#and i contemplate just how different these two apps are

[jessamine-rose]

/obey me! vent/

[luvhughes43]

blue lines | blake hughes au

[blake hughes au]

summary: blake and nico have a pregnancy scare

mentions: periods, pregnancy, anxiety, etc.

word count: 0.9k

blake and nico couldn't keep their hands off each other. it was simply a known fact amongst their shared group of friends. everyone who knew blake as a determined, self-loathing teenager was always shocked to find out how pro pda and touchy she was with her boyfriend.

everyone also thought that the two would grow out of their "honeymoon phase" which to the displeasure of certain family members - commonly known as jack - the months apart during the off-season only reignited the couples... touchy nature.

which is why... after an increased amount of ... physically intensive fall activities blake wasn't too shocked to find that her period was a few days late.

"i'm late," blake pierces the quiet atmosphere in nico's apartment.

"late for what?" nico questions, not even bothering to look up from his phone. "i thought you said you weren't busy today,"

blake pauses and blinks in quick succession. "well no im talking about-" she pauses again before rechecking her period tracking app. she holds the glaring 3 WEEKS LATE page towards nico, "like... im late late. i haven't been late since i was competing," blake passes her phone to nico who studies her app with rapt attention.

"i've really... never been late before," blake repeats as she paces around her boyfriends living room. she suffered from stress and extensive workout related absent periods - and since she retired from skating she had regained and had a pretty consistent cycle. "i'm pregnant," she blurts out nervously as she avoids eye contact with nico.

"okay, it's going to be okay," nico tries to soothe blake. he silently stumbles towards her and she jumps when he rests his hand soothingly against her shoulder. "let's go to the store and we'll get some tests,"

blake nods thoughtlessly and lets herself be dragged out of the door by nico. it's not that she didn't want to be a mother - blake thinks as she watches nico's neighborhood fly by as he weaves carefully through traffic. she was just too young, the relationship too new... she wasn't ready to be responsible for another human being.

blake doesn't remember stepping out of the car and walking into the pharmacy. her breathing is heavy and laboured as she stares at a wall full of pregnancy tests. "i don't know which one we need..." her voice is unfamiliar to her own ears. she was only twenty-one, how was she supposed to be a mother? and nico... he was just announced captain last season and was finally starting to get into the groove of things.

nico grabs a variety of tests and blake takes the opportunity to study his face. his brows are arched in contemplation and if he was nervous blake isn't able to tell. blake grabs a box of the closet tests and examines it.

"how many do you think we need?" nico asks suddenly. he holds his hands out towards her, and different brands flash up towards her menacingly.

"three? two should be fine i don't-"

"nico hischier!" a loud and unfamiliar voice announces to the whole store. "could i get a picture with you?"

blake wordlessly takes the pregnancy tests and wanders down the aisle. "uh, yeah sure," nico smiles with uncertainty as he throws an arm around the young fan. nico pulls him out of the aisle and he sends blake looks of concern but she just waves him off to focus on the fan.

nico's quick with the photo and after a few words about the upcoming season nico's quick to rejoin blake. "do you think he saw what we were buying?" blake asks nervously as she holds up the tests in her hands.

"no it's alright," nico tries and reassures the trembling blake.

"i'm sorry im so scared i just... i dont know how to feel right now," she whispers into nico's side. his arm tightens around her as they stand in the comfort of each others embrace.

"it's okay, just try and relax" nico kisses her hairline and she's suddenly plagued with a rush of guilt. it felt like she was always leaning on him more than she should - instead of allowing him space to feel anxious as well. "i'm scared too," he says softly - as if sensing blakes thoughts.

with no more interruptions or disrupting anxious thoughts - the young couple make it through check-out with ease.

they shuffle into nico's apartment and blake immediately beelines it for his bathroom. nico waits politely outside the door.

"they all say to wait three minutes," blake says with a handful of tests.

"i'll set a timer," nico supplies and fishes his phone out from his back pocket.

the two sit outside the bathroom door - legs crossed with the tests laying in front of themselves face-down. blake wordlessly reaches for nico's hand who squeezes it silently.

"we'll figure it out you know - if they're positive," nico gestures towards the tests in front of them.

"i know," blake whispers. she grasps his arm in both of her own and leans her head against his shoulder. "i'm sorry for zoning out earlier i was just..."

"scared? you have nothing to be sorry for,"

"okay,"

"okay."

the minutes drag, and when nico's alarm finally rings out the young couple jolts upright. blake immediately reaches for the closet test and flips it over with a manicured hand. nico flips another, and the tension in the room finally settles.

negative

|

negative

blake leans her head back against nico's shoulder and the rise and fall of his breathing soothes her.

[tmblrcolouredpaper]

Needed Cuddles

You feel uncomfortable on the full bus at night, but your friends are there to take care of you. They need you just as much though.

Lee Minho/ Lee Know; Hwang Hyunjin, reader

Late night conversation and comfort, walking together, care and comfort, suggestive jokes, friendship

wc: 1716

It wasn't the first time you had to be on the train during the late hours of the day. Normally, the darkness didn't scare you, but it was a completely different story when you were surrounded by masses of people that you didn't know, that you haven't even seen before. On top of that, today's train got cancelled and you had to take the substituting bus. Therefore, the route was another factor of unfamiliarity.

After contemplating for good 20 minutes wether you should call Minho or not, you gave in, because your silent tears that made their way down your cheeks were a significant indicator for highly needed comfort.

'Hello?', sounded from your phone, followed by some audible steps and a final flop onto the sofa, you assumed.

'Hi', you whispered, because on one hand you didn't want to disturb the other passengers, and on the other hand you didn't trust your voice to not immediately tremble.

'You okay?', Minho asked without hesitation, his voice worried.

'Yes, it's just...', you trailed off and tried to find words that didn't feel totally silly.

You're an adult. For god's sake, you should be able to get home from work without crying.

to your friend about it.

'Breathe', Minho instructed, well aware of your habit to unvoluntarily hold your breath.

You felt better right away. Breathing helped, but so did hearing his voice.

'I'm on the bus', you managed to tell him and he hummed, waiting for you to continue.

'It's full here and dark. I got a seat, but I can't see much. It's dark', you stammered and fixated some lights in the distance.

'How long do you have to be on the bus?', he asked and you checked the app.

'One hour', you mumbled and hated everything about the situation you found yourself in.

'Keep breathing. Can you count the number of lights you see in the next five minutes? Say the numbers out loud to me, yeah? Can you do that?', he requested and you nodded, but then you remembered he wasn't here and couldn't see you, so you quickly added a hushed 'yes'.

'What's you favorite colour?', he suddenly asked and you responded, 'Red?', in confusion.

There were some street lanterns, so you counted, 'one , two, three, four, five'.

Minho didn't give you a break and asked:'Ass or tits?'

You chuckled, because you were too shy to burst out in laughter. You were in public after all.

'What?', you asked, now ultimately confused.

'Do you. Prefer. My ass. Or my tits', he repeated slower and overly pronounced.

'Hmmm. That's a tough question', you announced and added the numbers six to eleven on the lights list.

'Come on. Feel free to sexualize me. You won't get the chance too often', he chuckled and you wished you were at home already. His laugh sounded even prettier in person.

'That's a very limited amount of options. I can't choose!', you exclaimed and focoused on your breath a bit more again.

'Okayy. Then, do you prefer cuddling with Hyunjin or me?', he switched the question.

'Hey. Don't do that', you whispered and really strongly wished you were home.

'Lights?', he asked and you answered by saying 'thirteen'.

'He doesn't have a chance against me, right?', he added and you could vividly imagine his grin.

'Actually, I'd rank him higher than you', you joked.

'Ouch. Well, okay. No cuddles for you once you're home. And I was looking forward to holding and consoling you the whole night, but, oh well...', he sighed dramatically.

'I'll just go to Hyunjin's room then', you provoked further.

'You didn't call Hyunjin but me tho', he said seriously and you have to give him that point, but only because you didn't want to disturb Hyunjin in his evening's art routine.

'You also can't choose between his ass and tits, because they are basically nonexistent, making me a better cuddling partner. Choose wisely, dear idiot' Minho added and his time was funnily philosophical, as if he would spread holy wisdom.

All he achieved was making you smile at the ridiculousy. You felt lighter than before the call and added two more lights to the list.

Fifteen was the final number after the given time frame of five minutes and after another check-in about your current state and the assurance that you felt better, Minho started talking about his day, telling you many details down to the fur pattern of every cat he saw in the streets.

The bus stopped at the final destination and you got off happily. The people around you spread into various directions and when you finally got a clear view onto your path that leads home, you were paralysed in surprise due to the unexpected visitor that was smiling at you.

'Minho! When did you go to Hyunjin?', you almost screamed into the phone and were only met with Minho's evil laughter.

'There is this thing called texting and it works while being on a phone call, you dumbass', he explained and hung up with no further comment.

Hyunjin stepped in front of you, snatched your bag away and pulled you into a hug. His hair was pushed back with a hairband and there was some dried paint on his neck and when he pulled away, you found some more spots on his hands.

'I didn't want to disturb you', you mumbled, guilt rising, because he was outside at night instead of having a cozy painting session.

'You didn't. It was Minho', he responded and giggled, pulling your bag over his shoulder.

'Sorry', you apologised anyway and nodded into the direction you had to walk to.

Hyunjin just nodded, took your hand and tucked you closer next to him while you two started walking.

You were freezing by the time you finally entered the appartment complex and you were sure it was rather due to your tiredness than the cold evening air. Hyunjin knocked on the apartment's door and Minho opened, looking bored, almost annoyed.

'Good evening', Hyunjin chirped and put on an extra cheerful and energized character to annoy Minho who was clearly tired and impatient at this late hour.

'Go lick some more paint', Minho mumbled, but contrary to his words, patted Hyunjin's shoulder in a friendly manner and smiled at him, nonverbally thanking him.

Hyunjin just shook his head and gave you a quick goodbye hug and handed you your bag.

Stepping into the dorm was the best feeling you could have imagined this evening. You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but actually, you were to tired to give into even one of those impulses.

Minho trailed off into the kitchen and you went to take a shower. There was a cup of ramen and a glass of water on the living room table once you returned, originally because you wanted to go to bed. However, Minho called you and told you to eat.

'You need energy after today's stress', he reminded you and watched you until you finished everything he put in front of you. He vanished and returned with freshly cut peaches once and another time with some chocolate, because according to him, chocolote was necessary to finish an overwhelming day. Of course, you didn't dare to disagree.

With freshly brushed teeth you finally made your way to your room and layed down, quickly texting Minho and Hyunjin messages to express how thankful you were for them being there for you this evening and then in no time sleep took over your tired mind and body.

You woke up at the sound of someone knocking on your door and when it cracked open slightly, the light from the living room entered.

'What?', you groaned and got Minho's chuckle as an response.

'Did I wake you?', he then proceeded to ask and you told him that, yes, this was the fucking case.

'Just wanted to say that you did well today', he mumbled and you, still half asleep and barely registering his words, nodded.

'Okay. What do you want?', you grumbled, honestly pissed that he woke you up.

'I promised you cuddles', he said cutely and you hated it, but laughed after all.

'You big baby. Be honest, do you want some cuddles?', you asked, fully aware of his enjoyment of regular cuddle sessions that he always claimed to just be kinda okay with and is mainly doing them, because you or the others needed them.

'Nah, I don't. Just thought you wanted', he huffed and was about to close the door again, but you hurried out of bed and held onto the door. The blanked was halfly wrapped around one leg, luckily didn't cause you to stumble, and you noticed that you were still holding onto one plushie. You laughed at this observation and Minho eyed you up and down and laughed as well.

'You're embaressing', he joked and patted the plushie in your arm.

'So are you. Just for the record, you would be trapped in my arms just like this little furball here, when I'd have to get up while we cuddled', you said, nodding down.

Minho pulled the plushie away from you.

'You'd let someone pull me away that easily too?', he questioned.

'If it was someone I trust, then yes', you explained and saw Minho's eyes widen.

Absently, he handed you back plushie.

'Can we now cuddle? I'm too tired to make you ask for them yourself', you whined and went back to bed.

Minho closed the door and followed you. He freed you from the blanket trap and tucked you in, before he pulled you into his frame, holding you close.

'You did well today too, Minho', you mumbled against him and buched his bangs out of his eyes.

'Thanks. Are you okay now?'.

He pulled the blanket over himself and you pushed the pillow further under his head. He dropped into it with a content sigh.

'I'm okay. I'm so tired, I'll be gone in two seconds', you announced and Minho hummed in recognition.

'I needed those cuddles today as well', he whispered, but you were already back asleep, the plushie squeezed between you two and one arm thrown around Minho's waist, pinning him comfortably close to you for the next few hours.

[alexfromjersey]

𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼 & 𝓛𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓓𝓪𝔂𝓼

jenna ortega x g!poc

summary: it's jenna's last day in new york. jah contemplates a career move

warnings: mature language, a male

a/n: imma be honest with y’all….I lost all the creativity for this book. I was struggling to find a path for it but I found one and I hope you guys enjoy it. (Vc: sensei.klx on TikTok)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

THE NEXT DAY

"Our baby is big as a lemon right now. At this stage, our baby's intestines and vocal cords are developing. Tiny bones are also beginning to form in the arms and legs. This is so fascinating" Jenna gushed as she leaned more into your side.

You were currently focused on the intense game of baseball as your feet were propped on your coffee table. The two of you were enjoying each other's company until Jenna had to leave for London to film Beetlejuice 2 later tonight.

"Are we going to have a baby shower?" You asked.

"Yeah just a small one though and a little more into my pregnancy, maybe when I'm around 30 weeks" Jenna answered.

You nodded at your girlfriend. Your attention is then stolen by the Yankees vs. Padres baseball game on the TV. Jenna continued looking at the information the pregnancy app provided on her phone. Suddenly, the buzzer to your apartment goes off. You go to the buzzer, "Who is it?"

"Yuh Mada" Delyse responded. You buzz your mother in and unlock the door so she can come in. You then sat back down next to Jenna. A few minutes later, Del burst into the apartment with multiple bags in her hands.

You sighed, "Ma what is all that?"

"Nothing for you, some of this is for Jenna and...maybe the baby. Anyway, Jenna since you are leaving tonight I packed you a little pregnancy kit. I got you some prenatal vitamins, ginger & peppermint for any nausea you may get, and raspberry leaves for your iron and it can increase milk production if you decide to breastfeed" Del listed off.

Jenna's heart swelled at your mother's thoughtfulness, "Thank you so much Ms. Delyse. I appreciate this."

"Oh sweetie, us mothers have to stick together and watch over one another" Del smiled at the young woman.

"Do I get anything?" You ask.

"You get a non-cranky baby mother" Del replied to you.

You playfully glare at your mother. Del handed Jenna the bag of her stuff and sat opposite the couple. The buzzer to your apartment goes off again. You groan in frustration and confusion about who it could be.

"Who is it?" You asked.

"Davis" Davis answered. You buzzed him in and sat in your spot again. Soon after, Davis walks in with a flyer in his hand.

"Hey, Ms. Del I haven't seen you in a minute. How was Jamaica?" Davis asked.

"Wonderful. I needed that vacation" Del answered.

"I feel that. I need a vacation too. I haven't been on one in months" Davis said and sat in the empty spot next to you and Jenna.

"We should plan to go to the Bahamas" You suggest.

"Oh let's do it I've always wanted to go to the Bahamas," Davis said.

You then notice the flyer in his hand, "What's that?"

"Oh, that's why I came over here. This is a music competition, winner gets a five million dollar record deal with Passion Records. I saw that Twitter video of you singing, you should sign up" Davis proposed.

"Nah I'm good" You declined.

Davis looked at you in shock, "What? Why not?"

"I don't wanna be under another label. I've done it before and it went sideways. I don't want people telling me what music to make or getting the majority of the money I worked hard for" You explained and shrugged your shoulders.

"But it can expose you to different opportunities so you can propel yourself properly in the industry. You don't have to stay under a label forever" Davis said.

You sighed, "I don't know I'll think about it."

"Well, you better think about it sooner than later. The deadline to submit your demo is in two weeks" Davis informed you and handed you the flyer.

You read over it and the information on the paper. Submission deadline ends on June 15th at 11:59 pm. Any type of music is accepted but it has to be under three minutes. Five million dollar record label with Passion Records. You heard about the label, but before signing with the local one, you tried numerous times to get a rep. to listen to your music. You never got a response from them. But now you have a chance to finally pursue your dream of being a global sensation in music. A dream you've had since you were 8 and went to your first concert.

Maybe it would be a great opportunity.

"We still going to the courts around 1?" Davis asked.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that. Sisqo owes me my $50 from the last game" You said.

"What's the courts?" Jenna questioned.

"Basketball courts around the corner from her. Me and Davis always play a pickup game with some friends from the block every Friday" You answered.

"Oh, can I come?" Jenna asked.

"Of course. You can see me whoop some ass in basketball" You smirked.

🤰🏻🩵

"Jah!" You heard Davis yell from your right. Your eyes glance at Davis who was getting pressed by his defender. You knew if you passed it to him, he was either going to lose the ball or shoot and miss. You were down by 2 and if the other team scored it was game over. You had to play smart.

You pass it to Davis but you sprinted behind him to shake your defender. You were successful and got to the corner where Davis passed it to you. You caught it and immediately shot a three. You watched as it swished in the net, winning you the game.

"Yeah, buddy!" You exclaimed excitedly.

Jenna clapped and cheered on the sidelines while you and Davis dapped each other up. She sat back down in her seat while you started talking to the other team. She was surprised she even sat through the whole basketball game. She was more into soccer than any other sport but pick-up basketball was entertaining.

"Mind if I sit here?" A soft voice brought Jenna out of her thoughts. She looked to her right and saw an angelic woman. She looked like a Disney princess.

"No, no go for it" Jenna smiled. She grabbed her book from beside her but she felt eyes burning into the side of her head. She looked and saw the woman staring at her with recognition in her eyes.

"My apologies for staring at you but I love your work. Wednesday is currently my favorite series right now. You also did your thing in the Scream movies" The woman complimented.

"Thank you so much" Jenna gave the woman another smile.

"You know I never expected to run into you in the Bronx. This is the last place I ever thought" The woman chuckled.

Jenna nervously chuckled, "Yeah...just hanging and watching some basketball."

She didn't want to deal with a fan's pressing questions. She knew she should've put her disguise on. But luckily, Jenna relaxed a little when she saw you look at the woman with recognition in her eyes. Jenna watched as you tapped Davis rapidly on his arm and pointed toward the bleachers.

"Yo Diana, I ain't know you were gon' be here" You smiled and gave her a side hug.

Davis, on the other hand, was staring at her like a lovesick puppy.

"Yeah I was just walking by and I saw the two of you. Thought I'd stop and say hello...hey Davis" Diana smiled at Davis.

"H-Hey Diana" Davis nervously waved back.

You and Jenna smirked at each other while watching. Davis is a nervous mess in front of Diana.

"Oh Jenna, this is Diana, Diana this is Jenna. The three of us went to school together along with her twin sister Stacey" You said.

At the mention of the name Stacey, jealousy flushed through her as she remembered the night of the Met Gala. The beautiful girl that was attached to your hip like glue all night, posting you any chance she got.

"How is Stacey?" You asked.

"Good. She went back to Spelman last week but she'll be back for summer break" Diana told you. You nodded, took a sip of your water, and sat in front of Jenna.

"Word? I ain't know she got into Spelman. What is she going for?" You asked.

"Major in Music and minor in Theatre & Performance. Same as me just at a different school" Diana answered.

Unconsciously, you leaned back in between Jenna's legs. She placed her head on top of yours and her arms on your shoulders.

Diana smirked, "Y'all are cute together."

"I'm cute all the time" You playfully said.

"Mhmm I don't know about that. You have your moments" Jenna commented.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa you gon' do me like that babe. That's wild" You exclaimed.

"All I said was you have your moments. We got our moments too" Jenna defended playfully. Diana let out a giggle at the two of you.

"Speaking of cute, you should holla at Davis. Don't think I don't see the way you keep glancing over at him" You smirk.

"Uh...I don't know. I just got out of a relationship, a bad one at that. I don't think I'm ready for another one just yet" Diana vacillated.

"You don't have to jump into another relationship. I'm just saying to you know talk to him and become friends. But if you don't wanna do it, that's fine I'm not gonna force you or anything" You said.

Diana glanced at Davis again who looked up this time from his bag and smiled at her. She looked down to hide the blush that appeared on her cheeks. She then went into her purse and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. She wrote her number and walked down the bleaches.

"I have to go but call me whenever you aren't busy" Diana smiled at him and placed the paper in his hands. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking off the court.

"I'm the best wingwoman ever aren't I" You smiled.

"Uh I've seen better" Jenna shrugged.

You suck your teeth as she laughed, "You a hater bruh."

🤰🏻🩵

"Tap, tap, and then we lock our middle fingers. End it off with a fist bump and touch thumbs" You explain to Jenna and demonstrate the handshake you guys just came up with. The two of you came back from the basketball courts and went back to Jenna's hotel room so the actress could finish packing.

"I don't want to leave" Jenna pouted as the both of you sat on the floor against her bed. It was getting closer to the time for Jenna to leave for the airport and she was having a hard time. The both of you were really, you just kept to yourself.

"You could always call me you know. No matter the time, I'll always pick up for you" You said sincerely. 

Truth be told, it was nice to finally have someone around. Someone new.

“You'll pick up at any time?" Jenna questioned amused.

"Yep. I'm an insomniac so 9 times out of ten I'll be up doing absolutely nothing productive" You chuckled. 

Jenna giggled, "I'm going hold you to that."

The two of them sat in a comfortable silence looking out at the sun setting sky. Neither of you uttered a word but your eyes slowly drifted to the woman next to you. The orange color bounced off her skin beautifully, making her freckles pop even more than before. You've seen your fair share of beautiful women but nothing compared to her. 

"Take a picture it'll last longer" Jenna spoke softly. 

You pulled your phone and quickly captured a picture of the actress. 

Jenna chuckled, "No way, you actually took a picture."

"You told me too. Now, I have an exclusive picture of Jenna Ortega. Should I sell it to these paparazzi weirdos?" You joked. 

"Do it. I bet you'll make a fortune" Jenna replied.

Suddenly, a ding is heard from Jenna's phone. She grabbed it from the nightstand and sighed as she looked at the person who texted her.

Nancy The Manager: we're outside

Jenna pouted as she read the message. She was hoping she got at least another hour with you but the universe didn't want to lift her spirits.

"They're here" Jenna grumbled.

You stood up from the floor and slipped on your slides. You grabbed her bags and Jenna got her airport outfit on. She checked to make sure she had everything before the two of you walked to the elevator.

After the elevator takes you to the hotel parking garage, you help place her bags in the trunk before you turn to her.

"I'm going to miss you" Jenna sniffled.

"Imma miss you too Hollywood" You pouted. The two of you hug each other tightly, not wanting to let go. But before she left, you bent down to be level with her small protruding stomach.

"Aight listen, it's just gon' be you and momma for a couple of months. You two take care of each other, if she is overworking herself, you better tell her to sit her ass down somewhere" You added, "Mama loves you and I'll be waiting here for the both of you to come back." You kiss her stomach and stand up.

"Why would you do that? Now I'm crying" Jenna cried and tried to wipe the tears from her eyes.

You chuckled, "I just to let it be known."

Jenna wiped the tears from her face and climbed into the SUV.

"Call or text whenever you land," You said.

"I will" Jenna reassured.

You then step back from the SUV. Big L climbs into the driver's side and after a moment pulls off. Jenna blew you a kiss which you caught and you waited until you couldn't see them anymore to walk to your car and eventually left the hotel.

The journey to the airport was a quiet one. Jenna was scrolling through her social media, which is rare for the girl. Music was blasting in her ears as she didn't want to engage with anyone, especially Hudson. She was still furious with the male after the stunt he pulled with her family. She didn't even spare him a glance as she got into the SUV, which stung him a little.

After almost an hour, Jenna finally arrived at Teterboro Airport. She was flying private this time and she didn't know why but she was secretly thankful that she didn't have to deal with the regular airport this time.

Everyone checked in and was walking to the private jet. It was small and nothing too extravagant which she liked. She just wanted to get from point A to point B safely.

The young actress was the first to step onto the plane but halted in her steps as she came face to face with someone she didn't want to see.

"Ah, nice to see you again Jenna. It's been a long time" Corneilo smiled at the girl.

Jenna looked behind her at Nancy and Hudson and saw the same shocked look on their faces.

"Please settle down and let's prepare for take-off," Neil said and pointed to the seat in front of him.

Jenna hesitated before slowly sitting in the seat in front of him, "You usually don't do in-person meetings."

"Yeah, but we have much to discuss. Things that couldn't be said over a video chat" Neil shrugged.

Nancy and Hudson hurriedly took a seat behind the two. Jenna was on edge, she was tense in her seat and she wanted nothing more than to be in your comfort again.

"Champagne?" Neil offered.

"No I'm good" Jenna declined.

The Cuban man nodded and down his glass of champagne before pouring himself another.

"What do we have to discuss?" Jenna asked impatiently.

Neil grinned, "I'm sure you know Jenna."

Jenna unconsciously hooked her arms around her stomach. She knew the man in front of her was unpredictable, she needed to be on guard the whole time.

"Do you remember why the court signed that paper Jenna?" Neil questioned.

"Because they wanted to keep the tradition going of a man ruling over a woman's life" Jenna retorted.

Neil let out a breathy laugh, "No...it's because you're reckless. That paper was designed to save you. Save you from the destructive road you were speeding down. The same road you found yourself back on."

Jenna didn't respond to him, just glared at him.

"20 years old and pregnant with a child by a talentless rat from the hood at the top of her career. Do you know how that makes me look? That I can't keep my clients in check because they do whatever they want to" Neil hissed.

"I care less about how it makes you look" Jenna snapped at the older man.

This makes Neil snap, at the speed of lighting he reaches over the table and grabs Jenna by her throat. Jenna tried to pull his hand away from her but was unsuccessful.

"You seem to forget who's in charge here. I'm the one in charge. I have the final say in what you can and cannot do, and who you can and cannot be with. I own you, Jenna. So when I tell you to jump, you ask how high. No sassy comeback, no attitude. Nothing." Neil snarled.

“Let her go Neil” Hudson glared at the older boy.

Neil’s eyes then snapped to Hudson. He let go of Jenna who was breathing heavily with tears running down her face. The older male then made his way to Hudson. He stopped just a breath away from him.

“Little Hudson Maverick, rich daddy’s boy that doesn’t know when to mind his business. A flaw of his that’s going to get him into some trouble in the future. How is mommy doing by the way? She still seeing that private exercise trainer on Thursdays and Saturdays during your father’s meetings?” Neil taunted the boy.

Nancy stood up from her seat, “That’s enough Corneilo.”

Neil then turned to look at the woman with a smirk on his face. He opens his mouth to say something but an alarm goes off on his watch.

“Hmph, dodge a bullet there Nancy” Neil commented. He smoothed out his suit and looked at them with a smile, "Enjoy the flight." He then left the private jet.

Once he left, Nancy slid next to Jenna. The young actress then gripped her shirt as she sobbed into her side.

a/n: y’all going to hate me…and possibly not hate me a little bit after 🙂

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23 @cinffy23 @darklron @cheesybacon1 @octavias-next-meat-bite @playboysaleen @niqmandu @zaclewiss @yescruzzzzzzz @silentfor @gemz5 @alwaysdangerouschild @onceblinkarmyandmore @melonfruit442 @zataracloud @nepobaby08 @jennasslut @rimaybank @jaewu @j3nc0re

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 30: SOCIAL MEDIA

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility

Cillian and Nina walked into Cillian's apartment and plopped down on the sofa, exhausted from a long day. Nina absentmindedly scrolled through Instagram, her eyes widening at the sight of countless pictures you were tagged in from the theatre.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Cillian leaned over his daughter's shoulder to get a glimpse of what had caught her attention. His eyes widened as he saw the stunning images of you, showcasing your incredible talent on stage.

Cillian, never one for social media, thought for a moment before transforming into a wine connoisseur. He poured himself a glass and decided that perhaps, just this once, he could dip his toes into the digital world.

Cillian, not being so savvy in the world of social media, found himself intrigued by this unconventional way of peeping into people's lives and, with his newfound curiosity, he glanced at Nina, offering her a crooked grin.

"You know what? I think it's about time I joined the world of Instagram too. I mean, how hard can it be?" Cillian said, only half-serious.

Nina let out a hearty laugh, grabbing her phone. "Dad, I hate to break it to you, but I think they might have put an 'age restriction' on Instagram. You're probably breaking some kind of internet law just by thinking of signing up."

Determined not to be thwarted by his daughter's teasing, Cillian pushed forward. "I am young at heart, you know that. Besides, I want to see what all the fuss is about with this social media thing,” Cillian laughed.

"All right, Dad. Let's see if the world is ready for Cillian Murphy on Instagram then,” she giggled before warning him. “But don’t you dare follow me! Your request will be denied!” she told him, causing Cillian to furrow his eyebrows.

“Follow? What do you mean by that?” he asked obliviously just before Nina left the living room to retrieve her laptop from her bedroom while Cillian poured himself another glass of wine. Nothing like some liquid courage to tackle the world of social media.

As Nina set up his profile, Cillian couldn't help but start feeling a little giddy, thinking that he was doing something naughty while, deep down inside, reflecting on his feelings. He missed you. He missed your laughter, your touch, and the way you made his heart race.

A familiar ache settled in his chest as he thought about the reasons you two broke up. The age difference seemed significant at the time, but now, he couldn't deny his lingering love for you.

“All done. Just waiting for your verification because you are a celebrity after all,” Nina teased but Cillian had no idea what she was on about and reached for his mobile phone, which is where Nina had downloaded an app and signed him in.

“I have taken a photo of you from the Internet. Needless to say, there were plenty of them,” she joked before, eventually, explaining to her father how Instagram actually worked.

Then, after Nina finished setting up Cillian's profile and retreated to her room, Cillian held his phone, contemplating whether he should follow your Instagram account. His finger hovered over the "Follow" button, hesitating.

"To hell with it," Cillian then muttered to himself, clicking the button and grinning like a teenager who had just pulled off a secret prank.

***

Meanwhile, at a lively bar, you were enjoying a night out with your friends following your grand performance, laughing and sipping on colourful cocktails.

That's when it happened. A notification popped up on your phone—Cillian Murphy is now following you on Instagram.

You nearly choked on your drink. Was this some sort of prank, you wondered and, just as you became somewhat flustered by what you believed to be a joke, one of your new acquaintances at the academy tapped you on the shoulder as she too was reading your feed.

"Oh my god Y/N, Cillian Murphy actually commented on your post!" she exclaimed, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Wait, what?” you asked before scrolling through the feed yourself and seeing that, not only had someone using Cillian’s name followed you, but also had this person left a comment, congratulating you on your performance.

“I doubt that’s real” another one of the dancers then said, pointing to the fact that the profile was not yet verified and, of course, you too were sceptical.

Thus, given Cillian's aversion to social media, you brushed off your friend’s excitement and told them to ignore this person who, clearly, was not Cillian Murphy. You were thinking that this was nothing more than a prank. But curiosity got the better of you anyway, and you decided to investigate.

Taking a leap of faith, you pulled out your phone and, with a mix of apprehension and hope, sent a message to the number you still had stored from your dating days.

"Cillian, is that really you commenting on my Instagram post or is someone playing a prank on me?" you typed, your words filled with both curiosity and hope. Hesitating for a moment, you pressed the 'send' button, watching as your message disappeared into the digital realm.

***

Back in Cillian's apartment, his phone buzzed, signalling a new message. His heart raced as he unlocked his phone and read the familiar name lighting up the screen.

Eyes widening, Cillian let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "It's her," he whispered, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Slowly, he began to type a reply, his fingers gliding across the screen. "It's me. You were great" he texted, his heart pounding in his chest and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of disbelief and excitement coursing through your veins when you received his message.

You quickly texted back, "Well, colour me surprised! Didn't think you'd ever join the 21st century and get on social media!"

As you awaited his response, you took a sip of your cocktail and looked around the bar. Your friends were chatting animatedly, unknowing of the conversation happening on your phone.

A few seconds later, Cillian's reply popped up. "Well, I figured it was time to embrace the modern world, even if I'm still firmly rooted in the past," he teased. You laughed and typed back, "Ah, the classic case of a technologically-challenged heartthrob!"

You couldn't help but enjoy the playful banter with him despite everything that happened between you in the past. You were rather drunk though too and it felt like old times yet fresh and exciting at the same time. It reminded you of the chemistry you had when you first met.

“Pretty much You know it” Cillian texted before another message popped up.” So, what are you up to tonight? Celebrating your big opening?" it asked.

"I am just shaking a leg at a local bar with some friends. What are you doing?" you replied, adding a winking emoji to indicate your mischievous tone, knowing very well that Cillian hated emojis.

“Watching TV, texting with you, drinking wine, pretending to be a cool dad. Not much really” Cillian replied, adding an emoji of a smiling face and sunglasses.

“You know how to use emojis? God, what happened to you?” you responded, rolling your eyes as both of you continued to exchange messages, sharing funny anecdotes from your respective evenings. The conversation flowed effortlessly, reminding you of the easy banter you used to have.

With each new text, you felt a strange mix of nostalgia and longing. It had been almost three months since you and Cillian had broken up, but there was still a lingering connection between you and then, out of the blue, Cillian's next message caught you off guard. "I miss you," it read. Simple and straightforward.

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. The wound was still fresh, and you were afraid of opening it up again.

"Well, that's what happens when you break up with someone," you teasingly replied, trying to keep the conversation light, but Cillian did not let up.

“I regret breaking up with you," Cillian continued, causing you to almost choke on your drink.

This wasn't how you expected the conversation to go. But then again, nothing with Cillian ever went according to plan.

Taking a deep breath, you took the plunge and typed, "Listen Cillian, I admit that I miss you too. But you hurt me and this made things complicated. We can't just pick up where we left off."

The three dots appeared, indicating that Cillian was typing a reply. You held your breath, waiting for his words to materialize on the screen as the bar around you faded into the background.

"I understand," his message finally appeared. "But could we try? Just one date? Let's see where it takes us?” he then asked and you hesitated, uncertainty swirling within you. A part of you longed to reunite with Cillian, to see if there was still something worth salvaging. But another part feared getting hurt again, fearing that the age difference would always be a roadblock.

"All right, one date!" you finally replied, a mix of reluctance and hope in your response.

“Dinner tomorrow night?” he typed quickly, making your heart skip another beat.

“Dinner it is. But no promises about dessert!" you joked, lightening the mood again with your reply.

A beaming smile broke across Cillian's face as he read your response. It was a smile that could melt hearts, that could singlehandedly revive the 90s boy band craze. You almost regretted saying yes, but alas, the damage was done.

[beneathcandycoatedclouds]

Thoughts on the source of the Regret demon in the rotunda in the short story Callback;

I have seen some posts circulating this app about the regret demon in Tevinter Nights’ Callback and if it is the regret of the inquisitor, Solas, or combined, and had to bring up my favorite thing in the story: Regret’s dialogue is in Solas cadence (Hallelujah!)

Furthermore, other than some of the obvious lines like “I am the regret of a god!” I do think there are some interesting parts of Callback that point to the specific regret and choice that the demon was formed from. Obviously, the demon takes form from the Solas’ paintings/frescoes of the inquisitor’s choices and story in Inquisition that Solas witnesses. However, there are some other interesting hints. Firstly, while the signs point mostly to this being the regret of Solas, there are some hints to some of the Inquisitor’s regret as well.

Throughout Inquisition, the Inquisitor and their might is often compared to that of a dragon. Solas is the dread wolf. In Callback, the form of the creature is described as follows; “It snarled a toothy growl, a sound that - like its shape - was somehow between wolf and dragon” (Pg 122). This could serve two purposes; as a connection to the specific guilt that Solas has regarding the inquisitor, whether that is how he sort of used them while they are in possession of the anchor, the betrayal when he leaves, the lies he told that he was simply an apostate, etc. It could also be regret regarding his relationship with them.

However, the Inquisitor is not the only one to have dragon imagery. The elvhen goddess Mythal is also compared to a dragon; "Mythal is often depicted as a dragon or a female humanoid figure with dragon head and wings. Some scholars have speculated that the constellation Silentir, which is depicted as either a dragon in flight or a man carrying a horn and wand, may have originally been a representation of Mythal" (Link). Beyond this, Mythal's known host is Flemeth, who has the ability to turn into a dragon, likely from her connection to Mythal.

The description of the wound that the demon suffers from Sunderland follows the description of the creature. While the wound was just created, it feels too intentional after a description of the demon’s form. “The wound in its chest remained, but it filled and discolored with new material” (122). My personal take on this is the heartbreak from the regret that Solas suffered, whether the inquisitor romanced him or not, and the possibility of the heartbreak of Mythal's murder in ancient times being repeated through Inquisition. More importantly, it symbolizes dealing with heartbreak through other means - not really healing or recovering from it, but filling it with something else to abandon the feeling rather than own/accept it. Regret seems to agree based on what follows.

We later get a glimpse into Regret’s experience and how it thinks about Solas’ regret compared to the fight in the short story. “Regret expected resistance. It had never been accepted. Never owned” (133). This tells us that even after years, the regret over the choice Solas made was never really fully processed by him. This is equally heartbreaking considering the likelyhood that this is a repeated heartbreak, first with Mythal and later with the Inquisitor, romanced or no.

However, the story ends on a hopeful note regarding this regret; in two specific places, firstly; “For a moment, the sunlight illuminated something within - a sliver of the spirit that might have been. Not the opposite of regret. A different flavor, or shade. Contemplation. Introspection. It felt the echo of the actions that had summoned it” (135-136).

This could mean several things. One of which, that Solas’ inner conflict about the “realness” of the people he was working with was so potent that it attracted a spirit from the fade of contemplation or introspection. At multiple points, romanced inquisitor or not, Solas must come to terms with the Inquisitor’s inner circle being made up of real people. He forms relationships with everyone the inquisitor travels with. Varric and Solas are fast friends, and Varric makes him question his beliefs constantly, with Solas admitting he hadn’t thought about things a certain way or that he was just wrong before Varric explained a different way to look at the world and it’s people. Iron Bull and Solas’ relationship begins as hostile, with Solas pushing Bull and prodding him about the Qun at every opportunity, so blinded by his paladin-esque beliefs in freedom and choice to realize that Bull barely follows the Qun or lives like other Qunari. This challenges Solas greatly, and Solas has to really face this if he is brought on Bull’s personal quest with the Qunari dreadnaught;

Gatt: I don't see any tattoos, but you're carrying a staff. Are you from a Chantry Circle? Solas: No. And I would prefer not to discuss it. Gatt: Have I done something to offend you? Solas: You joined the Qun. Gatt: After they rescued me from slavery. Solas: And put you into something worse. Solas: A slave may always struggle for freedom, but you among the Qun have been taught not to think. Iron Bull: Solas, not the time.

To Solas’ conversations with Bull after the quest, if you side against the Qunari;

Solas: You are not Tal-Vashoth, Iron Bull, not really. Iron Bull: Well that's a fuckin' relief. Solas: (If the Inquisitor is Qunari) No more than our Inquisitor, whose parents left the Qun before s/he was born. Solas: You are no beast, snapping under the stress of the Qun's harsh discipline. Solas: You are a man who made a choice... possibly the first of your life. Iron Bull: I've always liked fighting. What if I turn savage, like the other Tal-Vashoth? Solas: You have the Inquisition, you have the Inquisitor... and you have me. Iron Bull: Thanks, Solas.

Solas and Iron Bull are just two examples of friends Solas makes during his time with the Inquisition that challenge his beliefs on how “real” they are. Any time spent in the rotunda at Skyhold watching Solas proves that he is just as deep in thought, pacing and pondering and thinking in his idle animations more than the other companions. There is an anxiety to it, as though everything he believes is being challenged. This all being said, either his introspection/contemplation was so tangible that it summoned a spirt of introspection or contemplation (spirits we have not, to my knowledge, heard of yet) OR, as the theory that Solas and the elvhen people are actually spirits in physical form has gained traction, he could be that very spirit of introspection or contemplation, and left behind a piece of him. We know that there isn’t much to go off of when it comes to spirits taking a physical form because, to our knowledge, the only time that has happened or even could is IF Cole decides to got the more human route. Solas either does not know how Cole came to have a physical form or does not reveal it, so as far as the Solas-is-a-spirit theory goes, we know that process and all it would entail would be complicated to say the least.

The idea of Solas leaving a piece of him behind is only strengthened by the knowledge that the Regret demon was not a spirit’s opposite. Every demon shown before has been a spirit twisted into its opposite. The theory further strengthens when we examine the other hopeful note at the end of the story; “[The demon] glimpsed the spirit realm beyond the Veil, and a faraway glimmer. Familiar, and somehow far brighter than what had drawn it here. It knew where it would go” (136). I can’t find the post, but some have theorized that the spirit senses the lighthouse or Solas in the fade and knows where to return. The deep, tangible regret that was so strong a demon was created is a weaker force than this summons home to the fade - to its home.

All this being said, I believe the regret that Solas feels is over making the same decision for a second time. The first time Solas made a decision that impacted the world and humanity itself was when he decided to seal away the elven pantheon and the forgotten ones. This included Mythal, despite their close relationship. He betrayed his friends because their power got to great, they were corrupted, and he could no longer sit and watch as his friends oppressed his people.

Solas: What will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead? Inquisitor: (I'll rely on those I trust) I'm not arrogant enough to think that it's my decision alone. Whatever happens, we'll do it together. S: You think to share your power, to avoid the temptation to misuse it. A noble sentiment... But, ultimately, a mistake. I: Why? S: Because while one selfless [woman] may walk away from the lure of power's corruption... No group has ever done so. I: (What, never?) There's a first time for everything. S: Perhaps... But it will not be this time. I believe even you know that. I: Why is this so important to you? S: You have not been what I expected, Inquisitor. You have... impressed me. You must not let false modesty allow you to pass your power to someone else. There are few regrets sharper than watching fools squander what you sacrificed to achieve.

Alternatively;

Solas: Because while one selfless [woman] may walk away from the lure of power's corruption... No group has ever done so. Inquisitor: I trust my friends. Solas: I know that mistake well enough to carve the angles of her face from memory.

Solas is faced with a decision: to watch the Inquisition, after defeating Corypheus, either become exactly what the elvhen gods became, or risk the chance that they might be better. As Solas points out in the first instance, however, even the Inquisitor knows that corruption is inevitable. They first saw this in Haven, when Leliana told her spies to kill a friend of hers who had turned. Even early on in the Inquisition, corruption was always likely. As the Inquisition gains more power and it is easier to displace kings and queens and eliminate threats with the wave of a hand, what realistically will happen? Worse, is Solas really just to sit there and watch, or will he leave the Inquisition and work to make the world better? (As a side note, this is where we look at Trick Weekes' words on this exact thing in this post about "gracefully accepting things as they are". It would be absolutely out of character for Solas to trust that maybe this time power will not be abused.) Does he wait for the corruption to spread to his friends, who one day could turn on his beloved Inquisitor as the elvhen gods turned on Mythal?

Mythal's fellow elven gods killed her in their lust for power. This act was the final straw that led the Dread Wolf to banish them. However, the first of his people do not die so easily. (Link)

As for the mistake of trusting in his friends - "I know that mistake well enough to carve the angles of her face from memory." I believe that this refers to his relationship with Mythal. From the statue of Fen'Harel in the temple of Mythal to the imagery of the dragon and the wolf, to the sweetness that Solas shows Flameth/Mythal when they meet at the end of Inquisition, their relationship as at least friends is all but certain.

Mythal's Well of Sorrows knows the secret greeting from those Fen'Harel trusted, which suggests that Fen'Harel and Mythal were close. (Link)

As for the specific betrayal, I tend to err on the side of caution regarding Mythal still. Mythal still branded elves, still had slaves. Was this the betrayal that Solas can carve from memory? Does he worry that one day the inquisitor will fall to this as well? Or does it simply refer to Mythal's murder by the other gods?

After all this, however, it still leads us to wonder what the "better choice" the regret demon, restored to a contemplation/introspection spirit, thinks might have been a better choice. It is likely that it is just contemplating, as it's nature, on the vague idea that there was something better. This is what I lean towards, but the wishful thinking part of me hopes that his "better choice" would be trusting the Inquisitor with his true identity and that they could come to see why his mission is important, as there is an opportunity to beg for that in Trespasser when you meet him. While a group of friends might become corrupted, Mythal might not have been, and maybe rather than working towards his plan alone without her she might have lived. Maybe this is yet another thing that is history repeating itself - leaving the Inquisitor rather than trusting that they could work together to make the world better.

[abiiors]

Can we get some sick Matty fluff? Coming from a gal fighting a sinus infraction rn 😢

A sinus infection sounds horrible :( I hope you feel better soon x

Also here you go, I hope you like it! There’s some nudity in this one but it’s absolutely non-sexual.

If you want a swapped version of this, go here!

Sick Day

A string of sneezes echoes around the house followed by a wet cough. 

You wince at how bad he sounds today. Despite the check-up he’s had yesterday, his cough only sounds worse. You try to hurry up in the kitchen, beg the soup to finish cooking as soon as possible. When it takes too much time, you put the flame on a low heat and make your way to your shared bedroom. 

You can see a mop of curly hair peeking out from under three different blankets. Even when he’s so bundled up, you can see a shiver wrack his body every now and then.

He’s not allowed to speak, he’s not allowed to sing and he has no strength to get out of bed. In short, what you have on your hands today is a big, irritable baby. You try to caress his cheek but his face only scrunches up in pain at even the smallest of touches. That’s how you know that the congestion is terrible. 

When he feels the bed dip under your weight, he turns around with great effort and buries his face in your lap. His eyes are red-rimmed and the bags under them are so pronounced—it breaks your heart to see him like this. But there’s only so much you can do for him apart from sitting with him and stroking his hair.

‘Have you taken your medicine, love?’ you ask as you continue to stroke his head. It’s warm, so much warmer than it normally is that you mentally try to remember the last time you checked his temperature.

He opens the Notes App on his phone with some difficulty and starts typing.

I don’t think I can swallow anything :( 

‘Matty…’ you scold gently but only because you’re worried about him. ‘Baby, you need to take them.’

Another :( is his only response. 

‘How about I bring you some soup, yeah? That might ease up your throat?’

He contemplates that for a bit and then barely nods his head. It takes another two minutes for him to actually get his head off your lap but you let him be as clingy as he wants to. 

You waste no time getting back to the kitchen and bringing him a bowl of steaming soup. Getting him to sit up, however, proves to be a bit of a herculean task. He tries not to put all his weight on you but you end up having to prop him up against the pillows anyway. He holds up his phone and frowns.

I feel like an invalid.  

A small laugh escapes you at that. He’s managed to make you laugh even when he feels like death warmed up and he clearly looks proud about it. 

‘Come on now,’ you hand him the bowl, ‘or should we pretend it’s an airplane?’

He rolls his eyes but ends up cracking a smile anyway. He even manages to finish the entire bowl of soup. But then his mood sours again when you hold up the two round pills in front of him. 

‘Don’t make this into a battle of wills. You know I’ll win,’ you quickly warm him just as he’s in the middle of making a face. But in the end, he obliges. 

The muscles of his throat move, trying to reject the pill but he swallows again and gulps down some more water. Then he picks up his phone again. 

Will you stay?

‘Of course, I will,’ you say. In fact, you’re already getting comfy in the bed and pulling his head on your lap. 

He cracks a small smile when he feels your fingers running through his hair and then mouths a “thank you”. A combination of the medicine and his exhaustion—it doesn’t take long before his breathing evens out.

Sometime in the second hour of his nap, he begins to kick off the blankets one by one. You run over a hand over his forehead, his cheek and notice that the collar of his jumper is slowly turning damp with sweat. 

‘Matty,’ you shake him as gently as possible. ‘You need to wake up, love. I think your fever is breaking.’

He groans a bit but then cracks an eye open. 

‘Do you think you can take a bath?’ 

Only if you can take one with me,

he types out. Despite the illness, you like this clingy version of him, how he wants you to be there for every little thing he does. 

***

He sways a bit at first but manages to hold himself upright while you get him out of his clothes. The bath is almost full by now—you’ve made sure to add some oils in there too and now your entire bathroom smells like peppermint and eucalyptus. 

The bath is big enough for the two of you but when you get in after him, he instantly scoots closer; closes his eyes as you lather shampoo on his scalp. His face is still paler than usual but he looks much more alert now. Much less ready to keel over. 

The water will go cold in a bit, you know it will. For now, you just let him indulge as much as he wants to.

[glitch-pep]

Under the cut is a massive ramble that I NEED to get out of my system, because a lot has changed in the last two months or so-

Also the oc stuff on my blog has been looking like this and it's been bugging me to no end so I wanna explain some stuff below- 💀

#1

After 4-5 years of drawing on my phone with my finger, I spent my savings on a drawing tablet. It's been a giant wish of mine to have one for ages, but I never really worked up the courage to do it since it's a big financial decision and I always feel guilty about spending money... but, after months of intense contemplating I did it!

Buuut I did have a few mental breakdowns once it arrived... long story short, turns out that you can't connect a HP PC with the tablet using the USB-c cable that you get with the tablet, because the USB-c port of the PC doesn't support an additional screen display.

I did look up if you can connect them beforehand, and the internet told me that the answer is yes. You can't trust anything these days bro- 💀💀💀

After A LOT of back and forth and me trying to return the tablet because I can't use it without it being connected to the PC, they told me that I can't return it. Than after EVEN MORE back and forth, we found out that it would work with a completely different cable that I had to order seperately. I had just about enough money left for it, so I ordered it, and then it was peace and love on planet earth because it finally works now.

#2

Also, I needed a free drawing programm I could use, but problem was that my old app, Sketch Draw And Paint, has the most simple layout and functions it can have, so I was used to simplicity.

When I tested out GIMP, Krita, Inkspace and FireAlpaca, I could not wrap my head around how they worked and my lazy ass didn't feel like watching a bunch of tutorials... I was like bro let's find one that I can figure out on my own, it can't be that complicated. 💀

Everyone thank MediBang Paint for being simple enough for me to understand... if MediBang Paint has 0 fans I'm dead fr. From now on, all of my art will be drawn in MediBang Paint and on the tablet.

Is my art any better? Idk but I'm having fun so far, experimenting with stuff, slowly getting towards actually getting some oc stuff done...

...and, speaking of oc stuff...

#3

...I'm going to explain what I plan to work on in the future for each of my oc's, so, let's get started.

Mina - I'm not going to be making any more main character eene oc's, I only gotta design Mina's aunt and a different side character and add them to the characters in her lore and that's it. Mina's story is by far the most simple out of everyone. She'll just get 1 or 2 fics. This doesn't mean that I don't love her, trust me I've had some crazy ideas for her lore, but I've decided to keep it simple, because it makes sense given who Mina is.

Milo and CJ - For the sake of telling you my versions of Seasons 3 and 4 of mf, I have to slightly redesign each canon character from the main cast, figure out how to draw them and write some new lore for them, while using any info I found to characterize them somewhat properly.

I watched and overanalyzed the entirety of the webisodes and the alternative versions of them, as well as the Nickelodeon show, and I looked through the website and the wiki, all for the sake of writing down ANY piece of information I can get about the lore of this show and the characters, because I really needed to have something to work with.

I rearranged S1 a bit and put together a S2 with the webisodes. I'll talk about this eventually.

I won't be making any new main character oc's for this one, only background characters. I'm planning to write S3 and S4 in the form of fics.

Sunny and Molly - For this one I have to add a bunch of secondary and background characters, but we don't need those to begin the story, they'll be relevant later. I'm currently trying to piece together episodes and which goes where so that I can start writing it. I also gotta analyze the website a bit more, to get a feel of how to somewhat properly write the canon characters. I also have a seperate wh oc story idea in mind that I wanna get to eventually as well.

Charlie - I have to remake Charlie's intro, slightly redesign her, add 4 additional main characters, also secondary and background characters but those will be relevant later... Charlie shares her story with a bunch of other oc's. This one will definitely take me the longest, and it's the last thing on my waiting list, because I wanna tackle the easier ideas first. I do also have a seperate sm oc story in mind that I wanna get to as well.

Piper - I don't exactly know what I'm gonna do yet. I wanna see how tadc plays out, and then I'll work on setting some stuff in stone. I do have some ideas and concepts in mind, but I'm not sure in what direction I should go with it, depends upon how the story in the show will play out. (I probably won't wait for the whole show to be done, but at least 1-2 more eps would kinda help me understand where it's going.) I will work on some of the ideas tho.

As of now, I don't plan to make any new oc's for any other fandoms, mostly because I haven't gotten a good enough idea for anything yet, but also because I really wanna work towards polishing the oc's I already have.

I am setting stuff up so that I can start writing the fics. I have no idea how long this will take me, given that I got irl responsibilities to take care of too, but I'll try my best to get it done eventually.

And that's it. I hope you'll have a nice day! 💕

[eurydicees]

center by sir chloe ☝🏼☝🏼☝🏼

shoutout to when i asked for music recs in exchange for fics in september and then wrote, like, one of them. well. better late than never?

the heart of the matter is that i love you quietly

summary: in the car, after a confession, kuroo talks. kenma listens. everything is as it should be, except for how it's not. prompt: music recs, center (sir chloe) pairings: "it's complicated/situationship" tetsurou kuroo/kenma kozume words: 2031 warnings: none

In Kenma’s head, they’re on the train together, making their way home from evening practice. They’re pressed close together on the seat, their thighs just brushing and knees knocking together every now and then with the unpredictable motion of the train. 

Kuroo is on his phone, texting or scrolling through some social media app Kenma hasn’t checked in months. Kenma is on his PSP, playing a game, maybe one he's already completed but found himself yearning for a replay and a chance to try out a new route. 

In Kenma’s head, they are eternally comfortable with each other and Kuroo never said what he did and nothing ever changed. 

But the truth is that they’re stuck in the never-ending Tokyo traffic on a road that doesn’t seem to ever turn or smoothen out and Kuroo is humming softly along to the music and—by all means, this should be fine. Except there’s a tension in the air that hasn’t been there in years—not since the first time Kuroo said it—and maybe Kenma is the only one who notices it, but it’s there nonetheless. 

Kuroo says, “There must be an accident up ahead,” and Kenma just nods. Kuroo continues, “Well, according to the GPS, we’ll be back in less than two hours, at least,” and Kenma offers a bare hum of acknowledgement. 

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Kuroo observes. 

Kenma shrugs, turning to look out of the window. It’s dark, much later at night than he really would have liked to be out, and he can’t see much in the way of scenery. There’s just headlights and a glint of his own reflection. He looks tired, even to himself. 

“I’m always quiet,” he says, eventually. 

Kuroo snorts. “Not like this. There are different kinds of quiet. This is your overthinking and anxious quiet, not your contemplative or bored or analytical quiet.” 

“I thought I was supposed to be the observant one,” Kenma mutters. “I’m fine, Kuroo.” 

“I’m allowed to steal your tricks once in a while.” Kuroo quiets for a moment while the car inches just a little further forward. Then, “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? What I said earlier.” 

Kenma swallows, shrugging noncommittally. Kuroo doesn’t say anything, though if that’s because he’s waiting for Kenma to speak or because he doesn’t have words of his own, Kenma doesn’t know. 

Finally, Kenma turns away from the window to glance at Kuroo, and then to the license plate in front of him. “How can I not think about it?” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Kuroo says, subdued and dulled. “Or it doesn’t have to be. I told you not to worry about it. It’s my problem to worry about, not yours.” 

Kenma can feel his heart flinch at those words. “Then why even bother telling me?” 

Kuroo’s hands tighten their grip around the steering wheel. If he weren’t driving, Kenma imagines his knee would be shaking: up, down, up, down. In his head, they’re going to forever be on that train, before the first time; and now, before the second time. 

They had gotten halfway through the train ride back to their neighborhood when Kenma felt Kuroo’s eyes weighing on him. And it’s not like that’s exactly abnormal, because Kuroo watches people in much the same way Kenma does, even if he’s able to play it off as friendly rather than analytical. But this gaze felt different. Kenma remembers pausing his game to look over at Kuroo and ask what he was looking at. 

In his head, he had not done this. But the memory goes differently than he would have liked it to. 

What happened, instead, is that rather than ignoring it, he looked over at the flush of Kuroo’s cheeks and the unsteady bouncing of his knee and the stiff, uncomfortable way he forced himself to sit straight up and look away from Kenma. What happened, instead, is that Kenma studied him just a little too long; and saw that it’s almost like Kuroo was scared of what he himself would see in Kenma, or, like he was scared that Kenma would keep seeing him. 

“Say it,” Kenma had told him. “What’s wrong?” 

Kuroo exhaled, a little shaky, but determined. No—resigned. “Lev told you, didn’t he?” 

Kenma swallowed. He looked away from Kuroo, and maybe that was answer enough, or maybe it’s not, because Kuroo forced himself to continue. 

“He told you I’m in love with you, right?”

And look, Lev might have said something during a water break only a few hours ago, sure, but Kenma already knew. He knew before Lev, he knew before that train ride that feels they never left. He knew back in middle school, when Kuroo had begun to grow more and more excited about his life at Nekoma but never once looked away from Kenma. He knew. 

But still, it’s different to hear it said out loud. It’s different for it to come from Kuroo himself. It’s different, Kenma knows, because hearing Kuroo say it, confess to him, hurts so much more than Kenma had ever imagined it would. 

In the end, he had said, “Yeah,” and Kuroo had given him a sharp nod, wordless but still saying so much, and that had been the end of that. Kuroo didn’t bring it back up again, and neither did Kenma. On top of that, Kuroo must have told someone who told someone who spread the word, because any teasing about the blurred lines of their friendship stopped by the next day. 

That should have been the end of it. Only here they are, two years later, and Kenma is once again thinking about what he was almost able to forget about after so much time and careful establishing of platonic boundaries; and after two years of Kenma pushing down and away all the thoughts and feelings and wantings of his own that are all so much easier to strangle than to say. 

In his head, Kuroo did not confess in high school and it didn’t change everything for months and months, until they settled into a new rhythm with Kuroo away at university. In his head, this first confession did not wake up anything so overwhelming inside of Kenma himself. 

And in Kenma’s head, Kuroo did not confess again, only an hour before the biggest game of his university career so far, when Kenma had come to watch and then to drive back home together for the weekend. He had not done it in an empty hallway between the court and the locker room. He had not pulled Kenma aside only a few minutes before the game’s start. 

Kuroo had not said, “Don’t freak out when I say this, okay?” and he had not said, breathless and anxious and, again, so resigned, “I’m in love with you and I think I always will be, and I don’t expect you to—I don’t expect—I just need you to know. I’m tired of keeping secrets from my best friend. And it can’t come from Lev or whoever again.” 

Then Kuroo had been pulled away to warmups, leaving Kenma with that stupid, soft, adoring smile. Leaving Kenma to stare after him in that deserted hallway. Leaving Kenma to his desperate wishing that those words had never been said aloud. 

“I don’t like keeping secrets from you,” Kuroo says, sitting in the driver’s seat of the car, staring out at the taillights on their drive back home, some darker, more practiced echo of what he had said under the fluorescents of the stadium hallway. Then he laughs, a little too self-deprecating for Kenma’s comfort. “It’s not like you didn’t already know, Kenma. We’re both well aware that you knew.” 

Kenma doesn’t say anything to that. He turns back to the window, squinting at the glass to see past his own reflection and into the spot in the road next to them. “That lane is moving faster. You should merge.” 

“It’s that kind of attitude that creates traffic,” Kuroo says, which Kenma isn’t totally sure is true, but for once he doesn’t feel like taking up an argument. 

It would be such an easy way out of the conversation—starting a mindless argument, that is—but Kenma doesn’t take it, despite everything in him wanting to avoid the actual subject at hand. He sighs, deep and steady. 

“Yeah,” he admits, more to himself than to Kuroo. “I knew.”

Kuroo seems to recognize immediately that they aren’t talking about traffic anymore. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps his gaze steady on the car head. Again, the silence is uncomfortable, strained, and Kenma hates it, hates what this confession has done to a decade of friendship, hates that Kuroo was brave enough to give such a confession—and, really, honestly what Kenma hates is that he himself still isn’t brave enough to listen to it. 

Because—because it’s not like Kenma doesn’t love him back. It’s just that Kenma is too scared to say it. 

Kuroo has been waiting for Kenma to hear him out for two years now. He’s probably willing to wait a lifetime for Kenma to be brave enough for the vulnerability that comes with sharing a heart with another person. Kuroo has always been patient, if it’s regarding Kenma. 

Kenma, meanwhile, has been waiting for Kuroo to give up or get discouraged or frustrated or angry or bitter for years, and it has yet to happen. But still, there’s always time for the other shoe to drop. One day, in his quest to uncover all that Kenma has kept hidden, he’ll bite down too hard and make bleed the hand that feeds him. 

“Kenma—” Kuroo stops. Takes a deep breath; lets the car roll forward another few feet. “I don’t expect you to love me back, whatever promises we made back in high school. A lifetime has passed since you said to give you time to think, you know? I don’t expect you to be in love with me—that’s not why I confessed.” 

Kenma swallows, another question or protest or something on his lips, but Kuroo shakes his head and Kenma shuts up. 

Kuroo finally turns away from the stillness of the traffic to look at Kenma. He’s smiling, even if it’s a little sad, when he says, “You don’t need to worry so much, Kenma, I promise. I’m never going to get tired of being your friend. Whatever you figure out about your own feelings, and however long you need, that’ll always be true.” 

“You deserve better than waiting for me,” Kenma says, feeling somewhat hollow as he says it, as he suggests that Kuroo find someone else to love. 

Kuroo snorts, turning back to the car ahead of them. “Do you listen to anything I say? It’s not waiting for anything. You’re my friend first and I’m never going to be tired of having that.” 

Kenma closes his eyes, tired of the taillights and the reflection of his own breaking heart. “Okay. If you say so.” 

Kuroo hums. There’s infinite understanding in the sound and Kenma isn’t sure that he deserves it, but Kuroo has always been the kind of person to give until he has nothing left and Kenma has always asked for infinity. 

“You don’t have to say it back,” Kuroo says tentatively, “but can I tell you I love you now? No expectations, just—it’s nice to say out loud.” 

Kenma’s heart is in his throat, a lump of coal which could maybe be a diamond if Kuroo keeps pushing and Kenma keeps letting him. “That’s okay.” 

“Okay,” Kuroo says, a real smile broadening over his face. “I love you.” 

Kenma bites down on his bottom lip. He thought that the weight of Kuroo’s I love you would be oppressive and stifling, but he finds that he’s biting back a pleased laugh rather than the urge to cower. “You’re so embarrassing.” 

Kuroo laughs. “I can live with that as long as we’re friends.” 

Kenma rolls his eyes, but—yeah. It’s definitely something happy he’s holding in at the center of his chest, at the molten core of his heart. Maybe one day soon, he’ll be brave enough to taste it on his tongue and let it fly free. “Sure, Kuro.” 

[bomberqueen17]

a true odyssey

ok well so. it's time to tell a long semi-pointless meandery story so buckle up. <3

mostly my job at the farm is to assist in the making of sausage, which happens two or three weeks every month, and when it happens it takes the whole week, y'dig, what with setup and cleanup and all that shit. but this is not a sausage week. this is the week between sausage and the next. and as it happens next week is the first chicken processing of the season, so like, a big deal. I've spent weeks slowly cleaning up the winter's mess in the slaughterhouse-- which is several rooms at the end of the barn, each of them cluttered with different types of detritus. I've spent hours washing things, putting things away, finding homes for things, tidying things, cleaning things, and my BIL has spent hours fixing broken things and helping me move heavy things that really need to not be where they are. It's looking pretty good in there.

But this week, now that the heavy lifting is mostly done, and most of the heavy cleaning is done, I've been mostly subsumed into bizarre odd jobs. Yesterday I learned how to use a woodchipper. I also did some light fence work, a stark contrast to the kind of fencing I learned in college. (Sabre and epee, then; now it's wire mesh and staples.)

And eggs; endless egg management. Mostly washing, and packing, and putting away, but some stock rotation too now and then.

This morning I was called away from my egg washing and prevailed upon to take a journey of about 40 minutes' drive each way, on a quest to obtain a new throttle cable for the New Holland tractor that VegMan needed for a task that had to be done as soon as possible and could not wait.

So the nearest New Holland dealership that stocks the part we needed is in Greenwich, NY. I haven't been there super often but it is exactly two towns over from where I grew up, so it's not exactly terra incognita. BIL gave me rough directions, and I immediately knew just what he meant. I put the address in my phone anyway, because I wouldn't know precisely where it was, but the bulk of the drive, I absolutely knew where everything was. So I left the directions in my phone and hit the road, and after about half an hour I'd passed through Schaghticoke and was headed north on 40 and was like "ok time to get Maps loaded" and tabbed over to the app and said take it away, my friend!

and it was like "make a right out of the farm driveway onto the main road" and like buddy i did that half an hour ago, please show me the current driving direction??? it would not do that. well, i don't need it to give me the turn by turn just show me where to go i guess, I thought, and then I looked and it was telling me to turn off Rte 40 and make a right, head east on the very next road.

The very next road was an unpaved road I happen to know meanders for a long distance before it ever connects with anything else. Doubt.jpg, I did not take the turn. I might mention, I grew up here, and I know fine fucking well where Greenwich is, and I had the utmost confidence that haring off into some unpaved Easton hinterland was not going to get me to the tractor dealership any faster than simply continuing on this very nice state highway. But it kept updating itself to show me turning right. Which I knew I did not need to do.

So I finally pulled over and tucked myself up in the DO NOT BLOCK DOORS DO NOT PARK HERE parking lot of the Easton volunteer fire department, and tried to restart Maps, which wasn't having any of it. I eventually had to hard-restart my whole phone.

And then it wouldn't come back up. It was just on the little loading thingy for ages, probably a minute and a half, but it was a long minute and a half, as those tend to be; with no other distractions, I stared bleakly at my seemingly-dead phone and had some contemplative thoughts.

I'm from here, is the thing. Like, if my phone won't come back up, I've come too far to turn back in defeat. I can't go home without the throttle cable. I can only go on. But I don't know how to get there. I don't think there's anywhere I can easily run in and ask someone for directions. (If there was a Stewarts I absolutely would but I knew there wasn't.)

But like. I cannot be lost this close to my fucking hometown. Route 40 is the street I learned how to shift into fifth gear on. Route 40 is the way I drove to school. I cannot get lost on Route 40.

Finally my phone came back on and I was like ok thank fucking god where the hell is capital tractor and it was like yo dummy you just drive up rte 40 for seven more miles and then make a right why are you being so weird about this

thanks bud. anyway, i clipped it back in its holder and got myself back on the highway

and about 20 feet later i almost hit a bald eagle that was swooping low over the road with something in its talons

so like i don't do augury so idk what that meant but i did make it and i did get that throttle cable and then i did make it back safely to the farm so who even knows

anyway your reward for reading is this photo I took of some lilacs at my mother's house:

[image description: some blooming lilacs, pale purple]

[karimwillia]

Part 2

Warnings: Fluff

Riri makes it to class and with no issue it’s time for lunch. Her and MJ walk past the huge portrait of Shuri that hangs in the foyer of the school. The banner always showcases the student of the year. “Ri so spill I was hearing the rumbles about what happened in Doc Stevens today.”

Riri turns auburn red. “Ugh why is this place so huge but rumors spread like the population is 2. We got assigned new lab partners. No biggie.” Riri tries to play off her fluster. “Girl you are a terrible liar. I know you got paired with Shuri!! Omg! I know you died.” Riri was getting hot now.

She reached and grabbed MJ. “Shhh no not really but what could have killed me is she was flirty today.” Pausing a moment, MJ was stunned. “Girl Shut Up! Flirty how!?! I knew y’all was kinda cool but not like that.” Ri breathes and calms down.

“Ok you know I’m not the best at social stuff but she spoke to me when we stood up. Just saying how it’s been a while and that she missed me. Then she said we have to talk outside of school more so she locked her number in my phone.”

MJ screams laughing. “Yo she was hard body flirting. Omg! Friend, what if she likes you?” Riri twists her face. Sure she can think that during the moment but Shuri is a naturally flirty person. Riri has seen it 1000 times. She winks and smiles and calls all “cute girls” sweethearts. It’s her thing but for them it was new.

“Michelle Jordan I am the last person she is interested in. I’m not like these other girls she has been with. I’m not the tall model type. She’s nice to me because we are school friends.

MJ’s face falls to a frown from a goofy wide smile. “Ri do you know you are beautiful and I’m sure Shuri sees that. Plus that is not the same as how she flirts with others.” Riri is so red now as she thinks it over. “Ugh help MJ how am I supposed to do this? My brain hurts, and you know how I get anxious.” MJ stops her right there. “No I’m not accepting that! You talk to her all the time and you are just fine. What is the difference now?”

Riri and MJ have settled in the bleachers of the gym as people play basketball and chat around them. “Ok when I lack confidence that’s when I struggle.” MJ listens and she grabs Ri’s hand. “You have to be more confident in yourself then. Friend you are a baddie under these 2 size to big hoodies. Intelligent, funny, kind and humble. Anyone is lucky to know you girl. That’s the attitude you need. It’s senior year and you have never been to a dance or done a school function. We are fixing that!”

Taking out her iPad MJ opened the notes app and sat back. “We are making a senior year bucket list. The ultimate to-do list for this school year.” The girls talk back and forth while MJ creates the list. “M this is ridiculous, I am not a total square. I have done some stuff.” “Yep all academics and school related trips. This list is to break you out of this shell you put yourself in. You are only young once.” Riri is kind of hesitant. But is MJ right? Ri was always a student first. That was the priority. In reality she was scared of being social because it was unpredictable. She could not prepare, she just had to be and that is terrifying.

The girls complete the list and it feels good. There is just one problem.

“MJ how am I supposed to get invited to things or go on a date? No one knows me.” MJ smiles and winks looking out on the court. Shuri is taking a deep 3 point shot. She had been playing for most of lunch getting distracted every so often looking up at Riri.

Riri’s eyes widened at the realization. “No no no no. I don’t want to ask her.” MJ’s smile is neurotic. “Listen! What harm would it cause? Ask her for help and you never know you two may fall in love.” Riri contemplates the words. “Oh my…God”

A custom buzz comes through on Riri’s phone that she’s never heard. Who is texting her at this time a day. Her Mom is at work, her Sister is at work and MJ is with her. A name pops up: “Daddy Panther🖤✨” Shuri was texting her…The conversation was cute but stopped after a short exchange.

MJ snatches the phone and looks at it. With a holler. “Ooooooh you mean to tell me you think she puts that in everyone’s phone!?” Riri shakes her head. Good lord maybe this is not a one sided crush.

@somethingcleaverandwhitty @mal-urameshi @shuriris-stuff

[shabbytigers]

German learning status:

A2 Prüfung on Thursday, have nerves but realistically will do fine, the passing threshold is absurdly low. we did half a practice test today and I missed two points in Hören and aced Lesen, which in theory gives me enough latitude to weather potential catastrophe in Sprechen

not enrolled in the B1.1 Kurs following this one because I’m going to be away for 3 of the 6 weeks, but that turns out to have been a mildly boneheaded decision. there are not many B1.1 classes starting in August or September and most are full. I could commute to Lichtenberg or Schoenfeld or just wait till October. tbh am contemplating winging B1.1 in August-September with textbook, app, and a few tutoring check-ins to cover weird bullshit and keep me honest on Sprechen; ideally this would entail getting the good teacher to agree to tutor me, which sounds prima facie unlikely but he’s skint and would probably do it

the thing is I’m not sure how many more classes I can take where we learn some trivial piece of grammar wholly analogous to like nine other things we’ve already done and then drill it for two and a half hours 💀 today was a prolonged review of indirect questions, which I was extremely done with, and then new thing: etwas machen lassen, which I’d had a sufficiency of 20 minutes in after wrangling separable verbs, but no, there must be three different iterations of painful conversational practice with cue cards. deadly. I’d have bailed early if we hadn’t had test practice coming. “intensive” class options exist but from what I can tell it’s just more hours per week for a shorter course calendar, it’s not actually moving faster. ugh

gotta talk to the school about can i rejoin the sequence at a higher level later; there’s no gating test between B1.1 and B1.2, so theoretically it should work, but they might be super German about it

[socrat1cjunkiewannabe]

soo- we’re writers round here! we decided as a first post for our tumblr to showcase a sneak peak of some oneshot we’ve started up for our book over on ao3! (follow us at jimbomazza_taxi) and it’s for our “The 1975 oneshots” collection!

—

[How Can I Relate To You? — The 1975]

There was a shy kid, someone who hated to be in the main spotlight. Well, he didn’t hate being in some form of glory. It was the fact of being seen, the fact he could show more of his fuck ups if he were to do wrong, which feared this young guy. His name was Adam. His friends, Ross, George and Matty, they call him Hann.

But, he didn’t speak when he was first met with Matty. Matthew Healy the chatterbox, and Adam Hann the somewhat mute. Yeah, again it sounds like some weird universe, or fourth wall break to get these two in conversation. Well, it did take a few coaxes, and a few softer let downs for Adam’s frail mind to finally compute with Matty. Jokingly, Matty wrote a note passing it to Hann.

“How can I relate to someone who doesn’t speak?”

Hann receiving this crumpled piece of paper with the partly illegible jokey comment seems to frown a bit looking down at what Matty had put down, and would remain in silence for a bit longer, just contemplating what to write back. That’s where this block seemed to show, massively.

Matty was just crouched down opposite by this point, maybe on his phone. It was like he wasn’t aware the teachers would catch him, but Hann did have a somewhat cheeky jab in his note back to him, pushing it over with a nudge.

“We’re not all like you Matty, you just have a chatterbox for a mouth.. plus- the teachers will see your phone mate.”

Matty reads this, and places his phone down momentarily, although it was still open on some possible interface of an app, or maybe even his notes as he was known for scribing thoughts down on his phone. “Hann, you’re acting like my dad..” he’d chuckles, but was grinning with the joy at the joke pulled. “But yeah, I guess I’m a bit more extroverted. Probably ‘cos of me not really giving a damn what people see me for. Although, it’s usually class asshole.”

Hann just looks over, and although he didn’t really have a verbal answer for Matty, he did bear a warm smile, showing his teeth. He did feel that although him and Matty showed different in the personality front, that they may bond over the humouring side of things.. and that did open a door up.

“Hann, I do just want ya to know.. you can talk to me. You can talk to my mates too, Ross and George. Trust me, we’re not gonna be like dicks.” Matty seems to softly laugh, watching as green eyes had met to hazel, almost in a loving manner.

“To be fair, I’d like some friends with similar taste, since I’m just obsessed with guitars and seeing you love that too, it seems right.” Adam held the note in hand, lightly fidgeting with it but trying to explain back, and when Matty slowly started raising to his feet from the crouch on the floor, Hann’s gaze cast up again to Matty like martyr.

“C’mon, you’ll not regret it. It’ll be massive for you.” He adds, and that’s when the other was beginning to ascend to his feet as well and give a light smile, despite not being a vocal chirp. Again, a man of little words Hann.

Soon enough, let’s say what Matty noted was truth. By this time, they had just fired up a band, a dream that was shared by Matty’s friends Ross and George, and now by the new notice of Hann. The boys had been friends now for about two maybe three years, and safe to say what the now frontman of their dream career had voiced, sure enough had become true, and that always never failed to blow Hann’s mind every time it had struck him.

Performing at small places at first, Satan’s Hollow in Adam’s home of Manchester, then stretching out to Winslow in Cheshire for Ross’ birthplace.. London and then even eventually across the pond to Brussels where George resided before. The progression, always was important. And this time, during one of Adam’s moments of reminiscing, Ross came over.

“Hey Hann, you alright over there? Having a little daydream this morning?” His voice suffices with a little laughter, as he’d place a hand onto their guitarist’s shoulder, smiling. “You seem like you’re in a thinking state for sure.”

—

(that’s our progress so far! we also have two others already up to read, “In The Shade” and “It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You)” if you’re interested!)

— also! we are planning to be writing more with the boys and their mates more often in works, but that’ll be in the future hopefully, so if you lot are fanatics im sure you’ll appreciate this :]

[k00299795]

MOVEMENT

I’ve been working on this piece for a while now. A couple weeks ago, before I fell asleep, I had this “vision” of 4x4 of pages laid out in a grid, with little pen drawings in each with tons of empty space. I also got bored that day while I was working so I started using the chipper bags to draw on. So I took this down in my notes app.

I stole a load of these brown bags from work and over the next couple weeks I started doing these fragmented life drawings on the bags and in my sketchbook as I moved through my days, mostly on nights out. The bags became crinkled and folded and ripped but I think this just added to the piece. I think my artistic brain works best when I’m in a chaotic environment an I decide to take myself out of it to capture a moment. Metaphors and thoughts and creativity seem to flow easier in this state. Then it all comes together in a studio with my headphones on, it’s like editing.

I plan to work with photography in the future but I’m enjoying the limitations of not having a camera, because it is pushing me in these different directions to try and capture a moment.

There’s quite a bit more than what’s below but the photo limit is 10 on tumblr, and I kept giving away these drawings as gifts because I was usually on itttttt. I kept some and took a photo of one that i gave away that I felt was special. I also wrote quite of bit of poetry and lyrics with these life drawings that I included in the final piece.

The amount of art and music I’ve engaged with recently has been the burning fire of this piece. My concept for movement, put into a sentence, could be “How being moved by art inspires me to create.” I don’t really like how I have to confine this piece into a word, but I will explain that thoroughly in another post.

I did Eoins painting workshop last week, and this really pushed me to begin putting all of this together. The life drawing was perfect for me because I love quickly trying to capture a moment with just a pen and paper. I decided to meld my two ideas together and have this grid work as a base for these paper drawings.

I spent the week adding and removing and rearranging and until it felt finished to me, it had taken many forms through the week, and especially the last day. I took hours walking around and contemplating about the composition and colours, and adding little details and textures.

(Big shoutout to Johnny McMahon, a huge inspiration for how I used paint and looseness in this piece, I used him for artist research last semester but he deserves the mention again.)

Once I really felt satisfied with the work I hung it up in the hallway (out by the 1st year computer room) and I got a camera from Bob and photographed it.

Superstars being dragged through golden leaves with the whoosh and silence of war.

The rattling begins, rain breaks through the trees and hits the ground floor.

Here comes the morse code of higher powers, telling tales of clowns and paving the way for more.

[whythewords]

Ebbs and flows (Shot, Reverse Shot)

Sometimes it feels like an entire lifetime has transpired between posts. Thinking about the time that has transpired is bittersweet. On one hand it's like "oh shit, time is really getting away from me" and on the other hand it's like "oh shit, look how far I've come!" And that remains the state of this whole journal thang. Duality. The shitty times and the good. Ebbs and flows. Reading through that last post, I vividly remember the feelings of hopelessness around dating, around feeling stuck.

It's always ebbs and flows, it seems. My outlook is still kinda gloomy. I didn't sleep well at all last night and I was in bed almost all day today feeling like absolute death. It's hard not to contemplate how I would deal with situations like this differently if I had my own space. Or maybe I wouldn't even be in this predicament because I would have a more consistent healthy routine and get the things I want to do done during the day and actually sleep at night. We're in that weird transitional period between seasons where al the winter clothes need to be dug out and summer clothes put away. Three people in a two bedroom place means there's not a lot of room for everything and so a lot our clothes are in storage. Even the minor inconvenience of digging everything out brought on those thoughts of 'what if?' "In my own place I wouldn't have to deal with this shit. It would all just be there in one spot."

I do my best get over these humps and resume some form of mental stability and normalcy. I try to think about positive strides. Work is still just okay, but 'just okay' is a lot better than awful and I have to keep that in mind. I'm starting the process of doing some certification courses, making moves, to hopefully make more money, to hopefully make some LITERAL moves sooner rather than later. Talked to the folks at my bank about saving more over the next little while, started the conversation about mortgage pre-approvals and what it would ACTUALLY take to move out. Baby steps. Wish they weren't so baby, but they're steps. Seems to be a theme doesn't it? "Just okay" is better than "awful." "Baby steps" are better than no steps at all. And a date is better than no date.

That one girl who I told myself not to freak out about when the date didn't happen...the one prospect left after all of the seemingly "great luck" I was having on the apps for a while...the one girl I had been talking to since all the way back in July when I was visiting my friend on the East Coast...the "last remaining light" as it were (if I can invoke a little Audioslave)...the date didn't happen that day but it did eventually happen. And it went well. And I'm seeing her again in a couple of weeks. And she's cool and she's nice and all I can really do is hope it goes well.

I have a bad habit of getting too invested. It happened almost a year ago to the day, with the one other girl from these apps that I seemed to have a decent connection with. It fizzled early, after two dates. All I can really hope for is to make it to three this time. Just let it rock. Don't get my hopes up too high. I suppose I have to remember that if it doesn't work out, there are still so many other things to focus on. And the year is almost over. That part is fucking wild. But it means I made it another year.

There's another trip coming. In a week I'm going to Mexico with a small group and if I'm being honest, for the longest time I was kind of mad at myself I ever let them convince me to go. I was dreading it. A fucking trip to a tropical destination RIGHT as it's starting to get shit cold around here...and my spoiled ass was sulking about it. As it approaches now I'm coming to my senses and getting a bit more excited. It's another break from everything. Another opportunity to reset. Those don't really come as often as I want them so I should count my fucking blessings. AND my folks might take a little trip as well after I get back, meaning yet another nice stint of time where I've got the place to myself, when I can imagine what it'll be like when I'm back out on my own, when I've finally reclaimed the last of that independence I have been so fixated on.

It's ebbs and flows right? Sad, lonely, and sick of the same routine. Hopeful, open, and changing it up. I gotta grasp at those straws as they whizz past me as I fall super fucking fast toward my destination, not realizing the speed in which I'm moving.

There was a bit of an ant problem in my apartment the last few weeks. Got a few traps, seems to have cleared 'em right up. I'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere. There's always a solution I guess? Even if the solution is just knowing that a REAL solution will get here eventually.

Ebbs and flows. The flows are good, and demand to be gone with. So I'm going to try to go with the flow.

Until next time.

[scriveyner]

chase forever down 6/31

chase forever down | 6/31 | bungou stray dogs | 👿🐯 / sskk | #smarch 🔞| ~2200 words

It was raining again, which was about right, for the middle of the rainy season. Atsushi sighed as he stood under the awning and closed his umbrella, the rain on the awning above a steady patter. Akutagawa had texted him an address today, which was fine, but this time Atsushi had the forethought to punch it into the maps app on his phone to discover that he’d been directed not to a hotel, as he expected, but an izakaya.

Continue on AO3 or:

Odd, but not unusual enough to give him pause. Usually, when Akutagawa texted an address it was to a hotel, or somewhere else indoors because he was feeling particularly vampiric and had missed a meal, or simply didn’t want to be seen. He wondered, idly, what this was all about. Atsushi left his umbrella in the stand just inside the door and entered.

The izakaya was small and about half full; no one even glanced up at his entrance. Akutagawa was easily identifiable, sitting at the bar that faced the kitchen and dressed in simple, but sharply tailored civilian clothing—a black button-down and black trousers. He didn’t look up when Atsushi scooted out the chair next to him and sat with a whuff.

“This is different,” he said by way of greeting, and Akutagawa finally glanced at him. “Never seen this place before, is it owned by Port Mafia?”

“I am permitted to patronize establishments not controlled by the Port Mafia,” Akutagawa said flatly, and Atsushi raised his eyebrow. “But yes, this is a laundering front.”

Atsushi snorted. “Of course, it is.” He hooked his elbow over the back of his chair and looked down the length of the room, but the patrons did in fact seem like normal people; but then again, didn’t most who worked the most mundane of jobs at organizations like that? He hardly expected a secretary or office worker to look a particular way. “So why this place? Makes me feel like we’re going out, eating together like this.”

He ordered food, watching Akutagawa out of the corner of his eye. He had seen Akutagawa’s shoulders tense when he said that, which was curious in and of itself. “Are we going out?”

Akutagawa lifted his tea and took a drink. “You belong to me.”

“Okay, one, incorrect.” Atsushi jabbed his finger at Akutagawa. “And two, that wasn’t an answer.” Akutagawa made a noncommittal noise, and Atsushi blew out a breath in frustration.

“It was answer enough. You belong to me, whether you admit it or not.” Akutagawa tilted his head. “I have fed from you enough that my venom is in your veins. You would make any other vampire quite sick by this point, should they attempt to feed from you.”

Atsushi said, “your what?” Then he waved his hand, dismissing it, because Akutagawa said shit like that now like it was normal, he’d deal with it later. “How many vampires do you think I’m going to let feed on me, anyway? It’s not like they’re lining up around the block, here. Heck, do you even know any other vampires?”

Akutagawa took another sip of his hot tea. “Only one.”

“See? So, I don’t know why you’re making this about that.” He waved his hand again, and a hot tea slid across the counter to him as well. “Fine, I’m yours in the sense that I’m your walking, talking, personal blood bank. What about us?”

Akutagawa was silent for a little bit, contemplating this. “I suppose this could be construed as a date,” he mused. “Not that I have any experience in these endeavors, so I’m not certain of the proper order of things.”

“You don’t say,” Atsushi said dryly. Akutagawa gave him a look, and Atsushi put his chin in his hand. “So, we’re going out then.”

“It appears as such.”

Atsushi exhaled one long breath. Now it felt like a weight had lifted from him, and he could exist again. He’d been thinking about this all week, trying to decide the angle that he wanted to address this from; and it was as simple as this. He was suddenly, weirdly, seized with the urge to lean over and kiss Akutagawa but restrained it. They were in a Port Mafia owned izakaya, after all.

His food arrived steaming hot, and even Akutagawa had a small meal. They ate in mostly silence, listening to the background chatter of the people around them coming and going, with the cacophony from the open kitchen drowning out almost everything interesting. It was comforting, again, to just be sitting beside Akutagawa. Atsushi refused to think about anything else, especially not how he’d spent the majority of last night thinking more about how he might get another chance to suck Akutagawa’s dick today.

With a stomach full of warm food, Atsushi signed in contentment. He kept his hands around his hot tea until Akutagawa stood from his seat. “Shall we?”

Atsushi looked at his drink. “I haven’t paid for my meal, yet.”

“And you won’t. It’s been taken care of.” Atsushi blinked at him dumbly, and Akutagawa rolled his eyes. “On account.”

“Oh. Oh.” Atsushi took one last sip of his tea, and then flushed pink. “You paid for my dinner! You didn’t have to do that—”

“Weretiger, I’ve seen how you live.”

Atsushi stuck his tongue out at Akutagawa’s back as he followed him to the exit. His umbrella was still in the stand, although the rain had broken; there were a few spots of blue sky peeking between the thready grey clouds. The sun was setting now, though, so the daylight would not last long.

“Now what?” Atsushi asked his umbrella in hand and shadowing his eyes. Akutagawa typed something on his phone and inclined his head.

“I have a room.”

“Of course you do,” Atsushi snorted, because he was inured to it at this point. He walked beside Akutagawa, as apparently this place wasn’t particularly far and it felt nice, even if the air was still cool and damp.

To his absolute lack of surprise, this was also a love hotel. Akutagawa had apparently already purchased the room; there was a young couple standing at the opaque window who very pointedly did not look at them as they passed. Atsushi flushed pink, and Akutagawa smirked at him.

“Shy, weretiger?”

“People come here to fuck, of course, I’m shy.” Atsushi rubbed his arms, folded across his chest, as they walked. “I mean, we use it for other things, but—”

“Sometimes.” Akutagawa’s smirk was razor-sharp. “And sometimes we fuck.”

Now Atsushi’s face went bright red since he couldn’t deny it. Akutagawa laughed as he unlocked the door, and Atsushi stepped inside the room.

This hotel was slightly shabbier than the last one; no mirrored ceiling this time, thank goodness. Atsushi shuffled around inside the door while Akutagawa walked into the room proper, popping the top buttons of his collared shirt. He turned and looked at Atsushi, cocking his barely-there eyebrow. “Come now, weretiger. Nervous?”

“No.” Yes. “It just feels…different, this time. You need to feed, right?” That was, weird as it sounded, familiar and less scary at this point. Atsushi started to loosen his tie, and Akutagawa watched him critically as he slid it off.

“I do, but not yet. We did, after all, just have a delectable meal. And,” he added, taking a step closer to Atsushi, “I would like to savor my dessert.”

Atsushi relaxed into the kiss because this was easy. Akutagawa’s mouth was something he knew and understood. They parted, and the blush had subsided…somewhat. Akutagawa started unbuttoning Atsushi’s shirt, and said, casually, “I wish to see you touch yourself today, weretiger.”

“…what?” Atsushi was preoccupied with Akutagawa’s hands on his shirt. He’d never noticed how thin they were, pale like the rest of him; the words finally completed review and he looked up, startled. “What?”

Akutagawa smirked as he tugged on the end of Atsushi’s shirt, but went no lower. “Indulge my curiosity. Unless you wanted to do something else?”

Akutagawa…wanted to watch him jerk off? Atsushi squirmed in place; he had wanted very much to suck him but now the thought of speaking it aloud gave him pause. What if Akutagawa didn’t want him to? Anyway, it was embarrassing, but the other side of the coin was that Akutagawa had already had Atsushi’s dick in his mouth, so it wasn’t like there was anything left to hide there.

“Okay,” Atsushi said, uncertainly.

Rashomon rippled off the back of his clothing, dragging the single chair over by the bed, and Akutagawa sat, crossing his legs at the knee, watching over Atsushi as he finished undressing. Atsushi realized, very suddenly, that he’d never been fully nude and when he looked up Akutagawa was watching him very intently, eyes glittering.

He held out his hand to Atsushi and Atsushi walked over. “Your clothing makes you look slimmer,” Akutagawa said, when Atsushi stopped right in front of him, red as a traffic light. He placed his palm of Atsushi’s hip, before tracing his fingers over the faint definition of muscle under his skin. “And those ridiculous tiger limbs dwarf you, but you are…” he trailed off, eyes tracing up Atsushi’s chest until he met his eye and held it. “Delicious.”

Atsushi swallowed, but now Akutagawa’s hand drifted lower, finger tracing down through the wiry curls that framed his cock. His fingertips were like electricity, and Atsushi shuddered when Akutagawa stroked him slowly, waking his erection. “Perhaps I spoke too soon,” he murmured. “I think I’d much rather suck you, tonight. In more ways than one.”

“Can I…?” Atsushi asked, suddenly, and that broke the spell on Akutagawa. He lifted his eyes again to Atsushi, who said, stronger this time, “I want to suck you too. Can I?”

He seemed taken aback. “After what happened last time?”

Atsushi had to take two showers to get the spunk out of his hair; and was only too thankful that he didn’t run into anyone in the Agency on his way to the baths. Atsushi put his hand on the back of the armchair, forcing Akutagawa back as he leaned over him, knee going up on the cushion between his now-spread legs.

“Because of what happened last time,” Atsushi breathed, a fire beginning to burn in his belly. “I want to taste you again, now, when I don’t have to worry about being interrupted.”

Akutagawa’s mouth opened slightly; his head tilted back as he stared at Atsushi. Then that same sharp-edged smirk materialized, and he settled both his hands on Atsushi’s hips. “The bed is big enough for both of us,” he said, and leaned in close, biting Atsushi’s hip.

=====

Atsushi gripped Akutagawa’s thigh tightly, gasping as Akutagawa deep-throated him again. He was laid up on his side, one leg thrown over Akutagawa’s shoulder and his own face buried against Akutagawa’s twitching, drooling cock.

He’d been lapping at it for a while, intoxicated with the taste, but Akutagawa was beginning to get rough with him, swallowing him down in ways Atsushi couldn’t match, his arm looped over Atsushi’s side and two fingers deep in his ass. Atsushi couldn’t focus or concentrate, because the pleasure was threatening to overwhelm him, but he was doing his damnedest to hang on.

He was going to make Akutagawa climax first, damn it.

Atsushi heard Akutagawa choke slightly, draw off his cock and laugh. “You can’t keep an internal monologue to save your life, weretiger,” he wheezed, turning his head and dragging his fangs down Atsushi’s inner thigh. The scrape was barely painful; in fact, it lit his nerves on fire in new ways, and Atsushi’s thighs trembled as he clamped down on the fingers crooked inside him.

“Gonna make you,” Atsushi panted, sucking on the head of Akutagawa’s cock, and then popping off, pulling his hand tight around the shaft, stroking rapidly, “you’re gonna, first…”

“We shall see,” Akutagawa’s voice was at least worn and ragged, he was being affected, even if it wasn’t as bad as Atsushi himself. “Because I think I,” he twisted his fingers and Atsushi’s hips bucked, he squeezed Akutagawa’s cock but his eyes went back and he was gone, balls clenching as he released, falling straight over the edge. “I will be the winner again.”

He panted, lying on his side in the mess of the covers, body still quaking with the aftershocks from his orgasm. Akutagawa shifted free, pulling himself up on his knees, over Atsushi. “Weretiger,” he said, hoarsely, and Atsushi turned his head half-blindly, to see that Akutagawa had his dick in his hand. “Open your mouth.”

There was no weird voice modulation there, his eyes remained their usual grey, but still, Atsushi opened his mouth, tongue out, and Akutagawa stroked himself to completion across his face. He closed one eye just to be safe, but Akutagawa had good aim even leaned over him; most of the spill of fluid landed over his mouth and up his cheek.

When he was certain Akutagawa was through, he licked his lips and swallowed. “Good boy,” Akutagawa murmured, still leaning over him—and then he brushed some sweat-stuck hair from Atsushi’s neck and bit him, high up.

Atsushi keened at the fresh wave of pleasure that shot through his limbs, his cock jerking weakly and dribbling additional fluid as Akutagawa held him down and fed. “Fuck,” Atsushi sobbed, clawing red scratches into Akutagawa’s arm as he went light-headed and dizzy, and finally passed out, hand thumping lifelessly to the bed.

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