#and now im knitting slippers

[yeetbean]

help. how do i stop starting projects.

[kisbunzies]

More silly tf2 headcanons because i know more about them than valve does.

Sniper is practically nocturnal. You wont see him all day but you will find him sitting on the couch in base with snacks and a movie going like it 3am , no shoes or shirt despite it being February and his camper being parked like a mile.away acting like its totally normal. Will literally nap anywhere during the after noon dont be surprised if one day you find him hanging upside down like a vampire.

Speaking of which this mans goes everywhere shirtless and shoeless . gas station ? Shirtless and shoe less . walmart ? Shirtless and shoeless .middle of winter ? Maybe he's got socks on. They have to yell at him to get dressed or atleast put on sunscreen so he doesn't get crustier than he already is.

Pyro's really good at open flame cooking , bonfire grill gas stove flambae torch they can make anything as long as it requires fire. Also pyros mexican and atleast half of their "strange noises" are just them mumbling to themselves in spanish.

Heavy likes cozy stuff , he's struggled enough if he wants hot cocoa and a knitted blanket he can have hot cocoa and a knitted blanket. Owns the fuzziest pair of bear slippers known to man. Also i feel like he's a salmon guy idk maybe he rlly is just a bear but guy.

Saxton hale likes men.

Scout if so painfully straight. And i dont mean straight as in sexuality i mean straight as in pure fucking aura. Ms pauling comes out as a lesbian and he says "oh shit i like girls too we should date" sees heavy and medic kiss and his brain doesn't acknowledge it. This is true even is scout likes dudes he's the 1970's equivalent of those guys nowadays who wear nothing but nike and use the word gyat unironically and im tired of pretending like he isn't.

Ms pauling wants to be a merc so bad she thinks that its so cool but her mom told her murders for boys so she's just the administrators assistant/hj

Demoman has the most curly , bouncy , volumous gorgeous hair under than beanie. He keeps it in cornrows most of the time but when he does wear his hair out its a sight to behold.

Engineer makes the corniest , most dad like jokes known to man , its literally horrible they all groan so loud whenever he does but he thinks its hilarious.

Sniper , scout , pyro and soldier are all sour gummy worm addicts to the point that their stash takes up and entire shelf in the base pantry. Go through a costco bag a week.

The local costco dreads their presence , engineer and sniper and in the outdoors section, medics necromancing the chickens , pyros was the one roasting those chickens before they got necromanced, they managed to lose heavy somehow , scout managed to convince spy to get into a toilet paper fort they made and now their introuble with management, soldiers ordering a forth of july cake despite it being october and demomans buying premade meal kits for dinner for him.and his mom over the week. Pyro saved him a necromanced rotisserie chicken. And yes sniper still isn't wearing a shirt or shoes they've given up.

Spy had eyebags and grey hair , misses when was young and spry , is a little jealous of medic managing to have a full head of dark hair.

Medics ethnically jewish. He gets his black market organs kosher .

And finally out of all the mercs soldier goes to.medic the most for actual injuries , scout goes the most for.minors , engineers got the most perscriptions including hearing aids and stuff for pyro he picks up , sniper never goes to the doctor and medic has to drag him in . spies the worse when it comes to appointments (doesn't like any part of him being seen and despit having spy training still doesn't like.needles) and medic favorite patient is heavy for obvious reasons

[feathersandfarmers]

So do you have any bunty headcanons

Hmm....lemme think...Bunty isn't a character i think about too much tbh, she's like my least fave chicken (no offense, Bunty!)

Bunty headcanons:

-Bunty once received a birthday gift from Babs, which was a knitted pair of fluffy bunny slippers..she pretended to be embarrassed by them but she secretly loved them and wears them all the time (but only inside her hut so no one sees!)

-Bunty felt very bad about what she did to Babs on the farm, so she eventually apologized to her by giving her a bouquet of flowers she gathered on the island. (I see Bunty as a proud character, so she might not have directly said "im sorry" but she did it through an action)

-Bunty is actually a softie deep down, she could be very nice and encouraging to anyone who needs it. She even has a teddy bear in her hut that she hides under her nest (she thinks no one knows about it, but Babs does)

-Frizzle thinks Bunty is really cool...she admires Bunty's strength and take-no-shit attitude. I personally feel they'd get along (Bunty is the cool aunt that lets you get away with things)

-Even though Bunty is strong on the outside, she admires Ginger a lot for being so strong on the inside

-This one might be obvious, but since Bunty is strong, she helps out the most with construction on the island. She's actually pretty talented for manual labor, and really enjoys it!

That's it for now! :)

[milkweedman]

Sprained one of my fingers during work somehow and was very Doom and Gloom abt it bc if i cant do stuff with my hands right now i'll die. Thankfully, however, the pain is mostly when i try to straighten it and my fingers are curled when i knit so it's not a problem at all

[spacedikut]

i love your blurbs sm, can you write one about in quarantine with spence?

“im running out of new things to try.”

spencer’s looming in the doorway, enviously watching your position of comfort - you’re on your twelfth book, cuddled up in the duvet, using every pillow on the bed to your advantage.

he’s been pottering around in the kitchen all morning - he’s recently discovered his mathematical mind makes baking come naturally, and he’s beginning to translate that ability to pastries that he’s only content with if you shove into your mouth whole.

you hum. “you could clean,”

“already done.”

“rearrange your books?”

“did it yesterday. and five days before that.”

“...are there any puzzles you haven’t finished?”

“i’ve done them all at least twice now.”

you laugh, then, because it’s barely midday and this crisis usually happens at least right before dinner - to which you suggest he attempts to make said dinner and... he tries his best - and spencer frowns, displeased by your response and evident lack of empathy when it comes to his struggle. and what a struggle it is.

he shuffles towards the bed, kicking off his slippers (which he made himself - penelope sent a kit), revealing his mismatching socks (that he crocheted), a rush of air pushing out of you both when he lands on you.

“it’s not funny!” he whines, worming his way into your neck. “i have a shipment of new books arriving tomorrow, but every time i track the delivery it shows the same ‘delivery in progress!’ message.”

“for once, your constant need to be learning has come to bite you in the butt.”

that wasn’t the correct response, apparently - although he doesn’t move from being burrowed in your side, his lithe fingers momentarily dig into your side, just enough to get a reaction and for him to pull back and show you the pout on his lips. he’s asking for sympathy and you’re making fun of him.

he pauses, calculating as he waits for you to catch your breath. “what about a pet?” he asks.

although you’re fond of the idea, there’s one tiny issue: “that would require going outside, mr homebody.”

he huffs, moving from your chest to resting his head on your stomach - prime head scratching position. 

“doctor homebody.” he mumbles uselessly.

he flicks through his options like a catalogue in his mind - he’s done knitting, crocheting, sewing, anything involving needles and patterns, really, and he’s done his fair share of baking and cooking and he made that lopsided cake that one time. he’d reread every single book in your apartment before the first lockdown ended, and although he’s more than happy to do it all again...his brains needs something different. something other than being stationary and only using his upper body to flip pages and stir pots and weave fabric through holes.

with a soft hand rubbing against the bare skin of your thighs - he’s also started taking skincare very seriously - he tentatively asks, “we could...dance?”

you pause, questioning whether you heard him correctly.

“did you hear me?” spencer asks, turning to face you, fingers poking under the book that rests on your chest to lift it so he can see your face. you look very confused.

“dancing?”

“yeah.”

“you want to dance?”

“im not great, but...”

“you really want to?”

he can’t decipher if the expression on your face is building excitement or disgust. it’s terrifying - one will lead to future embarrassment (when he inevitably stands on your toes) and the other will lead to imminent embarrassment (when you call him a gangly freak). “i would like to, yes. if you’ll be my partner.”

“spence!” you sit up abruptly, forcing him to follow, and now he’s confident it’s excitement contorting your face. “are you kidding? of course! this’ll be so much fun,” you’re wiggling from under him and leaving the bed. spencer watches you with a warm smile. “i’ve always wanted to see you dance, ever since i saw the videos of jj’s wedding.”

you move towards the record player in your room, shuffling through the vinyls you own with pursed lips and bright eyes. spencer watches, leaning back on one arm, lovesick and surprisingly not even a little worried about how difficult this will be for his uncoordinated self.

(the mention of wedding has him asking if you’ve got any music fit for a waltz - of course you do - and has him tearing up with you’re close and softly singing along to what spencer decides will be your wedding song)

[hrina]

Something Strange

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: R WORD COUNT: 6.3k+ REQUESTED: no

uhhhh hi. so. this is my (first ever) halloween fic, ft. infuriatingly cocky ghostbuster!harry. i really hope you guys enjoy it, and just like every other writer on this godforsaken site, i’d love to hear any feedback that you might have. ok im done now lol go forth and read :)

warnings: cursing, brief nsfw content, a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions, and harry being an asshole with a secret heart of gold.

~*~

    October 2nd, 2021

Your attention is first caught by the massive, obnoxiously-coloured truck parked in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway. The entire vehicle is a shade of navy blue, though its sophistication is ruined by the neon green bubble lettering streaked across its doors.

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

Beneath that, there’s a promise painted in bright pink:

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit your car, momentarily forgetting about the groceries sitting in the trunk. Mindy and Gerald are standing on their porch, absorbed in a light-hearted conversation. When they catch sight of you trekking across the lawn, they smile brightly and offer up a pair of welcoming waves.

“Hi, there!” you call, shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “What’s all this?”

“Good afternoon, dear!” Mindy replies. She quickly descends the front steps, meeting you halfway and enveloping you in a tight hug. “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You can drop in whenever you want,” you say, chuckling. “It’s not like I live very far away.”

“How have you been?” Gerald follows his wife, steadily making his way off the porch. “How’s school?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Things are picking up, now, but I’m trying my best to stay on top of them.”

You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the bright pickup truck parked in their driveway. (It really is ugly, you think. Probably one of the ugliest vehicles that you’ve ever had the displeasure of perceiving.)

“What’s going on?”

“Oh!” Mindy lifts her hands to her mouth, gazing at you with wide, serious eyes. “Our house is haunted.”

You balk. “Pardon me?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It sounds silly. I didn’t believe it at first either, but—something keeps knocking our picture frames off the wall. And the lights! They start flickering at random intervals throughout the day.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rats?” you joke.

Gerald, who has now joined you on the lawn, holds up his hand solemnly. “We tried using traps, but they haven’t been touched at all.”

“Exactly.” Mindy nods, turning back to you. “We’re already worried about Joseph’s wedding next week, so one of the ladies at the community centre recommended Harry. That same day, Gerald gave him a call, and that was the end of it.”

“Who’s Harry?” you ask, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Er—” A deep voice sounds from behind you. “I am.”

When you turn around, you come face-to-face with one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He’s got mossy green eyes, dark pink lips, and brown hair that curls around his temples and behind his ears. Smooth skin stretches out over high, chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He’s wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and matching white sneakers. A black hoodie covers his broad chest; upon taking a closer look, you note that the two front strings have been tied into a picturesque little bow.

Mindy wastes no time, introducing the two of you immediately. When Harry holds out his hand for you to shake, you don’t hesitate.

“Did you want my card?” he asks, peering at you curiously.

You study his expression. Beneath his seemingly sincere exterior, arrogance runs wild and unchecked. You know this man. You’ve met him a hundred different times under a hundred different circumstances, and you’ve learned to recognize a lost cause when you’re staring it square in the face.

“Not at all.” You shoot him a fake smile. “I’m just the neighbour.”

“Right.” His lips twitch. He steps back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “Well, I should probably get to work. It was nice meeting you, babe.”

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

When you turn back around to resume your conversation with Mindy and Gerald, they’re gone. Your eyes bounce to the right, where you find them guiding Harry up the porch steps. Mindy has one hand on his bicep whilst gesturing animatedly with the other. Gerald opens the front door and holds out his arm, welcoming Harry inside.

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” you mumble as you make your way back across the lawn. The trunk of your car squeaks when you pull it open, and plastic bags rustle as you gather your groceries into your arms.

Ghosts aren’t real. And Harry is obviously a scammer, based on…well, based on everything. The tacky design on his truck. The unprofessional wardrobe. The self-assuredness emanating from every cell in his body. Babe.

But Mindy and Gerald truly believe that their home is haunted. Trying to change their minds without a shred of physical proof is pointless. You blow out a soft sigh, accepting the grim reality of your situation.

Your neighbours are gullible, trusting people. And for the next few days—whether you like it or not—Harry is here to stay.

      October 5th, 2021

You’re approximately two seconds away from chucking your textbook against the far wall.

You’ve been trying to finish this chapter for the past hour. And though you pride yourself on being tolerant when it comes to petty annoyances, your patience is wearing thin. A quick glance out of your bedroom window reveals Harry’s hideous pickup truck parked—yet again—in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway.

You roll your eyes. Of course.

The piercing, raucous whirring starts up again; you release a frustrated yell, slamming your book shut and leaping off your bed. You’re muttering obscenities under your breath as you stalk down the hall, stopping briefly to slide on a pair of fuzzy slippers. When you yank your front door open, the chilly autumn air settles into your bones.

The clamour grows louder as you stomp across your shared lawn. When you knock on Mindy and Gerald’s door, the commotion is nearly unbearable. A few seconds go by, during which your presence remains unacknowledged; you rap once again on the wood, hoping that the sound will be conspicuous enough amidst all of the background noise.

Sure enough, everything goes quiet. Your shoulders slump with relief just as the door opens. Mindy greets you with a friendly smile.

“Hi, dear,” she says kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” You force yourself to mirror her affable expression, hoping that she can’t see the pained exhaustion brewing in your eyes. “Could I just—could I speak with Harry, please? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” She nods before peering at you anxiously. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got ghosts, too.”

“No.” You shake your head. Ghosts aren’t real, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “No, I just—I just need to have a quick word with him, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’ll go fetch him.” She turns around and totters away.

You hear her call his name, followed by the telltale sound of shuffling. After a few long moments, he’s there, leaning against the doorway with a bemused look on his face.

“Evening, babe,” he says coolly. “What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot upward. He hadn’t expected you to greet him with such animosity, you suppose. His outfit is nearly identical to that of the other day, save for the red bandana perched atop his head. He buries his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging nonchalantly and pinning you with a blasé, unimpressed gaze.

“Noted,” he says. The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked smirk as he repeats, “What’s up?”

“You need to keep it down,” you say flatly. “I don’t know what kind of fake ‘exorcism’ bullshit you’re trying to pull off, but the noise is driving me insane. I need to study.”

“‘Fake’?” Harry parrots. “You don’t believe in spirits?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I don’t.” You narrow your eyes, studying the subtle movements of his face. “And if I had to take a wild guess, neither do you.”

“Really,” he says, chuckling softly. It isn’t a question.

“Really.”

Harry watches you, tickled by your obvious exasperation. “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Look at that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He does have a brain.”

“You’re so judgmental.” He laughs, shaking his head. “How can you dislike me when you barely even know me?”

“I know enough,” you reply, scowling. “I know that you’re a fraud who takes advantage of people and their fears. And for what? Just so that you can take home a paycheque at the end of the day?”

“Ouch.” Harry feigns injury, placing a large hand over his heart. “That hurts, babe.”

There it is again. Babe.

“You know what?” Your nostrils flare. “Forget this—it’s like trying to explain rocket science to a toddler.”

He grins. “Yeah, I suppose. I’m much cuter, though, don’t you think?”

You scoff, pedalling backward. “In your dreams.”

His delight only seems to grow when your retort sinks in. You whip around, descending the porch steps and storming back toward your house. When you chance a glance over your shoulder, Harry is still standing in the doorway, a shit-eating smile stretched wide across his cheeks.

“Just keep it down, okay?” you call irritably.

He raises two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute, and you march away without another word.

      October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

You laugh. “Yes, Mindy, I’m sure. I promise.”

“Alright,” she assents, blowing out a quiet sigh through the phone. “I went grocery shopping today, so our cupboards are fully stocked—help yourself to anything you’d like. Also, when you flush the downstairs toilet, the water may look like it’s rising, but it goes down after a second or two.”

“Noted.” You snicker. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Tell Joseph and Amy that I said congratulations, yeah?”

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

      October 9th, 2021

When Mindy and Gerald get back tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to wring their necks.

Agreeing to housesit whilst they celebrated their son’s wedding a few cities away? Sure. Fine. You had a long night full of nothing planned—sitting in front of the television, munching on some snacks, relaxing for the evening and trying to forget about all of the schoolwork waiting for you at home. You were in the middle of watching a Golden Girls rerun when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You stood, setting your bowl of popcorn aside. The knocking continued as you made your way to the front entrance, wiping your buttery fingers against the dark leggings covering your thighs.

“I’m coming,” you said exasperatedly. You opened the door, ready to shoo away whoever it was—a salesperson, probably.

Instead, you came face-to-face with Harry.

And now, you’re here—slumped on the couch, angrily shovelling popcorn into your mouth. You keep your gaze trained on the television, trying your hardest to avoid the man who is setting up his “equipment” in the middle of the room.

“Can’t you do this in the kitchen?” you deadpan.

He flicks a switch on his machine—it looks an awful lot like a standard centrifuge. What a fraud.

“Spirit energy’s strongest in here,” he grunts. His knees scuff against the carpeted floor.

A derisive laugh falls from your lips. “Mindy and Gerald aren’t here—you can drop the act.”

Harry glances up at you, his pretty green irises glimmering. “What act?”

You roll your eyes and look away, fixing your attention back on the grainy screen.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes; tension builds, saturating the air and making it hard for you to breathe. Eventually, Harry breaks through the awkward silence. You want to scream.

“Er—” he starts, expectant. “Do you mind stepping out for a second? I need the room.”

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

“I heard you,” you say, sitting up straight. “You don’t need anything. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, babe.” His tone is genuine, but you can sense the mirth simmering just beneath the surface. His lips twitch, and your frustration boils like water over a stove.

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest. “And stop playing dumb. Other people might put up with your pseudo-spooky bullshit, but I won’t. Ghosts aren’t real!”

The lights go out.

You gasp, straining your eyes in an attempt to regain your bearings. Slowly, blurry shapes and shadows materialise in front of you. You fumble around for your phone, picking it up and tapping the screen. A moment later, the device’s flash lights up the room. You shine it from side to side, eventually settling on Harry, who is looking up at the ceiling in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” you squawk, glaring at him. “The power went out. Big deal.”

The lights flicker fleetingly, and then the room is dark again. Your eyes drift over to Harry; he’s smirking.

“This isn’t a ghost,” you say stubbornly, waving your phone around. The bright light bounces across the walls before you steady yourself, positioning the beam back on him. He stands, sinking his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.

“And how would you know?” he teases, cocking one eyebrow challengingly.

“Because,” you scoff. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Something crashes to the floor. You yelp in surprise, your head snapping to the right. When you shine your light in the direction of the noise, you find a shattered picture frame lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Harry murmurs, advancing toward the mess.

“Careful!” you say, holding up your hand. He stops in his tracks, peering over at you in confusion. “There’s glass, idiot,” you explain, climbing to your feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He shoots you a crooked smile. “You do care.”

“I don’t.” Your response is curt. “I just don’t feel like driving you to the hospital so that they can remove fragments from your foot.”

Harry chuckles.

You sigh, squinting at the fallen frame. “We can clean it up when the lights come back on,” you say, mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

He nods and yawns, stretching his arms out above his head. “Suit yourself, babe.”

“The next time you call me that, I’m going to—”

“What?” he asks, padding over to the sofa. You watch him approach with a deep scowl on your face. He collapses onto the couch, slouching and spreading his legs obnoxiously wide. “You gonna beat me up or something?”

You shake your head in disbelief, stepping away from him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

You break off, producing an angry noise in the back of your throat. Harry winks at you; in response, you whip around and storm away, carving out a path from the living room to the kitchen.

You shine the light from your phone across the cupboards, making a beeline for the fridge. When you pull it open, the cold compartment is dark. Squinting, you reach for one of the many water bottles stacked on the top shelf.

Stupid Harry, with his stupid smile and his stupid eyes and his stupid attitude and his stupid bogus business. You can’t believe that Mindy and Gerald were naïve enough to fall for his bullshit. You need to have a long talk with them when they get back, you think—to ensure that they never swallow a pill this big ever again.

“Thirsty?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, pointing your phone toward the kitchen’s exit. Harry is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You bring one hand up to your sternum, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking your head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He snickers lowly. You turn your attention back to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it quickly. Through the darkness, Harry watches you gulp down the cool liquid; you pretend not to notice.

“Can I help you?” you finally ask, wiping your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…looking, I guess.”

“That’s creepy,” you reply flatly. He laughs.

“May I steal a bottle?” he says, padding across the tiles. “I’m parched.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I—sure. Whatever.”

And though you try, you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. He hums as he opens up the fridge, leaning forward to get a better look inside. You play with the hem of your sweater, standing behind him awkwardly. When he peers over his shoulder, you quickly look away, feigning interest in the marble countertop next to the sink.

“Er—” he starts. He fixes you with an inquisitive look, glancing down at the device in your hand. “Would you mind? I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

“Yeah, but you’re already holding yours. Come on.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You draw nearer, lifting your phone and shining its flash into the fridge. Harry hums, plucking a water bottle off the top shelf with a satisfied smile. When he turns to face you, a puff of air catches in your throat; he’s awfully close, his torso brushing almost imperceptibly against yours.

You stare up at him, stunned. There’s a small mole beneath the left corner of his mouth. Part of you—an insignificant, microscopic part—fights the urge to reach out and run your thumb over the mark.

“I’m sorry for calling you a piece of shit,” you blurt.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding and fitting a bit more firmly against your own.

The contact snaps you out of your trance. You retreat, backing up against the counter to maintain your balance. Harry clears his throat and glances away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

The two of you stand there for a long moment, sinking into a pool of uncomfortable silence. Just when you think that you’re going to choke on the invisible tension, a faint buzz resonates through the air. Less than a second later, the power returns, illuminating the kitchen in a wash of warm, brilliant light.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You shut the flash on your phone, sliding the device beneath the waistband of your leggings.

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He waves your question away. “No, it’s—it’s nothing.”

And you don’t really feel like pressing the subject, so you let it go. A tired sigh falls from your mouth as you scan your surroundings.

“Help me find a broom,” you tell him. “We need to sweep up the glass in the other room.”

His lips twitch. “What’s the magic word?”

There he is. The same insufferable man who has been pushing your buttons all week. You scowl, shooting him a displeased glare.

“Forget it.” You drag your fingers down the left side of your face. “I’ll do it myself.”

~*~

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Harry calls, kicking his feet up onto the sofa.

You grunt, crouching next to the shattered glass on the floor. “Positive.”

The broom and dustpan that you’ve acquired from the laundry room are old and frail, but you suppose that they’ll get the job done. You set the dustpan down on the ground, wrapping your fingers around the broom’s handle and trying to maneuver it in an efficient way. It’s no easy feat, but eventually, you manage to create a small, compact pile of shards. Gingerly, you reach for the picture frame, plucking it up from the ground and setting it off to the side. Next, you take your time sweeping all of the fragments into the dustpan, inspecting the floor for any lingering bits.

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

“No,” you counter in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I got it all, actually. No thanks to you.”

You throw the last part over your shoulder, coupling it with an accusatory frown. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, suppressing his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be exorcising spirits?” you ask. Sarcasm drips from your words.

He chuckles. The couch squeaks as he shuffles around; a moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You stiffen when he stops next to your squatted form.

“To be quite honest,” he begins, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m having a much better time watching you.”

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

He laughs, lowering himself to his knees. In the periphery of your vision, you watch him pick up the abandoned picture frame, turning it around and studying the photograph inside. His cheeks lift with the slope of a familiar smile, but somehow, this one is different from the others that you’ve witnessed.

It’s real. Sincere.

“Nice, don’t you think?” Harry asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

He extends his arm, revealing the photograph. Mindy and Gerald’s beaming faces stare up at you, a balance of bright grins and crinkled eyes. Subconsciously, your lips curl upward, and you take the frame from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, running your fingertips over the photo. “They look happy.”

“How long have you known them?” he asks. There’s no malice behind the question.

“Since I moved in,” you say absentmindedly, admiring the ornate frame around the picture. “A few years, now.”

He hums in response. “They talk about you a lot.”

“All good things, I hope.” You cast a wry look in his direction.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. They look out for you, it seems.”

“I try to look out for them, too.” You sit back on your haunches, groaning quietly. “Which is why I was surprised that they didn’t come to me when they first thought their house was ‘haunted’.”

Your intonation changes on the last word; you still don’t believe that your neighbours are being plagued by spirits, despite the plethora of peculiarity that you’ve witnessed tonight.

“Maybe they didn’t want to worry you,” Harry suggests.

You roll your eyes. Even now, he refuses to drop the act.

“Sure,” you say. “So, hiring a spirit exterminator—or whatever you pretend to be—was a better move?” You snort softly, climbing to your feet. “How much are they paying you, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

A beat of silence drags out, during which you swallow your shock. You clear your throat and lift your chin, staring down at Harry banally.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

“You are!” you insist. A short, incredulous laugh tumbles off your tongue. “You are one hundred percent fucking with me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

“Your truck, though...” you say. “‘Lasting results, or your money back’?”

“I’ve got to make it look legitimate, don’t I?” He smirks. “But it’s cute that you remembered.”

Your eyes lock with his, and suddenly, it’s almost impossible to breathe. His gaze is deep, open, and honest. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Instinctively, your legs carry you a few paces back, veering toward the sofa. You plop down onto the plush cushions, clutching the picture frame tightly between your fingers.

“Then, why—?” you break off, shaking your head. “Why would you—?”

“Peace of mind,” Harry shrugs, still rooted to his spot on the floor. “Ever heard of the placebo effect?”

“You admit it, then,” you say, sitting up straight. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He nods, blinking languidly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“So,” you start, trying to make sense of the situation, “you let them believe that you’re actually cleansing the house—for free, too—just to—?” You glance around the room, searching for the right words. “—just to put them at ease?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I—” You hesitate, depositing the photograph next to you on the couch. “This whole time, I thought you were just…”

“A con?”

You bring your fingers up to your mouth, nodding silently and studying him with big, rounded eyes.

He shrugs.

“I mean, I never really got the chance to explain myself. You’d already made up your mind about me, hadn’t you? So, I thought I’d just let you stick with your assumptions—it didn’t bother me much.”

“I’m a horrible person,” you say, mostly to yourself.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just a bit judgmental, that’s all.”

“You’re right.” You nod again, bowing your head in shame. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

“I should finish up,” you state, embarrassed beyond belief. Harry watches you closely as you approach. You crouch down next to him, reaching for the dustpan with shaky hands. A few small shards of glass are littered at the brink of the collector; you nudge them away from the edge, trying to be as careful as possible.

“Ow!” you suddenly hiss, retracting your arm quickly. You twist your wrist, fixing your attention on a thin cut engraved into the pad of your index finger.

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

You shake your head, waving away his worries. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got nicked, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he requests, holding out his own hand.

You pause, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and stealing a quick glance at his face. His expression is concerned, but neutral. Your hesitation is silly, you think—he may be a bit of a jackass, but he’s not going to hurt you. You’ve already condemned him once before, and you were wrong.

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

After a brief moment, you give in, sliding your knuckles into his open palm.

“It’s alright, really,” you say, speaking around the lump in your throat. “The piece was tiny—it hardly broke the surface.”

Harry inspects the laceration closely, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s not that serious, you want to tell him, but you refrain from letting the words escape. Part of you is enjoying the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You don’t want it to end—not yet.

“You’re bleeding a bit, babe,” he announces faintly, brows cinched in concentration.

“I am?” You try to tug your arm back, but he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. A low, confused noise echoes in the back of your throat; Harry peers up at you, his features unreadable.

“It’s just a spot,” he murmurs. “Let me.”

And before you can say or do anything else, he’s taking your finger past his lips and giving an easy, gentle suck.

You squeak.

The sound snaps Harry out of his trance; he releases your hand and recoils hastily. You exhale, driving out the stale air gathered in your lungs. When you peek up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s already watching you, shoulders taut with anxiety.

“Sorry,” he stammers. His nostrils flare. “That was weird—sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “Er…thanks.”

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

Awkwardly, you wipe your clammy palms against your thighs. Harry seems to be looking at everything except for you; his gaze flits to the ceiling, then to the couch, then to the floor. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and push yourself up off the ground. The room is painfully quiet as you slowly slink back toward to the sofa.

“I should probably put this somewhere safe,” you mumble, picking up the forgotten picture frame.

Warm air floats over the nape of your neck. You gasp and spin around, nearly toppling over in your haste. Harry’s hands find your shoulders, steadying you and crowding you closer to his chest. You glance up at him; your shallow breaths mingle together in the narrow space, noses only inches apart.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice no higher than a gruff whisper. “Tell me. Please.”

In response, you fumble for one of his hands, grappling at his wrist; he loosens his hold on your arms, confused but willing. He’s motionless as you lift his knuckles up to your mouth. You glance down, tilting your head to the side and studying them carefully. Harry says nothing when you press a soft, feathery kiss to the pad of his index finger.

But then you’re dipping the tip of the digit between your lips, and suddenly, he’s undone.

“Fucking—”

He grabs your face in his palms and seals his mouth to yours.

The two of you stagger backward, tumbling onto the couch. Mindy and Gerald’s picture frame slips from your grasp, landing on a neighbouring cushion with a faint thud. Reflexively, your legs part; Harry takes his rightful place between them, slanting his body accordingly. When he applies the faintest hint of pressure, you moan.

“Fuck.” He draws back, his warm breath wafting over your chin. “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

He shakes his head. “Don’t make those noises. It’s—you’re—I’m—”

He curses quietly and reaches for one of your hands. You allow him to guide your palm lower, inhaling sharply when you feel the slight bulge protruding from his trousers. Instinctively, your fingers close over the subtle ridge of his cock. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Not fully.” He swallows. “But I’m getting there.”

“Because of me?” you ask, peering up at him innocently.

“Yeah.” Harry expels a wobbly, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, babe—because of you.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as the familiar moniker falls from his mouth. He notices your unusual reaction, mouth curling into teasing smirk.

“What?” he says, lifting one eyebrow. “No nagging, this time? I thought you hated that nickname.”

You grip the collar of his sweater and give a gentle tug, guiding him down for another kiss. When the two of you finally break apart, you shrug. “It’s growing on me.”

He smiles.

“Do you—?” you pause, pursing your lips. The question sounds silly—presumptuous, even. Rather than finishing your sentence, you lift your chin, gazing up evenly into Harry’s green eyes and declaring, “I think I want to sleep with you.”

His cheeks dimple with a wide grin. “Is that so?”

You nod.

“Right, then.” He kisses your nose and pulls away. “There’s a condom in my wallet, but…I may or may not have left it in my truck.”

You groan, allowing your head to fall back against the sofa with a heavy thump. Harry chuckles at your theatrics. After a brief moment of contemplation, you compose yourself and sit up quickly.

“That works, actually,” you say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Grab your wallet, and then we can go to my place. I don’t think my neighbours would be very happy if we fucked on their couch.”

He laughs, climbing eagerly to his feet and shooting you a smug wink. “You got it, babe.”

      October 10th, 2021

It’s nearly half past noon when you step out onto the porch the next day. You yawn, squinting up at the sun shining brightly in the sky. There are no clouds in sight; the slight chill of the autumn air tickles your exposed arms. You tug on the waistband of your sweatpants, keeping the material seated firmly on your hips.

“Good morning, dear!”

You jump, head snapping in the direction of a familiar voice. Mindy and Gerald are sitting on their veranda, nursing twin cups of coffee and looking awfully cozy. Gerald smiles at you, folding up his newspaper and setting it on his lap.

“Good morning!” You wave before re-evaluating your words. “Well, it’s technically past twelve, so good afternoon.”

Mindy laughs.

“How was the wedding?” you ask, approaching the side of your deck. You lean against the thin metal railing, combing your fingers through your messy hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back this soon.”

“We woke up early,” Mindy explains. “And the wedding was fabulous. Amy wore the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” You grin. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course! Just let me run inside and grab my phone—”

“Mornin’,” a gruff voice says from behind you.

You gasp and spin around, bringing a hand to your chest. The sight laid out before you has your heart speeding up, galloping wildly and battering against the confines of your ribs.

Harry’s wearing that same hoodie from last night. Your gaze trails lower—he’s also sporting a pair of grey boxers and white socks. There’s a mug nestled in each of his large hands, his spindly fingers wrapped around the handles comfortably. Your eyes lock with his sleepy ones, and your breathing hitches in your throat.

“Morning,” you whisper, unable to muster up anything louder.

“I—” Harry clears his throat, stepping closer and extending his left arm. “I, er, took the liberty of making us some tea. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s—” You swallow as you accept one of the mugs, suppressing a giddy smile. “It’s completely fine. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

His gaze wanders over your shoulder, and it’s then that he notices Mindy and Gerald sat on the neighbouring porch. Without even batting an eye, he lifts his hand in a friendly wave. “Morning, you two. How was the wedding?”

You turn back toward the couple, a sheepish look on your face. Mindy is beaming, and Gerald is trying to hold back a laugh. Heat creeps up your neck; you wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“It was wonderful!” Mindy trills. Her enthusiasm has skyrocketed. You pinch the bridge of your nose, utterly mortified.

“Yes.” Gerald finally pipes up, smirking knowingly. “It was great. What about you, though? How was your night?”

“Fine,” you blurt before Harry can respond. “It was fine.”

The duo share a look, and then Mindy giggles girlishly. You bring your mug up to your mouth, taking a long sip and groaning into the cup. Harry’s arm snakes around your waist, making you jump. You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye; he’s fighting a smile.

“Well—” Gerald clears his throat, plucking his folded newspaper from his lap and rising to his feet. “I think I’ll be going, now. Need to catch up on those few extra hours of sleep.”

“Me too,” Mindy says, nodding fervently. She directs her next words at you. “If you pop by later, I’ll show you those photos, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

“God,” you say immediately, hanging your head. “That was torture.”

Next to you, Harry laughs. You aim a weak swat at his chest. He snickers, catching your palm and ducking down to drop a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You exhale shakily, twisting your body around so that you can face him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, running your free hand through his dishevelled curls.

He cocks one eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

You scoff. “Shut up.”

He chuckles quietly and steps closer to you, holding out his mug. You smile in assent, mirroring his movements and clinking your cups together.

“So,” Harry starts, sipping his tea casually, “you gonna let me take you out on a proper date, sometime?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies flapping around in your stomach. “I’ll go—but only if we take my car. I refuse to drive around town in your tacky truck.”

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

“It’s awful,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It looks it was decorated by a preschooler during arts and crafts.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving in. “Any other requests?”

You pause, lost in thought.

“One more, actually,” you say, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You need to come clean to Mindy and Gerald.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

“Really?” You balk, taken aback by his compliance. “That’s it? But I—I had a whole speech prepared.”

Harry laughs softly, cradling your face with his free hand and kissing you slowly. Your fingers tighten around your mug. When the two of you break apart for air, he shrugs.

“I started considering it after everything that happened last night. Keep your speech, though.” His lips twitch. “You’ll be needing to scold me again in no time, I’m sure.”

Your shoulders shake with a silent giggle. “You’re probably right.”

“Also—” Harry clears his throat, soothing the ache with another sip of tea. “You may want to suggest that they hire an exterminator.”

“An exterminator?” you repeat, blinking in surprise. “But…they don’t have rats. Gerald said that the traps hadn’t been touched.”

“Not rats,” he hums. “Squirrels, I believe. Living in the walls.”

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while, babe—I’ve seen my fair share of pests. Plus,” he clucks his tongue, “they like to chew on wires.”

“Really?” You sigh distantly, pinching your bottom lip. “God, that sucks.”

“It does.” He nods, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. “But you can tell them later.”

“Later?” you say, brows knitting together. “Why not right now?”

“Because,” Harry grunts. You squeal when he crowds you up against your front door. He cups your jaw and tilts your chin up with his thumb, handsome face splitting into an easy, salacious grin.

“Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

~*~

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this piece, please consider donating to my ko-fi! and as always, don’t forget to share your thoughts. thank you bunches <3

[isthisatlantis]

fall this or that

i was tagged by my dear @lolacouldnotcareless (a while ago now im sorry) and @vminsos to do this fall tag! 🌾🍁🍂

pumpkin or apple // cocoa or cider // halloween or thanksgiving // leaf piles or apple picking // hay ride or corn maze // wooly sweater or furry slippers // pumpkin carving or knitting // squash or sweet potato // black cat or bat // skeletons or witches // fake blood or fake spiders // mashed potatoes or stuffing // orange or black // apple pie or maple donuts // marshmallows or candy corn // vampire or werewolf // fireplace or cozy nook // spiced wine or craft beer // candied apples or s'mores // big scarf or oversized hoodie

tagging @lunarhoseok @snowdrop-yoongi @triviaseesavv @supernatural-gleek @sopecore @cabeswters if u want to of course no pressure 🧡

[petrosapian]

Okay got tagged by Jules @vonlipvig :3c

nickname: lol i mean used to go by papa on this website but im realizing so many of my mutuals werent here when my url was papachinga

zodiac: Cancer

height: 5'10 i will not be gaslit into thinking im shorter

last movie I saw: ni idea i havent been watching a lot of movies recently, i feel like a mini series counts, so imma say the 10th kingdom i know the real answer it was a really bad jason segel romcom

last thing i googled: lmao i think i was looking up add drop periods at the school i work at

favourite musician: i feel if i said anyone other than Brandon Flowers i would be lying

song stuck in my head: strawberry shortcake themesong (THAT GIRL'S SO SWEET JUST LIKE HER NAME)

other blogs: i have a few dead side blogs, including an aesthetic blog and a ben 10 incorrect quotes blog

blogs following: 388

amount of sleep: eh i think 6-7? i usually oversleep, meaning i go to bed real late and some how expect myself to wake up at 7 (unrealistic)

lucky number: 7

what am i wearing: baggy jeans, a tank top and slippers

dream job: idk im pretty happy with what im doing right now

dream trip: okay top list of places to go are Ireland, Japan, and Indonesia but im still waiting to go to Argentina again

favourite food: Kabuli Pallou, afghani rice

play an instrument: i took a year of piano when i was like 10

languages: English and i pushing through w that Spanish, I am actually better than I give myself credit for

random fact: if i get it together i will be putting pink streaks in my hair today

describe yourself as aesthetic things: cluttered knicknacks, tangled hair ribbons, plant overgrowth, knit wear, fairy cirlces

im gonna tag anyone who likes this post lmao @collectoroflovelythings @delightful-dreames

[jae-daddy]

Chubby (12)

Jaebum AU series

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / thirteen

masterlist

Pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader Genre: Romance, Drama, Mature, Angst Plot: you are getting bullied, and jaebum decides to help you a/n: at this point, i’m literally just writing for me lol. :) but, hope yall like it party next chapter! not edited

You were back in middle school. The dark blue uniform scattering the cafeteria, but you remained in your little corner trying to go unnoticed. You knew it was pointless, you were too big to hide. You stood like a sore thumb, but there was nothing wrong with pretending there was a blanket of invisibility covering you.

“Hey, y/n,” a girl with short bob haircut sat infront of you. You saw a fresh cut on the corner of her lips, and you instantly lowered your eyes to the table.

She was one of them. One of the girl who would bully you. Well she never explicitly did anything herself, but she was always there. She stood behind the group, you could see her from the floor. Her arms folded, her foot tapping with annoyance, and her eyes wondering else where. She didn’t want to be there while the other girls took turns to hurt you. No, it wasn’t that what was happening to you bothered her, she just bored and wanted to be elsewhere.

You had wanted to be elsewhere too. But you both were stuck there. Stuck as tears fell your eyes, stuck as she looked up at sky, stuck as you looked down and closed your eyes as another kick landed on your stomach.

“Hey!” She called out again. Your eyes snapped to her, not sure how to react. “I’m Nora.”

You didn’t trust her smile. You didn’t trust anything that was going on right now. You didn’t even know what was going on. Your eyes scanned the cafetaria unsurely.

“I’m not with those girls anymore,” she shrugged as she stuck her straw into the pink milk carton. “Those filthy bitches have nothing better to do.”

You just stared at her, still unsure of what to do.

She let out a sigh, as she sat her drink down.

“I won’t lie to you. I didn’t leave by choice.” She looked into your eyes, as she talked. She was a fast talker you noticed. Even with a cut lip, there was something bright about her. “They kicked me out because apparently other people having feelings for you is a crime.”

When you didn’t reply, she added, “Jisuen’s boyfriend started to like me. So instead of dumping that son of a bitch, they decided I deserved to be punished.”

You remained quiet, still not sure what to do or say. You weren’t good at this. No one in this school talked to you unless they were telling you what to do or that you were worthless and not good enough.

“It seems like we’re in the same boat,” she gave you a tight smile. “Let’s look after one another. Two is better then one.” She placed a chocolate biscuit on your plate as offering.

You looked at her, searching for any form of mockery but nothing was there.

You slowly lifted up the biscuit and took a bite.

“There you go,” she smiled. She waited for a moment before continuing with a sigh. “It sucks that they do that to you just because you’re pretty.”

You snorted unable to hold it back, making her be taken a back in surprise, before shaking her head, chuckling.

                     ___________________________________________

You stared at Jin and her fresh new haircut, that brushed her shoulders briskly.

“How do you like it?” She grinned, turning side to side outside your apartment.

You stared at her unable to look away. You felt the ghosts slowly creep up behind you. They wrapped their arms around your waist, their sharp tongue slipping across your neck and into your ear.

It sharply pulled you into the darkness that was churning bigger behind you. You could hear it; you could feel it. Growing, planning, getting ready; increasing every passing second. You were scared, you were frightened of where it tangles would drag you and for how long.

You stared at Jin’s face as it slowly started to morph into someone else’s. JIn’s round eyes, becoming sharp, her noise pointy, her lips smaller with a cut in the corner. Her dead eyes stared at you, and you felt all oxygen leaving your veins, leaving you cold.

“What do think y/n?” Her lips scrowning into a smirk, as she tilted her head. “How do I look?

You tried answering. You tried breathing. You tried to move, but you were stuck; unable to move. The branches moved from your waist, crawling up your chest and around your neck; getting tighter.

“HELP!” She screamed. Her face turning into one of horror. Her short hair frailing around her in panic. “HELP ME Y/N!”

Her screaming resided as she smirked hauntingly at you. Blood spilled from her mouth as a new bruise formed on her cheek.

“We’re meant to be in this forever.”

She reached out and held your shoulder.

You screamed jerking the hand off you as you fell on to the floor. You clenched your eyes shut as your lungs burned breathing in harshly.

“Hey, hey hey,” Jin came down infront of you, her voice gentle and full of concern. “Y/n, its okay, baby.”

She sunk down infront of you holding you in her arms.

The branches snapped out of you, the dark void disappering behind you as you slumped onto JIn. You hugged her tight, crying into her arms.

“What have I done, Jin?” You whimpered trying to control your breathing.

“Y/N?!” Jaebum’s body appeared in the doorway, his chest heaving and eyes frantic. They landed on you; widening as a breathe left him.

“What...” he trailed off softly. “I heard you scream so I...”

“It’s okay, JB,” Jin said for you. “I got this.”

You turned away from Jaebum hiding yourself from him and his eyes. You didn’t want to see pity in his eyes for you. You didn’t want him to see you like this.

“Okay,” Jaebum muttered, you heard his hands hit the frame twice, before he walked away.

                    ___________________________________________

“Are you sure you’ll be okay, y/n?” Jin asked as she zipped up her winter jacket.

You nodded before hugging her. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay, y/n,” she gave you a small smile, before jokingly adding, “Damn, sad y/n sure loves to hug. Maybe you should carry that trait over.”

You rolled your eyes chuckling, before walking out with her.

“You didn’t have to walk me out, I know the way.”

“It’s okay, walk will be nice.” You told her, as you clasped your hands in front of you. She smiled in reply, hugging you tightly before she moved away.

“Text me-- call me if anything happens okay?” Jin told you, sternly looking into your eyes. “It doesn’t matter what time it is.”

You nodded, waving as she walked away, before turning the corner.

You turned, about to walk into the building but hesitated. You didn’t want to go in just yet.

You turned and began walking the other way. You ended up at the look out point where your grandma would take you too.

You sat down on the bench, and pulled the knitted cardigan closer around you. It didn’t stop the cold wind completely, but it helped slightly. It was better than nothing.

You stared down at the orange lights staring to light up in the dusk.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here in so long, Nani,” you said out to your grandma. “I lot has been happening. So much that I forget about it sometimes.

“You remember Jaebum right?” You asked the wind, that began getting chiller as every word left you. “He was here last time with Tuesday. You would’ve loved him. And he would’ve loved your kimchi jigae.”

You smiled softly, before biting your lip to hold back the tears.

“I miss you,” you whispered closing your eyes. “You would’ve been able to tell me what to do and what to say. I am so lost. I don’t know what to do.”

“What’s there to think about? Isn’t everything okay?” A man walking by said into his phone. You stilled for a moment, before chuckling in surprise.

“I guess everything is going well. I am friends with Jaebum, and he has helped with Jenny, and he takes my mind of things.” You muttered a reply, looking down at the dirt, before looking up.

“You would’ve compared him to a prince, Nani,” you said into the wind. “He certainly looks like one.” You chuckled.

“But what if I don’t want to leave,” you looked up to the darkening sky, as stars began sparkling. “What if I don’t deserve him.”

You thought back to the apartment. You thought back to her. You thought back to Nora and her face as she fell to the ground. You thought back to Jaebum looking at you with pity.

“What if there is no happy ending,” you whispered opening your eyes.

Meow.

You looked down to a grey fur ball snuggling to your feet.

“Tuesday?” you gasped, lifting him into your arms. He snuggled in closer making frown, confused. You looked around for Jaebum, but didn’t find anyone.

“Were you planning on escaping?” You cooed, before rubbing your nose against his softness. “Come on buddy, let’s get you home to daddy.”

You bit your tongue as you stood outside to Jaebum’s door.

The cold wind crept up the hem of your long dress, making chills run down your spine.

Tuesday meowed eagerly, almost telling you to hurry up.

You let out a deep breathe, as you knocked on the door. You felt embarrased seening him so soon after he had seen you like that. You wanted to run away, but you knew you shouldn’t.

Something about Jaebum made you want to turn to him. Something made you believe that it would be okay to be with him right now. Something about Jaebum made everything okay.

The door unlocked and a dishelved Jaebum opened it.

His cheeks were rosy pink, his chest heaving as if he had been running.

“Hi,” he greeted you with a toothy grin. “Surprising to see you here!”

You stared at him, as you bit your lip. After a moment, he opened the door wider letting you in.

“Oh, you have Tee!” He exclaimed, his voice super high, making you feel suspicious. You turned around closing the door behind you to find Jaebum’s winter coat dusted with mist.

“Were you out?” You asked, as you walked into the house. You slipped into your pink slippers that Jaebum had bought for you.

“No!” He replied quickly, making you narrow your eyes in suspicion. “I’ve been home all afternoon!”

Jaebum shrugged not looking at you. “Why, something wrong?”

He stepped back and held out his arms in a little taadaa!

The table was set with a ramen and coke, and his laptop showing Twilight.

“Oh wow, Jae,” you couldn’t help but smile, as you looked at him feeling all the tension in your body fade away.

Jaebum scratched the back of his head, as he shrugged.

“I thought a supernatural romantic comedy would be great today,” he breathed in through his teeth, looking at the ground.

“Yes because Twilight is a comedy first.” You chuckled, settling into your place.

Jaebum sat down next to you, his shoulders almost touching yours.

“A true intellectual, as always,” he grinned, hitting play.

It was halfway through the movie when Jaebum talked.

“How was your afternoon?” You stilled for a moment, before biting your lip and nodding.

“It was good after that...” you tralied off, feeling awkward. “Jin wanted to choose an outfit for the party.”

“What did she choose?” Jaebum’s eyes snapped to yours widening excitedly.

“Uh, jeans, a top and a jacket for hers.” You told him, making him frown.

“Wow, such description,” Jaebum shook his head. “But good, dress warmly. You’re like a popcicle.”

You scoffed at him before turning to the screen. A chuckle left you as Edward called Bella a spidermonkey and began flying through the forest. Jaebum joined to, pointing something out making you laugh harder.

You sobered up, and sat back smiling. You felt Jaebum’s eyes on you, and your cheeks began to feel hot.

Meow.

You looked over to Tuesday meowing at the door repeatedly.

“She likes acting like a dog nowadays for some reason. I think its the puppy tiktoks we’ve been watching thats influencing him,” Jaebum shook his head. “You already went out for a walk today, buddy.”

Tuesday hissed at him and ran into the bedroom.

“Wait, how did Tee even get out of your apartment?” You asked Jaebum, looking at him puzzled.

“He... must’ve... have...” Jaebum searched around the house. His frantic eyes landing on different objects for a few seconds before bouncing off. Finally his eyes landed on the windows, and you saw the lightbulb go of in his mind. “He must’ve gotten out the window!”

You nodded, as he breathed out satisfied with himself.

You sat back smiling.

Tuesday jumped from the seventh story, and Jaebum is a good liar.

[unestablishedcommunication]

Hi! So I’m working on a web-series type thing and I want to see what people think about it so far so heres the first few paragraphs of the first chapter! As of now, im calling it “Unestablished Communication,” and it’s about a demigirl person of color who uses neo-pronouns, is a bit chubby, and has hearing aids. Please reblog this or like it if it’s something that sounds interesting to you and please note that this is not the final product and that it might change a lot as I write it. Enjoy! (psst if you want to buy me a ko-fi my link is https://ko-fi.com/unriley)

     Jedi woke up to the same electronic beep kit woke up to every week day; the only difference was that kit wasn't in the same place kit had been most of kits life. The air was much cooler than Jedis' home town of Albuquerque and the air was filled with the distinct smell of damp wood. Kit grabbed kits hearing aids off of kits night stand, and hesitantly rolled out of bed as to not wake up kits mother, who most likely had just fallen asleep after her shift at the hospital.

    Much to Jedi's dismay, but not surprise, one of the many noisy floor boards in the house creaked the second kits feet touched the ground. Jedi cursed under kits breath and cautiously walked to the closet to put on kits favorite outfit for the first day at kits new school. As Jedi was securing kits peridot earrings to kits ears, kit heard the tell tale creaking that greeted every footstep on the second floor. A knock on the door, followed by Jedi's mother easing into the room.

    She looked tired, and was wearing a pair of bunny slippers and a flowery bathrobe.

    "Hi honey," kits mom yawned as he made her way over to Jedi, "I made you some oatmeal when your ready."

  "But mom, you just got off of work, you should-"

   "Seeing my kid off on kits first day at a new school, which is exactly what I'm doing."

   Jedi's mom was putting kits hair, which was the color of the sky on the night of a harvest moon, into the messy bun that suited the high-waisted, black a-line skirt, ivory turtleneck, and loose knitted cardigan.

    "I'm going to go to bed, but I love you!" She exclaimed as she left Jedi's room.

   As kits mom promised, a bowl of oatmeal was waiting on the counter for kit, along with lunch money. Jedi finished kits breakfast and went to the bathroom to brush kits teeth, then grabbed kits back pack and headed to school.

[hamiltorris]

spooky season ~

pumpkin or apple // cocoa or cider // halloween or thanksgiving // leaf piles or apple picking // hay ride or corn maze // woolly sweater or furry slippers // pumpkin carving or knitting // squash or sweet potato // black cat or bat // skeletons or witches // fake blood or fake spiders // mashed potatoes or stuffing // orange or black // apple pie or maple donuts // marshmallows or candy corn // vampire or werewolf // fireplace or cozy nook // spiced wine or craft beer // candied apples or s'mores // big scarf or oversize hoodie

tagged by: @lewisrises thx bestie!

im tagging: tbh i cant think of anyone right now but anyone who sees and wants can do it

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

Could Use Some Love

Call It What You Want (2/?)

Series masterlist

Pairing: Med student!Poe x Reader (college AU)

A/N: This got wayyyy out of hand, and i apologize for nothing. Also this took so long cos i came up with a plot, hated it, then changed the whole plot, hated it again and now i have no plot and im just gonna see where this takes me :( what is canon I don’t her

Chapter summary: Due a broken heater situation, you end up crashing at Rey, Finn and Poe’s residence.

Word count: ~2.7k

You’ve been having an absolutely horrible week. And it is Wednesday. Work had been piling up in your internship firm, as well as in college. You’d barely slept for a total of 3 hours in the last two days and needless to say, you were totally exhausted. You had barely gotten back from work when your supervisor had called you to dump more work on you. 

Great, another sleepless night.

Your tiny apartment was eerily quiet without your roommate Jessika. She told you she was staying over at her boyfriend's place for the night. It wasn’t the first time it had happened but, you hated staying alone in your apartment, especially at night.

The snow falling outside and the temperature rapidly falling in your own house did nothing to improve your mood. You pulled you knitted blanket tighter around yourself as another shiver racked through your body from the cold. Was the heater even working? It had been giving you problems for some time now, you were pretty sure it was already working way past its expectancy. You made a mental note to talk to your landlord about it, turning your attention back to your work.

Minutes pass and it only gets colder. Now it got to the point you couldn’t put your feet on the ground without recoiling. It wasn’t a good sign at all. You reach for your fuzzy slippers and pad across the room, still in your blanket, to the thermostat.

The thermostat display was working fine, but it seemed the heater wasn’t. After several minutes of walking back and forth to the heater and thermostat and several google searches later, you come to the conclusion that your heater was broken. And there was nothing you could do about it at this hour.

Your eyes well up from the frustration, a few tears falling. You try taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, but the cold air only stings your lungs, reminding you of your predicament, mocking you. You go back to the couch, sitting cross-legged and rocking back and forth as you mind reels.

It was too cold for you to spend the night without a working heater. It was times like this that makes you want to smack yourself for not being able to make more friends. All you have is Jessika, who won’t be able to help you out right now, and Rey, who stayed with Finn and Poe in an apartment just nearby. You could ask Rey if you can crash on her couch for the night, but you felt like you were bothering her.

You had never been over to their place, despite knowing them for months now. Finn and Rey had invited you over a few times before but you always had some excuse to not go. You just weren’t that great with people, even if it was people you knew and care about. 

You honestly didn’t know why Rey tried so hard to stick around you. You never made it very easy for anyone to be your friend. Your naturally aloof nature had made sure of it. Jessika has been the only one who had stuck around since middle school, and when both of you ended up in the same college, you jumped at the chance to room with your best friend.

You rub your eyes, picking up your phone. The time shows 1 am as your finger hovers above the call button on Rey’s contact. Just do it you have no choice, you try to convince yourself as you hit the call button.

---

The doorbell rings you stuff a few extra clothing and your laptop in a bag, just as Rey had instructed. You go to open the door, wrapped up in an overcoat, and hoping you don’t look as much of a mess as you feel. But Finn catches sight of your puffy red-rimmed eyes and immediately pulls you into a hug. The warmth is welcoming after feeling cold for so long, and you gladly fall into the embrace.

Thankfully Rey was still awake when you called. The second she had picked up the phone, the tears started flowing freely as the stress of the whole week hit you at once. She had managed to calm you down until you sounded coherent enough to tell her what your problem was. Both Rey and Finn were both willing to let you take up the guestroom in their apartment for as long as you needed. Rey told you she was picking you up and Finn had insisted he come along since it wasn’t safe for the two of you to be alone in this weather. They had basically shut down any apologies you sent their way, insisting it wasn’t any trouble for them. 

“Rey’s waiting in the car,” Finn informs you. You sling your bag onto your shoulder. “You good to go?”

--- 

The first thing you noticed when you stepped into the ridiculously large living room, was the cityscape. Tiny lights twinkling in buildings as the snow fell, softer than feathers. It looked like a scene from the movies. 

You can’t help the woah that you breathe out at the sight before you. You’re aware of exactly how stupid you look standing there, mouth agape, but you can’t help it. The entire apartment looks gorgeous.

Rey giggles at your expression, dragging you along to the guest bedroom. Which, unsurprisingly, is almost as big as your entire apartment. Settling your things on the table, Rey sits on the bed, gesturing for you to take a seat as well.

“You better now?” She asks flinging an arm around your shoulder. “You can stay here as long as you like, don’t worry I’m not expecting you to pay me or anything.” She jokes. “You know you can ask me if you need anything, right?”

It’s an effort not to start sobbing at her kind words. You lean your head against her shoulder. “You’re too nice to me Rey, not everyone would do this for anyone.”

Rey chuckles, “Firstly, you’re not just anyone, you’re one of us now,” she pulls back, holding your face in her hands. “And secondly, you would do the exact same thing if our positions were reversed.” You just nod, too dumb to say anything.

“Finn and Poe stay upstairs. I haven’t Poe since morning, he locked himself in his room, studying for some test I think,” she engulfs you in a bear hug before getting up. “Just knock on my door if you need anything, I’m right next door. And there are some snacks in the kitchen if you’re hungry. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

---

It is 3 am and Poe, utterly exhausted after an entire day of cramming for his hematology test which was probably still going to kick his ass, finally pulls his headphones off his ears. He thinks he surely looks as tired as he feels. The whole room is a mess of books, notes and granola bar wrappers strewn around, an empty coffee pot and mug on the table. He tells himself he’d clean it up tomorrow, after getting some sleep and food in his system. His stomach growls, reminding him of his hunger again and he collects the coffee pot and the wrappers and sets off to the kitchen to get something to eat before heading to bed.

His phone lays forgotten on his bedside table. He doesn’t feel like picking it up, already anticipating the number of missed texts and calls he would've received from his girlfriend. Studying medicine was hard work and time-consuming. It was easier to just pretend like his phone didn’t exist sometimes rather than try to explain to Sarah why he needed the whole day to study. He’d deal with her wrath later.

Poe sighs heavily treading down the staircase. The living room is dark and empty as expected, but there’s light coming from the kitchen. A small part of him couldn’t help but feel thankful for that. He wasn’t scared of the dark per se, but the recent horror movie had led him to question some of his life decisions. Like whether it was worth being friends with Finn and Rey. He probably would’ve walked out of the theater within less than an hour if you weren’t there, holding his hand. The memory brings a smile to his face.

Imagine his surprise when he sees you. He expected to see Finn or Rey at the kitchen, but there you are sitting at the dining table, a frown on your face as you click away at your laptop.

Was he hallucinating?

—-

You are sitting cross-legged on one of the dining table chairs. Your laptop sat on the table, alongside a few detail plans spread out, as you edit your drawings. The table in the guest room wasn’t big enough to fit the large plan drawings. So you had moved to the dining table since everyone had already gone to sleep. 

You feel like you have stepped into an alternate universe where everything feels new to you. The view of the city through the full height glass window was just so breathtaking, but the large living room only feels emptier and somehow colder than your small apartment, even with a working heater. Regardless, you slowly slip into your own rhythm getting more accustomed to the almost eerie silence.

You startle when Poe calls out your name. “What are you doing here?” You look up and oh god he looks adorable. His hair is tousled and he pushes a few curls back from his face trying to tame it. He’s smiling at you, brown eyes sparkling, and it makes you feel all soft and warm inside and- and he just asked you a question. And you are just staring at him like a creep instead of answering.

“Oh, hey Poe!” You try not to cringe at yourself, hoping he hadn’t noticed you staring. Poe grimaces when you explain your whole heater situation to him.

“Well, I hope you’re comfortable,” he says. “Don’t mind me, I’ll be back in my room soon enough,” he smiles again, moving to walk past you. You hear him rummaging around in the kitchen for a few moments.

You mentally slap yourself, feeling like such an asshole. He has a girlfriend, for god’s sake. No matter how much Finn and Rey seemed to hate his girlfriend, you still feel guilty for thinking of Poe as anything other than a friend. You cuddled him in a movie theater, christ. You resist the urge to slap yourself on your forehead. What were you thinking?

For someone who just said ‘don’t mind me’, he makes it pretty hard to ignore his presence. He is back at the table and takes a seat, curiously frowning at the plan laid out before you. His cereal bowl is on the table before him, carefully placed away from the papers you had spread out. You continue your work, trying not to get too distracted by the man beside you. 

“What are you doing?” Poe asks you. So you explain to him the long-winded process of the schematic drawing before you and how you need to add in the changes marked out to the 3D model in your laptop. You’re pretty sure you are rambling halfway through it, but Poe seemed to be interested enough, occasionally asking you more questions here and there. Explaining your work becomes complaining about it and soon you find yourself exchanging internship horror stories with him.

Halfway through your conversation, you hear a patter of tiny footsteps and the cutest corgi you’ve ever seen emerges from the hall. Poe immediately perks up at its arrival scooping the ecstatic canine into his arms. “Buddy! Why aren’t you sleeping?” The corgi paws at his shirt, barking and licking his face. Poe laughs, scratching its fur, “I missed you too, buddy.” You can’t take your eyes off the scene unfolding before you, heart swelling at the interaction, you’re sure you’re making heart eyes at them.

Once the corgi calms down enough for Poe to comfortably hold it in his arms, he turns his attention back to you. “This is Beebee,” he introduces his corgi to you, “My son,” You laugh and Beebee tilts his head inquisitively, looking up at you with his sparkling brown eyes. Like father like son, you think.

The bowl of cereal lays forgotten on the table as the two of you continue chatting. Well, he does most of the talking as you continued on with your work, your attention mostly focused on Poe regardless. He absentmindedly pets Beebee, who is now dozing off on his lap.

“He’s a big baby, can’t live alone. Honestly, I think anyone would go insane if they lived here alone,” Poe concludes his story of how Finn had practically begged him and Rey to come to live with him. Poe is your senior by two years and had been staying in a dorm before Finn started college.

“Big baby huh? Says the one who can’t watch a demon on a screen without looking like he’s going to cry,” you snicker, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“They’re just really scary okay? I don’t how you can sleep after watching things like that,”. He grimaces, holding Beebee closer. “Great, now I’m thinking about demons,”

“Oh no! Quick, think about something else,”

“About what? Ask me something,”

“Um... okay, how did you meet Finn and Rey?” you ask him.

“Oh that’s a long story,” and so he begins the tale of how both his parents, Shara Bey and Kes, were in the Air Force where they met and fell in love and-

“Wait, are you giving me your entire biography?” You interrupt him.

“No no, it’s relevant, trust me,” he assures you before continuing. Queue the entrance of a new character named Han, who was their best friend and was married to Leia Organa, who would become his godmother-

“Wait, Leia Organa?” You gasp, “Senator Organa is your godmother?”

“Great so you’ve heard of her-” you don’t even let him finish his sentence again.

“Heard of her? I've been a huge fan since the time she crushed the Vader dude during that debate,” he chuckles before continuing.

The story takes a somber turn when he tells you that his mother passed away due to an illness when he was 8 years old. He quickly skims over that part before telling you about going to live with his godmother in an obscenely rich neighborhood, since his father was away too much due to his work. Leia’s son Ben, apparently, was the resident asshole of the place, who hated Poe for reasons unknown to him. So Poe had resorted to making friends with the two younger children living across the house instead.

It’s an endearing story, which could’ve been told with lesser detail, in half the time. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy listening to him talk.

It’s a miracle that you are almost done with your work. Its almost 4.30 am and it occurs to you that you’ve been keeping Poe for quite some time. You see him trying to stifle a yawn in between words as he tries to narrate the story of how Finn had broken his arm trying to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night. 

“Poe, don’t you have classes in the morning? Don’t you need to sleep?”

Poe feigns offense, “Am I boring you?”

“No,” you laughed. “I stay up all alone sometimes, and it gets very lonely, so thank you for keeping me company.” You answer sincerely. You are pretty sure Poe is beaming, but that could also be the side effect of not getting much sleep for days. Well at least you can sleep in tomorrow, and the guestroom bed looked really inviting. “But, you also really need to sleep,” 

“Well my classes only start after lunch tomorrow- I mean today, so I still have time to sleep,” he stifles another yawn with the back of his hand. “Actually, you’re right, I need to sleep,”

BB8 is asleep, snoring lightly on his lap when he finally relents. He scoops up the corgi in one hand and the mostly empty bowl of soggy cereal on the other, dropping it in the kitchen sink.

“Good night, or is it morning already?” He flashes you a grin that makes your insides flutter.

You chuckled, “See you later, Poe,”

You’re so fucked.

---

The Dameron taglist (open):

@writefightandflightclub​ @arkofblake​ @yougottakeeponkeepinon​ @multifandomlife22​ @skymerons​ @smol-peter-parker​ @rae-rae-patcha​ @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ @spider-starry​ @hkmultifandom​

[pbandjesse]

I wish today wasnt over. Last I said last night this weekend is going to feel like a 30 minute lunch break and I wont feel any better and it sucks. And it doesnt help that I didnt sleep well again last night. But it wasnt a bad day. I just wasnt as productive as I wanted,and I slept in until almost 11 because I felt so crappy. I just want to feel better. 

When I got up I felt a little off because it was so late in the morning. I got dressed and felt cute but my hair felt very greasy. I put dry shampoo in it and moved on. I had breakfast and worked on my knitting a little. But after an hour I just wasnt feeling it today. That was okay. I watched a video and knit and had breakfast and it was good. 

I wanted to try playing around with dying leather. I used the dye that I got with Jess last week and painted my tan boots that I never wear. If anything they just look worn in now, but maybe Ill actually wear them now that they arent so bright. Well have to see as they dry more. 

Around 1 I decided I would go for a drive. I said goodbye to James and headed to savers. It was a nice drive. I had a good podcast to listen to. I parked and walked the one bag of clothes to donate and got my coupon. Which I didnt end up needing because my account already had a coupon on it. Sweet. 

I did have a nice time walking around. I got another birthday clown bear. It was for april (and James got me a february in the mail today too) which I thought I didnt have but I did. Aw well. I actually found two of the april ones so that would have been funny to have three. 

I also got a little plant growing kit for edible flowers for James to grow. And I got a few really excellent patterned dressed Im pretty jazzed about.  A long brown floral one. A short tshirt one for at home comfort. And I got this beautiful white one with embroidery that I will probably never wear but I love and couldnt help myself. Very pleased with my purchases. 

After a few more circles around the store I headed out. I decided to get tacobell for lunch. I accidently hit the curb but it was okay. I checked, didnt hurt the car. I had my tacos in the parking lot. And then decided I would check the five below for squishes. 

I actually ended up going to two five belows with no luck. They had the disney ones. Which are fine, but not really my thing. No micros or nothing. But that was alright. I got stickers and candy and a fluffy pair of sandal slippers that are very silly but I love. But I was very tired so it was time to go home. 

I went the back way home so I didnt go on the highway. Only took a few extra minutes but it was nice to have different scenery. 

When I got back here I got the mail and brought everything up. I was excited to find one of the harnesses I ordered came, along with that other birthday clown bear.  And an apron I dont think I ordered? Like Ill take it but I have no idea where it came from and if it was a mistake or something. Very strange. Its a nice apron at least. One of those linen cross back ones. It will be good for camp. 

I tried on all the new things and took tags off of everything. I put things away. And went to lay in the studio for a long while. 

I actually had the sun set around me. And only got up when James was done work at 6. 

I came to sit in the dungeon with them and they made us quesadillas. I watched James play video games for a while, watched tiktoks. They made peanutbutter cookies that still tasted like cookie dough.Which was awesome.  And washed my hair. I feel very tired now and I really hope I can just sleep tonight but I dont exactly have high hopes. 

I hope you sleep alright though. Tomorrow were going to go have cake at James's parents for Tucker's birthday. He gets carrot cake for his birthday cake and I love carrot cake so that will be nice. I hope the rest of the day is nice too. Goodnight everyone. 

[callmehopeless]

So in my sick times I needed something to keep my lil feets warm and so im wearing these slippers @maskheraid knitted me! All the way from WV. They're not a matching pair because I could only find one of each right now so I'm like, fuck it, style icon

These slippers made a 15,000km trip to see me and are still snug as ever :3

I love ONE (1) Mara

[annafm]

(MEDALION RAHIMI, NONBINARY) - Have you seen ANNABEL MAJIDI? ANNA is in HER/THEIR JUNIOR year. The LITERATURE + INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISM MAJOR is 22 years old & is a SCORPIO. People say SHE/THEY are DILIGENT, ADROIT, CYNICAL and AUSTERE. Rumors say they’re a member of WINTHROP. I heard from the gossip blog that THEY ARE FAKING BEING A PSYCHIC. (JAMES. 21. EST. THEY/THEM.)

hllo this is anna i hvnt .. played her in a while <3 bt thts okay i think she is very fun 2 play bt like in the way tht she is <3 serious n mean a bit ... bt its okay .. LHKDSGFHLKSDHLKG im sorry this is long this is. an old intro i hvnt rly changed much >.>

CAR ACCIDENT, INJURY TW

aesthetic.

falling feathers darkened at the tips, tweed and pinstripes, red trenchcoats and plaid skirts, worn ballet shoes covered in dust, smudged eyeliner and unruly hair, boxing gloves, ornate canes and pain medication, bandaged hands, classical music floating throughout an empty ballroom, worn jackets and awkwardly cut t-shirts, spilled ink and stained hands, glasses skewed, sneers and jabs, constant fighting, smog in a city, spotlights and encores, piles of books and a long line, backless dresses and sitting alone at a bar, wariness.

basic.

full name: annabel odeda majidi

nickname(s): anna, annie (father only), anna-banana (father only)

b.o.d. - october 31st, 1997

label(s): the catalyst, the charlatan, the minefield, etc.

height: 5′6″

hometown: nyc, ny

sexuality: bisexual

pinterest

stats

favorite song: you’re dead, norma tanega / now, your hope and compassion is gone / you’ve sold out your dream to the world / stay dead, stay dead, stay dead / you’re dead and outta this world

background.

born to two high schoolers who never married, firoj majidi and parvana banai. they were head over heels for each other - when firoj graduated he took up two jobs alongside community college to support their family, until parvana graduated and took on the arts.

growing up was tough - living in the city wasn’t cheap, parvana’s art rarely sold and the two often went without eating in order to provide for annabel. as a child she’d often wear hand-me-downs from extended family.

was taught to be a hard worker and it was reflected in her schoolwork - anna excelled in all her classes but especially english. her love for writing grew at a young age, and as a child she saved up enough money to buy herself proper journals.

the only thing that she grew more passionate towards than writing was ballet - she caught the image of girls flying through the air and landing on their toes in the window of a dance studio on a walk home from school one day and that was it - something clicked inside of her.

that same day she would spend hours prancing about their tiny apartment, trying to mimic what she’d seen. it was easy to spot the passion anna had for the dance - and within a few months they had saved up enough money for a month’s worth of lessons.

anna was ecstatic - her slippers were old and found in the back of a thrift store by an odd miracle, but she put her all into the lessons regardless. she was quick to pick up on each move, and by the end of the month it was clear that anna had a natural talent.

parvana picked up a job in order for them to keep affording the lessons, month after month - they weighed down on their pockets, but it kept anna happy.

flash forward a few years - life was good. money was still a struggle but they were tight knit.

or rather, anna thought they were tight knit.

firoj and parvana split up when anna was twelve - an event that rocked the young girl’s world, something that she couldn’t understand. they had kept up a front of love when anna was home from school or ballet - but behind doors, they had been growing apart.

anna viewed their separation as parvana running off with another man - an art collector who had a fascination with paravana’s paintings. she viewed this as the end of the world. she viewed this as the death of love.

when anna was twelve, she swore she would never fall in love - refused to believe in its existence. she couldn’t wrap her mind around the simple separation.

her father got a third job in order to keep up with payments, and anna pushed herself in both ballet and school - not being able to handle an empty apartment. she decided to get a job - to help ease her father, but was too young.

so anna decided to do what any average 12 year old would do. she started scamming people.

she’d sell store-bought lemonade as if it were homemade, stole ceramics from art class and sold them to neighbors. she found an old girl scouts uniform in the back of a goodwill and for the next month, she sold knock-off girl scout cookies from the dollar store - going door to door.

her personality had changed drastically - anna went from a sweet, optimistic girl with warm brown eyes and an infectious laugh to cold, calculated, and downright cruel. she knew what she wanted and how to get it.

she got an invitation to a prestigious private school, full scholarship, before she hit high school - originally wanted to reject it as the thought of being surrounded by new york’s richest teens was appalling, but their ballet program was a one-way ticket into the american ballet theatre. anna ultimately accepted the scholarship.

high school was immediately hell for her - pretentious rich kids who all shared a collective brain cell and her secondhand uniform being a prime target for them.

ballet got extremely competitive - anna was a threat to every dancer in their program, bullying and sabotage became standard - but anna retaliated when possible.

this all, however, suddenly stopped when anna picked up her latest scam: faking psychic. through a small network of ‘bees’ she’d pay to gather information (gossip, rumors, etc. etc.) she was able to accurately ~see~ into students’ past, present, and potentially future affairs. the money was very worth it.

from that point forward, people were intimidated by her.

when anna was 16 she was handpicked to join the american ballet theatre’s studio company, alongside 11 other lucky individuals. her dream from that point forward was to become the youngest principal ballerina for abt - and she was going to start by winning over the role of clara in their production of the nutcracker.

she was 17 when she was chosen, much to the dismay of the other girls. she had momentarily quit her ‘psychic’ business in order to dedicate the entirety of her time towards rehearsals & practice.

the final week before her first performance as clara, anna got into a car accident heading home after another tiresome rehearsal. knocked unconscious, anna woke up three days later with no recollection of the accident - and her leg freshly operated on.

it was a devastating event that should had killed her - maybe she would had been better off if it had - but instead, it had effectively destroyed any chances of her dancing professionally.

it took two months of extensive physical therapy for anna to walk again - now relying heavily on a cane.

with ptsd and depression weighing heavily on her shoulders, anna turned back to writing - mostly as a coping mechanism, but it soon became the fierce passion it once was when she was younger.

for the remainder of her high school life, anna dedicated the majority of her time towards recovery, her writing, and directing her school’s theatre productions. oh - and claiming that almost dying had given her the gift of mediumship. it wasn’t too far off from her psychic claims - her peers believed it well enough to either stay away, or pay her for a small amount of comfort.

decided to attend yates for their reputation despite her hatred for pretentious schools (very ironic because she herself is pretentious) & also. she had a scholarship <3 so. 

in the midst of writing her first book that’s based heavily on her experiences as a low income student at a private school but like. she’s side-eying all these societies and seeing a Big Money Grab if she were to. write abt them instead

still can’t dance any longer, but she works as a ballet assistant for one of the dance instructors & still tends to barge her way into theatre rehearsals to <3 give her unwarranted opinion

personality & facts.

she’s not the friendliest person. knows what she wants and how to get it, and will not hesitate to use people or push them out of her way in order to achieve her goals.

her cutthroat nature was the reason for her success in academics and dance - tends to intimidate the students in the ballet classes she helps out in.

horribly stubborn - if she’s got an idea of you already in her mind, then it’s hard to convince her otherwise.

still uses a cane - in fact, she can’t really walk without it - unless she wants to be in pain.

it’s sturdy, ornate, and pretty fucking solid. doubles as a weapon if need be - has definitely … hit people with it before, though she’s calmed down now that she’s a little older.

used to be very angry, very defensive as a teenager - is still the same, just … less intense. will not hesitate to speak her mind and let her opinions known - especially in the face of injustice.

doesn’t really have the best … relationship with authority, mainly because of where she was raised and her con-artist businesses. tends to be snarky and sarcastic to anybody in charge - or really, anybody in general.

pretty distrusting, pretty emotionless on the outside, doesn’t like to be seen as weak or somebody to be pitied. keeps herself closely guarded and doesn’t really let others ‘inside’ due to her own comfort levels.

she’ll sleep around but dating is out of the question, for the most part - she’s been on a few blind dates, a few casual get-togethers - but she’s always the one to break things off. is more of a careful hook-up kind of gal.

still does her psychic medium business !! sometimes she wonders if she’s a bad person because of it - but ultimately, it’s on her customers for believing in all that nonsense anyway. anna herself is a skeptic - doesn’t believe in anything unless she can see it and feel it.

is actually … a pretty sentimental person, doesn’t take anything she’s got for granted, and is hugely appreciative of her father. sends him money when she can. hasn’t spoken to her mother in years - pretty sure she’s got a step / half-sibling or two but she’s never met them.

a lone wolf and likes it that way, but she isn’t super opposed to friendship - even if she won’t necessarily call anybody a friend. appreciates others who are similar to her - got their head on right, and knows what they want in life.

has a pretty bad fear of driving - will uber if she needs to go anywhere - even then, being in cars makes her pretty anxious. still has ptsd-induced panic attacks, though she’s managed them pretty well.

doesn’t really do drugs! will smoke weed to ease the ache and her nerves, but otherwise she only takes what is prescribed for her. doesn’t drink anything hard, either. big fan of beer and wine. probably gets wine drunk home alone late at night … like … two times a week.

goes between being high strung and uncaring - she’s not especially moody ( rather, is just consistently angry for whatever reasons ) but she definitely tries to bottle everything up.

probably keeps pepper spray on her at all times, even though she’s got her cane. has cat ear brass knuckles on her keychain - took advantage of the archery club at her private school. she’s not paranoid, she just likes being prepared.

has a soft spot for children, animals, and soft women. kind of person who will put herself in the line of danger in order to protect others - even if she doesn’t necessarily know them too well.

also the kind of person who’ll set something on fire - or do something because you’ve told her not to. incredibly spiteful when wronged. will raise hell if need be.

morally ambiguous tbh.

wanted connections.

who do u think i am ;; either uh. people who have seen her around campus being a bit of a freak like <3 kick someone’s tire in a small fit of rage <3 or spend 20 minutes trying to coax a cat near her so she could pet it <3 or having a that’s so raven moment <3 or someone who tried to help her out with something and she was like. excuse me. what the fuck. get away from me freak loser. maybe threatened them.

slowburn but make it evil ;; uh. when i played her as older she hd a plot where she <3 ws engaged n then broke it off bcos her fiance cheated <3 so i wld like another. plot where she actually <3 tries to enjoy someone else’s company and presence and it just ends up hurting her n reaffirming her idea tht love is? fake n dumb n stupid. thank u.

ykno ... a little dash of spice ... ;; uh. yknow just hookups. hateships <3 or they never talk abt what happened <3 or an awkward drunk one night stand <3 maybe a pregnancy scare and shes like Ah. motherhood Scares me. because she <3 hates her own mother <3 LDSLKFHLGSHLK. it leaves their relationship rly weird the whole ordeal ... maybe even just a blind date <3 or someone she ghosted

read my future ;; customers very classic uh. just people who come to her for her psychic readings <3 and her uh. talking to the dead <3 but also alternately. skeptics ?? people suspicious of her ?? very epic. 

like actually Die? ;; enemies. she hates them so bad. maybe its one-sided. maybe theyre an annoyance. maybe she annoys them? very bad not very good. 

and we dance dance dance, dance dance dance <3 ;; this is just. fr ballet students. or, hold up, consider this: someone who recognizes her frm this. very tragic event where she cld no longer b a ballerina bc i think it ws. like not the Biggest deal bt if ur muse ran in private school circles ykno ??

pet the feral cat ;; these r the soft <3 normal connections <3 someone she’s soft for / protective of. friends that she doesn’t completely hate. 

i Do Not Know ;; i will. take anything. please. weed dealers, people she’s totally sus about for no reason. she steals and reads their mail. they have been rivals for years. they hv a special bond. they r strangers but they get stuck in an elevator. she’s tutoring them bt she wont let them take a break n she keeps making them recite fucking. shakespeare. anything is sexy and fun n cool

[almightanna]

cisfemale — ever hear people say ANNABEL DE LA ROSA looks a lot like ADRIA ARJONA? I think SHE is about 30, so it doesn’t really work. The AUTHOR / BALLET INSTRUCTOR has lived in Livingstone for SIX MONTHS. They can be DILIGENT, but they can also be CYNICAL. I think ANNA might be A TIER 1 SHEPHERD. ( snot goblin. 20. est. she/they. )

i’m sry this took ... so long to put out ... ive been rly lazy these past few days but !! she is Here and she is Ready. i haven’t played her in a few months and last time she was a junior in high school so !! forgive me. but she’s a very old muse and has gone thru ... several fc changes. anyways !! please give this a LIKE if you’d like for me to slide into ur ims. 

TW: POVERTY, DIVORCE SORT OF, CAR ACCIDENT, TRAUMATIC INJURIES, MENTIONS OF DEATH, GRIEF.

a e s t h e t i c s

falling feathers darkened at the tips, leather jackets and pinstripes, red trenchcoats and plaid skirts, worn ballet shoes covered in dust, smudged eyeliner and unruly hair, boxing gloves, ornate canes and pain medication, bandaged hands, classical music floating throughout an empty ballroom, bomber jackets and cropped tees, spilled ink and stained hands, glasses skewed, sneers and jabs, constant fighting, smog in a city, spotlights and encores, piles of books and a long line, backless dresses and sitting alone at a bar, wariness.

general info !!

full name: annabel maritza de la rosa

nickname(s): anna, annie (hates), anna banana (father, exclusively)

b.o.d. - october 31st. scorpio child.

label(s): the catalyst, the charlatan, the crepehanger, the minefield

height: 5′7″

hometown: nyc, ny

sexuality: bisexual

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biography !!

born to two high schoolers who never married, mathías de la rosa and leonora nieves. they were head over heels for each other - when mathías graduated he took up two jobs alongside community college to support their family, until leonora graduated and took on the arts.

growing up was tough - living in the city wasn’t cheap, leonora’s art rarely sold and the two often went without eating in order to provide for annabel. as a child she’d often wear hand-me-downs from extended family.

was taught to be a hard worker and it was reflected in her schoolwork - anna excelled in all her classes but especially english. her love for writing grew at a young age, and as a child she saved up enough money to buy herself proper journals. 

the only thing that she grew more passionate towards than writing was ballet - she caught the image of girls flying through the air and landing on their toes in the window of a dance studio on a walk home from school one day and that was it - something clicked inside of her.

that same day she would spend hours prancing about their tiny apartment, trying to mimic what she’d seen. it was easy to spot the passion anna had for the dance - and within a few months they had saved up enough money for a month’s worth of lessons.

anna was ecstatic - her slippers were old and found in the back of a thrift store by an odd miracle, but she put her all into the lessons regardless. she was quick to pick up on each move, and by the end of the month it was clear that anna had a natural talent.

leonora picked up a job in order for them to keep affording the lessons, month after month - they weighed down on their pockets, but it kept anna happy.

flash forward a few years - life was good. money was still a struggle but they were tight knit.

or rather, anna thought they were tight knit.

mathías and leonora split up when anna was twelve - an event that rocked the young girl’s world, something that she couldn’t understand. they had kept up a front of love when anna was home from school or ballet - but behind doors, they had been growing apart.

anna viewed their separation as leonora running off with another man - an art collector who had a fascination with leonora’s paintings. she viewed this as the end of the world. she viewed this as the death of love.

when anna was twelve, she swore she would never fall in love - refused to believe in its existence. she couldn’t wrap her mind around the simple separation.

her father got a third job in order to keep up with payments, and anna pushed herself in both ballet and school - not being able to handle an empty apartment. she decided to get a job - to help ease her father, but was too young.

so anna decided to do what any average 12 year old would do. she started scamming people.

she’d sell store-bought lemonade as if it were homemade, stole ceramics from art class and sold them to neighbors. she found an old girl scouts uniform in the back of a goodwill and for the next month, she sold knock-off girl scout cookies from the dollar store - going door to door.

her personality had changed drastically - anna went from a sweet, optimistic girl with warm brown eyes and an infectious laugh to cold, calculated, and downright cruel. she knew what she wanted and how to get it.

she got an invitation to a prestigious private school, full scholarship, before she hit high school - originally wanted to reject it as the thought of being surrounded by new york’s richest teens was appalling, but their ballet program was a one-way ticket into the american ballet theatre. anna ultimately accepted the scholarship.

high school was immediately hell for her - pretentious rich kids who all shared a collective brain cell and her secondhand uniform being a prime target for them.

ballet got extremely competitive - anna was a threat to every dancer in their program, bullying and sabotage became standard - but anna retaliated when possible.

this all, however, suddenly stopped when anna picked up her latest scam: faking psychic. through a small network of ‘bees’ she’d pay to gather information (gossip, rumors, etc. etc.) she was able to accurately ~see~ into students’ past, present, and potentially future affairs. the money was very worth it.

from that point forward, people were intimidated by her.

when anna was 16 she was handpicked to join the american ballet theatre’s studio company, alongside 11 other lucky individuals. her dream from that point forward was to become the youngest principal ballerina for abt - and she was going to start by winning over the role of clara in their production of the nutcracker.

she was 17 when she was chosen, much to the dismay of the other girls. she had momentarily quit her ‘psychic’ business in order to dedicate the entirety of her time towards rehearsals & practice.

the final week before her first performance as clara, anna got into a car accident heading home after another tiresome rehearsal. knocked unconscious, anna woke up three days later with no recollection of the accident - and her leg freshly operated on.

it was a devastating event that should had killed her - maybe she would had been better off if it had - but instead, it had effectively destroyed any chances of her dancing professionally.

it took two months of extensive physical therapy for anna to walk again - now relying heavily on a cane.

with ptsd and depression weighing heavily on her shoulders, anna turned back to writing - mostly as a coping mechanism, but it soon became the fierce passion it once was when she was younger.

for the remainder of her high school life, anna dedicated the majority of her time towards recovery, her writing, and directing her school’s theatre productions. oh - and claiming that almost dying had given her the gift of mediumship. it wasn’t too far off from her psychic claims - her peers believed it well enough to either stay away, or pay her for a small amount of comfort.

went to columbia after graduation on a full scholarship - it’s one of her few sources of pride - where she earned her dual degree in english & investigative journalism ( mostly because she didn’t know what she wanted to do )

wrote and published a book based heavily on her experiences as a scholarship student at a private school - YA fiction, essentially - mostly just to dip her toes in the water and become established as an author. surprisingly - the book was a hit, and has written three more in the form of a small series. she also wrote a small book on what it’s like being a ‘psychic medium’.

annabel only came to livingstone after the apner family had left her a hefty email - pleading with her to connect to their dead son. it was in livingstone that annabel heard of the watershed app - and it was from there that her interest was peaked. she immediately found herself involved as a tier 1 shepherd.

she’s partially there to take notes - to learn as much about the app as she can - and partially to strengthen and build her side-business, though she had thought she was retired. the con, however, is too great to resist. essentially - she wants to become a high enough tier to learn the dirt on everybody, and then use that for her psychic business. 

decided to become a dance instructor due to her experience as a ballerina, but because she can’t really ... dance, has assistants that help her.

personality !!

lives in a semi-decent apartment downtown where the elevator would break every other week until she threatened her landlord and it was magically fixed permanently  :^)

that being said - she’s not the friendliest person. knows what she wants and how to get it, and will not hesitate to use people or push them out of her way in order to achieve her goals.

her cutthroat nature was the reason for her success in academics and dance - her students are all terrified of her, and rightfully so. she teaches dancers between the ages of 16-24. while incredibly hard on them - she’d rip someone a new one if they tried to hurt any of her students.

horribly stubborn - if she’s got an idea of you already in her mind, then it’s hard to convince her otherwise.

still uses a cane - in fact, she can’t really walk without it - unless she wants to be in pain.

it’s sturdy, ornate, and pretty fucking solid. doubles as a weapon if need be - has definitely ... hit people with it before, though she’s calmed down now that she’s older.

used to be very angry, very defensive as a teenager and young adult - is still the same, just ... less intense. will not hesitate to speak her mind and let her opinions known - especially in the face of injustice.

doesn’t really have the best ... relationship with authority, mainly because of where she was raised and her con-artist businesses. tends to be snarky and sarcastic to anybody in charge - or really, anybody in general. 

pretty distrusting, pretty emotionless on the outside, doesn’t like to be seen as weak or somebody to be pitied. keeps herself closely guarded and doesn’t really let others ‘inside’ due to her own comfort levels.

swore off love when she was 12 and during a fluke mid-twenties, wound up engaged. called off the engagement when she found her groom-to-be and her bridesmaid-slash-cousin together. very classic - very re-enforcing of a few of her greatest fears.

she’ll sleep around but dating is out of the question, for the most part - she’s been on a few blind dates, a few casual get-togethers - but she’s always the one to break things off. is more of a careful hook-up kind of gal.

still does her psychic medium business !! sometimes she wonders if she’s a bad person because of it - but ultimately, it’s on her customers for believing in all that nonsense anyway. anna herself is a skeptic - doesn’t believe in anything unless she can see it and feel it.

her apartment is still half-packed, half-unpacked, because she honestly cannot be bothered. got out the essentials and that was it. still has her ballet shoes, still has all of her awards for competitions she’s won - they’re just in a box tucked away somewhere labeled ‘do not open’.

is actually ... a pretty sentimental person, doesn’t take anything she’s got for granted, and is hugely appreciative of her father. sends him money when she can. hasn’t spoken to her mother in years - pretty sure she’s got a step / half-sibling or two but she’s never met them. 

a lone wolf and likes it that way, but she isn’t super opposed to friendship - even if she won’t necessarily call anybody a friend. appreciates others who are similar to her - got their head on right, and knows what they want in life.

has a pretty bad fear of driving - will uber if she needs to go anywhere - even then, being in cars makes her pretty anxious. still has ptsd-induced panic attacks, though she’s managed them pretty well.

doesn’t really do drugs! will smoke weed to ease the ache and her nerves, but otherwise she only takes what is prescribed for her. doesn’t drink anything hard, either. big fan of beer and wine. probably gets wine drunk home alone late at night ... like ... two times a week.

goes between being high strung and uncaring - she’s not especially moody ( rather, is just consistently angry for whatever reasons ) but she definitely tries to bottle everything up.

probably keeps pepper spray on her at all times, even though she’s got her cane. has a gun in her apartment, cat ear brass knuckles on her keychain. she’s not paranoid, she just likes being prepared.

kind of wants to write a novel based off of watershed so! she takes a lot of notes - tends to be very observant.

has a soft spot for children, animals, and soft women. kind of person who will put herself in the line of danger in order to protect others - even if she doesn’t necessarily know them too well.

also the kind of person who’ll set something on fire - or do something because you’ve told her not to. incredibly spiteful when wronged. will raise hell if need be.

morally ambiguous tbh.

wanted connections !!

maybe ... a roommate? i imagine her living alone but i also like the idea of having roommate so :^)

she’s sort of new in town so ! acquaintances. people who’ve seen her in town and are curious. people who’ve seen her like ... kick someone’s tire in a small fit of rage or spend 20 minutes trying to coax a cat into coming near her so she could pet it.

fans of her books !!

someone from new york who recognizes her from whatever !! whether it’s from newspaper details of her incident, her legacy at her private school, someone who went to the same college as her, her legacy as a ballerina before her incident, etc. etc.

has taken up boxing recently - so somebody whose helping her at the gym?

someone who tried to like. help her cross the road or something because they saw her with her cane and she yelled at them so now they’re in this weird spot.

students !! if somebody does ballet - she might be teaching them.

alternately, one of her assistants !!

someone she’s soft for for whatever reason :/

hookups !! preferably mid-20s to like. late-30s. she’s not a cougar, i’m sorry :(

somebody who wants her to be a cougar. and she just has to keep rejecting them.

customers who come to her for psychic readings and like. comfort in the form of talking to the dead.

people skeptical of her !! maybe trying to ruin her in some way.

other shepherds. someone higher up that she’s trying to manipulate in some way for her own benefits.

a drunk one night stand that neither wants to talk about.

a pregnancy scare with another, separate one night stand! it turned out to be nothing, but there was some. weirdness. between them afterwards.

a blind date or two dnfjgkmh

someone she ghosted :/

someone she’s like, protected from a creep at a bar or a club ! and now they feel indebted towards her and she’s just like uuuh no. stop.

annoyances !!

like ... maybe a pal or two, or three. mainly just people she gets along with !!

on the other end - something where they just. despise each other for whatever reason. pure hatred.

hatred but make it sexy.

a dealer because even though she can get medical marijuana ... it’s good to have a lil extra on ya :)

people She’s suspicious of for whatever reason - someone she caught doing something. suspicious. untrustworthy.

someone where their mail keeps getting mixed up.

uuh really im down for anything !!