#I can’t remember the last time I was actually afraid of a clown

[kc5rings]

Ya know, I think I’m over my thing with clowns

Huh.

[navybrat817]

Where Did the Time Go?

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You decide not to drink during game night, which leads to an interesting conversation with Bucky. Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Light angst, tension, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) Previous Part of AU: We'll Always be Friends A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren’t sure what exactly happened between dinner and now, but you decided that the fun game night wouldn’t include drinking. You hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since your meal. Even then, you were pretty sure you didn’t have much. Sharon brought out a bottle of wine before everyone finished eating and you took a sip of your glass out of obligation. If she noticed you didn’t finish your glass, she didn’t say anything, which you appreciated.

But you should’ve known that Bucky would catch on.

“Not drinking tonight, huh?” He asked as he took a seat beside you on the couch. Steve and Sam set up a game table and were already a couple of drinks in. So were Sharon and Natasha. You weren’t worried about them though. They could hold their liquor.

But can I hold my tongue if I drink? Or am I using that as an excuse?

“Not tonight,” you replied, holding up your cup of water. “Sticking with water.”

“You’re acting like we need a designated driver when we’re not going anywhere,” he joked, throwing his arm around behind the cushion, the same way he had at the dinner table. “Afraid I’ll kick your ass in Mario Kart if you get a little tipsy?” He asked, grinning when you smiled. “We can have a tournament? Just the two of us?”

“Hey, one of us might need to go on a liquor or snack run. You never know,” you said, setting your water on the table before you sank into the couch. “And it isn’t exactly a tournament if only two people are playing, is it?”

“It can be. We make our own rules,” he smiled as he moved a little closer. “Remember the time we had a tournament? We went to that shady looking liquor store after Sam spilled the last bottle of rum. The guy behind the counter had a bunch of clown masks.”

You laughed a little. How could you forget? “Yes! We had to open the living room window so we could breathe. And the cashier was actually a sweet guy, but you glued yourself to my side before that because you were certain the guy had bad intentions,” you said. Bucky and his protective streak made you feel important.

Until you weren’t.

Bucky must’ve noticed the change in your demeanor since he stopped chuckling. “Seriously though. Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?”

“I feel fine. I just don’t need to drink tonight,” you said, touched that he showed concern for you before a weird expression crossed his face. “What? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“No. You’re, um,” he tapped a finger on his knee as he tried to find the words. “There isn’t a specific reason you aren’t, is there? You're not…” he trailed off, but his eyes drifted long enough to your torso to fill in the blank.

You never understood the expression about eyes widening to the size of saucers until you experienced it just then. “Are you asking if I’m pregnant?” You whispered, careful not to speak any louder than that. The last thing you needed was the group questioning why Bucky asked such a question. “If so, the answer is NO.”

The sigh of relief Bucky let out, you weren’t sure what to make of it. “Sorry. I'm sorry. You don’t owe me an explanation for why you aren’t drinking. I just. I don't know why my mind went there.”

You couldn’t exactly tell him you're worried about getting plastered and revealing how you felt about him. Drunk confessions worked for some, but you didn’t think the odds were in your favor. “I still can’t believe you asked that,” you half teased, pointing at your stomach. “Not to mention, I haven’t been laid in ages. So, unless it happens via immaculate conception, that’s never going to be the case.”

The odd expression was back on Bucky’s face. What was his deal? “When was the last time you went on a date?” He asked with more interest than you expected.

“Months ago. Minimum,” you said, looking up at the ceiling as you tried to recall the exact day. “His name was Nick. We went on a few dates and he was nice enough, but he ended up getting serious with someone else. Haven’t gone on another date since.”

The clench in Bucky’s jaw almost made you smile. He had no reason to look so upset on your behalf. “I’m sorry. It’s his loss.”

“Don’t be. I’m kind of used to it,” you said with a nonchalant shrug.

“What the hell does that mean?” He asked, facing you on the couch and blocking the view of your friends at the table. “What exactly are you used to?”

Why does he sound upset? It's not like I’m not his girl.

“It means I’m used to guys not picking me,” you said honestly. As much as it hurt to think that way, saying it didn’t hurt as badly. “Think about it, Bucky. In all the time you’ve known me, when have guys ever flocked to me? When have you ever seen a guy take a chance on me when Natasha and Sharon were there? They haven’t and that’s just the way it is.”

“That’s bullshit. You’re perfect. And maybe people do see you, but you don’t see them,” he argued, quickly closing his mouth when he saw your expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“No, I think that’s exactly what you meant,” you said, sitting up to put some distance between the two of you as hurt filled his eyes. “I see just fine, thanks, but please enlighten me. Who saw me? Who did I overlook? I’d love an example.”

There was no reason to get so defensive, but did he understand how you felt? People gravitated toward Bucky and your friends. They always had. You, on the other hand, were on the outside of the house looking in. It was tiring to be the one knocking on the door.

“What about your old friend, TJ? You’re telling me he didn’t see you?” He asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice. It wasn’t a tone you heard from him before. It didn't suit him.

“TJ?” You asked, confusion written all over your face that you couldn’t fake if you tried. “TJ Hammond? My old family friend? Um, no, he definitely doesn’t see me.”

Not even close.

“He stayed at your place after Steve’s party,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he avoided your gaze. “Bet he couldn’t wait to see you. Probably went over the second you got back from the trip.”

Wait, is he jealous? What the hell?

You laughed a little, unable to help yourself when he raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he did stay at my place for a bit after Steve’s birthday bash a couple of years ago. He had an issue with his boyfriend.”

Bucky did a double take, which would’ve been humorous if not for the stricken look on his face. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. The guy he dated at the time was a HUGE asshole and they had a falling out. His parents refused to let him go back home, so he stayed with me. And I couldn’t kick him out. He needed a friend,” you said, your brows pinching when you recalled how TJ cried on your sofa. It was a heartbreaking sight. “He has a new boyfriend now who treats him well and he couldn’t be happier. And I couldn’t be happier for him.”

Bucky blinked a few times. “So, you two. You never…?”

“TJ and I? No. Never dated, hooked up, anything,” you smiled with a shake of your head. “We adore each other, but in a brother and sister kind of way. I mean, we’ve known each other since we were in diapers. Even if I did find him attractive, nothing ever would’ve happened. You, Steve, Sam, you guys are much more his type.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, his face a bit pale. You worried for a second that he was going to get sick. “I thought you two hooked up,” he said more to himself than to you.

Where the hell did he get that impression?

“No, we didn't and we never will,” you said again before something he said dawned on you. “Wait, how did you know he stayed at my place? He asked me not to tell anyone where he was and I respected his wishes.”

Going through the dates again in your head, it wasn’t long after TJ stayed with you that Bucky brought Dot around as his new girlfriend. You knew you lost your chance to admit your feelings because he had someone by his side. Someone who wasn’t you.

“Come with me,” Bucky said, taking your hand and pulling you up from the couch before you had a chance to argue. It was hard to keep up with his long strides and he didn’t look back when Steve called after the two of you.

“What’s going on?” You asked as he pulled you outside and slammed the door. You watched as he took a few breaths, like he was trying to steady himself. “Talk to me, please.”

“I wasted two years,” he whispered, tilting his head to look at the sky. “Two fucking years.”

What is he talking about?

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“I made a huge mistake and I regret it,” he said, squeezing your hand as he faced you. “And I can't go the rest of this week without telling you. I wasted enough time.”

“Tell me what? Bucky, what did you do?”

And can we come back from it?

That literary edging. I'm sorry! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bongo-clash]

Peacock Au Part 4

DP/DC week prompt: Eldritch Entities

'Joker has broken out of Arkham for the thousandth time, and is roaming the streets unhindered. Unfortunately for him, something finds him before the Bat does.'

(body horror tw || fic under cut!!) (Part 1 Here)

-

See, the situation is as follows: the Joker is out on the streets post-Arkham breakout, and he knows there’ll be an announcement issuing everyone to stay inside before it’s even been made. He’d be a lot more pleased about all that if the getaway car he’d arranged to be outside had actually shown up, but unfortunately the goon he’d left it to had bailed- whether it counted as chickening out or growing a spine was yet to be determined, though regardless he was fairly sure their brains would be outside their skull by the end of the night. As it is, he’s sticking around the shadier streets to avoid attention before he has access to more of his stuff. Right now all he has is an officer’s gun and the willingness to use it. Not much, but it’ll do. 

It’ll do for dealing with this kid in the middle of the road, at least. Just because he isn’t fully-loaded right now doesn’t mean he can’t have any fun, does it?

“Well, say,” Joker whistles, sauntering up into the dim-light of the open road for the first time that night. The boy before him is relatively plain looking; pallid, with big blue eyes and black hair half-blending into the shadows behind him, wearing clothes not quite suited to the sudden chill of the Gotham streets, just a t-shirt and jeans. Perhaps a little peculiar, especially alone, but nothing special. Just another face he’d probably wipe the life out of if it didn’t end up more interesting to keep him alive. “What’s a little boy doing here alone with all the big, bad wolves out tonight? Looking for some trouble?”

The boy’s gaze lifts from the ground he’d been staring at so intently and- wow, those blues are weird to look at! Although… are they blue? They look more green now that they’re catching the light, the way he’s heard the eyes of the little bird he did in do when he’s angry. 

Doesn’t matter, either way. The resemblance’ll just make scaring him more fun, something of a trip down memory lane. Even if the kid doesn’t look quite so frightened yet (shock, he’s sure. That’s happens). “I was just checking on something from a little while ago. Keeping tabs, y’know?”

“Oh, I know all about that. Gotham’s my playground- I know it like the back of my hand.”

“That’s great!” The kid exclaims, suddenly perking up, as if he’s only really started paying attention to the conversation now that something relevant’s come up. “In that case: can you tell me if anything’s been up in the last few weeks? No more shadows than usual? Nothing overly strange happening?”

It’s not often the Joker finds himself confused, but the lack offright or any other kind of negative reaction to his presence is starting to get on his nerves. Either this kid is out of it, or on something- but Joker knows how to spot a user, and he isn’t on something. 

He turns the gun over in his hand, pretending to admire it but really just trying to remind the boy of the current threat he’s being posed. “Well, I was a bit locked up the last few weeks, but I’ve got ears everywhere and I can’t say I heard a thing. Say, do you like clowns, boy?”

Something in that question changes the boy’s demeanour. His shoulders go back just a tad, like he’s leaning on a wall the Joker can’t see, and his stare shifts. It wasn’t on him before, he only realises it was focused just over his shoulder until they’re actually making eye-contact, and the Joker hasn’t been afraid for a long time and refuses to break that streak, but it is a lot colder than it was before. 

The boy’s grin is sharp. Joker can’t remember how many teeth people are supposed to have. “No,” He muses, casual in a way that implies confidence that implies danger. “No, I can’t say I’ve ever met a clown I got along with. Why, is that what you’re supposed to be?”

Okay, enough’s enough’s enough. He’s the Joker. He will not be made the joke, least of all by some nothing-no-one brat with a little too much confidence for someone walking alone on a break-out night. Incensed, he twists his grip until his finger’s on the pistol trigger, aiming it right between the teenager’s eyes. 

“Funny boy, aren’t you? Y’know, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, so you must be new. You don’t know the rules around here. You don’t know who’s at the top of the food chain. Allow me to fill you in.” He seethes. “When faced by the Joker, there is one thing you need to be aware of: no matter the circumstance, you are the prey.”

A thing happens between the pause at the end of his own sentence and the beginning of the child’s. “Hm.” The boy says, but it’s not confusion, and nor is it dread. His grin is lean and far too casual for someone with the business end of a bullet aiming right at their brain, but as the sound drags on sing-song it stretches, stretches, stretches-

Like shedding skin, the monster unfolds from the boy. Cold in a firestorm, the transformation is the inverse of a supernova, everything tumbling out as if desperate to spit its soul before caving back in to something witnessable. Almost the figure of a person, the opposite of a shadow, and the horrible cousin of a world-eater. Something flares out at the back, flowing like waves or feathers or a thing with eyes in all its centres. 

Eyes, then mouths. The aftertone sends shockwaves. Its voice is ice-needles and fingernails and pierce-static and laughing at him. 

“You think you’re bigger than you are.” It says, looming over him like the end of days or whatever he used to think death was before he’d forgotten to keep believing in it. He certainly remembers it now. “You think you’re bigger than you are, and you don’t know when to cow, and you are very, very mortal, and that is a horrible combination of things to be.”

“I know who you are. I know what you’ve done, and I know why you did it, and I know what will happen to you in consequence- and I have made choices not to interfere with someone else’s course, but I will tell you this now and once and never again. You are someone else’s problem, but if you try to become mine, I will unmake you.”

For the first time in perhaps his whole existence as the Joker, there is not a word he can say in response. He doesn’t agree, doesn’t refute, he doesn’t do much of anything as the form before him unwinds into rivulets, curling in on itself to reveal, once again, the boy. Blue eyes, black hair, pallid just like before and just like nothing’s wrong. But beneath it, that pretence of flesh and bones, he cannot unsee what he’s seen. He cannot stop seeing what he knows is hiding in there. 

The child gives him a very boyish grin that feels like it’s going to snap into a blackhole if he looks away. “You’re obsessed with Batman, right? That’s your whole thing, being his foil or something.” He crows. “You want to keep doing that ’til you kill each other? Leave me out of it, and he’ll still remember you existed.”

The sudden green of his eyes spreads out like a flashbang, and when the Joker squints, he is slumped over in his Arkham cell. When he comes to, the guards will gleefully recount how Batman got the drop on him before he could even get to one of his warehouses, knocking him out without a single other casualty- his shortest reign between imprisonment to date. 

It’s an embarrassment. 

He’s going to be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life. 

[minniesmelody]

Killer Klowns

Pairings: Gareth Emerson x GN!Reader

Summary: going to the drive in with Gareth to see killer klowns from outer space.

Pov: first person- Y/n

Genre: fluff

Warnings: clowns, slight cursing, Gareth kinda having a fear for clowns, mentions of sex if you look really hard, mentions of dead bodies. Not fully proofread, I was writing while watching it so there might be a few mistakes, please excuse them.

A/N: this part of the little mini series i created, its about going to the movies/ drive in with Gareth to watch different movies cause my boy loves movies, he is lots of things but one thing he definitely is a movie fanatic! Words cannot describe how much I love this movie, it’s in my top 5, I know lots of people shit on this movie but I can’t help but just love it! If you haven’t watched this movie yet, I 100% recommend it, it’s supposed to be a horror movie but it’s more silly and fun than anything, so if you don’t like horror movies, that’s completely okay, this movie should be okay for you to watch! 🍿also shorty is my favorite character so I had to make it Y/n’s favorite character, sorry not sorry. Also can we talk about the game coming out next year- SO FREAKING EXCITED!!!!

June 3rd, 1988 8:02 pm

This was nice. Me and Gareth never get nights like this anymore. With Corroded Coffin slowly starting to become a hit and spending most nights on the road, we never have us time. I don't even remember the last time me and Gareth went out somewhere nice together, alone. So this is nice to get away from the other guys for a bit.

We decided on going to the drive in, i favorite date night spot of ours. He had picked the movie, Killer Klowns from Outer space. It released almost a week ago and hasn't been getting the best rating, but me and Gareth will be the judge of that. I mean, its about clowns, it's gotta be scary. Which is right up me and Gareth's ally. It just started as the title card was ending.

"im jojo the ice cream clown, with the best ice cream in town! We give you the stick, you give it a lick, A tasty treat for while you screw!" the ice cream man said in the movie.

"Well that's mature"

8:08 pm

"where's the dang ticket booth?"

"oh fuck no" Gareth said, next to me chewing on some popcorn.

A shadow of what i assumed was a clown appeared from in the circus tent in the movie.

"did he just take his dog?"

"i think so Gare"

"Where's my dog? Where's my pooh bare? I'll tear this thing apart with my bare hands!" the old man said before placing his hands on the circus tent which ended up with him getting shocks through his body. Right afterwards a clown appeared on the scream, a colorful funny looking gun pointing towards the old man.

"Babe...i thought this was supposed to be a horror movie.." i said, this isn't very scary for it to be counted as a horror movie.

"we are only 9 minutes in, maybe as it goes on it will get scary, maybe it's just one of those slow burn horror movies"

8:17 pm

"No body stores cotton candy like this"

"What are you talking about, of course it is, look-"

The man pulls off a piece of cotton candy off just to be faced with a dead corpse.

"cotton candy cocoons with dead bodies in them....what in the actual fuck-" Gareth said with a giggle, he stopped laughing though when a clown with red hair and a purple and blue outfit on popped up on the screen.

"wait- Gareth, are you afraid of clowns?" i said, a big smile on my face.

"what? no-"

"oh my god, yes you are, how am i just now finding out about this? And you were the one to pick this movie"

"just shut up and keep watching"

8:27 pm

"why are these people opening the door so easily? if i saw that at my front door i would shut that door quicker than the speed of light" Gareth said before taking a big gulp of his drink.

It was a little dumb,if you saw a clown with pizza boxes, not knowing whats inside them, late at night, you would act all cool about? Fuck no.

But i will say the small little clown with the green hair is pretty adorable.

8:31 pm

The small little clown rides a little colorful looking bike, riding towards a group of hardcore bikers.

"mean bike you got there, can i take a ride pal?" the biker asked, the small clown answered no in whatever clown language he was speaking.

"can i beep the horn?" this time the clown answered yes, only for the asshole to take his small colorful bike and slam it on the ground, breaking the bike.

"that was just rude" i said

"what you feel bad for the clown?" Gareth asked

"actually yes i do, he is actually very adorable"

"what are you gonna do? knock my block off?" the biker asked, that is when the small clown, now wearing boxing gloves, punched him right in the face, his head falling right off his body.

"that's what you get prick" i said, Gareth slowly turned his head towards me

"you are unbelivable sometimes you know that?"

8:44 pm

"no way the shadow of his hands just ate those poor people" i said "that was a dumb death, right Gareth" i said, he did respond " gareth?"

i looked over to see him clutching onto himself, he looked....scared.

"holy shit, you can't be serious Gareth"

"listen i love horror but i hate clowns"

"then why did you choose to watch this?"it didn't make sense, if he didn't like clowns, why would he pick this to go and watch? He could have picked something else.

"it was a bet"

"what?" i said confused.

"i made a bet with the boys, if i lost i had to come and see this, of course i lost so here we are"

i didn't say anything, i just pulled him closer to me "it's okay Gare bear, i'll protect you from the scary little clowns"

8:54 pm

Okay this is a slightly creepy part, the clown using the dead officer as a puppet.

Gareth had closed his eye for that cause this part is definety really scary. The officers blood used as puppet makeup on his face.

Lets hope and pray Gareth gets a good nights rest instead of constantly waking up from nightmares about this movie.

"you know, we can always leave" i offered "we don't have to finish it"

he shook his head no "no i'm good, promise."

9:03 pm

"what are you gonna do with those pies boys?"

They threw those pies at him, that's what they did.

But it wasn't just any pies, they were acid pies. The poor guy melted from the acid. The cute little green haired clown placing a cherry on top.

9:17 pm

"why is there so many of them!" Gareth said, eye wide open, mouth slightly parted, the tow of us staring at the screen, an army of clowns showing up.

Suddenly all the clowns stopped and looked up

"what's happening..." Gareth said ,uneasy on what's unfolding on the screen.

A big fucking clown appeared that's what happened, a big boy.

yup. Tonight is gonna be a long night with Gareth, i'm prepared to not get much sleep tonight.

9:26 pm

Finally the movie had ended, the credits coming on, the theme song had a nice bop to it.

"i don't think you should set bets with the boys anymore" i said with a small giggle.

"yeah i hear ya, the theme song is a freaking hit though" he said, it indeed was.

It's time to take a ride on the nightmare merry-go-round

You'll be dead on arrival from the likes of the killer klowns

From outer space

Killer klowns

From outer space

[brytnoter]

~Raggy Dolls~

On the topic of analogue horror ... Here are two episodes of a real series that existed that absoutely terrified and scarred me as a kid. It was made in the mid 80′s but I watched it mid ‘90s.

I suppose it has a good message in theory. The adventures of dolls that were made wrong, but they have each other, and they are worthy of love ETC ETC

“The Big Top” episode

WARNINGS - Circus themed. THE OLD-FASHIONED KIND OF CIRCUS, WITH IMPLICATIONS OF ANIMALS BEING MISTREATED.

I had some hearing or processing problems as a kid, so I turned this up really loud so I could hear the mumbly narrator, but I still could not understand. My only clue as to the tone of the story was the calm chatting between a group of friends.

First noise approaching at (3:06) was a little unsettling. And then I was hit with some of the most bone shattering sensory nightmare noises I'd ever heard. (3:18) (3:29)

And when a character on screen is shown being afraid, then it made me double afraid. Things are scary all the time but if everyone else can hold it together, so can I. So when I see a character who can't control their fear, it affects me too.

A character saying "Ssh, he'll hear you" (4:11) ????? WTF

Was I sitting too close to the screen? I don't know. All I remember is I really thought the elephant was going to come out of the screen and stomp on ME.

Something about the clowns with the pies (5:58) The sound effect??? Or just the concept of clowns??? Even though I have never officially been afraid of clowns.

The voices for the seal I had only ever heard in the mocking of disabled people.

And when they are in the lion's cage, I had a bizarre kind of terror for what might happen to these nice girls, and what I was about to see. The sound/noise of her saying "Back, you brute" in such a sharp voice stayed with me for a long time.

“The Dark Wood” episode

WARNINGS - Poachers and traps. Injured animals. Cartoon silhouettes and reference to animals being hanged.

I assume I have watched this episode because I know exactly what happens and in which order. I just don't remember remember.

Sad Sack yelling at (3:36) and shouting help at (3:44) makes my skin crawl even now.

A character stuck in a bear trap on screen.

An ANIMAL stuck in a bear trap on screen.

"It was the cruel kind of trap that farmers aren't allowed to use any more." WHAT KIND OF SINISTER SHIT

The heavy breathing at (4:48)

Traps fucking everywhere.

(6:14) "Don't look now, but we're being watched" Takes the last of my horror feeling and then I am pacified into compliance.

And then out of the darkness come these injured fucking creatures, some of whom are rabbits looking like FUCKING WATERSHIP DOWN (which was another cartoon that fucking scarred me)

And I think the ending and the consequence for the poacher is supposed to be funny, but I was far too upset at that point to actually realise it.

[thecalmdaisy]

Social Anxiety was a Blessing and a Curse: The Childhood

Short Story

It's crazy how social anxiety can literally turn you into a whole different person. On the inside, you're full of energy, super social, and want to spread your true colors to others, but for some reason, you just can’t seem to let the inside of you come out. You feel this sense of fear that you can't seem to fully understand, a fear that can stem from many things in our lives, such as judgment, personal insecurities, stress, bullying, past traumas and many other things. In my own case, I was afraid of being judged by others for being so different from the societal norms of a normal Black girl. So, what did I do? Well, I stayed quiet and never let anyone in unless I knew they wanted to be my friend. No matter what, I was like as an individual. And let me tell you, not many made it into my small circle. But what can I say? I was the shy one.

The Beginning

After my last year of elementary school, my mom, my little sister, and I had just moved to a totally different state to start a new life. I was actually excited about it, but I knew how much it kinda sucked leaving behind the friends I had bonded with for years. But shockingly, the thought of making new friends at the time didn’t scare me much until the first day of middle school actually approached. As I walked through those huge double doors, I felt so much more awkward than I had anticipated. I guess seeing all those unfamiliar faces really overwhelmed me, and the thought of possibly being too weird for others was swirling around inside my head like crazy. This caused my lips to remain sealed, which equaled to social life being absolutely nonexistent. As time crept by, I started to think about my old friends frequently and returned home, dreading how I couldn't seem to fit in with others. But I knew my anxiety played a huge part in it. I must say that 6th grade year was truly a lonely one for me. I sat alone on the bus, at lunch, and in class, which made me unhappy because I knew I could be a great friend to someone. I even remember some nights before bed I would cry to GOD, asking,“ Why can't I be outgoing like everyone else?” I was so tired of being the quiet one who couldn’t seem to get out of her head at such a young age. As the 6th grade year slowly went by, my mom got me accepted into a performing arts middle school I had no clue about. But I was enthusiastic because I loved acting at the time and thought joining the drama program seemed like a great opportunity for me to break out of my shell.

Side note:

It didn't work at all. I would literally shake like crazy, my heart would beat through my chest, and I forgot my lines once the spotlight hit me.

Now, back to the story. There I was in the 7th grade, with no friends, at a new school, in a new year. As the school year progressed, I did manage to make a friend after two months. However, it was largely because she talked to me and broke me out of my shell a bit. She was a very talkative person, and I was a good listener. It was truly a match made in heaven. She became my only true friend that year, and I was totally happy with that. By the time 8th grade rolled around, more people were talking to me because they had seen me the year before, and they all started to realize how shy I was, especially the class clowns for some reason. But I absolutely didn’t mind that because I love to laugh. So hands down, that year stands as the best school year of my life. My friends at the time made me feel so welcomed, which helped break me out of my shell for the entire 8th grade year. As 9th grade approached, sadly me and my friends had to split apart to different high schools, which really sucked for me because as you know, I'm not a great conversationalist, and it was nice to have friends who appreciated my weirdness. But as I entered the new school year as a freshman, it felt like a reset button had pushed me back in time because there I sat all alone most of the time, chilling outside on the back steps before class started preparing to sit alone at lunch or skip lunch and head straight to the library. Not having friends again really sucked. Later that year, though, I became friends with one very special person who opened my eyes spiritually. She didn't have many friends either, and we both seemed to click. I started to sit at lunch with her, go to Bible study with her, and sit on the bus with her. She was literally my only friend that year, and I couldn't have asked for more.

As I approached my 10th grade year, things started to get better. People who saw me last year started to talk to me more, and we became associates. My friend from the year before graduated and left for college, so I never got to speak to her again, which really sucked, because I wish I could’ve told her thank you for reopening my eyes back to what was important in life. Once I made a few friends that sophomore year, I started getting comfortable at my school—until my mom got accepted into law school in another state, which was amazing. Until this day, I am still so happy for my mom, and I completely understand why we left. So, again, I packed up and said goodbye to my friends and moved into a new home. As my 11th grade year started, I was still shy, and I only spoke when someone wanted to talk, but only small talk. I could never really hold a conversation, so I kept them short and sweet, which kept me from getting to know new people. But honestly, I didn't mind it at that time. Many people my age were into things I just didn't agree with. Therefore, I felt like it was safer for me to be alone and focus more on my spirituality. And through the process of just doing me, I was able to make three friends in the last two years of high school, and I was completely okay with that because they were the kind of people I wanted in my life, very caring, helpful, motivational, and understanding of what the word friend truly meant. Once the end of my last year of high school came to a close, I threw my cap proudly for all to see, before I officially said goodbye to the mixed emotions of my childhood life in the public school system.

To be continued….

“Being a bit of a loner isn’t so bad when you live in the world we live in.”

Q/A:

What happened to your friends from middle school?

We never spoke again after middle school. I didn’t have a phone or social media until the end of my freshman year of high school, so it was hard to keep in contact.

What happened to your high school friends?

We went on different paths and changed as individuals.

Is there more to the story?

Absolutely! Anxiety has been a huge part of my life.

Written By: V

[servingupsurveys]

EMOJI SURVEY

When is your birthday? 🎂 September 12th

Have you ever dressed up as a unicorn? 🦄 Nope.

What is your favorite color? 🌈 Red.

Are you an alien? 👽 I feel like it sometimes but I’m just a judgmental Virgo who can’t understand how the human race operates.

Have you ever worn a clown wig? 🤡 I’ve never had a need to wear a clown wig.

Do you believe in the devil? 😈 I mean he ran the U.S presidential office until 2020.

What color was the last mask you wore? 😷 Black

Do you own a cowboy hat? 🤠 No.

Would you rather carve or paint a pumpkin? 🎃 Paint. I suck at carving. Actually now thinking about it, I suck at painting too. I’ll just make it into a pie. 

What is one thing you like to eat when you’re sick? 🤒 Goldfish crackers.

What are three of your favorite country songs? 🤠 It doesn’t matter. All of them are going to be Carrie Underwood.

Have you ever seen a spirit? 👻 No.

Have you ever drawn a picture of a skull? ☠️ No.

When was the last time you cried? 😭 March. Me and my boyfriend went to see Prom and I had a panic attack over sitting so high that I started crying and hyperventilating. 

Name three things that remind you of spring. Daisies, bunnies, light-weight jackets.

How many dogs have you had as pets? 🐶 Four: Bear, Sophie, Peanut, and Taz. 

Have you ever found a mouse in your house? 🐭 Once. My mom moved around a lot and had a tendency to pick places with mice infestations so it wasn’t the only time we had mice. However, I remember being terrified at a 7 years old when I saw a mouse in my cats mouth.

What is your favorite zoo animal? 🐒 Alligators, followed by the polar bear at our zoo who has an inflatable pickle.

How many times have you been stung by a bee in your life? Twice. The first time was pretty funny because six year old me thought the word allergic was the same as the word hate so I told all my friends I was allergic to bees. So they started freaking out when I got stung during a sleepover. 

Do you like ducks? 🦆 I mean, I don’t hate them. I don’t have an opinion honestly. 

Are you afraid of snakes? 🐍 Oh god yes. I hate seeing them at the Zoo. 

Are you afraid of spiders? Not to the extent of snakes but I still scream if I see one. 

Would you rather own a poodle or a chihuahua? 🐩 I’ve owned chihuahuas so I’d stick with what I know. There’s a resale store  that sells used designer clothes where I live that has poodle in the name and the owner acts like her store is a Saks. It has such a bad reputation because of how rude she is. 

Name three things you associate with doves. 🕊 Peace, love, white.

Do you own peacock feather earrings? 🦚 No. I remember when a lot of girls had feather earrings in 2011-2012. 

Name three things you might find on a farm. 🧑‍🌾 Picket fence, tractor, chickens.

Who is your favorite superhero? 🦸‍♀️ Spiderman. 

Name three things that fly. 🧚‍♀️ Butterflies, birds, fairies.

What countries have you visited? 🇨🇦🇦🇽🇧🇸 I haven’t visited anywhere outside of the U.S

What country do you live in? 🇦🇺🇪🇹🇱🇺 The United States.

Are you flexible? 🤸‍♀️ No. Partly why I didn’t last too long as a youth cheerleader.

Do you like ice skating? ⛸ I haven’t tried it. However, I tried roller-skating which if there’s any indication of that, I’d probably bust my ass if I did ice skating. 

What sports teams were you on in high school? 🎾🏀⚽️ None.

Can you throw a football? 🏈 No. I’m pretty good at shooting hoops though. 

What were three of your favorite things to do during recess when you were a kid? 🛝 Chase the boys, jump rope, and play pretend.

When was the last time you went roller skating/blading? 🛼 I was 13. I got embarrased cause I couldn’t skate so I ended up playing at the arcade.

Do you own a boomerang? 🪃 No.

Have you ever been skydiving? 🪂 No, one of my good friends sky-dived with his boyfriend once and it looked pretty fun. I have Kyphosis so I don’t think it would be safe.

Have you ever ridden a horse? 🏇 No. It’s just not something that has ever interested me. 

What time do you usually wake up in the morning? ⏰ Typically 7:30am on days I work, 9am-10am on days I don’t work.

What is your favorite amusement park ride? 🎢 Thunderhawk. It’s at Michigan Adventures 

What is your favorite ride at the fair? 🎡 Zero Gravity

Have you ever seen the Statue of Liberty in person? 🗽 Nope. 

Does your hometown have a fountain as one of its landmarks? ⛲️ No. 

What is your favorite fruit? 🍓🍇🍉🍌Bananas

Do you like to sing? 🎶 Well I’m a singer.. so

Did the home you grew up in have a doorbell? 🔔 I didn’t grow up in one home.. but yes some of the places we lived had a door bell.

Does your current home have a doorbell? 🔔 Kind of. It’s an apartment buzzer system.

Have you ever driven a race car? 🏁 While playing Mario Kart 

What was the last artsy thing you did? 🎨 Sing?

What is your favorite movie? 🎬 Mean Girls. 

What is your favorite play or musical that you’ve been in? 🎭 I’ve only been in two, and one of them the director snapped his fingers at me like I was a dog so Midsummers Jersey for the win. 

What is your favorite musical that you’ve seen live? 🎟 The Lion King. It was the first touring musical I’ve seen in person and it made me sentimental. 

Have you ever been to the circus? 🎪 Yeah when I was six or seven.

Name someone you know who plays the drums. 🥁Well for starters, I’m taking drum lessons but I know several people who play the drums because I’m a musician lol. 

Have you ever taken piano lessons? 🎹 Nope. 

Name someone you know who can play the saxophone. 🎷 No one.

Have you ever been in a band? 🎸 Yes. 

Have you ever bowled a strike? 🎳 On the WII

What is your current favorite video game? 🎮 Sims 3

What is the best fortune you’ve gotten from a fortune cookie? 🥠”You will be travelling to a new destination. A year later, I moved to a different state”

What was the last type of pie you ate? 🥧 Pumpkin

True or false: Lollipops look better than they taste. 🍭 To be honest, I don’t actively seek Lollipops so this may be accurate.

What are three baby names your friends have used that you like? 🍼 None of my current friends have kids. One of my ex best friends had a baby named Emberly right before our friendship ended. I didn’t really have much of an opinion on her name choice. I just thought that the friend was not going to handle parenting well.. Which they are currently begging for money for diaper money and saying it’s because they’re diabetic so uh yeah.. they really aren’t handling parenting well. 

Are you allergic to peanuts? 🥜 No, thankfully.

What is your favorite alcoholic beverage? 🍷 Mimosas, followed by Margaritas.

Do you know how to use chopsticks? 🥢 Yeah.

Are you superstitious? 🎱 In some ways, more than others.

Do you own a Magic 8 ball? 🎱 I used to as a kid. Man, if only my future turned out to be the same as a Magic 8 ball. 

What is your favorite winter sport? ⛷ I don’t like any sports, regardless of the season. <<<< Same.

Name someone you know who is a Scorpio. 🦂  My Uncle Moose.

List three things that have feathers. 🪶 Pillows in sleepover scenes in movies, birds, the shoreline of the Atlantic ocean

What color is your Christmas tree? 🎄 Rainbow.

What is your favorite type of tree? 🌴 Cherry blossoms.

Do you ever listen to CDs anymore? 💿 Sometimes. It’s very rare now that streaming services exist. 

Name someone you know who is a Libra. ⚖️ My mom.

Do you own a screwdriver? 🪛 IYes.

What are three things you’ve dressed up as for Halloween? 🔮 Strawberry Shortcake, A Hippie, and Hannah Montana.

Do you smoke? 🚬 No. 

What are three medications that you take every day? 💊 Melatonin, Melatonin, and Melatonin.

Have you had COVID? 🦠 Yes. My boyfriends brothers aren’t vaxxed and it’s been a constant struggle of his family. Now with me getting a new job in a clinic that specializes in people who have immune disorders, I really doubt I’m going to see his family that often because they’re not taking it seriously (and I’m kinda excited for it because his family just sits around and plays on their phones)

Do you prefer showers or baths? 🛁 Showers.

What do you prefer fruity scented soap or flowery scented soap? 🧴Fruity. I’ve always loved citrus smelling things

What was the last clothing store you shopped at? 🛍 Box Lunch, but I techinically bought a Squishmallow so.

What color are the chairs in your kitchen? 🪑 Wooden chairs.

Name someone you know who can play the violin. 🎻 I had a theatre acquaintance named Amber who played the Violin in Orchestra. The only reason I know is cause she referred to herself as Lindsay Stirling and I just thought it was really cocky. 

Have you ever ridden in an ambulance? 🚑 Yeah when I was suicidal. 

Where was the last place you flew on a plane? ✈️  I was two years old and I don’t remember it. My mom said it was to Chicago though. 

Would you rather kayak or ride in a sailboat? 🛶⛵️ A sailboat

Have you ever been on a cruise? ⛴ No. I’d love to go one but a lot of people become missing on those. 

Cupcakes or donuts? 🧁🍩 Cupcakes

Favorite carnival food? 🍦🍿🍭 Snow-cones

What was the last type of tea you drank? ☕️ Sweet.

Have you ever gone sledding in the snow? 🛷 I have.

Have you ever tried archery? 🏹 Yes. Michigan took it pretty seriously when I lived there, I swear every camp I went to had Archery.

Do you meditate? 🧘‍♀️ Sometimes. Mostly when my anxiety is getting to me. 

Are you a good swimmer? 🏊‍♀️ No. I never got swimming lessons so I have no idea how to swim. 

Have you ever ridden in a taxi? 🚖 Yeah, mostly when I lived in Michigan. My mom sucked at keeping cars so we’d often use public transportation. I think it’s why I heavily rely on it now as an adult because I’m so used to it, plus it saves the environment. 

Do you own a scooter? 🛴 No, but I did when I was a kid.

Name three things that taste good with pineapple. 🍍 Orange, apple, mango. 

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

schoolyard warden

shuji, the class troublemaker, strikes up an unlikely friendship with the girl tasked with keeping him in line

ye its related to some of the others, no warnings, just some kids becoming friends 600 words

Even you had to admit it. You and Hanma Shuji made for an outwardly bizarre pair of best friends. Hanma was always the troublemaker, the fighter, the instigator. He was known for making his own fun when he was bored, and by god was he bored a lot. And then there was you. His childhood principal office escort, perpetually reliable, trustworthy, quiet. You were similarly unapproachable, but because of a mistaken perception that you were stuffy and serious. 

Hanma’s hijinks started as childish pranks in class that annoyed teachers and students alike, though they didn’t annoy you. School was easy and monotonous, and the class clown was secretly a welcome distraction. You were silently thankful for getting out of class to shepherd the tall boy through the halls to make sure he actually went to the nurse, or principal office. On one such trip you told him as much. You went so far as to cheekily request for him to concentrate his nonsense in language class as it was typically the easiest and by extension, most dreadful. Shuji recognized a sparkle of mischief in your eye that day that he never expected from the teacher ‘s prized student.

Things were like that for a long time, with Shuji throwing erasers at the other boys, or playing “stop hitting yourself” with one of the more obnoxious kids he wanted to take down a notch, followed by you dragging him by the ear for a stern talking to. It was the usual catch and release routine for months, until one day, Hanma’s schoolyard transgressions brought together a band of his victims to jump the tall boy on his way home.

You heard the scuffle and dull thuds around the corner and some cheering. What a pain in the ass, you thought as you turned the corner to see Hanma slowly getting overtaken in a fist fight by five of the smaller guys from your class. “Oi! How fuckin’ many of you is it gonna take to beat one kid up?” You nearly shouted, showing a rare facet of your personality regularly kept on tight lock at school. The kids froze- half in shock at being caught and half at hearing you speak so informally. It was a stark contrast from the quiet, proper side you put on display for school. “Get out of my way before I rat your asses out.” You threaten and the kids start to scatter, afraid of your status with teachers.

One looked over his shoulder and shouted a weak threat, “I’ll tell the teacher you cussed us out!”

“Go ahead, no one’ll believe you.” You bit back a laugh and looked over to Hanma.

“For the record, I didn’t need help there.” He said defensively, sitting back on his butt, wiping his bloodied knuckles in his shirt.

“Who said I did it to help you?”

A boyish chuckle tumbled easily from the boy, “Touché.”

“But take care of those properly, Hanma. You know you can’t get suspended again this year,” You remind him, approaching and pulling out a first aid kit to patch him up. To your surprise, he doesn’t pull away when you grab his big hand and wipe his knuckles with alcohol. You made quick work of it and stood, holding out a hand to help the taller boy up.

You’ll remember it clear as day as long as you live. He looked up at you with a childish smirk, grabbed you hand to pull himself up, and said, “You’re alright, warden, call me Shuji.”

Your eyes rolled, “Yeah fine. You better know my name by now, so try that next time.”

“I’ll consider.”

I literally only wanted to post something to hit the next round number of notes so here's the little drabble that kicked off the last two shuji things I did posted. the tags are being fucky maybe il add that later. i only want/need like 5 notes and this aint really shit anyway lol.

Masterlist

[ceruleanchillin]

5 Day Stay

| Or, Angel down bad for a week |

Angel x F!Reader

Warnings: language, infidelity, Angst (?), lil bit chili spice at the end

Mon:

Angel felt he was too young to consistently feel so bone-tired, yet that’s how his day had been ending for weeks now. Sometimes it was all he could do to get off his bike and make it to the door, only to have to rest his head against it to prepare to make it to the couch and collapse.

Tonight was one of those nights, and he wanted to be dead to the world until it dragged him back into it.

It was the smell of mixed spices that hit him first. It felt like he was in suspended animation, and slowly being released as different things started to register to him.

His TV was on, someone was rummaging through his kitchen, and music played faintly from his desk. Thinking back to the last time an unwanted guest was in his kitchen, he placed a hand on the holstered knife fastened to his back.

The fridge door closed, and you appeared in the window, eyes focused intently on whatever you were cooking on the stove.

He exhaled, feeling like complete shit. It only spoke to how weary his mind was that he could forget you were staying with him for the next week. Especially after the conversation that led to it.

“I don’t know Angel…really I can afford a motel for a few days.”

“Here? Rusted-through pipes will be the last thing your landlord is worried about when you bring back bedbugs and shit.”

Your eyes had widened at that, but still you brought up the thing that had been chained to your hesitation. “I mean….do you think it’s ok to do this? After we…Nails..Ang-“

He remembered a flash of irritation, more so at himself than you, when you said that. “Yes querida, fuck. If you’re so scared, I most likely won’t even be there the way things are going. Nails is out of town til’ next weekend…”

“Relax Ignacio.” you had cut your eyes at him, and he’d felt his dick jump like it did whenever you gave him attitude. “I’m just not trying to be a problem.”

Your voice calling his name brought him to the present. He caught the last part of your statement, that you didn’t know he’d be back.

“Yeah, we got in earlier than expected.”

“While you’re standing there like a weirdo, let me shame you real quick. How does a man in his thirties still have the kitchen of a frat boy?” You leaned on the sill of the divider. “You’re lucky I already knew you were sad in the kitchen. I had to bring my own tagine.”

He stepped into the kitchen, his stomach coming alive with interest. “One, I don’t know what that is, two, I can’t help it if the kitchen isn’t my preferred room of work.”

He peeked over your shoulder, but the unique pot kept him from seeing what you were making.

“Neither is the bedroom, unless that work is piling up dirty laundry.” you stuck your tongue out at him and turned back to your simmering dish.

“Ha ha. Dinner and a show, she does it all folks!” he collapsed at the table, the day catching back up with him. “Should put your ass on the club’s payroll. End the cashflow problem real quick.”

You turned to him, concern etched on your face. “I heard from Hank about that…sorry. I know now isn’t a great time for that at all.”

Things got awkward like they always did when you referenced the recent changes of his life. He wasn’t sad about getting another chance at fatherhood, this one more tangible than the last. However, he wasn’t entirely sold on everything he’d accepted along with it, and he was pretty sure you at least suspected that. It threw the previously comfortable confusion that was your relationship off track when it was touched on.

“No, it’s not.” was all he could manage.

It was quiet for a beat, the simmering of the food and quiet Neo Soul the only sounds.

“Well,” you started, turning off the burner. “At least you don’t have to eat like a ‘we got food at the house’ meme for once.”

He laughed, a genuine and needed laugh. “Ok, you know what? Keep talking about my pantry stocking skills, and I might take it personally.”

The rest of his night went that way. Anytime you and Angel got together, things were just…easy…better. You spent the evening eating in front of the TV (Angel getting all the way to thirds for what turned out to be olive chicken and roasted potatoes), trading jokes, and going over the finer points of Golden Girls. Angel learned you took it very seriously, and mocked you for being “old”.

It wasn’t until you were nodding off, and he was left with his own thoughts, that he realized he hadn’t enjoyed coming home this much since he moved in.

Tues:

Angel had dreamed he’d been back in his childhood home, but as a grown man. There was music coming from his parent’s room, and when he got to the doorway, his mom was at her dressing table. She hummed along to the soulful seventies music and smiled at him from the mirror. She said something, but he couldn’t make it out, and woke up in the frustration.

He jerked up from his position on his stomach, and slowly came to. With a grunt he wiped his hand down his face, glancing at his phone to find it was six in the afternoon.

It then occurred to him the music wasn’t just in his dream, it was coming from his bathroom. He got off the couch and followed the sound.

“Hey coma head.” you grinned at him from where you were doing your makeup.

He shook his head, trying to let go of the last vestiges of the dream, and how eerie the scene before him was.

He focused instead on the nightmare of products and alien looking tools surrounding you.

He kind of liked the mess, even if he couldn’t see the counter anymore.

“Hey hurricane Ulta.”

You made a face that was a cross between being amused and suspicious. “You sleep in your jeans and buy your shirts in pack form. Don’t act like you know what that is.”

He made a face of mock offense. “That’s so classist.”

This time you paused completely in you what you were doing and twisted your body to meet him. “Uh oh…let me find out you’re actually learning something from EZ.”

“Angel Reyes can know something about something, damn.”

You laughed, lowering your hands from where you’d been lining your eyes to avoid a mistake. “I’m only teasing you Angel Reyes.”

“Looks like you plan on teasing more than me. Some clown is gonna get his hopes and tiny dick up for nothing.”

“There’s this new club in the city that Belinda’s getting us into. It’s bad luck to buy your own drinks on the first night at a new place.” you adjusted the bodycon mini-dress for emphasis. “You doing anything?”

“Club shit.” he started picking through the products, sniffing them every so often. “Then I think I’ve got a call with Nails at some point.”

“You think?” you popped his hands when he got too close to the good stuff, or the things you were using currently.

“Yeah..I think.” he shrugged, only realizing how short he sounded when you winced.

He didn’t know why he got so annoyed when she was brought up around you. He wasn’t like that with anyone else, and he knew you were only trying to support his incoming changes.

“Ok..”

Awkward silence settled in before he found the words to break it.

“Why do you wanna know? You want me to be that clown?”

“Never.” you pinched his cheek, tone pure saccharine jest.

He muttered in Spanish, stepping around you to the toilet.

“Angel!” you exclaimed.

“What?! It’s my bathroom, I have to piss.”

“You better never make me angry Reyes, I could end your whole Casanova game with ease."

Wed:

“You holding on a little tight there mami!” Angel called over his shoulder with a laugh. ���You said go fast."

“Shut up!” you giggled, but he wasn’t lying.

You’d asked Angel to take you to work on his bike since even though you spent so much time with bikers, you hardly got to ride one. You were going to the same place anyways. He had been all too happy to shake up his commute, but your speed challenge took it over the top.

He didn’t know how you were up so early, he personally felt like the bags under his eyes were like a PEZ dispenser. You’d gotten in at two am, and still got up with him at eight.

He loved watching you in the morning, you managed to be cheerful without being obnoxious, and it worked better than coffee for him.

He loved how much he was learning about you.

As he pulled onto the street beside the cafe you’d asked him to stop at, he felt your arms uncoil from around him. He may have pretended to shift just to make you pause and hold him a few seconds longer, but he wasn’t going to acknowledge that.

“I didn’t scream, and I’m not shaking, so you still have to buy my breakfast.” You unclipped your helmet, grinning the whole time.

You looked so pretty to him, with the sun hitting your eyes and hair just right. He could catch you at just the right moment, and you’d look so gorgeous, he struggled to believe you were real.

He cleared his throat, afraid his voice would crack if he didn’t. “Fair enough, come break my pockets then.”

You laughed, squeezing his chin and pointing out his pout. “You don’t even have to tell me once sir, I know my worth.”

Once inside, he trailed after you to the counter, using your head like an arm rest when you reached it. “That’s good.”

“Boy!” You swatted his hand away, and it was his turn to laugh at your adorable pout.

“New bet,” he stepped around you while the customer ahead of you wrapped up. “If I get your entire order just right, you buy lunch.”

“Deal.” you leaned on the counter, eyebrow raised at him in challenge.

Angel knew the best part of his day would be watching your expression go from smug to shocked out of the corner of his eye. He nailed every pastry, the iced coffee, and their preparation with ease.

The simultaneously impressed and amused barista looked to you for confirmation. She got a shocked nod in response.

“I know my worth too mama, so don’t skimp on lunch.”

“Fair enough.” You shook off your shock as you repeated his earlier words and shrugged. “Can’t complain I guess. I trained my work husband too well.”

He scoffed loudly, and the two of you went back to swapping smart ass barbs while he tried to ignore the lingering dip his stomach did when referred to him as “husband”.

Thurs:

Angel was a grown man, with years of grown man experience, yet he was sitting on the edge of his bed feeling like a teenager again.

The end of your stay was nearing, and every time he thought about you going back home, he felt weird. He was pretty sure that’s why he’d been a little snappy and annoyed easily at the club the past couple days. He just wasn’t ready to delve into that too much.

Regardless, he had to admit you had some growing effect over him. All morning, while he should’ve been resting and preparing for a charter visit, he was fighting off hard-ons thanks to you.

“Can I borrow your kitchen for the day Angel?” He mimicked your voice in a nasally mocking tone. “I’ll save you some when I’m done baking.”

He’d thought nothing of it when you asked the night before. Really didn’t even feel like you had to at that point.

He realized why when he saw that the desserts you were making for your friend’s brunch were elaborate as hell. The effort took all your attention, and unfortunately for him, his too.

You were baking a lot more than dessert and didn’t even know it.

Now he was hiding in his room, fighting off arousal he knew wasn’t appropriate. You weren’t his and he wasn’t yours.

That didn’t change the fact that you in a short silk lounge set, singing in French (how the hell did you know French?), doing domestic things in his home, did it for him.

He ran a hand over his hair, still damp from his cold shower, and forced himself to finish getting dressed. He had to be ready to face a room of dangerous bikers and prove his patched in worth. He couldn’t be thinking of weird little fantasies and parallels to his parent’s marriage.

He must’ve zoned out again, because you startled him enough to almost make him hit his wardrobe.

“Oh my god Angel try this! I think I did magic.” You excitedly thrust a red cookie his way.

Angel took the offered treat, and found it was a red velvet cookie. “It’s fucking good mi dulce.”

“Really?” You looked so hopeful, so beautiful, that he would’ve lied if the situation called for it.

“Yes, but you know you kill it in the kitchen.” He turned away to put on the flannel he’d fished out.

Now you were in his personal space, smelling amazing, and all his senses were under attack. He couldn’t trust Angel jr. at the moment.

“Baking is different. It’s a whole thing for me...I go all in.”

“I noticed your little Broadway production in my kitchen.” He kneeled down, pretending to look for his shoes as something to do while you were there.

“Don’t shame me.” You pressed your foot into his back, gently pushing him. “It makes for better results.”

‘shit.’ He cursed mentally at the contact.

Luckily, he heard you turn to leave the room. “Oh, EZ said to tell you to hurry up or pick up your phone.”

He rose up once you were gone and checked his phone. Sure enough, he had several missed calls and texts from Gilly, Coco, and EZ. He cursed aloud this time and finished getting ready, determined not to get distracted again.

Of course, his boys having to physically come in and get him when he did just that destroyed that promise.

Fri:

It had come down to the last night of your stay with him, and what he thought was a favor to a good friend, turned out to be more for his benefit.

The hell with the club seemed so far away when he was home now, and he’d laughed more times that week than he had the previous few months total.

Tonight though… Tonight had him so in his head he didn’t know if he was coming or going.

You, sensing something was going on with him, had invited EZ and Felipe to dinner. He didn’t know how you got the latter to agree, his dad had never even been in his home before, but you did it. It went over a hell of a lot better than the last time they tried it too.

The missteps that reared their head when his family tried to talk to each other at length were mitigated by you. You were the perfect buffer, able to get them to engage with you and then each other.

He saw his family in an unfamiliar, but favorable light. His father was actually enjoying his time with him in his house. He knew that night wouldn’t have happened if not for you.

Now, as he distractedly dried the dishes you’d washed, listening to you hit all of the high notes in Loving You, it hit him.

‘She should be my wife’ the thought came so quick, and was so loud he almost jumped, confused if it came from him or someone else.

“Hey dishwasher-less!” you nudged him with your hip. “Move those hands.”

“Why can’t we be a thing?” he blurted.

You dropped the silverware you’d been washing, eyes wide and focused on him. “Um..excuse m-…what?”

He knew that wasn’t the most tactful way to introduce his thoughts to you, but it was his way. Fuck…he didn’t even understand them fully himself.

“You heard me querida,” he put the dish down on the counter, turning to you. “When I stayed with you that weekend that my head was all fucked up-“

“Angel.” your tone made it a warning, but he kept going. He was never afraid of a challenge.

“I was inside you so much that weekend I forgot that’s not how I came in this world. I can’t believe I’m saying it out loud, but I felt home cause I was with you-”

“Stop it!” you hit the sink, rattling the contents.

“Fuck that!” he shouted back, startling you both. He stayed silent for a moment before speaking in a calmer tone. “Fuck that. Why can’t we talk about it? Why couldn’t we talk about it then?”

You didn’t say anything, but he saw your chest heaving with adrenaline, and realized you were just as affected by the conversation as he was.

“You just decided it didn’t matter and put it in this space we can’t touch now. It’s all fucked up!”

“Because,” you hissed. “If you remember, it was all over that Adelita chick, and I don’t know what kind of hold she has or had over you, but it was deep.”

He cringed at that, and turned his attention to the light fixture over your head, unable to meet your heated gaze.

“Whatever feelings I have for you Angel, I put them away in a place where I can still be your friend and keep things in perspective.”

“Feelings you have for me?” he latched on to the lack of past tense, hopeful.

You inhaled sharply. “You are having a baby and just got engaged. What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing..I mean a lot, but nothing to do with this. I know-“

“I know,” you pushed away from the sink and reached up to cup his cheeks. “That you’re scared Angel. You’re scared, because you’re gonna take two steps you’ve never taken before at once, and you’re trying to sabotage it.”

He shook his head, taking your hands from his face and holding them tightly in his own. “No..mi dulce, no. I’ve been struggling with this all week, longer if I’m being honest. Tonight sealed it.”

You snorted humorlessly, looking around the kitchen as if something in the room would help you get through to him. “I cook you some big boy meals, and treat your speakers to some musical taste, and you’re ready for vows?”

“Don’t put this all on me. Tell me you don’t feel it. Right here and now, to my face.”

He watched your expression soften, and let you put one hand back on his face, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. “Ok, I can’t do that, but I also can’t just fall into a situation with you either.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “We both know we didn’t just fall into anything. We sat here and let it build and didn’t say shit, and now I have to. This week just made it too real not to.”

He placed his forehead to yours, his own hands cupping your face. “Please…”

He watched you have an internal battle by your changing features before you finally leaned into him. The moment you did, his lips were on yours.

He knew it was more than just a kiss a few seconds in. Everything he’d felt that the previous week was alive and confirmed between you too. He could feel you telling him you had moments like his own.

He palmed your thighs under your sundress before grasping them tightly and lifting you up. He placed you on the counter while you two separated for air. Your chests heaved in unison, and neither of you had to say you wanted the other touching you again before it happened.

He gripped your hair, tilting your head back for access to your neck. The smell of vanilla and cocoa butter surrounded him as he worked his mark all over your skin.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you pressed yourself against his jeans.

He hated he couldn’t feel the heat he knew was emitting from your core through the thick material of his jeans, and slid his other hand up your thigh to your panties.

Your entire body twitched when he ran his fingers over you through the thin cloth. It wasn’t just hot it was soaked.

“You need me that bad mami?” he pulled away from your neck, satisfied with his work, and beginning to work at his jeans.

“And quick.” you breathed into his ear, your tone and the sensation making him shudder.

The ache against his jeans didn’t need to be told twice to find its way into your heat. He slid your panties to side and pressed his thumb against you. You jumped, whimpering your need again, and he pulled your panties way from you.

You’d gotten them around one ankle before he was inside of you, and they were no longer your focus.

You clung to each other so tightly there’d be evidence on both of you.

In the quiet, he wondered if your mind was racing with the same thoughts that his was. What now? How do we get this again?

He pressed kisses to your cheek just as he started to move. You inhaled, your nails sliding down his back. Not quite catching the skin, but enough to set him on fire all the same.

He mapped out a rhythm by your whimpers and how you grasped at him until he crafted the right one.

This was the conversation he’d needed. Every thrust from him, every cry from you, every bit of give and take to heighten the other’s pleasure. The two of you were admitting that everything that was between you was deeper, realer than you’d wanted to admit. He loved you, and you loved him, and you were engraving that on one another.

The flirtation, the way you could be yourselves around each other, the heatless jabs. Good friends was always a ruse.

Your face was buried in his neck, and when he felt dampness he knew came from your tears, he hiked your legs higher, moving deeper.

You cried out so loudly it echoed in the kitchen, drowning out the soft crooning of an eighties songstress.

“I know baby, I feel it too.” his voice was choked by the threat of tears of his own.

He’d never been here before. Not with Adelita, not even close with Nails. He was terrified. Terrified for it to end because he never felt so good. Terrified for it to end because it might never happen again.

“Angel..” your voice sounded so small, but it was strong enough to anchor him back with you. “I’m close, I’m so close.”

“Let go,” he encouraged. “Let me have it querida.”

Your body seized up with your release, his name the only thing he caught in your unintelligible babble.

You clenched up repeatedly in the aftershocks, and that drug him over the edge with you, biting your shoulder.

His vision tunneled, pinpricks of pleasure traveling up and down his spine. Your hands smoothed up and down the area, and he realized it was because he was shuddering.

He gripped the counter for support, pulling back slowly. He was searching for a way to ask if he’d changed your mind, but the act hadn’t made words for his thoughts any easier to find.

It didn’t matter, before he could even speak you stopped him. Your eyes were glazed over with tears that had nothing to do with pleasure this time.

“That was all that I can give you Angel. It’s not right, none of this is, but it’s all I can give you.”

AN:

Am I the only one who wishes she had reference photos for their home/club layouts? Lol, it’s such a weird non-factor thing, but still. From memory, I’m pretty sure Angel only has one bedroom though.

No shade, no hate but this was partially inspired by how over Nails Angel looked when she was putting her back into it….🥴

I played with a few canon-timeline things + knocked the dust off my smut writing ability (I’m going under my humiliation rock now, no calls plz)

[lexa-kom-skaikru]

I need to rant about Supercorp

Plot twist of 2021: I am back to being a clown for Supercorp... yay?

I thought I was over this. I thought I knew better. I thought I had grown as a person and was superior to the tricks of queerbaiting. Yet, here I am. In the year of 2021, questioning everything and wondering if they will pull a Korrasami on us with Supercorp.

Here’s the thing, rationally I don’t believe it. They wouldn’t do it. They’re cowards. They would not make them endgame. I know this. But fuck it if I am not having doubts and feeding my hopeful optimistic side with what we’ve been getting lately and wondering if maybe, just maybe, Supercorp is endgame.

I just honestly don’t understand what’s happening. It’s like there’s been a shift in the writing but I can’t exactly pinpoint what it is? We have been getting so many Supercorp scenes in the past few episodes and it’s like the writers are no longer afraid of having them share screen time. I don’t remember ever being fed this well. Even in the prime time of Supercorp back in season 2 and 3, it’s like the entire episode could be about Supercorp and their relationship but their shared screen time had to be limited. But now it’s like they are just not afraid to have Melissa and Katie share more than 2 or 3 scenes an episode together.

Not just the quantity of scenes but the content too. They have been consistently showing us that Kara and Lena just want to spend time with each other as much as possible. There is not even an attempt at hiding it. In fact, they make sure to showcase it. They tell us that Kara and Lena were keeping in touch while Lena was away, they show us Lena and Kara working together, they show us Lena and Kara ending the day together.

Actually, if we’re being honest, it’s almost kind of like Lena has taken Alex’s role a little bit - by this I mean that Alex was usually Kara’s person, the one that would ground her and put things in perspective for her, the one she would want to be with when the end of the day comes and she just wants to relax and be Kara with. And this is supported by the final scenes of each episode. Kara and Alex couch scenes seem to have been kind of replaced by Lena and Kara scenes.

(Btw, this is not me saying that Alex’s role in Kara’s life is no longer existent, at all. It’s just me saying that the relationship has shifted, they were each others main source of comfort when they had no one else but now Alex has Kelly and Kara has Lena, so the main source of comfort has shifted which is a normal thing to happen when you start dating someone. The sibling relationship is just as strong, it just takes a different form)

This together with Kara saying she doesn’t want to be alone anymore, is leading me to clown really hard because of how the writers have been framing Supercorp’s scenes and relationship lately. It’s like they want to establish that Lena is Kara’s rock, Kara’s humanity (literally this last episode Lena was the one to remind Kara of her humanity), the one to ground her and her source of comfort at the end of the day.

Am I clowning? Yes. But doesn’t take away from the fact that what I said is all true.

Edit: Also, let’s talk about how they started to unabashedly framing Supercorp as full on love interests to each other. The writing is no longer making that subtext. They are openly portraying them as love interests and I am freaking!

[extasiswings]

Get in, clowns.  We’re going to the circus.  On ao3.

Eddie’s palms are sweaty.

It’s warm outside, the sun beating down on the park bench where he’s sitting, but it’s the nerves that have his hands clammy as he turns his water bottle over between them.  

When Buck had walked in the house earlier, he’d taken one look at Eddie and rolled his eyes before shoving him back into his bedroom.

“You can’t wear that,” Buck said, rifling through Eddie’s dresser.  He emerged with Eddie’s tightest pair of jeans and shoved them at his chest before turning to the drawers with shirts.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Eddie asked, baffled as he looked down at himself and then, skeptically, at the jeans.

“You look like a dad.”  Buck’s voice went muffled for a moment before he made a noise of victory and pulled out a deep red, long-sleeved shirt that Eddie’s pretty sure is at least a size too small. 

“Kind of hard not to.  Since I am one and all.  That’s not exactly a secret.”

“Yeah, but you can look like a hot dad who is making an effort instead of a regular dad going to the grocery store or something.  You’ll thank me later.”  

After Eddie had changed and walked out of the bathroom, Buck’s face shifted—Eddie could have sworn his eyes darkened, that his voice was rougher as he pronounced Eddie much better.

So Eddie knows he looks good.

But his palms are still sweaty.  He uncaps the water bottle and takes a sip more to have something to do than because he needs it.  And then he starts drumming his fingers against his thigh, needing something to occupy them, some way to move.  

He’s tempted to pull out his phone, to reread the latest texts from Bobby or even the shameless teasing in the group text that Buck started with his sisters—and boy, was that a mistake, putting the three of them in touch, because Eddie never in a million years would have told them he was going on a date if he hadn’t done it by accident because Buck’s direct messages happened to be right below the group—

He’s still not sure he should be, is the thing.  Dating.  He still feels like he can’t quite breathe right when he thinks too hard about it.  Can still play that last dinner with Shannon over on loop, from her asking for a divorce to the implication that really being with him again would be so terrible she would have to run for the hills and leave their child behind.

He didn’t exactly have great self-esteem to begin with.

Eddie wipes his palms on his jeans—he’s in the middle of debating whether it’s bad parenting to make up an emergency involving your kid to get out of a date, when—

“Eddie!  Hi,” Ana greets, walking up the path.  

The anxiety in his chest twists tighter as he gets up from the bench and waves.

“Hey.  You, uh—you look really nice,” he says, because it’s true and also the easiest thing he can remember from the last time he did this.  

Ana smiles.  “So do you.”

There’s a pause that lingers a little too long and then they both start trying to speak at once, cutting off abruptly when they realize.  Eddie rubs self-consciously at the back of his neck.

“Should we walk?” Ana offers, nodding down the path where it leads into the trees.

“Sure, yeah,” Eddie agrees.  

It’s actually not...bad.  She asks him about work and that’s a safe enough topic that he’s comfortable spending a few minutes telling her stories from the station.  She shares a little about the challenges of virtual teaching.  And then she asks about Chris, and, well, that’s an easy subject—Eddie could talk about Chris all day.  

He just finishes the story about the actual building of Christopher’s skateboard—which involved no small amount of comical trial and error on the part of two decidedly not Chris-sized grown men—when Ana gets a thoughtful look on her face and glances sideways at him.

“Can I ask you something personal?”  She asks.

Eddie rocks back on his heels and hooks his thumbs in his pockets.  “Sure.”

“How long has it been for you?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up.  “Since...the last time I dated?”

Ana nods.

“Well…” He wets his lips to stall.  “The last person I dated was my wife.  And I’m not sure it was really dating in the same way after we were married so...I guess...eleven years give or take?”

He laughs and he can hear the edge of self-deprecation.  “That obvious I’m out of practice?”

“No,” Ana says.  “No, that wasn’t—it’s really not actually. Although it does explain some things.”

“Things?”

She bites her lip.  “Nothing bad,” she insists.  “Just—”

“Have you ever been on a date where the other person talked about their ex the whole time and it was kind of obvious they still had feelings for them and you couldn’t help wondering why they weren’t with the ex when they clearly wanted to be?”  She asks.

Eddie blinks, scrolling back through their conversation trying to think—he’s pretty sure he hasn’t mentioned Shannon except for the once.  And he’s not still—

“In high school, maybe?” He answers.  “But I’m not sure—”

“I was trying to figure out if you and Buck ever dated,” she clarifies, and Eddie stops in his tracks, his mind shorting out as he takes that in.

“I—what?”

They’re back at the parking lot anyway, and although they could take another loop around the park, Ana stops by the closest bench and smiles as she leans against it.

“Look, I like you, Eddie,” she says.  “And if I’m totally off base and you want to see me again, I will definitely pick up the phone.  But if I’m not?  I couldn’t not say something.”

“Buck’s my best friend,” Eddie replies.  His head is swimming but it surprisingly doesn’t feel bad.  More like he’s been handed the clue card for a puzzle he was trying to solve and while the pieces haven’t quite come together fully, they’re getting there.

“You talk about him like he’s your partner.  Like the three of you are a family.  And when you talk about him you look like…”  Ana shakes her head and laughs, but it’s not unkind.  Just soft and maybe a little longing.  “I would love for someone to look like that when they’re talking about me.  Thinking about me.  So, I thought you should know.  Just in case you didn’t.”

Another puzzle piece falls into place and Eddie sucks in a breath.

“I do like you,” he says.

“Yeah...but you’re in love with him.  Right?”  Eddie’s quiet and Ana nods.

“I’m gonna go,” she decides.  “This was nice, for the record.  Maybe we can do it again.  As friends next time.”

“Ana—” Eddie calls after her.  When she looks back over her shoulder though, he’s not sure what to say except, “...thank you.”

“Let me know how it works out?” She asks.  “I’m a little invested now.”

Eddie laughs and runs a hand through his hair.  “Yeah...sure.”  

He drives home in a daze, so much of the past two years—maybe even longer—suddenly thrown into new light.  Everything he’s been afraid of, everything that’s been holding him back—all of the baggage and insecurities that Shannon left behind, that have made him feel like he’s not good enough, like he can’t be a partner to anyone—

He never stopped and looked too hard at what he already had.  What he was already doing.

What he has.  What he is doing.   

With Buck.

In the stark glare of hindsight, it’s easy to see—he was still married when they met, was worn down and bruised and not looking for anything.  He needed a friend and Buck slipped in to fill that void and Eddie...put him in a box.  Put them in a box.  Carefully compartmentalizing every aspect of his life because it was easier that way, because it allowed him to sort through the tangled knots of expectation from any number of other sides, any number of other identities—husband, father, son.

There was no baggage attached to friend.  No forgive and forget and take your wife back because kids need their mothers or you’ll drag him down with you or I wasn’t enough.

There was just...Buck.  Present.  Supportive.  Caring about him.  Believing in him.   The real him—masks off, walls down, warts and all.   

The longer Eddie thinks, the clearer things become.  His mind flips through memories like a scrapbook—panic attacks and phone calls at two in the morning, nights on the couch playing video games with Christopher and the slower, lingering moments with just the two of them after they put him to bed, all those months sharing a bed in Buck’s apartment while he despaired over being away from his son and Buck reminded him he was a good dad—

How many of those nights had Eddie wanted to kiss him?  How many times had he felt that buzz under his skin, the whisper of it would be so easy, only to shove it down because it was too dangerous to deal with.  

And when he thinks now about the future, about having someone in his home, in his bed, in his life, when he pictures it, all he can see is Buck.

It feels right.

“I love him,” Eddie says out loud, tasting the words on his tongue, letting them linger.

I love him.

His pulse spikes with his anxiety, but it calms down as he sits with it.  Because he knows Buck’s not going to leave.  He trusts that.  Buck’s seen him at his worst and none of that has ever driven him away.  So maybe…

Eddie’s mind flicks back to earlier in the day, to the dark heat in Buck’s gaze as it dragged over him before he looked away.

...yeah.  They’ll be okay.

He’s home before he even really registers and takes a few slow breaths before he shuts off the truck and gets out.  When he steps through the door, it’s a strange feeling.  The space is familiar but not.  More...settled somehow.  Home.

Home.

Eddie closes the door behind him and follows the sound of running water to the kitchen.  He stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and spends a moment just watching Buck scrub potatoes in the sink until the other man glances up and notices him.

“Hey,” Buck greets.  “Chris is reading in his room, I’m just working on dinner.  How was the date?”

God, I love you, Eddie thinks, and nearly has to bite his tongue to keep it to himself.

Yeah.  It’s right.

He shrugs.  “It was fine.  Ana’s nice.”

“When’s the next date then?”  There’s an odd note in Buck’s voice that makes Eddie push off the frame and step closer. 

“There’s not going to be one,” he replies.  “Ana’s nice...but I don’t want to date her.”

Buck stops.  Shuts off the water and turns, leaning back against the sink.

“No?”  Buck’s brow furrows.  “It’s not—do you still feel like you’re not ready?”

“No, it’s not that,” Eddie replies.  “I do think I’m ready.  But with the right person.”

His heart is pounding in his chest, but it’s not fear.  More...anticipation.  

He swallows hard.

“Ana said something that made me realize that...I don’t want to start from scratch with some stranger.”

Eddie takes another step closer and Buck inhales sharply, emotions shifting across his face too quickly for Eddie to name them all.

“Eddie…”  Buck sounds hoarse, a little disbelieving.  He leans forward for a moment before shaking his head, clearing his throat.

“I can’t—I need you to be specific,” he says.  “Because I can’t make assumptions here, I can’t—”

Eddie kisses him.  Steps in far enough that Buck’s body presses flush against his, slides his hand around the back of Buck’s neck, and kisses him.  Buck makes a small noise and grips him right back, his hands curving around Eddie’s hips nearly tight enough to bruise in sharp contrast to the way Eddie’s mouth feathers against his, soft as anything.  

“Specific enough?”  Eddie breathes, staying close enough that their lips brush again.  Buck surges up and uses his grip on Eddie’s hips to turn them, pinning Eddie against the counter as he kisses him again in response.  Once, twice, three times, and Eddie shivers.  

He hasn’t been kissed in so long, hasn’t been touched with intention like this—he’d forgotten what it felt like.  His body floods with heat as Buck’s hands slip under his shirt, spreading wide over his rib cage, and he parts his lips eagerly for Buck’s tongue.

Down the hall, a door closes, and Buck jumps back, Eddie slumping against the counter to keep himself upright.  Buck is flushed and panting and Eddie’s pretty sure he can’t look much better, too warm and electric, wanting, wanting, wanting—

Both of them catch their breath and watch the door, but Christopher doesn’t appear.  After a minute Eddie catches the faint sound of a toilet flushing and he looks back at Buck.  

And he laughs.  It bubbles up from his chest like champagne fizz, bright and warm and right, and apparently it’s contagious because Buck starts up as well, stepping in again and sliding his arms around Eddie’s waist, ducking his head to laugh breathlessly against Eddie’s neck.

When they calm down, Buck stays close, his lips feathering over Eddie’s pulse.  Eddie hums and closes his eyes as he tips his head back to give Buck better access.  

“I’m in love with you,” he says.  “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Buck’s lips curve up against Eddie’s skin.

“Well that’s convenient,” he replies.  “Since Chris was asking me earlier why you couldn’t just date me if you were going to date again.”

Eddie’s startled into another laugh.  “Really?”

“Really.”

Eddie grins and opens his eyes again.  “Hey Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Go out with me?”

Buck snorts and pushes him out of the way so he can go back to the potatoes.  

“Help me finish getting dinner together and we’ll see.”  But the second Eddie turns away, Buck snags him by a belt loop and reels him back in for another kiss.

“Yes,” Buck says.  “Yes.”

And it’s right.           

[honey-milk-depresso]

Meanie (Azul Ashengrotto x Reader) 4

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 (END)

“Ashengrotto.”

“Hmm? Headmaster?”

Why is the headmaster here?

“It pains me..”

“What bothers you, Headmaster?”

“Well,”

Crowley cleared his throat.

“Are you aware of... y/n’s condition?”

“Condition?”

What condition were you in? Is that why you didn’t come? Or did he say something wrong that hurt you and Crowley is here to speak to him about the matter? He’ll take it, honestly. If he hurt you, he will gladly take the scolding and do his best to make sure you feel better.

“Oya oya? What type condition is y/n in?”

“Well, y/n, as you know is a very cheerful young prefect. Nowadays though..”

“Is she depressed? Hurt?”

“Something along those lines.”

Did he do made you upset? He didn’t remember saying something that offensive, did he??

“Well, you see. The thing is-”

“What?”

Crowley swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Y/n is going to die in 5 months time.”

=============================================================

“Ehh??~ Are you in there? Y/n~?”

“H-huh? You guys?”

“Good afternoon. We brought you some food, y/n.”

Azul, Jade and Floyd visited you in the infirmary.

You rubbed your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey! Don’t rub your eyes too much! It’s not good for you!”

“Eh? But I just can’t believe you came to see me!”

“Of course we would! Why wouldn’t we want see a dear friend?”

You didn’t know this would happen, but you were happy to see them not sad about your disease. Rook certainly came in with a dramatic but genuine ‘distress’ earlier, and you’re glad your friends from Octavinelle were calm about it. You needed someone else to be calm to be self assured.

“Ooh! Takoyaki! Wait-”

“FLOYD!” Azul screeched.

“Ehehehehe~ I’m joking~ Here’s your real food koebi chan. The takoyaki is mine.”

He passed you a bento box, inside was a very aesthetically pleasing rice bento art. 

‘Wahhh! It’s so pretty! I- I can’t eat this~”

“Eat up. We heard you haven’t had lunch yet, so we prepared it for you.”

“Aww thanks!”

You heartily ate the bento, to which Jade looked at his.. wrist?

“Ah well, look at the time. Me and Floyd actually have attended business to head to. Well, since you’re free Azul , you can stay with y/n.”

“Wait what-”

Floyd glanced at his brother as he grinned a sinister smile at him.

He stuffed one last takoyaki ball. “Ne~~ Jade’s right! We’ll leave you with y/n, Azul! Bye!” and the twins dashed out of the infirmary.

“Hey! Wait!-”

“Wha-”

“Oh my sevens..”

Azul glanced back at you, a confused look plastered on your face.

Well, he doesn’t mind if it’s just you and him.

“So..”

“So...”

Azul grabbed a chair and place it beside your bed, before sitting down on it the meet your eyes.

“Are you feeling okay?”

You were anything below okay. You felt the hands of death snapping at the very back of  the head board of the bed.

“Well, I guess!” you smiled.

“Hmmm, I see..”

A comfortable silence was brought in.

“Do you want me to do anything for you?”

“Wear a maid dress.”

“Anything but that.”

You laughed loudly.

“Geez, even if you’re sick you still laugh like a clown.”

“Oh shush you big meanie!”

He stifled a chortle. 

“I was joking geez.”

You spent the entire 3 hours just talking with Azul. It felt really short when he said he had to leave to take care of business at the Monstro Lounge. You were kinda sad, but you didn’t want to hold him back any longer.

You smiled gleefully and waved.

“Bye octopus!”

“See you later, y/n.”

He closed the door.

=============================================================

“Koebi chan is....going to die..?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“You can’t cure it?”

“No. Y/n has a severe Huntington’s disease that is incurable. It’s the progressive  breakdown of the nerve cell in the brain and impacts y/n’s broad functional abilities. Once the breakdown is complete, it’s over for them.”

Azul stared at his desk. His expression was unreadable. 

All noise from Crowley and the twins seemed to have drowned away as he went deep in thought, connecting the dots.

The reason why you fell face flat so abruptly wasn’t because you tripped, but because your disease impacted your actions and  jerked involuntarily that made you fell.

The reason you couldn’t calculate a how many times the pendent he bought for you than 10 rings wasn’t because you were lazy to count, but was because your disease made you process calculation much slower and gave you false results.

He thought you were joking when you asked him the last truth before you passed out. But no, you really were-

He suddenly came back to his senses as a tear drop ran down his cheek.

You really were gonna die.

=============================================================

AHHHHHHHH-

By this point my brain is hurting-

I’m trying to be productive with this while killing all the drafts I have left, so again, sorry twst community for blasting shit-

I hoped you enjoy!

Part 5 anyone???

[kaypeace21]

Will’s fear of clowns

*Ps -not mine. this is a submission from an anon. tw: for s.a. It’s an interesting submission. ANON-please make a tumblr account already . I’m begging you XD

Hi! It’s me, Lonnie Meth Anon. Back with more depressing thoughts about Lonnie!

I just read your post on Jonathan’s ab*se at the hands of Lonnie, and I second it all. It breaks my heart. But it also got me thinking deeper about Will’s fear of clowns. I think you’re right that part of the horror for Will is that the clown attacks in bed. The bed is, obviously, like you say, a common site for s*xual assault. (Doesn’t El’s picture of “three legged Brenner” also have a bed in it? In a picture with not much else?) The fact that Will needed Joyce to sleep with him for a week suggests he was specifically feeling unsafe in bed, or at night. 

But maybe it’s not just the location of the attack in Poltergeist that Will found so harrowing. Maybe it’s the combination of that location with the fact of a clown being the attacker. 

I think Lonnie might have dressed up as a clown for Will’s birthday one year, and something happened. 

In this instance, I don’t think Joyce would know what happened. I think the incident in her mind would be something like “Lonnie dressed up and Will was scared of the costume”. She might even have thought it was cute. Just a typical little kid fear of something mundane. When she teases him about Poltergeist, she doesn’t actually say the movie was the START of his fear of clowns. Just that he was afraid of that particular clown. The general fear of clowns could have been an older one, going back to when Will was even younger.

Maybe Will even liked clowns, before whatever happened with Lonnie turned them into a source of fear for him. Will has a lion plushie (lions are commonly found in the circus) and the circus seems like the kind of vibrant, colorful environment full of outcast, that a young gay kid would really enjoy. If Will did like circuses and Lonnie poisoned that for him, that’s just another reason to hate Lonnie. But it definitely seems possible. 

Lonnie is a deadbeat dad in general, but we’ve seen before that he’s capable of faking the “family man” act in front of Joyce and their neighbors. We’ve also seen that even though he treats Will horribly, he would also try and keep Will on his side with father son bonding activities, like baseball. And Will’s birthday is one of the few occasions Lonnie makes a half-assed kind of effort, even when there’s nothing directly in it for him. He sends that card, even though it’s late. Maybe Joyce made called him up and made him send it, but she always seemed happy to keep Lonnie out of the picture. She didn’t even want to involve him when Will went missing. And we know Jonathan would never try and facilitate more interactions between Lonnie and Will. So it seems like Lonnie did this of his own accord, when he realized he’d missed the day. Kind of weird. And it’s classic abuser behavior, to make contact on an anniversary date, reminding you they exist and you can’t escape them. Reminding you to keep quiet. Or hoping you’ll miss them, remember the “good times” when they made an effort, and let them back into your life. (Ugh.)

So, anyway, back to my theory. Young Will likes circuses, and the Byers family are poor, so they can’t afford to take him to one, or throw him a party at an ice cream parlor or a bowling alley, like other kids. It makes sense that they would have a party at home instead, and that the family themselves might dress up. We know Joyce made Will’s Ghostbusters costume in season two, and a clown is a pretty easy costume. Most of it is just make up. It’s possible the whole thing was Joyce’s idea, and she made the costume, and Lonnie just went along with it to look like a good dad in her eyes. 

Remember how we see Bob (Will’s new father figure) dressing up in costume for Halloween? Joyce loves it. This is a thing good dads do, to have fun with their kids. That’s also the same episode we see Will scared by a guy in a clown costume, and Jonathan is hyper-protective of him that night. School is okay, but he doesn’t want him trick or treating. (Like he knows that school is a safe environment, but in other contexts, costumes and parties might be a trigger for Will.) Jonathan is convinced to leave Will and “let him have fun” and what happens? The clown attacks. Later that night Jonathan goes to a costume party himself, where he finds Nancy upset and takes her safely home.  Maybe this is how Will’s birthday party ended - with Jonathan finding Will upset, and trying to comfort him. The whole night could be playing out like a parallel to that birthday party, from Jonathan’s perspective. 

What actually happened with Will and Lonnie is up for debate. It’s possible there was a s*xual assault, and that’s why the clown scene in Poltergeist was such a trigger for Will. Or maybe Lonnie thought circuses weren’t “manly” enough for his son to like, and actively tried to scare Will, so he wouldn’t like them anymore. It’s hard to know. Something would have happened though, and probably something pretty formative, because the fear of clowns lasts a long time. 

Something else interesting is that when Mr Clarke is talking about the Upside Down in season one, he uses the metaphor of the flea and the acrobat. Acrobats are a main act in the circus, and, well … fleas. Flea circuses. That’s a thing. Maybe it’s a hint that the trauma that created the Upside Down was circus / clown - related?

Kali, El, and their gang wear clown masks too, when they’re going to confront their childhood trauma, and the child-like Alexei is surrounded by clowns when he is killed at the fair. 

Clowns are just so associated with birthday parties and little kids, that it doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me they’re Will’s biggest fear. Especially as the show keeps dropping hints about Lonnie and Will’s birthday. It feels like there’s more to the story. I have a horrible feeling SOMETHING happened. 

RESPONE (kaypeace):

I think it’s very possible-that maybe he did dress as a clown for Will’s birthday and something happened. We have alexi (paralleled to Will) playing carnival games with kids. Then he's attacked by the Lonnie-look alike : and alexi looks at his wound then stares at all the clowns laughing around him. Joyce and Murray find Alexi bleeding/dy*ng next to a clown statue. As joyce looks in horror and Murray says to her, he was “only gone for a second” (which sounds like something you’d say in relation to a kid you were supposed to watch-running off ). We also had sarah at age 7 die while wearing a gown with clowns on it (Will: it was a 7 the demogorgan it got me). Death of innocence symbolism? Hopper also describes his depression as a cave- he goes through the carnival ride where it mentions a "cave of horrors", which had decor of a tiger and a clown painting. So yeah... whatever happened probably isn't good. So- there may be some symbolism there in relation to Will’s past. Not only because (like I and you have mentioned before) Lonnie is highly associated with birthdays. And canonically we know he mentally scarred jonathan on his b-day. But also, s4’s ‘victor creel’ may be an easteregg to the xmen character victor creed- who had a tradition of tra*matizing family members specifically on their bdays

As another alternative:I could also totally see Lonnie “ruining” circuses for Will because it’s not “manly” to him. Like how Jonathan liked thumper the rabbit-from the film bambi. in the film, Thumper is bambi’s bff, and the hunters are the bad guys who k*ll Bambi’s mother and terrorize all the wildlife. SO yeah- making Jonathan become a hunter, and k*ll a rabbit ,despite this fact, is really messed up. And shows Lonnie has already tried to ‘ruin’ things the boys like. By mentally scarring them in one way or another…

I also mentioned how Will’s bday could even be a trigger for jonathan in a diff post.

if the s4 bts calender hinting it’ll be near Will’s bday and easter it could be relevant to Jonathan.we know in s1 el has tra*matic flashbacks when seeing certain things- coke, closet, cat, etc. And Will in s2 has his ‘anniversary effect’ where memories flood back based on the time of year.But like … Easter has bunnies - could seeing rabbits jog stuff up for Jonathan? El seeing a cat made her have a flashback of brenner trying to make her kill a cat. Would Jonathan seeing like Easter bunny decor jog up a flashback of lonnie making him kill a rabbit? (It happened on his bday too). So Will’s b day being around easter would only fuel that memory. (heck even popped balloons may trigger gunshot symbolism idk). And then for Will there is clowns that could be a tr*gger at a party.

The flea and the acrobat analogy (in relation to Will and circuses is very interesting) and could be foreshadowing- it’s even a title for an episode so I feel like it’s narratively an important hint to …something. similar to a s1 ep being called “the bathtub”.  Also, Will was compared to a circus flea- which were placed in an enclosed space, where heat was applied as they jumped  and tried to escape the increasing temperatures as they burned .Which could relate to my theory about Will having a se*zure due his body overheating due to Lonnie injecting him with m*th.

 If Will’s bday is in s4- I feel like Lonnie will come back in some capacity (flashback or literally). The ‘sorry, I forgot you b day’ card from Lonnie in s2, in Lonnie’s shed Joyce mentioning Will’s b day, the rainbow ‘happy birthday cup’ placed next to Will at Mike’s -while Will explains the supernatural, Lonnie already tra*matizing Jonathan on his bday, etc…

[inskz]

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop  on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse. 

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence. 

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them). 

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you. 

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now. 

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago. 

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh). 

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before  since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him. 

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen. 

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff. 

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.  

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it. 

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups. 

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything. 

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas. 

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly. 

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil. 

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear. 

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch. 

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.  

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. 

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.  

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little… 

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter. 

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered. 

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask. 

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain. 

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.  

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in. 

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt. 

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately. 

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget). 

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground. 

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you. 

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch. 

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy. 

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials. 

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.  

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter. 

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview. 

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes. 

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can. 

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today. 

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.  

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso. 

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling. 

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue). 

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you? 

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time. 

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall. 

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next. 

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right? 

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.  

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should. 

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.  

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball. 

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves. 

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious. 

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.  

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in. 

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start. 

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. 

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil. 

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.  

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - - 

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him. 

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross. 

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal. 

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning. 

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes. 

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it. 

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe. 

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars. 

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate. 

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm? 

[finalgirlbrainrot]

Dean very likely beat Sam when they were growing up. Notice how Sam was never surprised when Dean punched him on the show (you can see Sam expecting Dean to turn violent as early as in the Pilot - I'm talking about the bridge scene). Dean was definitely not the loving caretaker, sacrificing his own childhood and always standing up for Sam as the fandom likes to picture it.

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

I mean, even as children, we see dean verbally lashing out at sam and while that instance can be brushed aside as him being a kid, the fact that, like you said, sam wasn't surprised when dean got violent with him in the pilot and the fact that it kept happening over and over again over the course of the series, with sam rarely responding, clearly shows that it's a consistent pattern

and yeah, dean definitely wasn't the caretaker people make him out to be and sam's childhood wasn't wasn't all flowers and puppies. I mean, let's look at what we actually know about sam's childhood (this is gonna get a bit long, oops)

100% canon informations about sam's childhood and his life before stanford (and about dean as a caretaker):

- sam never had a normal childhood, his childhood was taken away from him when he was six months old (as opposed to dean who had a normal childhood until he was four)

- he never had a stable home (something that, again, dean had for four years)

- he was forced to move around from school to school every couple of weeks

- he never had a mom to cut the crusts off of his toast

- just as the level of information was damaging to dean, the level of secrecy was damaging to sam, because it left him unable to protect himself when he was left alone

- he almost got killed by a shtriga once

- he was often left alone in random motels at a very young age

- he was so lonely and neglected that he needed a zanna

- he was so lonely and neglected that he wanted to run away

- he was fourteen years old the first time someone asked him what he wanted to do with his life. no-one in his family had ever bothered to ask him what he wanted. dean was eighteen at the time, so it can't really be attributed to him being a child; the fact that he never asked sam what he wanted is proof enough that he wasn't the caretaker people make him out to be

- he was expected to blindly follow john and dean's obsession to avenge mary, but he's not even allowed to mention her

- dean supported and sided with john during the fight before sam left for stanford

- I don't know if people consider it as canon, but in john's diary, john said that dean almost hit sam before he left and he had to hold him back and he even said something about how he didn't expect dean to cut ties with sam (so for the people who claim john forced dean to chose or whatever: don't, it was 100% dean's choice to side with john)

- he was literally disowned for wanting to go to college

- in 1x08 dean victim blamed sam for john's abuse

- this convo from 1x08: "remind you of somebody?" "dad? dad never treated us like that" "well, dad never treated you like that. you were perfect. he was all over my case" "maybe he had to raise his voice, but sometimes you were out of line"

- "I remember that fight. in fact, I seem to recall a few choice phrases coming out of your mouth" yeah, sorry, but if my dad disowns me for wanting to go to college, I'm allowed to say a few "choice phrases"

- in 7x03 dean gave john the phone so he could guilt trip sam into exhausting himself doing research (yet people love to cling to the completely fanon "dean protected sam from john's abuse" bullshit)

- sam to amy: "my dad [has a temper] too. you don't want to see him when he's drinking" (yet people love to insist that dean was the only one who was physically abused)

- when he told john that he was afraid of the thing under his bed, he handed him a weapon. what a nice normal childhood

- he was so miserable with the life john and dean forced him into that his ~~~family was missing from his heaven. everyone loves to make sam's heaven in 5x16 about poor dean's ~~~feelings, but no-one stops to consider that, if these are sam's happiest memories, then he must be pretty fucking miserable

- he never even had a proper thanksgiving with his family

- dean was four, there's literally no way he was able to raise him

- he always felt unclean and impure even as a kid

- he was left for hours at pennywhistle's all by himself and developed a clown phobia as a result (a phobia that dean, as a full grown adult, mocks him for)

- people love to use the lucky charms incident to fuel their parentification fantasies but that's something literally any older sibling would do. I've also seen people use it as a proof that dean starved for sam or whatever and like,,, let me tell you something: literally no starving kid would throw away perfectly good food like that EVER

- john and dean made him feel like a freak because he wanted to go to school and live his life

- the ONLY time we ever see dean not taking john's side is in 1x21. and he wasn't taking sam's side either, he was just playing peacemaker

- sam thought that even if they found him, john wouldn't even want to see him

- even bobby said that john always pushed sam away

100% canon information about john's treatment of dean vs his treatment of sam:

- john literally died for dean and his last words were that he might have to kill sam

- dean saying that he always gets the extra cookie

- when john came back as a ghost, he gave dean a comforting pat on the shoulder and merely nodded at sam

- when they reunited in s1, john hugged dean, while barely acknowledging sam

- again, the convo from 1x08 I quoted above

BUT azazel said sam was john's favourite, so I guess that's more reliable than all the on screen evidence to the contrary

send me unpopular opinions

[purple-stuck]

I really adore your writing! Can I PLEASE request a purple Sollux drabble? Maybe interacting with gamzee?

hey, gz. wanna hang out?

Gamzee stared down at his phone, squinting his eyes at the purple text. Somewhere in his addled think pan he thought it was strange. Sollux hardly hung out with anyone in person. He was always a shut in, especially for Purple blood standards. Only clown who'd attended less church was probably Gamzee himself and that was only because Sollux sometimes made video calls. But, ever sense Aradia... it was a miracle he still answered texts.

Still, Gamzee wasn't gonna say no to his blood brother's company. Maybe Feferi helped him cope. Maybe he went pale for Karkat, those two had always been close. Hardly mattered.

WeLl, ShIt. SuRe MoThErFuCkEr. CaN't SaY nO tO a NiCe AnD pRoPeR hAnGiNg SeSsIoN. wAnT mE tO sWiNg By YoUr PlAcE, oR wHaT?

nah. ii'm at the door. ii wa2 iin the area and fiigured ii'd a2k.

Right on cue, there was indeed a knock at Gamzee's front door. Huh. Sollux must've been right at the door when he texted. Made sense. If Karkat was any indication, Sollux had a habit of just barging into a brother's hive like he lived there and playing all their video games. Probably remembered at the last second that he and Gamzee weren't that close.

When Gamzee open the front door, he found himself staring at Captor's chest. Even hunched over as he was, Sollux was still the tallest troll Gamzee knew. The boy managed to be both lankier and buffer than Gamzee somehow. Granted, that's not hard. It'd be a stretch to call any version of Sollux Captor buff, but any purple blood with a proper lusus was going to be thicker than Gamzee.

Gamzee stopped that thought dead before it sunk in any deeper.

"At least I know I'm not interrupting anything." Sollux said dryly. "That's not the hair of someone who had plans for the evening."

Gamzee snorted, appreciating that the ribbing was good natured. Sollux didn't regard him with the same contempt, say, Equius did, so it was hard to take anything he said as an actual insult. Same deal with Karkat, really. "So, what brings you around to my hive? Feferi finally convince you to go outside?"

Sollux's lips twitched into a smirk before he jutted his thumb behind him. "Nah. I'm just picking up an old hobby."

Gamzee's eyes trailed to the cart Sollux had parked at the bottom of the steps, a chill going down his spine at the sight of faintly blue blood trailing down it's side. "Oh..."

Gamzee's eyes twitched back to Sollux, who just sighed. "I'm on my second kill, so don't worry. I don't kill in odd numbers. Plus, I've seen you making diamond eyes at Karkat and I'm not that much of a dick."

Gamzee let go off a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Well, it's good to know I won't be adding to Aradia's fucking corpse collection-"

Sollux stiffened and Gamzee stopped dead. Shit. Fuck. He should know better. What was he doing bring up Aradia, fuck-

"It's... fine." Sollux sighed, bringing his hand to his temple as he steadied himself. "I'm fine. It's fine. She would've found it funny, anyways." Sollux forced a smile onto his face. "Besides, you're not wrong. She'd love to throw corpse parties for these motherfuckers in whatever rung of the Dark Carnival she wound up in."

Gamzee laughed politely and stepped aside to let Sollux in before the conversation got any more uncomfortable. Sollux plopped onto the couch, quickly propping his legs up on the table. "You got any video games? I somehow doubt you're much of a shooter fan."

Gamzee grunted, sliding him a faygo as he took his seat. "Nah. Tav got me into fiduspawn. You ever play that?"

Sollux snorted. "Funny story about that, actually. EQ got me into it. I was talking shit about it around him and he protested that NP was into it."

"Did he? Shit, man, good for him. He always kinda... rolls over around me. Motherfucker's always trying to please me."

"Well, yeah. It's NP we're talking about here. You'd complain is I started talking shit about Tavros."

Gamzee blinked. That was... oddly pointed coming from Sollux. Sure, every word sounded like a sarcastic insult when you put it in his mouth, but it sounded like he was trying to make a point. That suddenly serious stare wasn't helping, and it made Gamzee cough uncomfortably.

"Uh, yeah, I would." His eyes flickered towards the door. Towards the cart. "...Why?"

"You got any feelings for him?"

Now this was starting to get wildly out of character. Sollux was the last person to stick his nose into anyone's love life, unless it was to annoy Eridan somehow. Hell, people just being sappy around him annoyed him, which made this even more bizarre.

"Yeah, well, Tav, said he wasn't interested."

"He's not?"

"Look, bro, I appreciate it, but we don't need an auspistice. You can't mediate what ain't there."

"But you do feel something for him. You care about him, pitch, red, I don't care how." Sollux was almost looming over him now, even without standing up. Gamzee was beginning to wonder whether he should go for his clubs when Sollux sighed.

"Right, right. That.... probably doesn't make any sense to you. I'm sorry." He stood up, face not just sour like usual, but outright grim. "Let me show you what I'm talking about."

Sollux made his way to the door wheeled his cart inside, a chill went down Gamzee's spine.

"...Bro. Did you?"

"No. Gog no. Fucking Messiahs above, hell no! I cull trolls but I'm not a sick fuck who parades their corpses around in front of their friends."

Sollux looked down at the cart, at the body hidden beneath the crumpled sheet. He seemed far, far away for a moment, like his soul had been taken by the Messiahs themselves and his body was an empty shell they left behind.

"You... know Aradia's dead, right?"

Gamzee relaxed, more confused and sad now than afraid. "Yeah."

Sollux looked at him. "Do you know how she died?"

Sollux didn't need an answer and he didn't wait for one. The purple voids of his eyes showed behind his matching glasses. "It started... when Vriska abducted me."

"I was out doing my regular, bi-wipely rounds. Looking for two bodies for Aradia to preserve in a 'corpse party'. Or, more accurately, looking to make two bodies for her to preserve."

"I'd spotted a couple of burgundies, so I went to make my move. I'd barely seen Vriska's face by the time the bag was over my head and by then the needles were in my neck. My guess is she'd paid some FLARPers to help her. I know damn well she couldn't handle me alone."

"When I woke up, I was in Vriska's hive. She looked so... fucking smug when she had me all chained up. She explained what Aradia did to her. Talked about how she'd sent some ghosts her way... and she wanted to get even."

"So Vriska was going to have me kill Aradia."

"That's when the torture began. It was pretty amateurish, but that's all it needed to be. She just needed to distract me, make a crack for her to slip into... one opening was all she needed to grab my mind."

Sollux was staring down at nothing by the time he finished, bending the metal handles of his cart with his grip.

"I still remember the walk to Aradia's hive." He said, choking back something. "I could hear her scream in my mind before she even saw me."

Gamzee's hand landed on his shoulder, snapping Sollux back to reality. Sollux pushed the smaller clown back before clearing his throat. "So, the next time I left my hive, I decided to pay Serket a visit."

Sollux threw the tarp off to reveal Vriska's mangled body. Or, what was of it.

Gamzee took at a step back. The amount of patchwork Sollux had to do to get Vriska's upper torso back in one piece would be impressive if it didn't imply how grizzly the scene must've been before he started. Tellingly, Sollux didn't even try to put Vriska's legs back together. He just dumped the soupified slop into a box and put it on the bottom shelf of his cart.

"Jegus..."

"Yeah, I got carried away."

Gamzee backed up and fell onto the couch, mostly just to get away from the smell. Sollux pulled his two swords out of Vriska's head, wiping them clean in one quick stroke.

"So... why are you telling me this?" Gamzee asked.

Sollux seemed to think for a moment, staring at his reflection in the blades. "To try to understand." He waved his blades vaguely over Vriska's... "body" for lack of a better word. "Most of this was unnecessary. She died quickly but... it wasn't satisfying."

Sollux looked at Gamzee meaningfully. "I figured you could tell me why."

Gamzee's eyes widened. "Shit, man, you mean because..."

"Of Tavros. Yeah. Vriska killed him. The army won't take someone who can't walk and he has no where else to go. That's assuming someone like, well, me, doesn't just pick him up off the streets. He's living on borrowed time on a planet like this, and that's all her fault."

Sollux looked at Gamzee meaningfully. "So... is this satisfying to you?"

Gamzee sunk into the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "Fuck, man. You can't do this to a motherfucker. This is a lot to drop on me all at once." He looked at the corpse, trying not to curl his nose at the sight. "...I mean... no. Fuck, I'd hesitate to say anyone even deserves that, but mostly it just makes me feel... kinda sick."

Sollux slumped down. "I don't get it. This should be satisfying. We should be glad that she's dead, but we're not."

Again, Gamzee was there, suddenly resting a hand on Sollux's shoulder. "...Look, man. I'm sorry I'm not any help with this. Karbro is so much better at this shit than me, but..."

"...I guess it's not really her death that we're looking for. We're looking for a way to make it so all the problems she caused never happened. And... that's not gonna happen. I've accepted that Tav's not gonna get his legs back... and I think he's accepted that too. And, Aradia, wherever she might be now up in that Dark Carnival, knows that she's not coming back either. So... shit, maybe we should just... keep moving?"

Sollux stared at him blankly, before that default grouchy snarl crept back onto his face. "That's a really shitty way to end that spiel, you know that?"

Gamzee shrugged, that some color had bled back into Sollux's face. "Well, shit. I'm no Karkat and you know it."

"Yeah, you're not. I'd still be huddled up inside without that grouchy asshole."

Sollux sighed. Not tiredly, but like a weight had been lifted somewhat. With all that off his chest, Sollux tilted his head up. He nonchalantly lined up his swords and slid them down his throat, swallowing up his blades until only the hilts remained to dangled beneath his uvula. Gamzee squinted at him curiously.

"....What?"

"Shit, man, I have no idea how you manage to talk like that."

Sollux smirked, grabbing his faygo off the table and chugging it in two swigs. At this point, he was just showing off. "Very, very carefully. I'll teach you sometime."

Sollux threw the tarp back onto his cart and began peddling it out the door. "I'd better get going, the sun will rise soon." Gamzee waved him off as he opened the door, pausing just before he closed. "Oh, by the way. You owe me a game night. This one derailed."

Gamzee just nodded as Captor slammed the door, knowing that was Sollux-ese for "let's hang out sometime".