#i feel like i trained myself to hear them as a background noise while i studied/read/did other things

[lenievi]

kinda obsessed with Czech lyrics for these (from Confrontation):

Monsieur le Maire / You'll wear a different chain

you wanted to stand above / you wanted to be my master

--

You must think me mad / I've hunted you across the years / Men like you can never change / A man such as you

That had to be a joke! / You'd escape me for a hundred miles again / Neither of us has changed / Valjean nor I

--

I am warning you Javert / I'm a stronger man by far / There is power in me yet / My race is not yet run

May Javert beware / why ask for trouble / I have more than enough power / I'm a grizzly so I beg your pardon

---

"I'm a grizzly" <3 :D

[stardustjie]

𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜

when ellie wanted to go on a walk and you confessed your feelings for her (female reader, fluff)

author's note: this fanfiction was written in may 2023, so way before the current events in palestine. i apologise if posting this is inappropriate. please, boycott and donate to palestine if you can

"so, there is this theory. the universe is essentially cyclical, its destined to end and start again the exact same way. this means history has followed the same path since the dawn of time, humans have suffered and will suffer since we are meant to live the same life over and over an infinite amount of times. however, this also means we have been lived this exact moment and infinite amount of time. we are destined meet in every life, every single one of them" you said, enfolding yourself in ellie's jacket.

it was march. spring was slowly coming and the evening air was still quite cold, enough for ellie to lay her jacket on your shoulders the moment you started complaining about the temperature. there was a party in jackson and you didn’t care enough to ask what the reason to celebrate was. you just wanted to be there if ellie was there. you came earlier than everyone else, watching the door waiting to her to walk through the entrance. you saw her after a good fifteen minutes sat at your table and in a few moments she was sitting in front of you. when the music became too loud she asked if you wanted to keep talking outside.

"basically we are cursed" and she giggled. you were walking right outside the pub, trying to get away from the crowd and stay alone for a while. ellie started to talk about the universe before, about some theories she read on a book she found during one of her patrols. good heavens, you could listen to her ramblings for hours. you hoped that fun fact could impress her, at least a little bit. you could smell her on her jacket, so you squeeze its hems and ellie seemed to notice.

"so meeting me was a curse?" you jokingly asked and that was enough to make the other girl blush. you could feel her nervousness. it was dark already and the street light created a good atmosphere, everything made her face look ever prettier. you couldn’t wait for the summer to come, it would have accentuate her freckles and she would have her iconic half-bun hairstyle.

"absolutely fucking not! i mean... its probably one of the few things i want to experence again. like reading my favourite chapter for the first time again" she clumsily tried to explain, moving her hands a little bit to emphasize the concept. hoping it would make it make sense. for a moment you thought she could physically hear your heartbeat for how hard it was. you had a crush on ellie for quite a while and multiple times you found yourself doing whatever you could to spend more time with her. you even considered joining the patrol training. "how did we started talking about this?"

"well, we started talking about your comic serie, then about the universe and you got a little passionate about the topic. and i shared this amazing theory. i read a few articles in the library the other day, i thought you might find it interesting." you started, looking away to the street. you were to embarassed to actually look at her in the eyes and you could really feel the blood reaching your cheeks, so you decided to focus on a random point in the other direction. "i wanted to impress you. sometimes you start your ramblings and i find myself unable to reply, so i started looking for something to say. that's how i found the most depressing theory ever"

for a good moment you could only hear your own steps on the cobblestone and the confused background noise. ellie just stopped for a moment whike hearing your explaination, her eyes looking into the nothingness in front of her and her mind just internally replaying everything you have said. you stopped after a few steps, turning around just to see ellie lost for a second. before you could ask if everything was okay, she started talking. "wow... i mean, this somehow makes the idea less depressing"

"honestly? i would go through everything just to meet you again and i'm glad the thought of you doing the same isnt that depressing anymore" you replied smiling. in a few seconds ellie was right beside you like before and you just kept walking in silence. a little bit closer this time. the only sounds that filled the silence were your steps and some background voices you didn’t bother to listen. nobody could bother your personal heaven. and if the universe had to be destroyed and recreated to make you live it again, so be it.

"just to be clear, meeting you was the best thing that happened to me so far" you specified, still holding the hems of her jacket between your fingers to keep it on your shoulders. you had the courage to look at her and smile, waiting for a reaction. it was getting late, you were out of the town centre at this point and your two glasses of liquor at the bar made you braver than you would have thought. it was late, the stars were shining right above the two of you and there was no one around you. even the street light were fewer.

you walked a little faster, just a few steps and turned around to face the other girl. ellie had a perplexed expression on her face as she stopped. you slightly leaned forward, towards her. it was difficukt to describe how loud your heartbeat was in that instant and you could physically feel the change of the atmosphere, it was more tense and sentimental. you closed your eyes and took all the courage you had. you couldn’t go back anyway. "if the universe has to collapse to make each other meet again then good. if we had met each other in every universe, in every timeline,... i wouldn’t want to meet anyone else"

saying ellie was startled would be an understatement. little did you know she was hoplessly trying to hide her crush on you or how fast her heart was beating when she had the opportinuty to give you her jacket. you didn’t know about the times she looked at you from afar or how she talked about you to her friends when they were alone or about the many times she wrote about you in her journal. and now there she was, looking at you with wide eyes and not a single word on her mouth as you were essentially confessing your feelings for her.

you waited for her answer for a few moments. you tilted your head and watched her unsure of how you should behave, biting your own lips for the nervousness. you were almost sure you fucked up your friendships at this point. "oh, fuck" she started. her mind was crushing for a hot minute, not really processing what you said. you could see redness speading across her cheeks and over her freckles, decorating her face. "no, its just that... shit"

"too cheesy?" you asked with a slightly embarassed face. at this point you couldn’t really care anymore about whatever feeling of nervousness you have felt during the time you had a crush on her. crush that, at this point, was quite too obvious. it was the perfect moment, the perfect background to have either a romantic confession or your heart broken. it was worth it regardless.

"its the right amount of cheesy" she replied, hiding her mouth behind her hand. ellie never thought anyone would ever think of a space-themed love confession, especially she never thought the prettiest girl in town would confess her feelings for her with a space-themed love confession. "its the perfect amount of cheesy, actually" she commented quietly. she sighed.

you didn’t move a centimetre the moment she walked into your direction, so painfully aware of every step she took. of her perfume and how much you wanted to disapoear in the crook of her neck to snell it properly. of how warm her hand was when she reached for your cheeks. and under the stars, you kissed.

[be-my-ally]

Empty Promises (…. on the phone)

this is absolute filth and i have no excuse.

pairing: afab!reader/Elvis (actual!Elvis in my mind but since he’s on the phone and it’s from your perspective there’s not really any physical description of him so could be austin!elvis)

summary: Elvis has been away for a few nights but he’s left you a task to do while he’s gone. Tonight he calls and talks you through it. (for lack of a better expression; you’re trying to ‘train your tight pussy’ to be able to take the three fingers+ that you couldn’t in Empty Promises)

warnings: 18+, gratuitous use of daddy/pet names, fingering, phone sex, masturbation. kinda innocent!reader. Discussion of ‘getting you ready to be a woman’. very limited editing on this one so pls forgive any mistakes.

wc: 2.7k

“Hiya, Daddy.” You’re on your bed, ankles crossed waving in the air as you flick through a magazine on your tummy, you’d reached across to pick up the phone as it rang, having brought it onto the bed in preparation for his call. Waiting all evening just for him to ring, you’d gotten ready for bed now - in a little nightgown and a peignoir. You hear him chuckle down the line,

“How’d you know it was me baby girl? You just calling everyone who calls daddy now?” You giggle back at him,

“No silly, you said you’d call! I’ve been waiting for you.” He hums back to you, a laugh in his voice;

“Well that’s alright then doll.” You roll over onto your back, twirling the cord around your finger. “Have you been a good little girl? A good baby?” You squirm,

“Of course!” You’re affronted he even feels the need to ask. “Done everything you said.” You can hear his smile,

“Everything, darling?” His voice has deepened slightly and it goes straight to your lower stomach. Like butterflies starting to form.

“Mmhmm, every night. Just like you said. But….” You pause, you find yourself faltering, finding it difficult to describe what you want to; still embarrassed to say such things out loud. He waits a moment before he impatiently asks,

“But what?” You make a little noise down the line, half a groan and half a moan. He repeats himself, “But what sweetheart?” You still don’t respond and he attempts to coax it out of you in that baby voice he uses when he really wants something, “C’mon, tell daddy, baby.” You huff,

“I… can’t finish. I did the first night but I just, I keep getting so close and I can’t get myself there.”

“Oh, my darling!” He can’t help but laugh, “That wasn’t the whole point of this my love,” You huff, “but that must be tough, Daddy’ll be home soon. I’ll sort you out proper, soon as I’m in the house.” You sigh back at him,

“When will you be home?” You were getting bored without him and without anything to do with all of the boys with him.

“Day after tomorrow, baby. You know that. Boy, I can’t wait, it’s been far too long without my yittle in my arms.” You preen at his words, glad that he was admitting to miss you as much as you’d missed him.

“I can’t wait!” You hear someone talking to him in the background and you frown, you’ve not been able to talk to him in days - they’ve been on the road and moving around and busy while you were waiting for them to return - and now he’s being distracted when you do have him. You wait though, until you can hear him faintly calling out goodbyes, to say anything. “Who was that?”

“Jealous sweetheart?”

“Should I be?” You ask coyly,

“Of Joe? Never.” You laugh back at him, “Naw baby, they were just tellin’ me they were headin’ out.” You love when his accent deepens in private, like you get a tiny piece of the boy he was before the fame and dialect coaches,

“Oh.” You pause, and glance over at the clock, it’s already past midnight. “Have you got to go?”

“Nope. Told ‘em I had something else to see to.” You hope it’s you. “My baby’s been having a problem I need to sort out, thought I could give it a go.”

Your breath hitches.

“Doin’ it my way tonight, you gonna listen to your daddy? Do like he tells you.” You nod, before realising he can’t see you,

“Yes daddy. Please.” You can hear him shifting about and the creak of a chair or bed as he seems to settle himself in.

“You’re gonna start slow baby, want you to touch yourself all over. Start up top darling, touch those little tits of yours.” You heave a breath in as you settle up and back onto your bed, tucking the phone between your chin and shoulder.

“M’kay.” You start to brush a fingertip around your nipple, gently, over the top of your nightdress you haven’t really touched yourself like this before and it weirdly feels more intimate and awkward on your own.

“Now, wait a second baby, and lick your fingers and go back down. Just like daddy would do.” You comply and he can hear the wet noises that accompany you licking your fingers. You brush open your gown, and start to push the fabric of your nightdress down to better access your naked breasts. “Little girl, are you still dressed?” He could no doubt hear the rustle,

“Of course daddy.” You’re a little breathless already, and he laughs - at your state of eager excitement or at your state of dress you can’t tell.

“Well get it all off darlin’” You pause your fingers as they dry on your chest.

“But…then I’ll be completely naked, it’s too hot to be under the covers.” He laughs, speaking lowly,

“There someone in my house I don’t know about?” You’re confused for a moment, running through the current occupants in your head.

“…No.”

“Ain’t no-one gonna bother you then, so get it all off.” He huffs in your ear, “God almighty, no wonder you can’t get yourself goin’ if you’re frettin’ this much over taking your nightie off.” You know he’s joking but you can also feel his impatience and you hurry to do as he asks, stripping off. Throwing your panties god knows where. You feel outrageous completely nude like this even though he was right. Your curtains were pulled, door shut, and other than the help downstairs, you were home alone. You make sure the phone is still propped up securely, and lick your fingers again,

“Ok..El, I’m…touching myself again.” He laughs and you can hear the noises of him undressing too.

“Right darling, you’re gonna talk me through how you’ve been doing the past few nights.” You gasp,

“Oh no! I couldn’t possibly,” he growls down the phone at you, and you turn plaintive, pleading with him, “Oh, don’t make me do that El! It’s embarrassing.” He snorts down the phone at you,

“Nothing embarrassing ‘bout it mama, just doin what we gotta.” He changes his tone - he’s practically whispering low in your ear, “Makin’ sure you’re ready to be a proper little woman when the time comes, huh baby. Only got a few weeks left.” You smile at his words,

“I suppose that’s true…it’s just saying it.” You wait a moment for him to relent but when he doesn’t make any move to fill the silence you give in, “Ok. Ok. Shall I, shall I start now?”

“Yep baby, but I want you to just focus on that cute little button of yours if you’re gonna be touchin’ yourself for the second - I’ll tell you when to move on.” You trail your hand down to between your legs, following his instructions. “When you’re ready sweetheart.”

“Um… ok, uh, well, last night I got up to three, like you told me to. Been workin’ my way up before then.”

“Uh-huh, well you’re gonna be taking three of daddy’s in two days time baby, you think you’ll be ready for them?” He grunts at the end of the sentence, and you can’t hear it but you know he’s touching himself. You squirm at his words, his fingers are rather large and you know that come hell or high water they’re going in you.

“Yeah, I think it’s been trickier without you. I’m not as…wet. But, it wasn’t as hard last night so it, I, should be ready by then. I, uh, take my time with two still though.” You can hear his breathing get heavier down the line. You brush your fingertips over your clit, rubbing in tiny, light circles. “Um, but I still start just with one.”

“Yeah, doll? What do ya do? Twiddle with yerself a little and then pop it in?” You gasp at his vulgarity.

“Uh-huh, pretty much daddy. Just do what I can to get myself wet. I’m uh, still normally pretty ready by the time I get into bed. Just thinkin’ about you does the trick honestly.” You sigh at him, you can practically feel his ego inflating, but its the truth.

“You thinkin’ bout me now darling?” He’s smug, but it’s surely not anything he didn’t already know.

“Uh-huh, thinking about you touching me,” You can hear yourself gasp, and it inspires a sudden boldness, “about you licking me all over.” He chuckles lowly,

“You like my tongue dontcha, dirty little thing.”

“Uhh-huh…then I rub my finger around, and do it just like you showed me.”

“Just like I showed you huh?”

“That’s right, I…swirl it about a little bit, and uh… push it in and out, until I think I can fit a second in. Then I press down with both of them.” You can hear him lick something, presumably his palm, and the distant sound of skin on skin contact. “Then I do what you told me to do, trying to stretch myself out a little. But it just doesn’t matter how I stroke myself, I can’t seem to find my spot.” He laughs at you,

“It’s hard to find by yourself, little one.”

“And then last night...I got in my third finger, but it - I couldn't - I just had to hold it there for a little while - it hurt a little. "

“We don’t want that doll.” He practically growls as he lectures you, “Remember I told you about the slick in the bathroom. You oughta be using that to help ya anyway.”

“I can do it myself.” He hums back at your indignation.

“Well, we’ll see soon won’t we? … You still touching yourself baby?” You agree, breathy little sounds travelling with your “Ye-es”. “What a good little baby you are, my perfect little one.” You bite back a moan, there’s something about him praising you that always turns you on. “Let me hear you baby.” You comply, releasing your lip from your teeth, making tiny little ‘unh unh’ sounds. He groans, “Ok then, its late little one, best get on with it now, go on move that little hand down. Describe it to me.”

“UH-huh. I’m, uh, just, moving my hand down, oh god I’m so wet Elvis. Oh my god I’m slippery.” He laughs, “Um ok, I’m just touching my … hole with my finger, just gonna take a second.” You groan as you slip your middle finger in, index and third holding you open.

“That’s it yittle, wiggle it around a bit, though you should be used to that by now. Even daddy can fit one in ya straight away.” Your hips thrust up, and your thumb finds your clit again as you rotate the finger within.

“Uh-huh i’m doin’ it daddy.” His breathing hitches,

“Go on then, get the second one in now little one, should be ready for it by now.” You nod although he can’t see you, and your mouth opens in a gasp as you insert your index finger alongside the middle, thrusting them both in gently. You’re still nervous to be too rough with yourself, although you’d been balanced on Elvis’ before, thrashing about as he held you only with that grip while you came.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Curl those lil’ fingers now for daddy, stroke yourself.” You do as he says and you can practically feel your walls loosening slightly with each stroke. You’re slick as anything and that helps to ease the way, can feel the damp heat growing with your heartbeat.

“I’m - uh - shit- doing it, f-fuck that feels good.” You gasp,

“Goodness, ya got a mouth on ya tonight darlin’, not very ladylike of ya.” He scolds, you hadn’t even noticed. The words slipping out as you struggled to make sense of how, just by him telling you what to do, it felt so much better than going it alone,

“So-orry.”

“Dontcha worry your pretty little head ‘bout it, you can make it up to daddy by getting that next one in that yittle cunt of yours.” The irony of it being necessary to make up to him after swearing, as he calls your vagina a cunt is lost on you in the moment. Your left hand grips the comforter, and you pull both your fingers out, feeling your soft, puffy, folds. Spreading the sticky wetness around. “Go on darling, wanna hear you.” A moan slips out of your mouth, followed by a gasp as you softly push in three fingers. It’s an awkward angle for you to do yourself on your back like this, but you can’t imagine how else you could stay on the phone. It’s less of a burn than the day before, and you wonder if it’s because what you’re doing is working, or if it’s just because you’re so much more ready doing it with him.

“Just-like I’d do, do it just like I would, spread those tiny lil’ fingers in that tiny yittle pocket.” He pauses and if you listened closely you could hear his hand speeding up, You do as he says, your chin dropping as your mouth opens. “Use your thumb baby, rub yerself.”

“Uh-huh, ye-es, ye-es daddy.”

“You close little one?” He grunts, his voice speeding up, “I’m -ah- almost there, wanna go together.” He groans and you pick up the pace, can feel yourself tensing up, just about hitting the right place and speed.

Your eyes roll back in your head, and the phone slips from its resting spot as you can’t help but turn your head from side to side. It feels like your hand is cramping as you struggle to maintain the momentum and steady pressure. You get there, shouting as you just about reach climax but you’re unable to maintain it for very long as your hips jump involuntarily and your pace is wrecked.

You can hear the blood whooshing in your ears and the pulse of your heartbeat as you come down. You feel shaky as you reach blindly for the handset again. It wasn’t unsatisfying, but it wasn’t good - it just was.

“You get there little one?” He’s out of breath, slurring his words slightly in his own post-orgasmic haze.

“Yeah,” You feel somewhat teary, and your eyes fill as you sniff, “But, it wasn’t like you do it. My hand hurts and I still feel…” you squirm, “on edge.” There’s a pause and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep. But then he speaks,

“We-ell…that’s because its a job for daddy, little girls can’t do it quite right. That’s just the way it is sweetheart.” You whine, you wouldn’t ever want to be without him but the implication that you couldn’t scared you. You hiccup down the line and you hear him shift closer to the phone,

“What’s wrong?” You sniffle again, before answering;

“I just… how will I ever do without you then?” You feel ridiculous, there’s more to life than effective orgasms but you’d had a taste now and didn’t think you could go back to pretending you didn’t know what bliss felt like.

He laughs, “Well, it’s a good job we’re getting hitched in couple ‘a weeks then isn’t it? Never gonna be without me again little one.”

[louisa-gc]

a (not-so-)little note

since my post about reading now has over 2000 notes (wow! i know it's not much for some but to me it's a lot!), i wanted to add to it a thought i hoped would be apparent from between the lines but this is the internet and one can never be too sure, so:

while we all know why reading is important, it's not a competition, and reading or not reading is not a judgment of a person's character, values or virtue. i don't think maximising the amount one reads through whatever methods should be anyone's goal at all, though perhaps my wording made it seem so. i would always encourage to rather read two books a year with thought instead of reading and listening to two hundred books a year just to have gone through two hundred books.

i appreciate all the additions and replies to my post and, while i'm not an audiobook person myself, can see how they could be very valuable to some people. however, i do listen to podcasts and video essays when cleaning or walking, and at least in my case, the amount of attention i am able to pay to what i'm hearing is not at all similar to the way i can concentrate on reading a physical book.

we all read differently, and i would not want to dictate what kind of reading is or isn't valuable; some books are quick, almost mindless reads, others take a long time and a lot of concentration. our circumstances are different too, sometimes we might not be able to either read or listen to a book. what i would encourage us all to avoid though, is the trap of trying to do as much as possible of everything all at once.

you don't need to optimise your time, you don't need to be reading or listening to books at all times to be a reader, you don't even need to be a reader(!).

if you like audiobooks, that's great! sit down, knit and listen to one. but if you're using audiobooks just because you want to go through as many books as possible, feel "productive" or whatnot, if you listen to books as background noise and then fool yourself to think it's the same as actually reading, i would advise you to just find fifteen minutes in which to sit down and read a physical book. it trains a different muscle than listening and it forces you to focus on one thing at a time and to go at your own pace, whatever that might look like for you.

there is no right or wrong way to read or be a reader, and i love to see how something i've always loved has suddenly become "cool". on the other hand, i'd be very wary of reading sliding under the umbrella of "things we must do as much of as possible to be good human beings". there is nothing inherently wrong about audiobooks, but the way some people seem to think of them hints at a culture of overconsumption and excess. quality over quantity, always.

[chvoswxtch]

speak now — any headcanons about Matt and music?

i’ve been thinking about this since you first submitted it & doing some research (rewatching DD clips) so let's explore together nonnie

headcannon below the cut

timeless (matt's version)

so we know that matt likes vinyl records, which is one of the very few clues we get about what devil boy does for fun besides argue and bleed, which I think might be a preference passed down from his dad (jack might've been a collector and passed some down to matt as a kid), but I think it also has to do with the listening experience

I myself collect records, and have for several years, and listening to a vinyl vs listening to music on the radio or your phone is a different experience. sometimes the music can get a little distorted when listening on a phone, or there's interference from the radio, but vinyls usually produce a very crisp and clean sound which might work better for matt's sensitive hearing

I personally think he has a pair of noise cancelling headphones that he plugs into his record player sometimes when he wants to be able to listen to the music without any distractions picked up with his other senses (the buzz of electricity in his building, traffic, conversations of his neighbors, etc.)

I also feel like his taste in music changes depending on what he's doing

for example, if he's working on a court case, I feel like he would pick something like classical music or something instrumental so that there's background noise to soothe his already overstimulated mind, but no lyrics or anything to disrupt his train of thought/focus. think music you would hear playing quietly in a local coffee shop

however when he goes to fogwells, I think he definitely chooses music that will keep him amped up, probably some kind of high energy rock or hip hop with heavy bass and beats he might use to time his jabs at the punching bag

as for what his favorite kind of music in, honestly I think it varies

I could see him in the kitchen cooking with a glass of wine, playing something like frank sinatra, etta james, the temptations, sam cooke, etc. something soulful and a little jazzy that makes him feel relaxed, but also move around his kitchen with a pep in his step

something tells me jack was a classic rock guy, that's just the feeling I get from him. I think this is what matt listens to when he wants to feel close to his dad, or maybe like on sundays when he's cleaning and unwinding, trying to get ready for the week. maybe like the eagles, fleetwood mac, pink floyd, journey, led zeppelin, etc.

I think all of the newer music he listens to is definitely influenced primarily by foggy and karen

foggy nelson is a huge 80s guy. he knows EVERY hit from the 80s and will proudly sing them drunkenly at karaoke. given that he and matt lived together, and shared a broom closet at landman and zack together, and are essentially in a civil union for all intents and purposes, Matt knows a lot of 80s hits bc of foggy.

karen on the other hand is a 90s/early 2000s girly. she's definitely the reason matt suddenly realizes one day he knows all the lyrics to "baby one more time" by britney spears and was quietly humming along in his office while foggy was belting it in his. i'd like to think she plays "wannabe" by the spice girls at least once a week in their office and one night after a few drinks taught both of them the dance which she can only get them to perform after several rounds at josie's

I also think frank is a classic rock kinda guy (we know he likes bruce springsteen) and I have this adorable picture in my head of frank coming over to borrow vinyls from matt, and even adding a few of his own to matt's collection

all the grunge in his collection came from jess and no one can convince me otherwise (here's the angsty music I like to brood to, enjoy- jess)

given the fact that matt speaks spanish, i'd like to think that he enjoys reggaeton and maybe even tejano music (I like to think he's a selena fan, but that could be me projecting)

he's a swiftie. foggy and karen are swifties and successfully convereted matt into a swiftie, whether he likes to admit it or not. i said what i said (frank is next to be converted)

now i'm very curious to know what kinda music y'all think matty likes??

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Seven (Part 2)

I don’t realise that I’m tipsy until the cold breeze hits me, as as I drag my phone out of the waistband of my skirt again, the glow of the screen jerks around in front of my eyes. I open up my messenger app and tap out a message with great effort.

I got the goods.

I attach Michelle’s phone number. He types back a minute later. 

Thamk yuo 

Yuo’re wlecmoe. Nice attempt at spelling some really challenging words there, Jude. Good job.

Haha funny gril

*funny gilr

Fuck **girl

Oh my God, you’re pissed. 

Yes !

I watch the typing dots appear and disappear for a minute or two before he appears to give up trying, and my phone comes to life in my palm with a phone call. I bring it to my ear. “Hello?” In the background is the sound of thumping techno music, rustling noises and then the swish of something heavy before his voice emerges from the chaos. “Yes.” He announces. “I’m drunk. Sorry about that, my thumbs won’t text what I want them to text.” He’s got this loose, childish, silly tone to his voice that makes me smile, as it’s a rare privilege to hear him like this. 

“You out?”

“I am.”

“Where are you?”

“Uh… Katen… Kater Blau?”

“Are you asking me?”

He laughs. “No, I can’t remember how to say it. I’m somewhere. I’m outside some club.” The music is muffled now, but the sounds of a busy city have replaced it, swirling around him, weaving its distinct melody with the sound of his voice. 

“Is it a Halloween party?”

“I wish. Nobody celebrates Halloween in Germany. I’m just out. Tuesday night partying, baby. Oh! You’re at Shane’s house.”

“That’s right.” I settle onto the steps, first flicking a tiny snail off the stone. “Here I am. I’ve been drinking tequila.”

“Bleagh.” He exclaims. “Tequila makes me puke.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Even the smell.” He makes another gagging sound and I cover my mouth with my hand. “Stop making that noise or I’ll start puking, you sicko.”

He lets out a loose, easy laugh. “So what’s your costume?”

“I’m a cat.”

“Ah.”

“Very original, I know.”

“A cat.”

“Meow.” I say flatly.

“So… what are you wearing?”

I cough out an outraged laugh. “That’s a bit of an inappropriate question. You’re hardly flirting with me.” As soon as I’ve said it I wish I hadn’t. In my head it was funny, but as soon as it hits the air I curse myself for ever thinking it ever would be. These are the only kinds of jokes that are never funny with him.

An awkward laugh. “Well I dunno. I was wondering what you were wearing, like, costume-wise, that’s all” My face heats up. “Um, like just these stupid cat ears I made and a cheap leather skirt and a corset I stole from a girl I used to know.”

“Cool, cool, cool.”

“Cool.” I wince with the phone against my ear, hearing only a rustle of fabric and a gentle sniff as he continues to say nothing at all. 

“This is nice, Evie. It’s cool to call you again.” He says eventually, voice a bit hoarse. Goosebumps travel up and down my arms and legs, but it’s surely thanks to the wind.

“I know.” 

“Like, you haven’t been far from my mind this last year.” 

I take a slow, shaky breath, suddenly feeling like I’m on another planet, alone on Shane’s front doorstep while the party thumps on on the other side of the wall. “Right.” I say, but only a raspy whisper escapes me. 

“I’m only saying this because I’m drunk.” He clarifies. “I obviously wouldn’t dare say it otherwise.”

“Oh.”

“You know how I was in Japan last spring? On the day that we went to see mount Fuji it was so foggy, too foggy to see a thing, and we were so bummed out, but the next morning before we got the train to Kyoto I got up early, like, when the sun was rising, and from the window of my hotel room I could see it, and it was right there, clear and blue, and the sky was red behind it and all I could think of how much I wished that you could see it too. Like, that I wasn’t alone just looking at it. I knew that you’d understand how perfect it was.”

I pause. The sharp autumnal breeze licks over my skin and fallen leaves rustle across the garden. “Jude.” I say softly. “You know that-”

There’s a sudden, loud crackling noise over the line and then a new voice is speaking to me. “Hallo?”

I blink. “Um, hello?”

“Bist du das, Astrid?” 

“No – um, nicht? Ich bin Evie.” I cringe. 

“Evie! Evie Kilbride.” This new voice is the cheerful, infectiously jolly sort of voice that renders the smile that crawls up my face irresistible. “Yes, and who is this?” 

“I’m Jonas.” He announces. “I have heard a lot about you.” and I can hear Jude groan in the background. 

“Exclusively good things, I hope.” 

“Yes of course, only very good things. Are you partying tonight?”

“Yes! It’s Halloween, Jonas.”

“Ah I see! Do you have a costume?”

“I’m a cat.”

“A sexy cat?”

I laugh, listening to Jude’s distant protests. “Jonas, please, give me my phone.” he pleads.

“You’re too drunk.” Jonas insists. “You’re at risk or saying something stupid. I’ll speak to her. Is it okay if I speak with you, Evie Kilbride?”

“Absolutely, but fair warning, I might be too drunk too.”

“You sound wonderful, my dear. I hope my friend didn’t disturb you.”

“Of course not. We were just chatting nonsense. Are you having a fun night?”

“Oh yes, we are. When are you coming to Berlin? When do I get to finally meet you?”

“Hmm… Maybe soon-ish.”

“I’ve been looking forward to it. You’re famous in our house.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I’ve looked at so many photographs on-” There’s the sound of a struggle, rustles and swipes and then Jude is back again. “I’m sorry, Evie.” He breathes. “We should probably hang up now before he says anything insane.”

“Okay.” I say, and in the background Jonas yells “Send us a picture of your costume, Evie Kilbride!”

“Don’t send me a picture.” He says. “Or do, if you want to… I, uh, never mind. I can imagine without a photograph… or – Christ, sorry. Nothing I’m saying sounds right at the moment. I’m going to go.”

“Alright, see you.” I say. “Enjoy the Katzer Blau.”

“Yep.” He says, and then the line goes dead just as Jonas starts to loudly sing my name.

The next morning, as I rise with an aching head and a mouth that feels like it’s been rinsed with sand, I reach for my phone on my bedside table. He has texted me, one coherent, sober message underneath the barrage of his drunken misspellings. 

I’m sorry if I said anything weird to you last night. I remember we talked but I don’t remember what about. I was very drunk. Forgive me. Hope we’re good. 

x J

Beginning // Prev // Next

[neurodivergentbraingoblins]

Okay, I need advice or information or something because I'm very confused right now.

So the name "Neurodivergent Brain Goblins" comes from these bits of myself that I've named and given an identity to in order to help other people understand my brain.

I've had neuropsych testing done (4.5 hrs of testing, surveys, and forms). They agreed that I have C-PTSD and dissociative symptoms with a somatoform disorder, but they don't agree that I have DID because I don't lose time and don't have other personalities that take over/replace mine.

My brain goblins are their own people but also are just me. Mini little parts of me that sometimes control more of my life than I often do.

Reynold is my logic. He is my assistant manager who definitely wasn't given enough training and is more of a glorified babysitter than anything else 😅 I honor the amount of shit he puts up with every day. He is second in command and acts as a buffer to all the other brain goblins.

Then there is Jeff 🫠 I call him my ADHD goblin. Jeff loves buttons. He loves pushing them and watching them light up and hearing them make noise. Jeff also loves running around, jumping, making ridiculous noises, and seeing how many times he can do the same exact thing in a row before it pisses everyone else off 🤣 sometimes Reynold will give Jeff a tennis ball to go bounce against the wall for a while just so he can get some real work done.

(I'm not done drawing Jeff, but this is him so far 😊 he is a very mischievous little shit lol)

I also have Frank my OCD Goblin. He carries around an abacus instead of a calculator because 1. He is obsessed with numbers and 2. Physically moving the pieces to count calms his anxiety 😅. Frank loves simple repetitive tasks that he can do on repeat so he can count them over and over again. He often teams up with Jeff because of this and then they bug Reynold all day. Kind of a "hey! Hey! Hey check this out! Look what we can do! Hey!"

Bobby is my Autism Goblin 🤣 I love him so much but like sometimes I just.. he tries so hard and his effort is absolutely beautiful, but he just isn't good at any of it 🙃 he is the director of communication, so anytime I socialize Bobby shows up to help navigate talking. But like he just REALLY isn't good at it 🤣 the heart and soul he puts into it though is why he is still the communications director 🥰

I also have Manic Manny, Depression Dave, Sensory Sally. Though they like to work from behind the scenes. Their control is really strong but everything they do is by sneaking up and whispering in Reynolds ear and *poof* disappearing. He can't ever see them, but the weird creepy crawly feeling they give him makes him act on what they said every single time.

There are lots of other Goblins that work in this factory, but they are more like background characters? Like, everyone has a job, but most are just quiet office workers that help to keep the lights on 😅

If you have read this far thank you so much!! My question now is, what are my brain goblins? Is this DID or is it something else?? Tbh I don't really care what it is because these are my Brain Goblins and I love them no matter how much they annoy me 😅 but I also like learning information because sometimes it can really help me with managing life lol

[andrewkantor]

Making working alone not working lonely

NOTE: This is not going to be some ‘oh, woe is me’ post — it’s actually about some fun ways I found to work from home. So I work from home and work completely alone — my office is up in one corner of the house and I live in the middle of nowhere. Except for the occasional UPS truck or train whistle, the rest of the world could be gone for all I know. Honestly, it gets lonely. (I used to have cats coming and going, but they … well, they liked to “claim” things in the office so they had to go.) I actually like working in an office with people. I just don’t like commuting, and it’s not like that’s an option. So I’ve come up with ways to feel a bit more connected and a bit less lonely alone. Got me a friend I couldn’t have cats, so I got a bunny. Not intentionally — I was looking for a small animal, and in one of those coincidences the universe tosses out, the local humane society was helping rehome some rescued bunnies that very week. And after some reading I realized that bunnies hate being in a cage. They actually get sick and depressed. So after a few weeks, the bunny got the run of my office. Like most bunnies, she’s litter trained, so no worries aside from vacuuming up bit of hay that get scattered. The bunny usually keeps herself to herself, but jumps when she hears the treat box shake, and sometimes taps my leg for skritchies. And she’s always interested in whatever I’m doing around the office — new boxes, watering plants, whatever. Low-maintenance but friendly. Perfect. Listening to humans I like music when I work, sure, but I wanted more. Specifically, I like music with live DJs — they remind me that there’s a world out there. But I don’t want to hear anything about politics or (ugh) depressing American news. Solution: Canadian radio. It took a bit of hunting, but I found several classic-rock stations with live, bantering DJs up north. Listening to them is like listening to people in an office — I feel less disconnected. (I even text in occasional comments or contest entries and have become a “friend of the show” to one on Vancouver Island — “You make us sound international!”) I built myself a Web page that lets me click to their streams, as well as those of some other stations I’ve found. Convenient! By afternoon, though, the fun shows go off the air and the stations switch to single DJs who don’t talk much. Good for the music, no help with combating loneliness. Better than white noise When the morning shows end, I might continue to listen to music or I might switch to plan B: background chatter. That is, ambient background sound that lets me concentrate. I gave up on plain ol’ rain effects once I found a cool site called myNoise. It’s got, like, hundreds of sounds you can combine into the background you want. MyNoise (it’s free) lets you create a custom background, so I made one that’s a study hall: Chatting students, papers occasionally turning, footsteps, pens scratching — not very loud, but enough to feel like I’m in the environment. It even lets me have the volume randomly go up and down, so sometimes the virtual students are really chatty, but then they quiet down to a murmur for a while. With noise-cancelling headphones or earbuds it’s really immersive, and it lets me concentrate on work while feeling like I’m in a room with other people. I’m sure there are a lot of other ways to work alone and not be lonely — lots of Zoom calls, getting out to the store often, working in the library or coffee shop. But this works pretty well for me between conference calls and visits from the UPS guy. Tagged: Blog

[1surfrocker]

12/14/2023

I'm reading The Rest is Noise by Alex Ross and trying to wrap my head around all these composers and what makes them distinct. Classical musical is a big blind spot of mine, but thanks to the music of Jonny Greenwood I've formed an appreciation for 20th century classical.

Here's what I've discovered so far:

-12 Tone Composition is something I want to try. The arrangement has no musical key, and all 12 tones of a chromatic scale are played frequently

-Early 20th century composers all had a very haughty idea of what made music music, and loved to disagree and sling insults at one another.

-In order to become a true genius composer, one must intentionally contract syphilis and succumb to madness.

-Most of these composers were all either nazis or communists.

Here's an idea that the book puts forth. There are essentially three kinds of music listeners:

The "Luxury Trade" - those riding in sedate satisfaction in streamlined trains from Beethoven to Sibelius and back

The "contemporary" music listener - Those who prize obscurantism and make a cult out of the apparent complexities in systematically discordant counterpoint

The "leftist-front" - Those of an educated and urban working background, who want educated, urban spokesmen for their ideals.

These are mostly the author's words as he paraphrases a composer/critic from 1938. But I have to say I agree with them. But I'd re-contextualize the idea to better fit today's culture, and break down the three types of listeners like this:

The "feel good" listener - Prefers the radio hits, music that makes them feel happy or feel at home and will enjoy what they hear as long as it is safe and familiar.

The "hipster" listener - Wants music that's made for art's sake, that pushes the envelope and redefines the boundaries, music that is experimental and bold and difficult, and disregards any musicians or artists that don't adhere to this.

The "political" listener - Those that want their music to make a statement about the government and society, music that inspires change, human evolution, or total revolution.

The reality is that probably very few people are 100% one of these categories. We tend to be a little bit of all three. I like a good punk rock song now and again, but category 3 is probably the least me. Almost everyone who knows me would probably tell you I'm Category 2 given the amount of obscure art-rock I make my friends listen to (you're welcome, everybody!). But I'm also a real sucker for a nice hook, and will throw down with pop music any goddamn day as long as (and I can't make myself clear enough on this matter) it's GOOD MUSIC. (hello Lady Gaga!)

It's interesting to me how Ross describes category 3 as "leftist front." While it's true that there's a lot of music made today that has a strong liberal or progressive message, there's a hell of a lot of right-wing music being made too. Turn on any country radio station in America, for example. Or look at the skinhead punk music scene and their nazi rhetoric. The way Ross writes it, you'd think that there was no overtly right-wing political music being made at all in the early 20th century, which doesn't seem plausible.

Could there be a 4th category of music listener that we're overlooking? and what would that look like?

[arcanadreams]

Water Fights with the OM Bros

it’s 90 degrees outside at my place and you know what that means!!! water fight headcanons because I refuse to go outside in the heat in real life asdhgskjdgks

once again i’m only doing the brothers bc i do not trust myself with the dateables just yet lmao

Lucifer:

Literally only agrees to join because you’re so excited about it.

“...If it makes you happy, MC,” are his exact words. Simp.

You did agree to make the game have no points though, to keep things from getting competitive. Both at the advice of Lucifer and because you knew he would not join if there was any chance he could lose. (Also because Satan is a menace but we’ll get to that later.)

When all the brothers are gathered he suggests everyone pairs up into teams. 

“You’re only saying that so you can cozy with M-” Asmo tries to say before being sprayed in the face with water.

“My hair!” “Oh, look at that. I suppose the game has started,” Lucifer hides his water gun behind his legs, but he can’t hide the shit eating grin on his face.

He takes your hand with a “Come along, MC,” and leads you away as everyone splits up.

You two make a surprisingly good team for this sort of thing! He knows the gardens well and also knows where each of his brothers is likely to go. You are quite skilled water water guns and balloons. He’s basically the brains and you’re the brawn. 

He snatches a few kisses now and then when you look back at him excitedly after smacking one of his brothers with a balloon. You’re just so cute!

When everyone is all tuckered out and goes off to shower and whatever, Lucifer hangs back with you to thank you for organizing everything. With a kiss to the back of your hand, he says, “I’ll admit, I was...skeptical, at first. But, as usual, you brought my brothers together in a way I haven’t seen in a long while. Thank you, MC.” 

Mammon:

“I’m MC’s first man, so I get to team with them!” “You’re also literally my boyfriend, but okay hun.” Cue Mammon blushing beet red at the nickname and muttering at you not to call him that in front of his brothers. (He doesn’t mean it; he loves that they know you’re his and vice versa.)

Strategically, the two of you are the absolute worst. But that’s because you’re both just there to have fun!

And have fun you do! You actually get in quite a few fun chases with Levi! He’s probably the most into the water fight out of everyone, the three of you are just running around the gardens pelting each other with balloons. It’s super cute.

Mammon is absolutely the type to yell “I’ll avenge you, MC!” every single time you get sprayed. 

Eventually, you and Mammon follow Levi’s advice and start hiding in places to catch some of the other brothers by surprise. Which would be fine if Mammon didn’t blush super hard and start grumbling because of how close together you were when kneeling behind the garden wall.

You roll your eyes and surge forward to kiss him. He’s so shocked he has no idea what to do with his hands at first. But, after a second of pause, his water gun falls to the ground with a clatter and he wraps his arms around you.

“Get a room,” Is all the two of you hear before Belphie dumps a whole ass bucket of water on your heads. Mammon growls and jumps up to get the youngest before Beel can scoop him up, but you grab his hand and stop him. 

You’re laughing super hard, and the sun is shining on your hair. You almost look like you have a halo...Mammon gives up the chase before it even starts because his MC is simply ethereal. 

“Mammon!” You smile brilliantly at him when you finally stop laughing. “I kissed you to keep you quiet! And then you managed to make even more noise!” 

He just hugs you then so you can’t see his blushing face. Stupid lovely human making fun of him. (He likes it, though.)

Leviathan:

This boy is literally the MOST excited when you tell him your idea. He was in on it from the very start.

He actually helped you get all the supplies! He opens his Akuzon account right away and starts showing you what water guns would be best and picking out huge packs of balloons made specifically for being water grenades. (Definitely had looked all this stuff up before in case he found a LARPing buddy.)

You ask him how much Grimm all this stuff will cost and he tells you not to worry. “I’ll cover it!” “But, Levi-” He interrupts you with big blush on his face. 

“L-Listen MC. You’re m-my Henry! And I know this will be fun, s-so...I’ll cover it.” You leap forward and give him a hug, triggering a surprised but equally happy screech.

Honestly he is so excited you proposed an idea like that of your own volition. Like...it just makes him feel like all the games and stuff he finds fun truly don’t bother you. You haven’t been lying; you genuinely are interested in the same things as him. It makes him feel so warm.

When everyone is still arriving, you grab one of your water guns and do that cool spinny thing. You know the thing. The cowboy gun spin. You’re like, “Hey Levi! Check this out!” 

BAM. Boy is OUT. So red his face is steaming. That’s the hottest thing he has ever seen in his entire damn life. What the fuck, MC. He is basically frozen on the spot out of sheer overwhelmed-ness as how hot that was. You have to drag him away when the water fight starts. Totally worth staying up all night figuring out how to do the spin trick with a water gun.

Once the action gets going, you two are unstoppable. No one escapes the fight unscathed thanks to y’all. All those late night Call of Duty sessions trained you for this!!

Your favorite tactic is definitely camping, though. You and Levi would pick a spot and hide there, waiting for one of his brothers to come by, and then...ATTACK!

If it actually were a competition, you two would’ve won by a landslide. But honestly, Levi didn’t really keep track. He was having too much fun watching you. You were so mesmerizing when you were in the zone and so gorgeous when laughing as you gave him victory high fives after a successful ambush. 

You let him take a picture of you posing all tough with your water gun and he makes it his DDD background immediately. And his lockscreen so you can protect his DDD from intruders.

Satan:

THIS ASSHOLE. THIS MAN IS THE REASON YOU MADE SURE THERE WAS NO COMPETITION.

If there was any sense of competition, Satan would’ve gone absolutely out of his mind to beat Lucifer. He would make sure to destroy that man’s dignity as thoroughly as possible.

So, for the sake of both him and the eldest brother, no points. No contest. He grumbles about it, but, much like said eldest brother, he still joins because he sees how happy the idea of a family water fight makes you.

 Satan treats is almost as seriously as Levi does. EVEN THOUGH YOU MADE SURE IT WASN’T A COMPETITION, HE DAMN SURE STILL ACTS LIKE IT IS. UGH.

Literally pulls a map of the House of Lamentation’s gardens out of his back pocket??? And puts it on the side of the fountain?? And starts planning maneuvers on it with you??? He pulls a pen out of his SWIM TRUNK POCKETS to use to point with and emphasize his points. You just blink at him. This is your mans. Good lord.

Considering his expert knowledge of the layout of the entire surrounding area of HoL from that map, he actually knows of some secret passages the other brothers don’t even consider. He takes you to them so you can use them to spy on what Lucifer’s the other brothers’ strategies are.

It’s only once you’re creeping around the tunnels that he realizes something: none of his brothers know where you are. They can’t bother you...time to make out.

Grabs your attention with a quiet, “MC” and gives you a smooch. Soon enough he is backing you up against the wall. A water balloon you have tied to your belt pops against the rough brick, interrupting the two of you.

Satan disregards it and move to kiss you again, but you let out a gasp. He’s worried for you for a moment: did you scrape yourself? But when you turn to look at him, there’s a mischievous glint in your eye that he loves to see. 

“My water broke!” You whisper-exclaim dramatically, covering your mouth in fake shock. Satan has to nuzzle his face in your neck to avoid laughing and filling the tunnel with the echo that would alert his brothers. The two of you basically just canoodle in the passages until the water fight is over LMAO

Asmodeus:

Pretty much just to show off how good he looks in a bathing suit to you and anyone else who happens to be lucky enough to witness his glory.

He’s not the best at water fights and ends up using you as a human shield sometimes adjgfkjshf

“Asmo! Stop hiding behind me!” “I am not letting Lucifer mess up my hair twice in one day, darling!”

He comments quite often on how hot you look. Both in your bathing suit and also when in the zone looking for victims to douse in watery fury. You look like an action hero, MC! Have you ever thought about becoming the next Bond? Asmo could definitely pull some hypnotic strings.~

Every time you successfully pull him out of the way of an oncoming water balloon or block a blast of water from hitting, he totally melts. He presses his back to your chest, swooning against you and batting his eyelashes.

“Oh, MC, my hero! My dashing knight in shining armor!” You scoff, but think it’s super cute. You even play into it sometimes and pick him up bridal style.

“The king is looking for you, my prince,” you say once as you lift him, and he actually blushes. Asmodeus, avatar of lust, blushes at a silly pet name. He was not expecting you to get so into the role!!! He loves it, though.

For the rest of the water fight the two of you are basically roleplaying a royal and his knight bodyguard. It is stupidly fun and the both of you have an absolute blast.

“Oh, MC, my darling knight! I have amazing news!” Asmo says after the fight ends. You’re drying his hair off with a towel. “Yes, my liege?” 

“In exchange for your wonderful and dutiful protection, you have been given permission by the crown to court me! Isn’t that wonderful?” He smiles and you throw your head back in a laugh. You lean down and give him a nice, long kiss on the lips before pulling away. “That is absolutely splendid, your highness.”

Beelzebub:

He loves the idea because it’ll get his whole family together and he knows it. He has to carry Belphie out there but that’s normal.

He helped you and Levi plan!! Excited boy. You filled him in when he joined you and Levi for a game night. He totally volunteered to go get some extra supplies from some nearby stores for y’all. So cute.

Once everyone is actually fighting, this boy WILL NOT STOP BEING A HUMAN (demon?) SHIELD FOR YOU. LIKE NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU TELL HIM IT’S FINE, YOU’RE FINE, HE WILL NOT STOP.

“Babycakes, it’s okay. It’s water. It can’t hurt me.” “But I love you. I want you safe.” O H. O K A Y.

Someone call a doctor Beel just shot MC through the heart!!! He’s so genuine you just bright red and kiss his cheek because he deserve it.

“Well, I guess that’s settled then, huh?” He gives you a big Beel smile and nods, ruffling your hair affectionately.

Y’all get sprayed with water A LOT because your hungry boy is very big and hard to hide. Er, I should say HE gets sprayed a lot because he is a fantastic meat shield and you’re practically dry by the time the fight is over. He, on the other hand, is soaked to the bone.

He still insists on drying you off with a towel, though. The two of you dry each other off back in the twins’ room while Belphie dozes nearby in his bed.

You’re in the middle of drying his shoulders when he just starts talking. “That was really fun, MC. I’m really grateful for you. Ever since you’ve been here, things are always more fun. And you bring all my brother together. Thank you.” 

You damn near burst into tears!!! Ahhhh!!! You sniffle and jump into his nap, wrapping your arms around him. “But MC, I’m still wet.” “I don’t care!! I’m giving you snuggles!!”

Belphegor:

Literally does not give a single fuck about a water fight until he realizes it lets him throw shit at Lucifer with absolutely zero consequences. Then he is all in.

Beel doesn’t even have to carry him around during the fight! Once he is outside and realizes all the shenanigans he can pull, he is perfectly content to grab you by the hand and be the one dragging you around, for once!

You two will probably team up with Satan and Beel at various points. Beel because he’s Beel, and Satan because he and Belphie absolutely set water balloon filled booby traps for Lucifer.

That’s his preferred strategy: set up a trap and wait in the bushes, watching for the target to approach.

He’s definitely the type to yell “Every man for himself!” if someone catches you guys hiding. Unlike his twin, he lets you get totally soaked while he runs away laughing. Dickweed.

You guys have a lot of fun, though!! Seeing Belphie excited is always a treat for you. And, though he doesn’t say anything about it, Belphie also thinks it’s a treat whenever you scheme with him. You don’t join in on his mischief often, so he always cherishes the times you do.

Eventually, after soaking Lucifer thoroughly, Belphie eventually gets a bit tired. You, however, want to keep the fun going. So, just as he begins to dose off in your hiding spot...you spray him. Right in the face. 

He opens his eyes and sees you raising an eyebrow at him challengingly, giggling to yourself. He growls playfully and grabs his own water gun, quickly giving chase as you bolt. 

Being a demon, he’s much quicker than you. But he lets you think you can escape for a few minutes before catching up to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

As you squirm and laugh in his embrace, he feels thankful he joined in on the fight, even if he was hesitant at first. After all, it led to this moment, where he can turn you around in his arms and give you a nice kiss as you melt against his chest.

[hotwings0203]

Okay I’m at work rn and I just got this weird ass call at the front desk. This dude called asking for a reservation and I was like aight lemme transfer you to our reservations department, and the dude was like “it’s my wife’s birthday.” I said “oh well tell her I said happy birthday,” AND THEN he was like “it’s actually our anniversary.” And I was like “…okay…tell her I said happy anniversary??” AND THEN WHEN I TRIED TELLING HIM THAT I WAS GONNA TRANSFER HIM AGAIN HE WAS ALL “wait before you do, I have to tell you something.” And I was like OKAY MAN JUST HURRY UP IDFC he said “my wife says you look beautiful today.” And then I hung up the muthafuckin phone cuz who the FUCK was I to deal w that bs💀💀 sooo, in honor of that I’m gonna write a lil’ shigaraki thing that was inspired by that phone call

Tw:stalking, creepy shiggy, noncon implication, cultish behavior?

You awake to your phone ringing at your bedside table. It’s in the AM, maybe 2 or 3. The night is quiet save for the dull buzzing next to you, and the whispers of the wind spiraling through the trees outside your window.

Bewilderingly, you grope around in the darkness to locate your phone before picking it up and cracking open a bleary eye to check the caller ID.

UNKNOWN CALLER

Extremity begrudgingly, you hit the green button.

“Hello?” Your voice comes out groggy and coarse from your slumber remnants.

“Beautiful girl”

Both eyes are open now.

“Who is this?”

“You don’t know me…but I know you.” The voice across the line is almost as raspy as yours yet slightly shaky. There’s a weird clicking noise in the background.

“Who the fuck is this, and why are you calling me at-“ you turn your head to check the analog next to you. “-three thirty four in the morning?”

“Because I wanted to formally introduce myself as your new owner.”

“My new-what?” You snap and lift yourself on one elbow. Just because of the chill that races down your spine, you squint around the darkness of your apartment. No one was there, so then why couldn’t you shake the feeling someone was watching you?

“You heard me, pretty cockslut. In a few days from now, I’ll be waiting for you, right at your door. I’ll have a collar and leash waiting for you so you can properly be my little bitch in heat.”

Your hands unconsciously fist the sheets underneath you, and you try not to let your voice wobble when you respond.

“I’m-is hanging up now you sick fuck. Don’t call this number again, or else I’ll track your number and call the police.” But you find that when you try to tap the red button, the call still continues. You hit the button again, but no difference. You start to frantically turn your phone off and fiddle with the volume buttons to wake your screen out of its frozen state but the call still continues, the person on the other line keeps rambling.

“What did you do to my phone?”

“Whatever I need to do to talk to you one on one. Tell me Y/N, would you prefer your dog bowl in pink or red?”

“I’m not choosing either, fucking bastard. Tell me who you are!”

“Aww, come on now, be an obedient pet. Use your big girl words and let your master know what you like. It’s the only time I’m being nice, I’d take the opportunity if I were you.” The clicking on the other side of the call multiples, as if we were typing away at dozens of keyboards.

“I’m calling the police.” You spring up from your bed and search the room for another landline phone or anything where you could contact someone. This was insane, you weren’t putting up with this bullshit.

“Sure, go right ahead. I can’t wait for them to see you naked, on your hands and knees, pussy drooling and mouth watering while you suck my cock in front of them.”

You yell in frustration and panic as the clicking noise grows louder, the volume swallowing up your thoughts and musings.

“Fuck, what the hell is that noise?” You raise your voice now, your remaining sleep swept away in the currents of adrenaline.

“We’re all waiting for you, Y/N. You’re such a pretty girl, don’t you wanna share some of that beauty with us? We wanna see you mouth opening, face down ass up for us, working your pussy on all of our cocks. We wanna see you getting fucked against all the surfaces of your new home, against the windows, on the basement floor, in the shower, on the bed. I wanna be on top though, above everyone else under and over you, would my little bitch in heat like that?”

Your mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out. It’s silent outside, as if the world were holding its breath on the same moment as you. But on the other end of the phone, you could hear it.

Along with the clicking, there were moans. Different pitches and tempos, but the grunts and groans were definitely audible. He spoke above them, claiming his place above his subjects.

“Oh no, did I scare you off already? It’s okay, you’ll get used to us soon enough. Think of this as training. You’ll soon know your place well enough once initiation starts. All your holes will be open-“

The moans grow louder. They gasp so loud you’d think they were being murdered. The clicking grows evermore.

“-And you’ll be out on display for all of us to touch, and feel, and taste, and listen to while you just take it, take it, take it like the good little bitch I’ll force you to be”

“Leave me alone!” You half sob as you run over and pick up your phone, looking around wildly and unsure of what to do.

“I’ll plug you with so many drugs and chemicals that you’ve never even heard of just so that you’ll crawl to me on all fours and beg me to fill you up again, with anything I want.”

“You’ll kill yourself just to be anything to me”

You think you hear the groaning and sighing on the other end evolve into screams of satisfaction, but you can’t tell over the ringing in your own ears.

“So sleep well my precious babyslut. I’ll come for you soon enough.”

And the line goes dead

[midnight-dreamerness]

Savior

Chapter 2: Finding Strength

(This is NOT my gif. Credit to the creator <3)

series summary: when your protector returns, he finds you broken and abused and helps you climb out of the darkness

chapter summary: you finally have had enough and you find the strength to escape

pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

warning: mentions of death, acts.mentions of abuse, mentions of self harm

word count: 2.1k

-

Quitting the job you love was really hard. After your brother died you got back together with Kade after a short break in the relationship, you moved in with him. You didn’t have the best relationship with your parents, and it only got worse when Danny, your brother, died while overseas.

You walked into the apartment, your head bowed trying to hide the tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. He’s already home, you saw his car in his usual spot in the parking garage when you pulled in. You could also make out the sound of the tv playing in the living room.

You headed towards the bedroom until he called your name, making you turn and slowly make your way into the living room.

“Did you do it?”

There are empty beer bottles everywhere along with a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table. You sighed but nodded nonetheless, playing with the hem of your blouse.

“Good. Start cleaning. This place is a mess.”

And you did what he said, all day. He made you scrub the floor down with a scrubbing brush. You had to clean every inch of the apartment, while picking up the trash he left behind him all day. When night came, you had officially cleaned everything and cooked him dinner. You sat down at the table, ready to eat after not having breakfast or lunch all day.

“What are you doing? You think you deserve to eat? No. You're going to sit there and think about what you did.”

With sad eyes and an ache in your stomach, you didn’t fuss. You didn’t even say a word. You didn’t want him to see you cry so you held it in as much as you could. You hold back sobs, it creates a burning feeling in your chest and throat.

After you got home yesterday, Kade had been enraged. Accused you of cheating, he didn’t even mention you telling Jay about the abuse. It was worse because it was Jay. He knew your background, and how you fell in love with him when you were younger. Last night's memories were fuzzy after that. All you can remember was the agonizing pain and the god awful headache you had after he slammed your head against the kitchen counter. Kade has made you quit your job, you weren’t sure why.

Kade wipes his mouth with a cloth once he’s finished eating. “I try to be nice to you. But you test me. Every single day, you test me.” He stands from his seat at the table, coming closer and closer to you. You look up at him pleading with your eyes.

“Worthless. Pathetic. Get up.”

You do as you're told and stand up. He roughly grabs your arms, dragging you down the hall. You think he’s heading towards the bedroom but he stops at the hallway bathroom. He opens it and tosses me inside.

“This is your new room now. You should get comfortable,” he snarls. You're on the ground now, groaning. He takes the chance and shoves his foot into your chest.

When will it stop! When is enough, enough for him? Why am I not good enough? What did I do that made him so violent?

These things run through your head as he continues his abuse. Pain and suffering, blood and tears are things you have gotten used to.

It’s an hour later when he stops, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he stares down at you in disgust. You look at him weakly and in pain. You're almost positive you need medical attention, but you say nothing.

“Cheating whore,” he spits. With one final look, he’s gone. The sound of the kick in the bathroom door clicking, only making more tears pool in your eyes.

What has my life come to? When did it get this bad? How did I let it get this bad?

The bathroom floor was ice cold, even with a towel laid underneath you, you were still freezing. You know he bumped the temperature down, torturing you even when he wasn’t at home. You twirled the card between your fingers. His name sticking out along with his number.

Deceive Hay Halstead.

You remember fourteen year old you, rushing into your brothers room where he and Jay were playing video games. You remember how excited you were when you told the both of them you got the lead role in your dance group.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jay had exclaimed.

You wondered if he would be proud of you now.

Would he?

There’s so much history between you and Jay, a lot of things your brother never knew about, and now he never will.

It’s been days since you saw him. You can still see his smile and his perfect white teeth as he spoke to you. You can still feel his body against yours from that day he had you against the wall.

You should’ve told him. You're filled with regret. He could’ve helped you get out.

I wouldn’t be in this stupid bathroom if I had agreed to let him help me.

You could’ve called him the day he made you quit your job. You could’ve driven off, anywhere. Somewhere, where Kade couldn’t find you.

Yet, here you are. You have a few - a lot - new bruises that have replaced the old ones. There’s still a harsh pain in your chest and your stomach from not having eaten in days. You know it’s been at least a week.

He comes and goes. Sometimes you can hear giggles pass down the hallway to your shared bedroom. Then…you can hear him pleasing other women in your bed. The ones he would love you on, on good days.

But no…he is with other women while the woman he should be with is withering away down the hall.

You didn’t scream, you should’ve. You know that now. You were scared he would kill you or those girls. You wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if something happened to them because of you and your stupidity.

So you sucked it up.

It’s been two weeks. Yesterday had to be one of the worst days. You recall the rage burning like fire in his eyes. He was angry, more than usual. Something must’ve happened. Either way, there’s no excuse for what he did.

The cuts along your back sting like hell. You begged him to stop, and it was a mistake. You should’ve let him beat you till it was out of his system for the night. If it’s even possible, he got angrier. He threw you into the bathroom counter, your back crashing into the mirror, causing it to shatter agains you. Your thigh had hit the faucet, creating a huge bruise on the back of it, but nothing hurt worse than the pain in your heart.

“Pathetic slut,” he snapped before walking out, locking the door behind him.

You sit on the floor only a day later, staring at yourself through the glossy flooring. A large shard of glass sat next to you, your eyes wander to it ever so often. It tempts you. Taunts you like a clear voice in your head.

“Do it.” It would say.

Then you would hear the sound of his voice. Familiar, warm, and inviting. Your heart aches. You miss him.

You can see him at the elevator, waiting for it to open while he looks at you.

“You’re strong. Remember that.”

You wonder why you pushed him away. Why you don’t let yourself trust the one man, that still lives, that would never hurt you.

A sob racks through your body as you pick up the large piece of the mirror and throw it across the room. An aggravated scream leaves you as you stand up with trembling legs.

How could I let this happen? Why didn’t I ask for help? The abuse has gone on for three years.

Your throughts were only “why” and “what if’s.”

He’s taken everything from you. Ripped you from your friends, your old life. You didn’t even notice at the time. You just needed someone. You followed him blindly. He told you you only needed him. Nothing - no one else.

I lost myself trying to please him.

You decided you're done letting him win. You're done letting him control your life. Your choices were dying here in this bathroom helplessly, or die trying to get out. You chose the latter.

You searched around the room in a haste, looking for anything to break the doorknob off. Your eyes trained on the top of the toilet. You take it off, arms falling at the weight. You are weak from the two weeks with no food, but you still find it in yourself to raise it over your head and lm it down in the knob.

You weren’t sure the exact time, but Kade would be home soon. So you knew you had to hurry

One hit didn’t seem to do it, so you raise it again and with a grunt, you use all your strength to slam it back down again. Your mouth falls open in surprise when the knob falls to the floor with a loud clanking noise.

It took you a moment, but you dropped the lid and rushed out of the bathroom. You made your way to the home phone, picking it up with shaky hands.

You're hit with a wave of dizziness, but you still dial the number you now know by heart. You were filled with hope when he answered after a couple of rings.

“Halstead.”

“JJ?”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone for a second, but soon he repeats your name.

“I want out. P-Please help me,” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you pathetically spike.

“Address. I need an address.”

The sound of the front door unlocking catches your attention. Your body goes ridged, frozen in place.

Jay repeats your name a couple of times.

“No. No,” you mutter as you begin to back away.

“Hey! What’s going on? I need an address, sweetheart.”

You somehow manage to tell him the address with a, “please hurry,” at the end. You hang up, throwing the phone to the side. You're filled with dread as Kade stumbles into the room, pulling at his tie. You're starting to regret what you just did.

Kade narrows his eyes, ripping his tie from his neck.

“How the hell did you get out?”

He stalks towards you, and although your first instinct is to run, you stay put. You're done taking the abuse.

“I’m done, Kade. We’re done.” You stand your ground, head held high and a new found confidence in your words. He laughs. It’s evil and sickening.

“We’re done? I say when we’re done!” He exclaims, his hand rising and connecting with your face before you had the chance to move. You fall to the floor from the power of the slap. Although you act confident and strong, you're weak. Two weeks without food would be the cause. It didn’t help that you were still in pain from the most recent beating.

You let out a cry as he pulls your hair back with a huff. “When will you learn?” He asked, pulling your head back so you were facing him.

“You look pathetic,” he laughs. You're slapped in the face once more before being dragged towards the kitchen by your throat. You grabbed at him, your instincts kicking in.

“God, your stupid,” he spat, shoving you into the table. Your eyes widen as you feel your skirt, the same one you’ve worn for two weeks now, being pulled around your hips. You felt hopeless now. You only hoped Jay would be here soon.

“At least you're good for something.” You heard him mutter before the sound of his zipper being undone filled your ears. You clamped your legs together and attempted to move, but it was no use. He overpowered you easily. You cried softly as he moved closer and held you down with a deadly grip on your bruised and cut back.

There’s a knock on the door that paused Kade’s actions. He hissed and pulled away, fixing himself.

“Who the hell did you call? Did you call someone?”

The look of fury in his eyes was enough to have you cowering in fear. A scream rips from your throat as he grabs you by your hair again.

“CPD! Open up!” You heard his familiar voice. The same voice you heard as you laid on the bathroom floor.

Kade’s grip on you tightens. “I’m going to kill you, you little bitch.”

~

A/N: Small cliffhanger? Yep. Chapter 3 should be out Tusedsy! If you want added to the Saviors taglist let me know!

@miranada0102 @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @kelelas-life

(Not sure why some of these didn’t work.)

[caramel-velvet]

Boundaries

DamiRae Smut Week Day 1: Free Day

First time writing for this pair but have read fanfics of them for ages now. 

2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Damian had been in Gotham for a while now, and based on the conversations they’d managed to have, Raven suspected that it would probably be another few weeks until his skills weren’t needed and he could return to the Tower. They’d never apart for so long since becoming a couple. Something she hadn’t realized until he pointed it out one morning when he’d call during her morning cup of tea. 

She could try to calling him, but if he was on patrol she wasn’t entirely sure if the call would be answered. They were still setting boundaries, both professional and personal. The initial reason they had taken too long to truly put a definition to what was going on between them before was to not ruffle any feathers, no pun intended.

Raven’s phone went off in her hand, Damian’s name flashing in bold letters. She didn’t hesitate to bring it to her ear, feeling nothing but elation to hear her name fall from his lips. 

“Raven.” She didn’t think she’d ever tire of hearing her name when it came from him. She bought her free hand to clutch into a fist over her chest. “Where are you?”

Laying back, she looked at the floor to ceiling windows across from her. “At the tower.” She murmured. “You?” She closed her eyes trying to listen for any background noise to figure out if he had been on patrol or simply back at the manor. 

“Home.” He sighed, his voice tight.

“Are you okay?” Raven attempted not to get worked up. Quickly remembering boundaries, if he needed her help, he’d ask. She caught the hitch of his breath, and although they were hundreds of miles apart she recognized the tension in his voice. A minuscule smile graced her normally stoic features. “Are you naked?” She wasn’t going to hold back her curiosity, they’d discussed that.

“I couldn’t help myself.” He glanced up at his ceiling, “I wanted to hear your voice.” Damian couldn't help but be honest, knowing he’d been caught. 

“As much as I love hearing from you,” she couldn’t help but try to ignore the heat falling past her stomach “I may just hang up if that’s all you called for.” 

“I miss you.” He groaned as he tugged himself, imagining that it were Raven’s hands wrapped around him.  

“Are you sure it was me you missed?” She teased, her voice raspy as she tried to figure out if she could continue to hold out on Damian. “Or maybe you just miss not having to use your hands all the time.” 

“Are you off tonight?” He needed her, and it was possible that he could have her, the only thing stopping her from opening a portal was him. He just needed to say the words. “Come to me,” he commanded. He couldn’t help but think of all the things he would do to her once he had her in his bed. His tongue ran over his lips when he heard her gasp. As much as Raven likes to be in control of everything around her, there were moments when she reveled in relinquishing full control to him. He could imagine the sounds she’d make, the way she’d taste, and dear god the way she’d feel. 

“I have training tomorrow at noon.” She pointed out, not exactly sure why she was making excuses to feel his body against her own. 

“Fine,” She thought he had dropped it. “I’ll go easy on you. We can take it nice and slow.” He smiled at her practically sobbing out his name in a silent plea, “I’ll even let you start off by sitting on my face.” Damian heard her breath catch on the line, knowing she was still listening “You can grab my hair and ride my tongue just like you love. Wouldn’t you prefer that?”

Boundaries and their set rules be damed, before she could register her own actions, Raven caught herself opening a portal as she clutched her phone in her grip, the object falling right out of her hand when her eyes landed on Damian, propped up on his bed, dick in hand and eyes on her too clothed form.

Tagged: @damirae-smut-week

[honeyatsu]

Loner (Junpei x F!Reader)

Reader implied POC! but ofc anyone can read <3

warnings: none that I can think of

Summary: 

Junpei was suspicious of you. He always felt the world was filled with people who were naturally evil in some way, until you came into his life and challenged his theory.

masterlist

Spotify playlist - all the songs I listened to helping me write this story. lmao and songs that helped inspire some parts. Think of it as an unorganized soundtrack. 

AO3

a/n: Hiii. He deserved better. I was rewatching and got mad all over again. The first time I saw his character arch I almost threw the whole show away lmfao but I can’t wait to continue the manga during summer! There wasn’t enough content so I decided to make some. 

The familiar dark marble floors were all Junpei would keep his eyes on as he walked to his next class, the chatter of his fellow classmates bouncing around the walls acting as background noise he would attempt to mentally cancel out. Junpei didn’t bother to look anyone in the eye, it’s not as if he had anyone to look forward to seeing anyways truthfully. High school was supposed to be a place where the best memories were made, but Junpei couldn’t relate to those empty promises of those being his best years. Everyday feeling as if there was a target on his back for his unfriendly peers; he would do his best to hide within the shadows he felt comfortable in, doing his best to make himself as invisible as possible. His only goal was being to survive the day without being bothersome to others.

Just as before, staring at the ground and ignoring the chatter going on in the classroom he made his way to the conjoined desk in the back of the room. He sat on the desk and began pulling out the material, his first time raising his head during the day to scan the room, everyone but one other person having a sitting partner. It didn’t sting him that he was sitting alone, that’s how things usually went for him. He was either alone or ostracized, finding being alone the better option of the two.

As the teacher began to lecture about the importance of being prepared for the advanced chemistry class, Junpei began to scribble down in his notebook taking notes already. His eyes didn’t leave his notepad until he heard the large bang of the classroom door hitting the wall.

“I’m sorry for being late!” you screamed while bowing to the class, panting and catching your breath with your hands now holding on to your knees. It was easy to tell that you ran to class and still managed to be notably late.

The teachers rolled her eyes at you, unfazed by your obnoxious entrance in the classroom. “Just choose a seat.” She scowled before returning to the beginnings of her lecture.

Your eyes scanned the room before you noticed the empty spot in the combined desk in the back, you didn’t even look at the person who would be sitting beside you, you just knew you wanted the desk farthest away from the front to prevent being called on during class.

Junpei on the other hand cursed himself as he saw you rush to the seat next to him; he knew that the seat was your target as soon as he noticed your eyes land on it. He recognized who you were, he knew who your friends were. Why would you sit next to him? What was your plan, to mock him? His heart was beating rapidly the closer you got, his palms began sweating. He doesn’t know if he can manage being picked on in class, he has never had a personal interaction with you but what made you different from your friends?

You rushed your way to your seat and began to drag the items from your bag onto the desk. Your elbow accidentally bumped into the classmate next to you, the physical action causing a small yelp from the boy. You finally turn to see him, the first thing you noticed were his eyes, they were the kind of green that would kiss over the ground during the beginning of spring time, probably the prettiest green eyes you’ve ever seen. His hair was brown and reached his shoulders, with one bang large enough to cover the right side of his face. You were too enchanted by his appearance that it took you a while to see how uncomfortable he was. His body was slightly trembling as your elbow was still making physical contact with him, his eyes slightly widened, he wasn’t even trying to hide how uncomfortable he was with the accidental physical reaction along with you staring at him as if he had three heads.

“Sorry.” You whispered to him removing your elbow from his side and looking down at your stationary materials, organizing them on the desk. From the corner of your eyes you can see him looking down at his desk, his body was stiff, and you could tell he was still uncomfortable. “If me sitting here bothers you, I’ll move…. it’s just this is a hard class and I don’t want to be called on all the time and embarrass myself.” You turn to face him and see that he still isn’t looking at you. “But please put up with me. I promise I won’t distract you.”

His eyes perked up while hearing your last sentence, he didn’t expect you to have such a kind and sincere tone. He finally brought his head up, slighting turning his head to face you. He couldn’t point out where he’s seen eyes like yours before, and he saw the small smile formed on your lips. People have smiled at him before and he can usually tell how people are feeling by looking at their eyes. He was good at reading people, he had to be just to survive. But he couldn’t read you, he couldn’t tell how you were feeling towards him. He doesn’t remember the last time someone showed him any sort of sincerity.

“No…it’s fine. You can sit here.” He managed to whisper out while looking back down scribbling down some notes.

Fifteen minutes went by, the class slowly dragging out and it being harder to focus. Junpei’s head was starting to feel heavy, he didn’t regain complete focus until he noticed the ink getting lighter on his notebook. He scribbled fast and hard, trying to get ink out before realizing it was completely dry. He cursed himself in his head, his day just starting and already something had to go wrong. Hearing the sound of rough scribbling on the paper your eyes darted to his side, seeing the pen drag only putting scratches on the sheet.

His head turned towards you out of curiosity, hearing the aggressive rustling from you digging in your bag. Your eyes focused and face scrunched up in concentration, your tongue slightly sticking out. He wanted to think you were cute, but he knew who your friends were, and that group was anything but cute. While he was deep in thought about how unfortunate it was that he already knew the type of person you were by your crowd, he almost missed the sense of accomplishment displayed on your face as you pulled out a packet of glitter pens. Your smile grew as you turned to him, realizing he was already looking at you. You were satisfied with the first instance of eye contact with your desk mate. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks; he didn’t need a mirror to know the red hues were forming on his face embarrassed with getting caught staring at you.

“These are my favorite pens.” You whispered to him, still looking at him not caring that he looked away for a second. “I only share these with my friends.” His eyes grew wide, were you going to rub in his face that his pen went out on him? What kind of teasing was this, for you to make fun of something so small? He was appalled that he knew he was right, you sat next to him just to -

“So, lets be good friends, okay?” You cut off his train of thought as you placed a dark blue glitter pen on his desk. He slowly turned to you, seeing the same smile on your face from earlier, the same smile he couldn’t quite read.

He nodded back at you nervously, his hands shaking as he grabbed the pen you placed onto his side of the desk. You nodded to him as you returned to focusing on the lesson, knowing his nod was his way of saying ‘thank you’ without speaking.

Junpei had trouble focusing on the rest of the lesson, hands still shaking while using the pen you let him borrow.

                  ---------------------------------------------------------

Your body ached as you dragged yourself out of the school grounds. Cheer club just ended, and you were exhausted from learning the basics of it considering this would be your first time being in the cheer club. The sun was out still, slowly going down making the sky a mix of yellow, orange and red. The only thing you could think about was going home and hoping that your mom had left over food from the dinner the other day.

While walking to the direction of your house you noticed a boy with a slender build a few feet away from you, and once you saw the long bang you grew excited, recognizing him as the boy you sat next to in class. All the energy you lost regained quickly as you ran up to your new friend. “Hey!” You screamed as you ran into his back, tripping on the cracked ground while making your way towards him. You held on to his sides to prevent you from falling, his body tensed up at the sudden contact and you screaming at him.

His heart dropped, he thought he was able to go an entire day without being picked on. He was confused, he didn’t think you’d bother him too. He made sure to not get in anyways way today, he just wanted a day where he could be in the background and be left alone, but at the last moment of him being on his way home you appeared out of nowhere and ran into him. Were you trying to push him down? Did you get angry he never gave the pen back? Were you being kind to trick him before you finally got to pick on him like the rest of your friends?

“I’m sorry!” You squealed out. You removed your hands from his back and walked towards him, giving him a tired smile.

You apologized for hitting him, why did you apologize?

“Didn’t mean to run into you! I just left my club and saw you walking, I wanted to say hi. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, again.” You laughed out awkwardly. Junpei gave you a confused look. He was suspicious of you, what did you want from him for you to constantly acknowledge him unprovoked? Sure, he’ll let go of the class interaction. You guys were desk mates, you were probably being cordial. You lend him your pen because you noticed his ran out, unlike your friends you at least had common decency. But why would you come up to him outside of class? What could you possibly gain from talking to him outside of having to?

The pen. Once he remembered he never gave it back, he retrieved it from his pocket and brought it out, extending his hand out to give it to you. “I-I never said thank you. Here, you can have it back.”

Once you saw what he was trying to do you laughed at his actions, “I gave it to you silly. It’s yours to keep! I mean we’re friends after all, right?”

His breathe got caught in his throat, he felt unable to respond. He tried to find any signs of malice in your face but couldn’t find anything.

“Oh, right. I sound funny declaring friendship when I don’t even think I’ve given you my name! I’m y/n.” You said with a smile.

For the first time, he returned it back to you softly. “Junpei.”

You opened your mouth to say something back, but your next sentence was disrupted with a loud growl from your stomach. Your eyes widened in embarrassment as your squealed and brought your arms to your side, squeezing your stomach.

“Sorry!” you said quickly, “I just left my club. It was a lot of work today, my body is exhausted and I’m starved.”

Junpei laughed at your reaction, you smiled realizing you got another first from him today.

“Hey Junpei, are you busy?”

“Uhm, I was just going to walk home now…” he replied back to you softly.

“How about we get some ramen! I know this great place not too far from school. I was gonna eat at home, but there probably isn’t food anyways. And you’re here so I don’t gotta go alone! You’ll love it I promise, it’s so good.” You continued to ramble on. You didn’t even give Junpei a chance to respond to you before you grabbed his wrist and dragged him along to the direction of the ramen restaurant. You were walking in front of him as he was being dragged behind you, you were holding onto his wrist the entire way there. He was glad you didn’t get a chance to see his flustered face the entire way there.

        ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re seriously not going to finish?” Your voice was muffled due to your cheeks being stuffed with the food in your mouth. It was hard not to stare at you while you were eating, he’s never seen a girl eat so aggressively or fast. You took a big swallow of the remaining food in your mouth, his eyes grew wide noticing your bowl, completely empty. “How embarrassing, I’m done already.” You whined out noticing his bowl looking as if its barley been touched.

“I don’t eat much.”

“I guess I should have asked if you had an appetite before I invited you. All I did was embarrass myself.” You sighed as you leaned back in your booth, rubbing your bloated stomach for comfort.

“I-it’s okay! Um, I’m…sorry?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his flustered expression, “You’re real funny, you know?” You took out your phone and whined as you noticed how late it was getting. “It’s getting so late and I totally forgot I had chores! My moms gonna kill me!” You hurriedly got up and grabbed your school bag.

Before you walked away you turned to Junpei, “I hope we do something like this again one day.” And with that being the last thing you said, you ran out of the restaurant and headed your way home.

Junpei was in his head the entire way home. This by far had to be the most confusing school day he’s had. He tried not so hard to think about the classroom interaction, but then you basically forced him to hang out with you after school hours. Friends weren’t something Junpei had a lot of, he grew up being bullied and it followed him even at the age of seventeen. Outside of his few club members, he didn’t really talk to anyone let alone see them after school.

He’s seen you around before, you were pretty popular. You were always surrounded by friends; he can’t say he was fond of any of them. You declared him as your friend, but didn’t you know what your friends did to him? He couldn’t tell if you were genuine, and he wasn’t ready to let his guard down yet. This was too suspicious for him.

All he had on you so far was:

You were very peculiar, your aura screamed kindness but it could be too good to be true. He had just met you after all.

You had a problem with being on time.

Him being in his head made his walk home seem quicker than it usually was, time flew by as he was mentally theorizing who you were as a person and what was your plan with him. He didn’t even hear his mother greet him as he walked in, asking if he was hungry and ready to eat.

“Junpei? Are you not going to eat?”

“Hm?” He finally looked up from the ground facing his mom. “Oh, no. Sorry. I didn’t tell you I went out to eat after school. With a….friend.”

next

[wlntrsldler]

champagne problems (s.b one shot)

PROMPT: based on champagne problems by taylor swift. Y/N leaves to protect her family and Sirius waits for her.

WARNINGS: mentions of death, death, angst, fluff?

WC: 2.2K+

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

champagne problems (s.b one shot)

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Sirius whispered, scared of the situation in front of him. You’d been distant all day, as if something was bothering you. With Sirius, you were always so carefree and at ease because he knew exactly how to make you feel better, but this time, it seemed Sirius was at a loss. 

You refused to look at him. He felt his heart shattering every time he called for you and he got no response. He tried to be patient and not push you, knowing your stubbornness rivaled his. So he sat quietly and let your mind wander off into new places as he watched you slip away from him— until finally, he could bear it no longer. 

“Sirius,” you sighed, using all your power to push yourself further away from him. You held a hand up, keeping him at an arm’s distance as he tried to get closer, “I have to leave.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, a look of genuine confusion etched on his face, “What?”

“I have to go,” your voice betrayed you, cracking in mid sentence as you tried to explain why you had to leave. “I’m muggleborn. After the McKinnons…. They’ll try to take my family next, I know it. Sirius, you have to understand.” 

“I can help protect them,” he rebutted, eyes darting everywhere, as if trying to figure out how he would do that. “We can do this together, you know? I’m getting better and better everyday since Hogwarts, Y/N. We’ll put up protective charms a-and we can fight. Yeah, we’ll fight—”

“This isn’t your fight, Sirius,” you explained, wiping your tears, “You have your own family to protect. Moony, Peter, The Potters! James and Lily and young Harry! The Order needs you, Sirius. I can’t take you away from your duties.” 

He shook his head, hair already messy from his constant tugging, “You’re my family, too! I don’t understand why I can’t help you.”

“I could never forgive myself if something happened to you because you were trying to protect me and my family.” 

“And I could never forgive myself if something happened to you! Especially knowing I could’ve helped!” Sirius exclaimed, his calm demeanor long gone. He wasn’t yelling at you, but his voice significantly picked up volume as the conversation progressed. His eyes were red, lips severely bitten as he pleaded his case. “I don’t understand why you have to go! They’re okay, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Sirius, you’re not listening to me!”

“No, you’re not listening to me!” he replied, marching over to you. He held you by your shoulders, looking at you straight in the eyes, “You… You can’t leave, Y/N. Not right now, not ever. We already lost Marlene and the Prewetts and Godric, if I lost you— If I lost you, I wouldn’t know what to do. We’ll put your family under protective custody and we’ll make sure they don’t touch them, you hear me? But you are not going off by yourself.” 

“Sirius, I can’t have you pulling strings for me. The Order needs people here. They need people to fight. I’m expendable, Sirius, don’t you understand? Nobody is going out there to protect muggles. No one.” You held his face in your hands, leaving soft kisses on his skin. He closed his eyes, crying brokenly. You continued, “I have to go, Sirius. You need to stay here. They need you, Sirius Black.” 

“What about what I need?” he whispered, gripping your waist. He showed no signs of letting you go. In fact, his grip on your waist tightened, afraid that one falter in his movements, you’d walk away. He wasn’t ready. “I need you.”

You knew then that Sirius understood why you had to go. If the Potters were ever in danger, he’d drop everything to make sure they were safe. Although he wasn’t Euphemia’s and Fleamont’s son by blood, they treated him like he was. You grew up with a loving family— one that Sirius longed for and finally got after meeting young James Potter on the train in their first year, and Sirius knew you had to go. But it didn’t make it any easier on him. 

He opened his heart to you, and there was not a day since that he regretted doing so. He was broken and bruised and for a while, he thought he was incapable of accepting love that didn’t come from the Marauders or the Potters. You came along in his fourth year, trailing behind Lily Evans who was asking Remus for some help on Transfigurations, and you beamed at him with that sunshine smile and he was done for. 

Sirius fell for you, hard and quick. He was in love with you before you even entertained the idea of Sirius Black in your life. Growing up, he yearned to be loved by someone and he never thought that the mere idea of falling in love with someone like you would feel just as good as feeling that love he craved. You had such a big heart, Sirius knew that but a part of him still thought there was no space in there for him. As pathetic as it sounded (Remus’ words— though he said it with a small smile tugging on his lips), Sirius would’ve been okay with that because to him, it was an honor all on its own to love you, even if it wasn’t reciprocated. 

The day you told him you loved him, all the heartache and pain that young Sirius Black endured all his years suddenly felt like nothing. Sure, the trauma and the hurt will always leave their mark on him, but now, once those words left your lips, Sirius Black knew that he would be okay. He had you. 

Sirius spoke again, “Y/N, this is probably the worst time to do this but I never had good timing, did I?” 

“Siri,” you whispered, gasping into your palms as he kneeled down on one knee. 

“I don’t have a ring. Uh, the Black family has a ring we pass down every generation but obviously, I was not blessed with such,” he chuckled, playing with your fingers. “I may not have a ring but I have my love and I’m hoping that will suffice for now. Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

Nodding your head furiously, you mumbled a shaky, “Yes.”

Sirius laughed, getting up on his feet to twirl you around your living room. He buried his head in your hair, wanting to memorize your scent. He kissed your neck softly, muttering his undying love and affection. He spun you around until you were both too dizzy to stand and you collapsed on top of him on your couch. 

You giggled, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. You rubbed your thumb across his cheekbone, kissing the tip of his nose, “I love you.” 

“I love you,” he replied, “I promise when you get back, I will put a ring on your finger.” 

When you get back. 

“When I get back,” you confirmed. 

-

James whistled, inspecting the ring in the box, “Blimey, Padfoot. This is beautiful!”

Sirius smiled proudly, eyes gleaming with excitement as his friend examined the ring he picked out for you. Since you left four months ago, he went on a hunt for the perfect ring, “Thanks, Prongs.”

“She’ll love it,” Remus added, putting down the newspaper that he was reading, “When is she coming back?” 

“When it’s safe enough, I suppose. That’s why we have to win this war, gentlemen. I would like to see my fiance as soon as possible.” 

Lily laughed, holding Harry by her heart, “I would also like to see my best friend soon. Harry also does miss his Godmother.” 

“He babbles her name whenever he sees the stuffed lion she got him,” James added, getting up to wrap his arms around Lily. The picture perfect family looked so happy to be with each other. It almost made the other two boys in the room forget what was going on outside the doors of their home. 

Sirius got up to take Harry from Lily, rocking the baby back and forth as he smiled fondly at his Godfather, “I miss her too, Bambi. We’ll see her soon, yeah?” 

Harry made some baby noises, laughing with his chest as Sirius pulled funny faces. He couldn’t help but think about how nice it would be to have one with you. Remus popped his head over Sirius’ shoulder to watch the baby and Harry immediately made grabby hands at Remus. Sirius passed him over to his best friend and sat back down on the Potters’ couch. He picked up the box that James left on the table and stared at it lovingly. 

Then, a bright light entered the room, startling all its occupants. A patronus. 

It was a black dog, one that mirrored Padfoot, and it ran around the room before stopping right in front of Sirius. Lily ran to Remus and grabbed a hold of Harry, who buried his head into the crook of his mother’s neck. James rushed over to his family, wrapping a protective arm around the two. Remus stood there, stunned. 

Sirius knew it was your patronus. 

Before anyone could make another move, your voice rang in the room. 

“Sirius,” you gasped, sounding out of breath. There was chaos in the background, he could hear it. His heart dropped to his stomach. No. 

“Sirius,” your patronus said again. “They’re here. There’s too many of them and— Sirius…”

“No,” his eyes were wide. Remus placed a hand on his shoulder but he couldn’t feel it. Lily looked away, hiding into James’ chest. Harry began to hiccup. 

“Sirius, I love you. I love you so much. So so much.” 

Then the black dog disappeared. The silence was eerie, even young Harry stopped his noises. Sirius dropped the ring, falling to the ground right after it. 

Remus kneeled down, holding him up, “Padfoot…”

“We have to go,” he breathed out, not looking at anyone in the eye. He faced straight ahead, his mind spinning too quickly for him to make sense of his thoughts. Sirius began to breathe unevenly, clutching his chest like it might burst. 

“Okay, Pads,” James nodded. He looked at Lily for confirmation. She tipped her head, holding Harry even closer than before. She knew. 

Without another word, the three boys apparated straight to your old home. Sirius promised to you that he would never try to visit you or check up on you until the war was finished, afraid for his safety and yours. But he had to break his promise. 

When they arrived, the house seemed empty. Nothing seemed out of place until he walked into the kitchen and saw your parents on the floor, unmoving. Sirius paled as he looked up at the ceiling and saw the symbol of the Dark Lord and his followers etched upon it. He ran up the stairs, tripping over the steps and his feet, bracing himself for what he already knew. 

The door to your bedroom was opened a tiny bit. It was large enough for Sirius to slide his foot in and open completely. He stood still. 

Sirius could hear the rushed footsteps of his two best friends chasing after him up the stairs. When they reached the final one, they stood behind Sirius, a gasp leaving their lips. The two boys began to cry quietly. 

James placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder, “I’m so sorry, Padfoot.” 

Sirius knew his friends were crying. After years of living with them, he knew the tone of their voice when they cried. He learned that. He knew that he should’ve been crying too because it hurt so bad. It felt like his heart was ripped out of his body and discarded but Sirius decided that not even that would hurt as much as the image of you lying lifelessly on the floor in front of him. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t feel anything. 

He walked closer to you, ignoring the howling of the wind coming from the broken window to his left. He stepped over the items knocked down by the fight. He was walking so slowly, afraid that if he were to come any closer, it would suddenly become too real. As much as he dreaded to get too close to you, he finally did. 

Sirius clenched his jaw, a rush of cold air washing over his body. He stared at your face, remembering the color of your eyes and the happiness that once occupied it. He leaned over to shut your eyelids, not wanting the gray clouds in your irises to overtake the happy memories he had saved in his mind. His eyes trailed down to your left hand that rested on your chest, black, veiny lines growing on your skin. You used it to try to block the curse from hitting your heart. Sirius stared at your unmoving, bare ring finger. 

It wasn’t until Sirius looked down at your stomach did he finally fall to his knees. He sobbed over your body, still warm from the impact, with a loving hand on top of your once growing belly.

**NO LONGER DOING GENERAL TAGS BUT THESE PEOPLE EXPRESSED INTEREST

@vereseg @teenagesublimefan @whoreforfredweasley 

read the james version here 

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Inspired partially by the twitter trend of The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It and just in time for Valentine’s Day! 

Gender Neutral Reader Insert. 

Enjoy my masterlist!

Support me on KoFi!

__________________________

While sitting in the car, you watch out the window. Folks buzz around you--some folks looking content, strolling about their day. Others are flitting around, a bit of crease in their forehead. And you feel for them. You know those days where there’s just not enough hours in the day to get it all done. Or it’s when one thing sets off a spiral of all terrible things. Or when you just don’t wake up on the right side of the bed. You know that crease all too well because currently you were having a bad sleeping week. 

You were getting tired when you were supposed to but the second you put your head on the pillow your brain was hot wired--keeping you up with all the things you needed to do, hadn’t done, all the appointments you had kept pushing off. It was finding the littlest things to find that anxiety and keep you staring up at the ceiling. Calum noticed the tossing and turning and tried his best to lull you to sleep this week, fixing you tea in the evening, getting you off your phone or laptop a couple hours before bed. He even started reading to you, but your ears picked up on the white noise of everything in the house. Your brain picked up the embarrassing memory that you hadn’t even considered in decades and now holding it in front of your mind’s eye for hours on end during the week. 

Like right now, you should’ve been at home sleeping. Your work was giving you a long weekend and you really could’ve used the time to catch some extra Z’s, but you were, admittedly, a little scared to stay home. Sure maybe you did fall asleep cuddled up next to Duke. But you worried that you’d stay up, worry yourself sick some more so when Calum told you he had some errands to run you immediately tagged along. The time running around would hopefully tire you out enough that when you got home you could actually fall asleep. 

So after Calum’s personal training session in the morning, which you sort of tagged along for, but mostly went through your own routine and getting a solid breakfast, you two were now buzzing around from store to store. Calum had gotten most of the grocery the other day, but he forgot a couple things so your first objective was to grab those and bring them back up. He then had to go to the post office to mail out his mother’s birthday cards and a few other things. 

While in the line at the post office, your head tucked into his back, Calum got a phone call from a guitar shop on the other side of time about a new model that had just come in. Calum had been eying it for ages, but he didn’t want to be reckless with his money especially after getting some work on his teeth and to the house. So he asked the guitar shop to keep an eye out for when more stock arrived in case it sold out before Calum felt comfortable spending a large sum of money like that again. 

The store agreed to set one off to the side for him and could keep it on hold until the end of the day. Which was perfect--still gave the two of you time to get lunch. You didn’t need to get anything, didn’t need to do anything. But even after lunch, Calum made one more pit stop. Here now at the gas station, you sit peering through the windshield and can see a mother with her two sons walking from the doors. They boys hold brightly colored icees in their hand, each clutching a bag field with goodies. 

You aren’t entirely sure whey Calum needed to stop here for anything. It’s not like he needed stamps, since he got those at the post office. He hadn’t pulled in to get gas. Lunch had been filling, though you tried not to stuff yourself too much just because you knew that on a long car ride, the last thing you wanted to do was be uncomfortably full. 

The door opens again, Calum strutting through with his glasses covering his eyes and resting comfortably atop the chubby cheeks. Barely hanging from the crook of his fingers is a brown plastic bag. The doors click open and he climbs into the driver seat. The guitar shop wasn’t that far, but today seemed to be a busy day on the road. Took you all too long just to get to the grocery store this morning. 

“Snacks?”

“Was craving something sweet after lunch.” 

You peer into the bag as he hands it over to you. Some gummy bears, gum, a bar or two of chocolate you can’t quite tell. You set it onto the floor at your feet. “Let me know when you want something.” But he’s already tearing into a Twix bar when you glance at him. “Or not,” you laugh. 

“The other stuff is for you--if you want to indulge. Can’t forget ya,” he pushes the glasses down for just a moment to wink at you and then looks into the rearview mirror. 

“Do you think you’re going to get this one?” you asks as the SUV rolls out from the parking lot and onto the asphalt of the highway. 

“Hmm, maybe. Gotta see how it feels first.”

You nod at his question, resting your head into the cushion of the seat. And it goes quiet for a while. The radio plays softly in the background, and every so often the packaging crinkles as Calum downs more of the chocolate and caramel treat. 

“Valentine’s Day is coming up soon,” Calum states, while paused in a bit of traffic. “Got any ideas on what you want to do for it?”

You think for a moment. Valentine’s Day has never been your thing--being perpetually single does that to a person. “Restaurants are going to be a nightmare.”

“Yeah, they will be.” Another crinkle comes from the right side of the car and then his arm reaches behind your seat, finding the small bag of trash you stash there--though you have to be careful when Duke sits in the backseat. Generally though, he doesn’t mess with too much. “My mom sent me a recipe of hers. It’s really good.”

“I’d be down for cooking.”

“Nothing else? Don’t wanna go sky diving? Give me another heart attack?”

You laugh thinking about the first birthday you spent with Calum together as a couple. “You didn’t die.”

“But I did almost shit myself.”

“You can play on stage to thousands of people, but no, jumping from a plane is a no-go.”

“Yes, because I am a sane human.”

You huff out a small tuft of laughter and turn to look at him. One hand on the wheel with the stainless steel linked chain dangling from his wrist. His other arm is resting against the door, gently tapping out a beat with his long slender fingers. “Do you want to do anything?”

“Valentine’s Day,” he scoffs. “How long have we been dating? When have I ever been dying to do anything on some random day in February.” His statement doesn’t fall venomously from his mouth. He even looks over to you with a smile. “I don’t need one day out of 365 to declare my love for someone.”

And it’s true. While Calum wasn’t super accepting of love from new people, while it took you months to show Calum that you were trustworthy and not someone to keep at an arm’s length, once he cracked open, he oozed adoration and love for people. And you knew it was a defense mechanism. You knew that when someone did care as hard as Calum did it wouldn’t always be an easy thing to win over. 

Calum, when he finally let someone one, loved hard. It could be a random Tuesday in July or a Sunday in February, and he would make sure his love was known. He never needed a special occasion to send flowers, to cook dinner, to offer to drive you to doctors appointments because he knew that sometimes you got too nervous or flustered by them to drive but did manage to push through if absolutely necessary. He’d easily pick up some gloves and an extra sponge if he saw you wiping down the walls in the kitchen or wiping through the counter. He kept fridge cleaning days marked on the calendar. And when you added reminders to wash bed sheets to the shared one, he also include rest breaks for you too. 

Calum had never needed someone to force him to show appreciation. 

“I mean, there is the option to literally do nothing on Valentine’s Day. Like treat it as any other day.”

“That’s still something,” he countered, turning on his signal and switching out from the middle lane. His exit was approaching in another mile and a half. 

“Oh fuck off,” you laugh. “We can’t cease to exist that day. Bare minimum we need to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide.”

Calum laughs softly, showing some of his teeth too. “Fair, fair. There’s another Netflix documentary coming out, true crime one. I forget what it’s fully about, but I think it’s about a serial killer if you’d be down to start it then?”

“When would I ever turn down the opportunity to be a detective with you?”

“You haven’t yet,” he states with laughter in his voice. 

“And I never will.” The ramp takes the two of you down and down and soon you’re winding through streets and not too far you can see the shopping center coming into view. He pulls into the lot of the shop and the two of you step out in unison. 

The bell above the door chimes as he opens it for you and you smile often in your thanks. “Hey, Calum!” one of the guys at the register calls out. The store is fairly empty. But you’re not shocked on a Tuesday afternoon. 

“Hey, Derek. How’s it going?” Calum heads directly over to the counter and you look up to the left wall, at the records on display.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the second guy states to you, “or if you want to see anything.” He’s younger than Derek, both look to be equally tattooed from the pieces that peek out from the short sleeve work shirts, but his face is significantly brighter. 

“Thanks,” you return and go back to the displays. You can hear Calum and Derek chatting but slowly tune it out, make it background noise to the music playing through the speakers. 

You turn to walk towards the back where more instruments sit and you can see Calum leaning into the glass display of the counter. The palms of his hand pressed into the metal edge. The sunglasses sit on top of his head and you notice the younger guy glancing over at you again.

He nods again and then goes back to his computer. Nothing else is said. And you look over the stringed instruments, ukuleles, some violins and then you spin around again, done with that lap and go to head up to Calum. “See anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “You’re the musically talented one. I just nod and smile when you talk about it.”

Derek returns, a case in hand. He comes out from the hinged doors that separate the sales floor from the registers and back of the store. You scoot a little closer to the display as the case is transferred over. Calum takes it easily heading to the corner you just abandoned to sit and check out the instrument. It’s a beautiful deep green, almost reminds you of the thick Washington forest. The body is slender. 

“That’s a pretty cool color,” you note, watching Calum work his fingers over the frets. 

He grins up at you. “Think so?” You give another nod. He doesn’t inspect it long before you can see the desire to give in crosses his face. 

Derek’s standing close by and you turn to him and keep your voice as close to a whisper as you can while still being heard. “What’s a bass like that cost?”

He rattles off the price, one eyebrow slightly raised over the other. You know Calum will riot--he’ll pitch a fucking fit. But you reach into your wallet and slide out your card. You had been saving--for a year. You wanted to do something big for Calum. You just didn’t know what it was yet specifically though you had some ideas, a bass was top of the list.  But you didn’t want to try and go out and buy a bass without consulting him, without getting an understanding of what he liked. You thought about maybe a really good leather jacket and some more boots. He loved the ones he had, wore them as much as he could. 

And when you mentioned possibly getting him more, he told you the ones he had were still in good shape. Calum wasn’t the type to just buy clothes to buy them. He indulged here and there, but always made a point to wear something he had down before replacing it. You’d tease the subject a couple more times after that, but he never took the bait and you weren’t going to force him into a thing he didn’t want or need. 

But it’s clear to you that this is something he wants. But he’ll tussle with himself and never give in on it. It’s pricer than you thought it would be. But you too were being smart, having finally paid off the last of your car, you start moving those payments to savings and it helped a great deal. You were fine. You get insurance and the whole deal as Derek advises. By the time you slide the receipt back across the counter, Calum comes back to the registers. “I appreciate you holding it for me, man. But I don’t think I can right now.”

Derek looks at you and you look down into the glass. “It’s--it’s yours, dude.”

“What?” Calum breathes behind you. 

“They-uh, they paid for it,” Derek says, nodding at you.

You can feel the heat in your body now and spin around to face Calum in a rush. “Consider it a not Valentine’s Day gift.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Ever since I finished paying off my car, I saved the payments to do something nice for you. Didn’t know what it was going to be for sure. But I know you, Calum. You’d want something and tell yourself no. I mean you can treat yourself sometimes.”

“You-you didn’t?” His eyes are rapidly blinking, head shaking like he doesn’t want to believe you. Like he can’t believe you as his mouth mumbles out, “No,” repeatedly. 

“It’s yours,” you nod. “It’s really yours.”

If it weren’t for the weight of the bass, you’re sure Calum would’ve tipped over, maybe even rushed to Derek to hand the case back over, but instead he’s weighed down, chained to this spot in the blue speckled carpet of the store, still repeating, “No,” softly. 

“‘I hate to break it to you, but you’re gonna have to find space in your office for it now. Because I refuse to return it.” You step forward, find the handle and slip your hands around it taking it from Calum. A small grunt leaves you and then you start to the door, throwing a thanks to Derek. 

The lights to the SUV blink and you can hear the locks clicking open as you push open the door to the store. “Wait--what are you doing?” Calum asks. 

“Open the trunk please,” you ask. 

“Let me do it,” he demands, stepping in close to take the case with the bass now. “What the fuck did you do? Baby, this is expensive.”

“It’s not a Valentine’s Day gift,” you answer again. “Because I love you. On a random Tuesday.”

He gets the instrument safely into the trunk and then closes it, watching dumbly as you climb into the passenger side. He walks to the driver seat and climbs in, taking you gently by the chin. “That was absolutely reckless and unnecessary-- ”

“I am just absolutely reckless and unnecessary then,” you counter, “because I’m not returning it.”

“--but thank you. Thank you so much,” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Then it’s silent, as the two of your gaze at each other, watching what could almost be tears well in his eyes, but they don’t fall. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a person like you, but whatever it was, I’m glad I did it.”

“I’m glad you did it too.” The two of you return home, Duke rushing to the front door as the two of you step through it. Calum safely places the bass in his music room/office and returns shortly after to help you decide on what to order for dinner. 

As the two of you settle onto the couch, Calum takes your hand and presses a kiss to teach knuckle. “I’m gonna teach you how to play.”

“You know we’ve done this before.”

“And you were good at it.”

“I was alright at it.”

“It’ll be your bass,” he whispers. 

“I bought it for you,” you return tossing your head back to look at him. 

He kisses your lips. “Yeah, but it’ll be the one that I teach you to play for real one and it’ll be yours--just as much as it is mine.”

“A true sap,” you laugh, but nod and return your focus back to the TV. 

In the week that follows, Calum makes sure to take an hour in the evenings to set you down and pick up on the lessons. They fizzled out as work for the both of you picked up. But now things are a bit more calm. He sits next to you, assessing what you remember from last time and correcting finger placements as needed, but they go smoothly. 

When Valentine’s Day does come, Calum pulls you back into bed for just five more minutes of sleep. And five minutes turns into half an hour. But finally you two pull yourself out from the sheets, figure out what to do in the midmorning that results in food being consumed and then you slowly gravitate towards different sections of the house. 

There’s still a bit of laundry to be done and Calum takes Duke out for just a little bit. The two of you migrate back together by mid afternoon. He finds you making a quick lunch and presses a kiss to your cheek. You turn to face him, squeezing at his. “I bought some face masks,” he offers. “Care to join me in doing the bare minimum of converting oxygen into carbon dioxide after your lunch?”

“Don’t see how I could pass up such a wonderful offer? You want anything?” He shakes head, mentioning grubbing on some of the leftovers earlier while you took a nap. 

With your lunch done and the plates cleaned, you find Calum in the bedroom and let him know you’re ready for the face masks. He shuffles to the bathroom. “I hope I got the right one for you,” he mutters. “I got them forever ago it feels, so who the hell knows what I got.” His laughter is soft as he rummages through the bins under the skin. 

“I’ll be in the office,” you tell him and he nods, still pulling bins out. You settle into the couch and spy the green bass still on the stand from yesterday. You pull it into your lap and sling your arm over it. The amp next to you is off, you know but you still pluck away at it as if it were on. 

Calum shuffles in a few minutes later. “Um, babe. It’s off.”

You don’t reply but do look up. He holds up three different packages. “Here’s to hoping one of these is worthwhile.” You place your bass back to the stand and take one that sounds like one you’re okay with using. Calum hands you a towel so you can wipe your fingers off after you get it placed onto your face. He helps get it right and then you help him with his and the two of you slip onto the couch, legs entangled and leaning into opposite ends of the couch.

You laugh at Calum’s story as you scroll mindless through app after app. In the boredom you snap a picture of Calum with the face masks on and don’t think too much of it, saving it to the album with all the silly and cute photos of him are--there are tons. 

“I mean the sun is a star. Though the ones we see have been dead for a long time.”

Calum taps your leg with his foot. “It was a simple question--to be the sun or the stars. I didn’t ask for this philosophical crisis.”

“Why would it not weigh in your decision! If you’re a star like the ones we see at night, you’re technically already dead. You wanna be dead?” You huff, sitting up. 

“I mean, no, but c’mon.”

“It’s a valid thing to consider, that’s all I’m saying!”

He laughs. “Okay, sun or the moon?”

“You first,” you return and just then your alarm on your phone goes off. The two of you shuffle back to the bathroom and take off the masks. 

“Moon, maybe,” he counters. 

You nod. “Fitting. When should we get started on that recipe of your moms? Is it super involved?”

“Nah, it’s pretty easy. Normal time should be good. I’m going to read outside if you want to join.”

“Maybe in a bit.”

Calum nods, grabbing his book as he passes through the bedroom and the patter of Duke’s claws follow behind him. You go back to the music room, turn on the amp and then actually play a little something. It’s nothing fancy--just the arrangement you put together with Calum as a practice exercise once. You play it for a bit, adding a little flair. When you phone rings, you pause to answer it. You wouldn’t normally, but the number looks semi recognizable so you answer it. 

It’s just a scam call and you hang up but then notice some other notifications. Before you realize it, you’re deep into Twitter. You’ve run across the trend of people posting pictures of themselves and their significant others with the caption, The Face Vs The Face Sitting On It. It made you laugh just a little bit at first. And then you kept going down the rabbit hole. Some are silly, most are good pictures. 

While it’s not exactly secret that you and Calum are dating, you two don’t post too much. Calum isn’t incline to post on social media in the first place and while you use it a bit more than him, you try not to post too much about him out of respect. However, as you look tap on quote retweet and bring up your photos you think maybe one silly post wouldn’t hurt. So you grab the one of him recently with the face masks and then one of yourself--it’s silly too, a little blurry too in the darkness that it was taken in. 

You hit post and watch the likes come in. Then keep scrolling. Eventually you have to put the bass away and peel yourself from the couch to find Calum and see if he’s hungry enough for dinner. Just as you round the corner to the office, you spy him stepping through the glass sliding backdoor. “Hungry?” you ask. 

He nods, “Yeah.”

The two of you, with Duke trotting ahead, make your way down the hallway and into the kitchen. “You’re funny,” he states, washing his hands first. 

“Thank you. I’ll be here until you kick me out.”

He laughs. “No, the pictures you posted. On Twitter.”

You’re shocked that he noticed it that fast. Normally it took him a bit longer to see silly stuff like that. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Nah. What I hope you don’t mind is my reply.”

At first you’re nervous. Calum could’ve gone one of two ways--super silly and broke out even worse photos of you possibly not sober or he went super on trend with it and pulled out a photo of you done up for a date night. Not that you preferred one over the other, but sometimes you liked to keep your relationship light on social media. It was easier that way. There wasn’t any real pressure that way. Though the fans seemed to have enjoyed it when you posted more posed and serious content. 

You liked to keep it a bit more real. You and Calum didn’t do the whole nine yards a lot--you two were normal people who hated getting out of bed some days and went as well into the afternoon before showering at times and walked Duke and went to doctor’s appointments like everyone does. So you always opted for a bit of a joke, a silly Tweet or photo whenever you could. 

“What did you post?” you ask. 

He shrugs, taking up the knife to dice the onion. “I’m not telling you.”

You glance at the printed out recipe and get a pan on the aisle over medium heat before pulling out your phone. As you load the app, you listen to the snap of the knife fitting the wooden cutting board. You type Calum’s name and tap onto his profile. 

While there’s is silly--I do want to take a moment to show off my favorite person in the world. So here we go, The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It. Below is attached a picture of him--you snapped while you two were out for lunch one day. The black t-shirt tight around his biceps as he slyly grins into the camera. The lights in the background are just barely in focus of the resturant and Calum’s glancing out of the window next to him. You remember that you were recording him, or at least you thought you were, and told him that he was handsome. Not the first time, but everytime he did, he blushed and turn away. And you captured it here too. 

The photo of you is actually one with him in it. The guys got together and did a big family dinner and the two of you posed at Crystal’s request in the slightly matching outfits. You hadn’t intended to match--though black was a staple in both your wardrobes. You were a bit different thanks to the pop of color in your shoes, but in the lighting of the street lamp, you had to admit that you did look hot. The first couple of  buttons on your shirt you were undone and with your hands tucked into the pockets, you looked like you owned shit. 

“While I hoped that you’d go with something more silly, I will take this,” you finally say. 

“That picture is literally my background for a reason,” he returns. 

You kiss his cheek and then trace over the stubble with your teeth to his ear. “Can I make a reservation for tonight?”

“The table is reserved for you literally at all times,” he returns in a breathe. 

“Good,” you laugh and then glance back to the recipe.