barely seen any. Sue her for having never watched Jurassic Park.

“Aw, look at tiny Joey!” She cooed, holding a hand to her chest. Ben crunched on some popcorn as he laughed along, albeit as if he was holding back.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?” He asked, his voice strained.

“Sure,” Y/N helped, turning her body only slightly in Ben’s direction.

“Are you… never mind.” Ben mumbled, shaking his head as Y/N tried to coax him into telling. “Fine. Are you and Joe… a thing? Are you guys a thing?”

Y/N laughed, “Am I dating Joe?” She asked, her ears warming up. Her heartbeat quickened a little at Ben’s question. “No! Gosh, no.”

“No?” Ben repeated softly.

“Nope,” Y/N smiled. “I’ve known Joe since we were in diapers. He’s like my brother. I don’t have any siblings of my own, so Joe acts like one.” She shrugged, reminiscing about first meeting Joe for a quiet moment.

As if having stolen her thoughts, Ben asked Y/N, “How did you meet?”

“We lived next door. Our mothers would arrange playdates for us.” Y/N smiled, turning her attention back to the movie. She needed to see Baby Mazzello in his full potential. It was a cold night, so she rubbed her hands together to generate some heat.

She had a feeling Ben had his eyes trained on her. She couldn’t shake the feeling, so she turned to look at him herself, chuckling, “It’s cold, isn’t it?”

Ben nodded, pursing his lips together. He opened his mouth, closing it before opening it again. He unfurled his arm, inviting Y/N to shift closer. “Would you mind?” He asked, biting down on his bottom lip.

Y/N felt the loud thudding of her heart. Despite herself, she shook her head, “Not at all.” She scooted closer, letting Ben’s arm wrap around her shoulders. He rubbed his hand up and down, looking down at Y/N with a smile, getting a smile in return.

Y/N decided to test the waters even further. She leaned into Ben’s arm, letting her body relax. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

“Never.” Ben said, turning his attention back to the movie.

Y/N was starting to get extremely comfortable, wrapped in a blanket and Ben’s warm embrace. She leaned her head on Ben’s shoulder, closing her eyes.

“You’re not going to watch?” Ben asked in a laugh.

“I’m getting sleepy.” She answered.

“Should I pause it then? So you can continue later?”

“You can watch it, if you’d like.” Y/N assured Ben. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“No,” Ben laughed, “I’ve seen it before. I don’t mind just sitting here. Unless you want me to leave.” He added the last sentence as an afterthought.

Y/N laughed. “Do you want to go back to your cold hotel bed, Ben?” She looked up at him through hooded eyes, the beat of her heart loud in her ears. She felt a warm coiling in her stomach. Her toes felt funny. A nice funny.

“You’re very close to my face,” Ben whispered, disregarding Y/N’s earlier question.

Y/N nodded, whispering back, “Yeah.” She licked her lips, “I like you, Ben.” She fluttered her eyelashes close.

Ben’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

Y/N nodded. “You don’t have to say anything.” Even through all the sleepiness, she hated this sudden surge of confidence her body had decided to send her. She still felt like getting up, locking herself in her room and screaming into her pillow till she couldn’t. But for some stupid reason, to her, it looked like her chances were not all that bad right now. So she stayed put.

“No,” Ben countered, bringing his hand to Y/N’s chin. “I like you too,” he whispered, closing his own eyes. He pressed a kiss to her nose; the gentlest of kisses. It was almost only a brush of his lips. He brought his lips on her then, simply pecking once again.

Y/N didn’t take it any further either. She simply lost herself in the feeling of Ben’s warmth, his lips, his touch. She felt her crush reciprocated, and it felt fucking amazing.

She settled back down, pressing play on the movie, leaning her body on Ben’s. She could feel Ben’s body shake — one quick look told her it was from happiness. Ben pressed one final kiss to the top of her head, mumbling, “Today’s a good day.”

And Y/N agreed. A good day was what it was.

forever tags: @lv7867 @multifangirl17 i’m also tagging @supersonicfreddie once again for good measure lol

my tag lists are open and so are my requests! feel free to shoot me a message, i’d love to make friends! :)

477 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 7 years ago

Text

princeescaluswords replied to your post:

Alex Summers, after the most recent of 128979889...

Why don’t you write Marvel? You couldn’t possibly do any worse and I could use the laughs!

Lol, its a nice dream, but realistically I don’t think there’s any universe in which Marvel would ever let me write the X-Men.

Like, my very first story would probably have Bobby refreezing the Arctic while Storm heads up a team of elementals to combat climate change. And then a Republican senator and a Democrat senator would go on TV and make a bipartisan show of expressing their gratitude towards mutants for helping save the planet and this is the real future of humanity, this is them all building a world where they can live side by side in a mutually beneficial -

And then the broadcast would cut off because Cypher just hacked every satellite worldwide and said “all your binary codes belong to me now, resistance is futile, blah blah” before turning the camera to Sunspot who’s all decked out in his snazziest suit and dressed to the nines. Roberto yawns and flips the whole world off and says “LOL fuck you, the X-Men are done with respectability politics, we took a vote and our democratic process actually works, we don’t have a fucking electoral college. We only saved the planet because it happens to be the planet we live on, dipshits, nobody did it for you, you’re still cordially invited to go extinct. Or you can play nice and try getting along with the rest of us for a change but good luck trying to make Sentinels happen again, lmao, funding’s gonna be an issue for you pretty soon I think.”

He turns off the camera and goes back to planning his and Sam’s wedding, because look, I have my priorities, okay.

Then Mystique unleashes her new Fellowship of Evil (Same Name, But This Time Its Evil as in STFU, Its Ironic U Assholes) Mutants that she’s been recruiting from the ranks of the young and disenchanted. Overnight, the market is flooded with gold and gems transmuted from ordinary materials by mutant powers, as well as a bunch of shit ‘liberated’ from the coffers of the 1% via her Fellowship’s alliance with her son-in-law’s Thieves’ Guild. Value plummets instantly, and then technopaths join in the fun, crashing every banking system worldwide.

“Whoopsie, I broke capitalism, money’s worthless now, vive la revolution, everyone eat some fucking cake,” Raven sing-songs merrily from the chaise she’s lounging on while eating grapes. The city outside her window is burning. Meanwhile, a fiddler is playing nearby. She calls him Nero, because Aesthetic.

“Oh relax,” she rolls her eyes when Remy attempts to frown at her disapprovingly. “I had my teleporters evacuate the city before I set it on fire. I’m not a heartless monster, you know.”

“You mean you didn’t want to spend the next ten years dealing with your children yelling at you about innocent civilians and how could you,” Remy says dryly.

Mystique just shrugs and eats some more grapes. “Or that.”

Far-right dominated police forces and white supremacist militia groups attempt to forcibly establish martial law, except mostly they’re just standing around clutching their heads and trying to cope with the mother of all migraines as a gestalt of telepathic minds headed up by a Cerebro-powered octet of Jean, Emma, Betsy, Rachel, Quentin, and the Stepford Cuckoos psychically screams FAKE NEWS!!! into their brains every time their CO’s attempt to bark out new orders.

“Best school project ever,” Quire shouts. Emma smirks.

“Extra credit to the first person to psychically leak the full extent of just how extensively governments have invaded their citizens’ privacy with surveillance extremism in the name of national security.”

Jean attempts a half second of chastisement, but with them all linked this closely, there’s really no way to hide that she’s mostly just amused. Oh no, she and Emma are seeing eye to eye on something and there are witnesses and everything. The revolution was a mistake.

Atlanteans and mutant hydrokinetics team up to shove the worst oil and toxic waste and trash spills up onto the shores of every beach marked ‘privately owned’. The mile-wide ‘island’ of plastic debris that formerly sat in the middle of the Pacific is now parked off the coast of Malibu.

There’s a twenty foot demon from Limbo sitting in the Oval Office. It burps. Illyana beams and boops its nose. “Good boy.” It wags its tail and breaks the Oval Office.

Kitty and Kurt direct teams of similarly powered mutants in raiding the top secret R&D facilities of major pharmaceutical companies for all their research on diseases that never made it to mass production because they decided those treatments or cures wouldn’t be profitable in the long run because healthy people don’t need to spend a ton of money on medical care. Teams of healers are standing by to vet the viability of various research, while Hank, Cece and other mutant geniuses are already working on filling in the gaps on all the projects that were shutdown and Forge, Madison Jeffries and tech-based geniuses are converting existing infrastructure into the necessary machinery to take over mass production of these drugs, prosthetics, and sweatshop labor in general.

Speedsters and teleporters are redistributing food and stocking up the millions of properties worldwide that have just been sitting there empty for god knows how long, useless. Colossus is standing in the smashed remains of a mansion with his arms crossed sternly while a man who is definitely not meant to resemble the CEOs of either Tesla or Amazon or look like some kind of Musky Bozo hybrid cowers on the floor.

“You are a very stupid man,” Colossus says. “Why are you wasting billions funding research into space travel when there are aliens with a strong grasp of the technology in the ships that brought them here on every superhero team on Earth? You could have easily provided the Earth with working and widely accessible space travel by now if you weren’t so miserly.”

“Yeah,” Juggernaut says behind him, scratching his head. “Aliens have been coming and going from this planet for like fifty years. There are tons of fancy spaceships anyone could’ve just reverse engineered and mass produced by now. How come nobody’s ever done that and we’re all just acting like space travel is some far-off dream when everyone we know’s been to space like at least ten times?”

“Stupid people,” Colossus rumbles again. Musky Bozo wets himself and Piotr sighs and shakes his head. He didn’t even touch him.

Cyclops and Wolverine and their teams of bruisers are already done with the ICE facilities and have progressed to busting open prisons and liberating all nonviolent offenders. They inform everyone else that they can appeal to a panel of telepaths to read their minds and see for themselves that they’re innocent.

“Guilt determined by mind-reading?” Someone asks. “Lots of potential for sketchiness there.”

“Absolutely,” Scott says. “Which is why laws about boundaries and oversight have to be established. For now, its a volunteer basis only. Nobody has to get their mind read, but its an option available in the meanwhile as we sort out a better system for determining who’s been imprisoned for crimes of premeditated malice and abuse and who’s just been railroaded by an unjust and biased system.”

“So this is your new utopia, huh?” Sneers the prison warden, from the floor where he’s on his ass with a busted face because, idk, Reasons.

Scott just shakes his head. “No. It’s merely a start.”

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, but if its broke and you wanna fix it, you gotta start somewhere,” Logan says gruffly. “Shit was broke. This is ‘starting somewhere.’”

He and Scott share a very Passionate look of camaraderie. Rogue sighs loudly.

“Just fuck already, jfc.”

Logan grunts. He already offered, but apparently all Personal Business must wait until after the Revolution was over, because a Scott Summers who put himself first was very clearly an impostor, so its not like Logan could even fucking get mad considering Scott putting in a pin in sucking each other’s faces after their We Were Both Dead But Now We’re Not and Also What the Fuck Was Up With Us For the Five Whole Years Before That reunion was what confirmed that it was definitely the Real Scott’s tongue in his mouth.

“Alright, let’s move it people,” Logan barks, clapping his hands. “There’s three more joints to hit before sundown. We got a timetable here.”

Jubilee squints at him suspiciously. “Since when are you efficient?”

“Mind your own fucking business.”

At no point does anyone suggest they erase the most sacred sites of all the world’s major religions and call them all fake or randomly resurrect a bunch of dinosaurs and release them on unsuspecting and innocent populations, because those are terrible ideas and make no sense and just because they’re stinkin’ commies now doesn’t mean they’re fucking morons.

Also, nobody grows a ridiculous beard or stops using shampoo or starts wearing flip flops or robes, because apparently those are not actually essential components of being a stinkin’ commie or even just a garden variety peace-aspiring socialist. They checked. Extensively. It was almost a dealbreaker. Emma, Monet and Roberto all threatened to side with the Capitalist Pigs if that was not thoroughly clarified before proceeding any further.

Thus ends my first issue. I email Marvel the script. They email it back, almost entirely redacted in red, with the note “This isn’t quite what we were looking for. Do you have anything about a new cure for mutants, maybe?”

I email them back: LOL NO. MAGNETO WAS RIGHT.

I am promptly fired.

I go back to ranting about how Marvel sucks on the internet.

9 notes · View notes

lichlover · 7 years ago

Note

hey if you're interested, could you write some good good soft lupcretia? it's my guilty pleasure ship and lucretia deserves some lup-brand love

lucretia deserves everything but also i will never turn down the chance to write my two best girls. small nsfw warning for post… you know ;)

It’s just creeping past midnight when Lucretia can breathe normally again.

Of course, at this point, the IPRE has forgone all notions of a Circadian rhythm. They operate on their own time, divided between meals and research and all the entertainment they can get their hands on. As for the latter, Lucretia’s never felt particularly inclined. She has a job that never rests, particularly because the rest of her party seems intent on getting into the most ridiculous possible situations no matter the world. She’s never short on things to write. Her journals are covered in meticulous records of rescue missions, biological discoveries, the occasional fashion foray gone horribly wrong. The universe demands every iota of Lucretia’s attention, and for the most part, she provides it; faithfully documents every moment of their journey.

This moment, she thinks, is one she’ll keep to herself. The journals don’t need to know about the slow return of oxygen to her lungs, or her mess of thoroughly disheveled curls, or how she’s still waiting for sensation to return to her legs. She won’t write about the moonlight that fades through the window behind them, soaking a layer of tangled sheets and illuminating the goosebumps that prickle across Lucretia’s skin. There will be no mention in the IPRE’s official record of tonight.

There will be no mention of Lup.

Lup, who flops backward next to Lucretia and grins into the heated air. Her hair is just as rumpled as Lucretia’s, but on her it looks natural, sticking up in every direction with careless ease. The tiny hairs curling on her forehead are damp with sweat. She hasn’t said anything just yet, but Lucretia doesn’t expect her to—after all, she’s not feeling particularly conversational right now.

No; what she’s feeling is a warm, undeniable bliss that spreads from her chest to her toes. Drowsiness tugs at Lucretia’s mind, but she blinks hard and rubs at her eyes, because she’s determined not to drift off. Not now, when she needs to commit every moment of this to memory. Because she isn’t entirely sure what she’s just done—what they’ve just done—but whatever it is,she’s going to remember every second.

While she’s losing herself in trying to concentrate, she doesn’t feel the mattress shift next to her. Lup props herself on an elbow, extends a finger, and twirls it. She moves it closer in a lazy, corkscrew spiral and before Lucretia can react, gently taps it to her nose. “Boop.”

And—well, Lucretia can’t possibly keep up her reverie after something like that. She cracks, and Lup breaks into a wide, smug grin that sheds light into the darkened space. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, babe?”

“Honestly?” says Lucretia, and realizes her voice is still hoarse. It’s a strange thing, to hear herself so openly and quietly vulnerable around another person. “How good that was. How good… how good you were.”

Lup snickers. “That has got to be the gayest thing anyone has ever said to me, and you’ve got some tough competition in that department. Trust me on that one.” She reaches out and traces her fingers over Lucretia’s collarbone, making her shiver. “I dig it, though. I dig you. And—“ Her voice drops to a low murmur as she gets to the top of Lucretia’s sternum. “I’m up for round two whenever you are.”

Lucretia can’t say she’s not tempted. She’s never been in the habit of lying to herself, anyway. But she exhales and shifts, dislodging Lup’s wandering hand. “Maybe we could just… lay here? For a bit? If that’s okay, I mean.”

“Oh. Sure thing, sweet pea.” Without missing a beat, Lup stretches her arms over her head and relaxes onto her pillow. She releases a full, sated sigh as she cranes her neck upwards to catch a glimpse of the stars. “Gotta tell you,” she murmurs. “It’s such a small thing, but I dunno if I’ll ever get over seeing different constellations in the sky. I almost feel bad for Cap’n’port, y’know?”

Lucretia does know. Star charts are basically pointless to make anymore, but more importantly, she’s suddenly and strikingly enraptured by the sincerity in Lup’s voice. She’s gazing out the window with an upside-down view, with the night catching in her eyelashes and reflecting across her irises, and she looks larger than life itself. (And she’d laugh if she saw the way Lucretia is staring at her right now, play it up and pretend to bask in her gaze, but there’s something remarkable about the moment that makes it impossible to look away.)

Of course, right then, Lup glances over and notices Lucretia staring, and she breaks into the most awful, unfair smirk Lucretia’s ever seen. “Just can’t get enough, huh?”

“Sorry, just—just thinking.”

“You know I always pegged you for one of those introspective types? You’ve got a million things to say, and it all just happens right up here.” Lup tucks a curl behind Lucretia’s ear. “You should try sharing ’em out loud sometime, hon. I’m sure you’d blow us all away.”

Lucretia raises an eyebrow. “Or you could just read my journals. You know, several cycles’ worth of experiences and thoughts and whatnot?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want capital-S Serious Scientist Luce, I want spur-of-the-moment, spontaneous Luce.” She has a mischievous glow in her eyes that Lucretia recognizes from years of impulse decisions and blazing through spell slots. “Tell me something right now. Right off the top of your head. Don’t think, just open your mouth and go.”

Right as Lucretia does open her mouth, Lup holds up a finger, and she freezes. “Now, I dunno if you understand. You can’t think. No thinking allowed. Take that filter down, clear your mind, and just go for it. Ready?”

Resolutely, Lucretia nods.

“Okay—go!”

She takes a deep breath. What tumbles from her lips, absent any truly embarrassing quips or misspeakings, is, “You’re amazing.”

Lup snorts and tosses her hair, sending a shimmer of moonlight through each platinum-bright strand. “That’s it? I know, hon. I guess I was hoping for some kinda revelation, but that’s practically common knowl—”

“No,” Lucretia blurts. “I mean it. I… wasn’t sure what to think of you at first, but you’re powerful and intelligent and so kind, and, um,” she says, and wishes fervently she’d allowed herself some time to compose a better answer. This kind of raw sentiment isn’t her thing, and raw sentiment in front of the girl she’s had a crush on for the last several cycles is something different altogether. “You intimidated me, really, and I guess you still do, but I think the world of you, Lup. I’ve never met anyone like you before and I, um… I count myself very lucky that I did.”

She realizes then that she’s never seen Lup speechless. Mid-thought, certainly; like her brother, sometimes she takes a moment to collect herself before she speaks. This isn’t that. Lup is staring at her and Lucretia knows she’s fumbling for a reply.

Her voice is soft and light with sincerity when she says, “Thanks, Lucretia.”

Lucretia stalls, because she can’t quite recall the last time Lup had used her actual name. Screamed in the seconds before a death, perhaps. But she’s tired of the honesty that relies on impending catastrophe and obliteration and hellfire. She could get used to this quiet honesty, she thinks; the kind that manifests itself just minutes after midnight in a moonlit bedroom on a peaceful world. The kind that uses her name in a voice that makes Lucretia’s heart flutter.

“You’re welcome,” she says, and she means it.

Lup’s fingers return to Lucretia’s curls, pulling through them gently and attentively as she stares into space. “Anyway. That means a lot coming from Miss You’ve-probably-read-my-biographies. Miss Lemme-just-forge-this-signature-for-you. Miss Ambidextrous-and-possibly-split-brained. Don’t get me wrong, hon, I love it when people sing my praises—especially you,” she adds, absently snagging a curl, and Lucretia shivers. “But I really hope you’re not trying to sell yourself short here, because you’re something special. What’s your class again? Living grimoire?”

“Classified,” says Lucretia, and lets a smirk slip through her deadpan.

“Was that a fucking pun, Luce? Because if it was, I’m gonna have to get you back for it, and I dunno if you can handle me pinning you to the mattress again.” Lup’s voice drops, low and sweet with suggestion, then laughs as a flush spreads across Lucretia’s face. “Oh, wow, that act lasted all of… two seconds? Couldn’t keep it up, eh?”

Lucretia fixes Lup with the best glare she can muster while lying on her back. “I’ll have you know that there’s more to my personality than introvert journal keeper.”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s see what we’ve got here, again? A ghostwriter, deadpan comic, master forger, kickass magic user…” In one soft, fluid movement, Lup pushes a few curls off Lucretia’s forehead and lands a kiss there. “And the most useless lesbian I’ve ever met. You’re a catch, babe. I’m the lucky one.”

“You’re—you’re just saying that.”

Lup arches an eyebrow. “Then Zone of Truth me, right now. I’m not. Come on, is there anything you haven’t done?”

“Dancing,” says Lucretia.

She watches with a sinking feeling in her chest as Lup’s ears perk up delightedly. “Really. Really?”

“Really. I’m… terrible. The few times I’ve tried have just been genuinely depressing. It’s bad, Lup.”

“Oh my gods.” Lup giggles and presses a hand to her forehead. “Oh, I’m sorry, that’s just… the best image. What kinda dancing was it? Ballroom? Interpretive jazz? Please tell me it was interpretive jazz. Or breakdancing. You gotta tell me, ’Creesh.”

Lucretia sighs, even though she can’t keep her lips from twitching. Forget honesty. Honesty causes her nothing but trouble. “I regret telling you this already, you know that? I really, truly regret saying anything about it in the first place.”

But Lup is too busy snickering to pay her any mind. Lucretia relents. “One time it was waltzing, once it was the foxtrot, once was just at a party I got dragged to, if you must know. I just can’t do it. I trip over my own feet, and step on other people’s feet, and I’m just… I’m godsawful at it, and I’ve got no idea why. What about you, can you… can you dance?”

It takes a moment for Lup to blink the tears out of her eyes. To her credit, she does look like she’s fighting valiantly to regain her composure. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “Sure.”

“You—really? Are you any good?”

Lup’s expression drops in mock offense. “Did you really just ask me that?”

“Okay, okay.” Lucretia rolls her eyes and starts again. “How good are you?”

She grins widely. “Real good. Taako ’n I learned a while back, and we’d entertain at the odd tavern for some pretty good money. I can, uh… I can slow dance, quickstep, swing…? It’s been a hot minute, but we both still got it.”

“What did I say?” says Lucretia. “Amazing.”

“Oh, well, I don’t believe you can’t dance. Nobody just can’t dance.” The spark reignites itself in Lup’s eyes, and she sits up straight, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “I just had the best idea. Get up.”

Lucretia isn’t entirely sure if she can, but she isn’t about to tell that to Lup. She pushes herself up and shifts towards the edge of the mattress, and the chilled wooden floorboards make her toes curl and sends a shiver rocketing up her spine. Warmth clings to the sheets and every displaced pillow, but she realizes with a start that the night and the room itself are fairly cool.

Then, of course, the chill is replaced with an embarrassed flare of heat as Lup takes her hands and pulls her upright. Lucretia can’t stifle a tiny wobble, and because one of Lup’s many talents is impeccable perception, she notices straightaway. An endeared, teasing smile spreads across her face. “Still a little shaky, huh? I did good.”

“Please,” Lucretia mutters, averting her eyes. “What’s this idea of yours?”

“Okay, so—” With a couple of fluid steps backwards, Lup guides them out onto a clear section of floor. “You said you’ve never been able to dance. I think you’ve just never had the right partner.” She folds a hand in hers and slips the other around Lucretia’s waist, and Lucretia’s eyelashes flutter against the feverish heat of Lup’s skin. “So let me show you. What d’you think?”

Lucretia squirms. “I—”

“Great!” Lup tugs her a little closer, and Lucretia is struck with an intimate familiarity. They’ve just done something similar, she thinks, under a thin layer of sheets and between intermingled gasps. This couldn’t possibly be much different.

So she concedes and Lup leads her in a gentle, easy sway, shifting their weight back and forth but otherwise keeping perfectly still. It feels far too languid to be called a dance; like what they’re doing is something frozen in a honey-trap of time and space. But Lucretia can feel Lup’s breath skirting the top of her ear, and her heartbeat thudding softly against Lucretia’s breastbone, and her anxiety at the prospect starts to melt away. Perhaps this is dancing; perhaps it’s simply existing in the same space. Lucretia thinks the line might not be as clearly defined as she’d thought.

Whatever moment this is, that they’ve captured and kept for their own, it doesn’t dare her to make a fool of herself—it challenges her to forget, if only briefly, about remembering. She won’t have to try to remember this, she realizes. The memory will catch her before she can fall.

“Look at that,” whispers Lup, after a few long minutes of silence. “You’re doing it. Dancing. That wasn’t too hard, was it?”

The drowsiness is returning to smother Lucretia’s brain in a warm, sleepy fog, but she clings to consciousness just enough to mumble against Lup’s shoulder. “Guess it wasn’t.”

“Oh, sweetie, are you falling asleep?” Lup chuckles into Lucretia’s hair, ruffling a few corkscrew strands. “You shoulda told me you were zonked, I wouldn’t’ve dragged you out here with me.”

“Worth it,” says Lucretia.

“You flatter me.” She nudges Lucretia back, pushing her with a soft but firm insistence until they bump up against the bedframe. Despite her best efforts, Lucretia’s knees buckle, and she lets herself fall back onto the mattress. She crawls towards her pillow as Lup collapses into bed beside her. “Oh, boy. I think you had the right idea. I’m more cashed than I thought I was.”

“Sorry,” Lucretia mutters into her pillow. “Tired you out.”

She knows the sound of Lup’s smile; a huff of amusement that breaks through the silence. “Don’t worry about it, hon. Energy well spent.”

Stars flash across Lucretia’s vision, knitting themselves into multicolored galaxies as she slips further into unconsciousness. She thinks Lup says something else, although for the life of her she can’t make it out, and then Lup’s fingers thread themselves through hers and squeeze.

Lucretia falls asleep holding Lup’s hand, and the journals will never know.

#exuberantoctopus #ask #the adventure zone #taz balance #lupcretia #fic #mine #i've literally never written these girls before so i hope this is good lmao #i just love them!!! so much!!!!

204 notes · View notes