#i swear when i get home im drawing this digitally

[coreplush]

as you can see i am having the normalest time of it right now (trod owns my entire soul)

[jin0]

been seeing a lot of matchups in your blog lately and I wanted to give it a go. ❄️

Gemini, INTP, bi-ace. 158 cm with straight black hair and tan skin. My outfit style is emo/punk. Pretty much just blacks and reds. Interest lies in world history, digital drawing, writing, musicals, and otome games... Too much of a romance sucker that these fictional men have raised my standards a bit too high. That and romance books too. A bit of a neat freak even if my mind is a jumbled mess. I love learning in general so I would always have one day interests or queries. The other day I wanted to learn how to do a full split (didn’t work out but still trying), yesterday learned European etiquette for the nobility. That kind of thing. Very much an introvert, no I will not come out but when we do go out I’ll make sure to put my full attention to you and the event and only whine in my head when we go back home about how tiring that was.

I may also have a thing for being marked (kind of like cute aggression and they just randomly bite or nip me) but its not as if I’d say that out loud lmao. I may have a resting bitch face but I swear I’m a bit naiive when it comes to social cues and not mad at ya. I once had a coworker during lunch deadpan tell me that the nearby school had it’s own McDonalds and I replied “oh that’s cool!!” with stars in my eyes and she then said she was joking. She felt bad at my enthusiasm. Well a lot of things are possible so I didn’t even question it. Another one would be the time I went on a bus for the first time in years and I shouted out to stop nowhere near a bus stop and everyone looked at me weirdly. It’s one of those embarrassing memories that haunt me.

baby imma be entirely honest with you ??? im just as naive as you. you could tell me abe lincoln is your grandfather and I'd believe you. i wouldn't even question it or the mathematics of this claim, id just be like 'damn, that's nice !! sucks that he got shot tho'

for you my fellow naive friend, i give !! :

both peter and gwen !! because us naive people deserve the double trouble couple 🙈

seating in the corner if the room, you frowned deeply while hearing both laugh on front of you. this was absolutely not funny. your predicament was not funny.

they were the worst for laughing at you had to suffer the memories of your own embarrassing past.

you know these moments in life that you get and they're so embarassing that they stick in your brain for like, forever ? and they come back to haunt you from time to time, sending you through a physically painful reaction ? these moments that you get and you wish no one around you was a mind reader because they had to be buried in the darkest corner of your brain, for the rest if eternity ?

well these moments you had a few, one of them worse than others. this moment you shared it with your boyfriend and girlfriend. you didn't really know why but you didn't mind. not until they started cooing at you and laughing very, very, very loudly.

you felt so embarrassed you hid under your own hoodie, tucking in your legs and hiding yourself on a corner of the seat. you whined and groaned as they laughed harder, giggling to themselves. this was absolutely humiliating and you hated them just enough to put dishsoap on their toothpaste.

"this is not that funny ! stop laughing !" you exclaimed, glaring at both as you saw peter roll to the floor.

your words had the opposite effect, making them laugh a little harder the more they looked at your face.

"this is... this is absolutely hilarious actually..." mumbled gwen, trying to catch her breath and get peter to stop rolling around on the carpet like an idiot.

he turned to you and collapsed on himself, laughing still. sick of dealing with his mockery, you stood up, marching towards him and stepping on him repeatedly.

"you buffoon ! stop laughing at me ! i genuinely hope you stub your toe on the sharpest corner there is out there !" you threatening, gritting your teeth when he only laughed hardee.

you watched him catch his breath, wiping tears of amusement from his eyes and sitting up to look up to you.

"you thought... you thought the school had a macdonald and you didn't question anything !"

"i was young !" you exclaimed to save faces.

"you were a worker ! you had a job ! seems pretty grown to me !" he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders and dodging your feet.

you narrowed your eyes as he jumped back up to seat back on the bed next to gwen. both stared at you, observing your displeased expression.

it was rare for anyone other than them to see you this vivid and expressive. you were known for your natural RBF and difficulty to communicate.

truth is, you weren't difficult to get through, you just needed to be comfortable and making you comfortable had been peter and gwen's mission as soon as they met you. both pieces of sunshine, you were the moon and god did they love their moon. you were the one who brought the stars out and revealed the many secrets hidden under your deep dark sky.

"you both deserve to get shat on by pigeons. mostly you parker. i hope while you're doing all that swinging, you crash into a bird and it bites you."

"bunny, birds don't have teeth." frowned gwen, smiling slightly.

"yeah they do ! you told me they did !" you screamed, pointing an accusing finger at your girlfriend while the boy tried to hide his face in her shoulder.

"i was kidding !" exclaimed the blond girl, laughing louder than ever. "oh my god, you're adorable !"

you groaned, hiding your face in your hands and going back to your seat. peter, being quicker than you quickly webbed the back of your shirt to pull you to his lap. you spun backwards, falling on both your lovers. they kept cooing at you while you attempted to flee from their grasps. you were being detained against your will and you would not stand this.

"stay still bunny, or i'll bite you." he threatened, kissing the side of your face.

you stilled automatically, your brain screaming for you to move. he knew which button to push to get you to listen. you were a sucker for marks and being marked, it wasn't you fault.

"awww, look at you listening so well. you really like it when he bites." teased gwen, her hands caressing your calves.

you glared at her, hiding your face in yours hands again. they would kill you one day.

"now that you're calm, tell us more about that school that had its own macdonalds."

nevermind, you would kill them.

[katsukikitten]

Part one, no real warnings yet. Enjoy!

Bakugou's personal phone rings from the pocket of his hero costume for the umpteenth causing his skin to pop. All the while Kirishima allows his ruby gaze to fall over the hot head, having a good guess about just who is blowing up his phone. Worry snatches at Kirishima's heart for a moment forcing the question from his lips, even if it meant regretting it. 

"Are you sure your mom is okay?" Bakugou freezes in his step, inclining his head to fix a garnet glare at his so called friend. He sucks in a breath to yell, body tense and in a fighting stance before his phone blares again.

"FUCK!" He shouts into the night with only Kirishima and the moon to hear. The trees swallow his frustration as he rips his phone from his pocket, answering it so harshly the LCD beneath the screen ruptures. 

"What?! What the fuck do you want you God Damn hag?! I'm WORKING! Saving LIVES!" It had been a long time since he had called his mother hag, long enough there was silence on the other line for a moment. 

Then much like her son she takes a deep breath and now Kirishima, the moon and the trees know why Mitsuki was calling at such a late hour. Kirishima sighs with relief nothing is so dire as life and death, although for Mitsuki it is. 

"IF YOU DON'T BRING THIS GHOST OF A GIRLFRIEND OF YOURS I SWEAR TO KAMISAMI THERE WILL BE NO MORE NUMBER ONE HERO WHEN IM THROUGH WITH YOU. IM GETTING OLD I NEED FUCKING GRANDKIDS. THINK OF YOUR SWEET OLD FATHER HE AIN'T GETTING ANY FUCKING YOUNGER!" 

"That's what this was about?! Ma for the last fucking time I don't-" 

"You don't what? One of those hoes you sleep with has to like even your rude ass. Bring a decent one home." And with that Bakugou is left with the sound of three tones and a ringing in his ear. He grips the bridge of his nose, having no earthly idea of how to get his mother off of his back, let alone find a woman. The phone rings in his hand again, the screen filled with dead pixels and rainbow lines causing him hot to be able to see. Somehow it registers his touch as he goes from memory to answer. 

"What you fucking hag?!" He screams into the receiver. 

"Wow. Rude." You reply with a bite, "Just calling to tell you boss that I'm clocking out, dickhead." 

"I-I thought you were my mom." 

"Oh and that makes it better?" What an ass! 

"Fuck you." He growls, looking at Kirishima's watch, "You're clocking out way too early." 

"No, fuck you. I requested to be off by this time MONTHS ago. You can ask Eijirou-san, you approved it so he made the schedule accordingly." You quip, twirling one of your knives in your hands, "Besides I've been working waaay too long today. Oh and I found that perp hours ago." 

"What the fuck?! Why didn't you tell me hours ago?" 

"I fucking tried, you ignored my call. This was my third attempt." You slam the knife through the paperwork on your desk wishing it were the hot head's thigh. You rise as your eyes glance over the clock. If you didn't hurry this stupid phone call up, you were going to be late. You needed to sneak in before midnight. 

"Still too early for you. Normally you want the OT." He bites, causing you to roll your eyes. 

Gods you hated this guy. 

"Yea, well tonight is different." You'd pay in the long run for leaving so soon but tonight was special. She asked you to be there the last time you saw her and you promised. 

You never break a fucking promise. 

"Some subordinate you are bitch face." He growls then an idea pops into his head. 

Subordinate. 

As in you reported to him, as in Bakugou Katsuki was your boss. And well you had to listen to your boss to some extent and he knew you needed money, you tell him day in and day out it's the only  reason you would even dream to work with him. 

Although he has no idea why you are so hard out for cash. 

So he sets the bait, offering you a deal you can't refuse. 

"Tomorrow is your planned day off right?" 

"Yea what fucking of it?!" 

"I've got a special mission for you-" 

"No." You interrupt, already feeling the exhaustion of your seventy hour work week stacking up. 

"You didn't even let me finish you ungrateful brat. It will be three times your pay for half a day's work. Cold hard cash." The other side of the line goes silent. Licking your lips you think over his offer, fuck, that would actually help get your head above water. 

The light at the end of the tunnel. 

If only you knew how dark this tunnel was going to be. 

"Fine. I'll take your stupid fucking offer." 

"Promise?" His voice sounds a bit different, a little bit of a tease to it, as if he knows something you don't. 

"What are we in kindergarten. Yea I promise, fucking headass." With that you hang up, rushing down the steps of the agency building and into the cold air. 

Your phone buzzes with a text 

BakaBoss: Meet me at the agency, 11am sharp.

You roll your eyes, turning your phone to silent as you watch the nightly set of nurses do their normal routine. Barely making it in time for the security guard and head nurse to make their way outside by the one way back door for a smoke. Both too lazy to walk around to the front of the hospital, sticking a thin splintering wood block between the jam and the door, giving you easy access to the stairwell. When they were far enough away you slip into the door, sure to place the wood where they left it before climbing the stairs two at a time, racing the clock at the top half of the 11th hour. The janitor would have already mopped her floor and the only nurse on floor six was currently on the ground level half way through the small tobacco stick, she wouldn't be sticking her head into room 609 anytime soon. 

You draw in a deep breath, collecting yourself and forcing back the tears as you picked the lock, a skill set that not only were you amazing at but the very same skill that landed you here. 

And by here you mean stupid ass hero work all thanks to some "reforming" program by Izuku Miydoria. Still it was better than having to break out of jail in order to make cash, her bills weren't going to pay themself. 

You stick a stolen credit card in between the door jab and the door, right at the locking mechanism, although you could break out of just about anywhere, this would be the faster method of escape. 

"Hey, sis, I made it!" You say softly but with excitement, watching as she keeps her back to you. Her eyes wide from a mixed cocktail of chemicals and trauma, she stares out into the sky, counting the stars. 

It would be one of those nights where she was too warped to tell you were there. With a sigh you sink onto her mattress. If you could even fucking call it that. It was more like a box spring with a fitted sheet over top of it, you were still figuring out how you could sneak a mattress in. 

"I got you something." You say crawling to sit next to her cross legged, she turns to you and it's like looking in a mirror. Except one of you is covered in visible scars and the other is not. Hers are more than skin deep. Seeing her dull gaze never gets any easier, she stares through you for a long time before she does as she always does. 

Lifting her hand gently to cup your cheek so her thumb can slide over your scar. 

"How'd you get this?" Her voice is barely hers and it grabs a fist full of your guts pulling them downward. Everytime she asks that question you see the shine of a blade, a swipe of a strong hand and vision filled with blood.

Yours, there's but never hers. You like to tell yourself that's what counts but maybe you had a hand in breaking her. 

You clear your throat, pulling a bag onto your lap. 

"Nevermind that." You gently guide her hand away from your cheek and to her lap. When she makes no motion for the gift bag you force a smile as icy guilt collects in your chest. 

"It's for our birthday silly! Can you believe we are 26 today?" You place the pillow on her lap and her hands slowly go to the plush material. 

For a moment she has returned, flashing you a smile as she pushing into the soft material before she flickers out again. Like a light with just enough current to wink in and out of existence. 

Time passes and the clock strikes midnight, white clad shoes stomp against the polished floor signaling it was time to leave. 

"I'll try to see you soon okay?" You lean over kissing her hairline before grabbing at the old, flat pillow. Shoving it into the gift bag as you silently bound the room. Pushing the door open slightly as you slip the stolen card into the back pocket of your black jeans.  With that you are down the hall and through the backdoor without raising any sort of alarm as usual. 

Suddenly your phone weighs heavy in your pocket as you think of what kind of stupid errand that asshole was going to put you on. The stolen card sings in your pocket, begging to be used. So you slip into a bar to give it a good use. 

&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

A blaring alarm yanks you from the bed in a sweating panic. Knife instinctively slashing the air before you send the blade into yet another digital alarm clock. Falling back into the mattress for just a moment's peace.

That peace doesn't last long once you show up at the agency. If anything is sours as you see Bakugou leaning against the bright white brick and in civilian clothes no less. 

"What's this?" You pick at his black dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his banded forearms.  He's paired it with a pair of black jeans, one knee ripped. Oddly it looks good together. Not overly dressed nor too dressed down. His vermilion eyes glide over your figure in your black body con hero suit. He sucks his teeth, hating this next part. 

"Called clothes dumbass. Speaking of we need to get you something fitting."

"For what? What exactly is this 'mission'?" 

"I'll debrief you later. Right now we need to get you new clothes." You laugh in his face before your rich expression turns deadly 

"With what money?" 

"Calm down, it's my treat Princess." He says with satire, the name sits odd on his tongue and even more odd in your stomach. He snatches at your wrist, "Come on before the stores get crowded and we get noticed." 

You find yourself in a shop filled with dresses and fancy blouses. All of which you hate. Bakugou seems to hate them too, too guady for his taste. Still he shifts through the soft silks because he knows his mother will love it. 

"Oi, you can't find a single decent thing here? I thought women loved shopping." 

"Yea for shit we like asshole." You hiss to him, having only found a pair of dark blue jean's. 

"Heh." He scoffs, rolling his eyes until he finds the perfect top. It looks decent and it could be your style. The one thing he learned about being undercover was to not stray too far from what looked natural or from the truth. 

"Put this on. While I find a necklace." He shoves the silky top into your hands and you look at the price tag. Suddenly anxiety burns in the soles of your feet soaring up to close your throat. 

"Bakugou. This is too much." Katsuki stops to glance over his shoulder, this is the first time you've used his name since he hired you three years ago. He sees your hand gripping at your bicep and he watches the rare tell sign that you're nervous as you chew on one of the scars that creeps onto your lip. He comes up to you, closer than he ever has been before, your senses flood with spiced caramel. 

"Oi." His voice is smooth, almost soft as he touches a ringed index finger to your forearm. You fixate on the shining black ring and your old habits have you thinking of six different ways to get it off of his finger. The thought soothes you as much as his voice surprisingly does. 

"I said I'm buying, remember you brat?" The teasing returns back to his voice before it turns gruff, "Now go change to make sure I like it. I'll be back in a second." 

A woman unlocks a small dressing room for you and once inside you hold your breath. Counting as you remind yourself that you cannot and will not steal anything of value while your boss was here. 

If you were any other person you would tap this Prohero's account dry, really rack up that platinum card you know sat in his wallet and sell the clothes marked up for a profit later. 

But even as much as you hated Bakugou, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. 

Instead you slip into the the outfit adjusting yourself this way in that as the neckline says enough without saying too much. The jeans curving against your figure in such a way doing as good as a job as your hero suit. You keep your steel toed boots as you step into the small hall with the three mirrors. As you turn this way and that Bakugou appears behind you, almost earning a knife to his gut. He forces the silver blade away before pulling out a necklace from a bag he just bought.  The gold chain is dainty, going through the top of the garnet making it seen as if it were a suspended droplet of blood. 

It marches the eyes that roll over you as he takes a step back before his harsh mouth breathes out a word. 

"Fuck."

Instantly it kills your mood as your lip pulls back over sharp teeth.

"Tsk. It's not that bad, God how do you get any pussy." You grumble, smoothing down the black blouse. 

"No, dumbass. You look...you look perfect." He stares into your eyes through the mirror, his smile growing wider as they wander over your scars and finally land onto that minimalistic drop pendant necklace. 

Over something you've never been able to have, something you always had to swipe from an unsuspecting neck and then pawn. 

"Now. I'm going to tell you here, in this store of crowded people so you don't cause a scene." 

"What?!" Anger already begins to bubble in your blood. The blades that kiss your flesh start to scream for relief. 

"From now on you have to pretend to be my girlfriend. Paparazzi are starting to swarm outside of this fucking boutique and my mom follows this particular trash tabloid since they love to use me as click bait. You just have to make it through dinner tonight and if shit goes south I'll pay you even more." 

[fathermarty]

Hello! I was wondering if I could marauders era ship request? My pronouns are she/her and I’m bisexual. I’m a Slytherin as well.

Personality: I originally come off as quiet, and aloof. It can seem standoffish but I don’t mean it too I just don’t trust very easily and am uncomfortable with strangers/new environments. I am my best when I am by myself or with my closest friends. With my closest friends I’m quite open, fun and talkative especially when talking abt things that interest me. Im quite the good listener as well when it comes to my more extroverted friends. Im also introverted, imaginative, creative, individualistic, reserved, structured and picky in my own way, all sprinkled with a little bit of sarcastic humor.

Hobbies: Digital Art is probably my biggest hobby. If I could I would spend all day at home with my trusty tablet and stylus drawing with an audiobook of my favorite novel/tv show running in the background. Apart from art I absolutely love working out. I kickbox and weight lift most days of the week. Lastly I love playing video games, spending time at comic book stores, the movies and coffee shops.

Interests: I work in the digital media arts and love creative coding, interaction design, and computer graphics. I think my favorite thing is that combination between the artistic and the technological.

Love language: this one is definitely acts of service.

Thank you!

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hello, hello! May I just say that you sound like you could be one of my bffs, you sound like so much fun to be around!

I ship you with Remus Lupin!

Now bare with me, because while you are both shy I just know for a fact that Remus would feel the need to always talk to you to get to know you.

Remus knew of you because you two had classes, but not too much because you were a Slytherin and rather quiet. (Unlike his other mates though he didn't have bad blood with Slytherins).

You stood out to Remus when he started to notice you when you would be either outside working on art, or on rainy days held up in the library doodling away. This intrigued him because Remus himself was never one for art.

It took him a while to finally approach you, mostly because he couldn't think of a way to ask you about your art without sounding creepy.

After a week or so of observing you, he realized you are friends with Marlene, giving the two of you something in common.

Okay side note, I feel like the bi-best-friend energy between Marlene and you would be unmatched. Like a dynamic duo in a way, a very fun gay way.

You started to become Remus' main focus, he was dedicated to knowing more about you. He noticed the way you came off shy and reserved until you were with Marlene or any of your close housemates. He loved to watch you talk animatedly about something you were interested in -- even if he had no idea what it was.

Anyhoo, Remus approached you and Marlene one day when you both were sitting under a tree, attempting to finally strike up a conversation with you.

"Hello Marlene, y/n," The smile on his face was small and reserved like running into you both was a coincidence, but you knew better.

"About time you actually talked to me, I thought I was going to have to take you down by how much you stare at me."

Remus swears up and down you only made a sarcastic remark because Marlene was there but you say it's because you were instantly comfortable with him.

It is hard to not know who Remus Lupin is, he is one of the famous Marauders at Hogwarts, and everyone knows him.

However, to you, he is by far the most tolerable -- and dare you say attractive?

Marlene invited him to go to the room of requirement with you and her that evening.

"Make sure you are dressed to workout Lupin," You told him, he laughed it off and took it as a joke.

Only when he showed up to the room of requirement in jeans did he realize you were not joking -- not even a little bit.

Remus swooned over watching you kickbox, something about a woman who had all that power in her and released it in a healthy way hooked him.

It became a thing where he would join you and Marlene for kickboxing, you both trying to teach him the techniques.

"Lupin how do you function with these long limbs and not knowing how to move them?!" Marlene screeched one night at him. Okay -- so maybe kickboxing was not Remus' thing.

Lifting on the other hand? He was all game. You didn't expect him to be as strong as he was considering he was tall and lanky. BUT you were wrong, the boy knows how to lift weights.

You guys would inevitably be friends before he realizes he likes you more than a friend, your lives became so intertwined it was weird to see one of you without the other.

On Hogsmead weekends you both would go get some coffee and hangout together while Remus reads and you draw. Sometimes Remus would read his book out loud for you while you drew so you had something to listen to. (You never asked him to do this, but he knew you loved it.)

Little gestures like that started to make you realize how special and safe Remus made you feel.

I imagine Remus asking you out in a supermundane way, that makes your heart swoon. I can see you both sitting in the Gryffindor common room late at night as he is reading his favorite book aloud while you drew. You would know this book by heart because he has read it to you like four times, which is why when he goes off script you notice.

"This is when I decide to take advantage of my story..." You look up to meet his eyes already staring at you, "... it would mean the world to me if you would be mine, my girlfriend. There isn't a day since I met you that I haven't been happy. Being around you has helped me grow as a person and overall made my life that much more enjoyable. I love you y/n, and I think I always will."

DAWWWWH I COULD CRY, I feel like the simplicity in this is what would make it that more special for you. In a moment where you two are the only people in the world, surrounded with things you love.

I also feel like you would maybe draw Remus -- Ope did I go too far?

Remus is so comfortable with you that he had no issue telling you about his furry little problem. I feel like you would respond something like, "So it's kinda like your man period huh?" Cracking a joke would let Remus know you didn't mind and also would make him smile.

ALSO -- I can so see you taking your drawings of Remus and showing him them to illustrate what you love about him. We all know he will get down on himself about his furry problem, but you start to help Remus love himself.

In return Remus does small acts to show how much he loves you. Such as learning the different types of perspectives in your drawings, and he would also personify your artwork with poems.

REMUS IS A SUCKER FOR CLICHES AND YOU CAN'T CHANGE MY MIND!!

I really hope I did you justice and brought to life why I shipped you + Remus together. Here is a small collage I put together that I think brings to life everything I just talked about. I really hope you liked it!

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[aeferkssr]

hi! can i request a matchup? im pansexual and my pronouns are they/he :) i go by franz and i like drawing, programming, and playing video games. i draw digitally, im a dog person, my mbti is enfp (even though im kinda shy and an introvert?) my favorite song is dr sunshine is dead and i sleep a lot

you programme? thatsa actually so cool what. people are telling me to get into programming because i like games but its really not for me. hope you find genuine joy in the hobby franz!

i see your fate and to whom it's intertwined with, the beholder of your heart is...

yanfei!!

☆ this one was actually a little hard but i have an idea for you ☆ ok so lets say that you isekai'd into genshin and was found by madame ping ☆ and she took you to her little table to talk about stuff when you met yanfei ☆ she of course showed interest in you because who wouldn't? you're from another world entirely! with different lifestyles and with different laws! ☆ she definitely asked if you knew anything about the law in your home and when you told her all the other stuff you did she thought it was really cool ☆ she thought you were really cool hehe ☆ how yall actually got together tho im not really sure.. ☆ BUT what i do know is that i feel like even though she has a lot to say (she kinda has to speak lots as a legal advisor) but she's always at a loss fr words when it comes to you <333

"yanfei sweetie, please come to bed" you whined to your girlfriend, who had piles of paperwork sprawled out over the desk in your shared room. "give me a minute franz, i'm almost done with this client's case," she said while picking up yet another piece of paper. "but you said that an hour ago..." you mumbled under your breathe. tired, and utterly sick of her persistence to continue her work at these ungodly hours of the night, you leave the comfort of your bed to walk over to your girlfriend, hugging her by the waist and putting your head in the crook of her neck. "franz honey, i swear i'll be in bed in the next five minutes. just wait a little ok. i swear ill be--" she quickly got interrupted when you picked her up from the waist and carried her to bed. "bed. now 'fei. im tired." you say as you cuddle her close to prevent her from slipping away. "hehe,, ok love"

☆ omg, you know all those dogs walking around in liyue harbour?

☆ you would feed them regularly and they would start to like you a lot

☆ and then when yanfei comes around that area the dogs flock over to her because she smells like you

☆feeding the dogs together <3333

☆ as a former yanfei main i allow you to date my daughter

[axelkai]

welcome aboard, AXEL NICKOLAI BRAXTON, student #1. we are excited to set sail with you ! has anyone told you that you look like jeremy allen white? according to our records, you hail from new york, usa, he/his, are male, and are here to study digital art. we also see you received a spot on the ss university because of your money — we won’t tell anyone. during your first few weeks here, other students said you were + fun loving, + social, but also - impulsive. it sounds like you spend most of your time at the sandbar. upon checking your luggage, we noticed you packed a sketch book brought from home. hopefully your roommates don’t steal it!

hello, buds, this is Lella, 23y, she/her, gmt-3. this is my new baby and i’m prob going to take a while before start fixing the theme. a basic nav is already up, though. under the read more you’ll see more info about him. im stilll working in his bio though, as I manage his family/bg story so it will be fitting! 

[[ BASIC INFO ]]

Nickname(s): Ax, Kai (friends), Nick (family).

Age: 25

Date of Birth: -

Orientation: he swears he is straight but he is actually homoflexible

Language(s) Spoken: english, spanish

[[ PHYSICAL ]]

Height: 1,71m / 5′7′’

Weight: 80kg / 176lbs

Faceclaim: Jeremy Allen White

Hair color: dark blonde

Eye color: blue

Tattoos: an eagle on his chest, an anchor on the left side of his neck +

[[ PATTERNS  ]]

Drug Use: marijuana counts?

Alcohol Use: not a weekend goes by without a drink.

Dreams: to have an art gallery of his own.

Fears: feeling trapped +

Hobbies: painting, drawing, cooking (though few know about this last one).

Habits: swearing, drinking coffee while working, hugging a pillow while sleeping, keeping wardrobe neat, having a irregular sleep schedule, driving waaaay too fast, falling asleep while watching tv, bullying people, being a destructive mess when pushed 

[[ PERSONALITY ]]

Positive Traits: fun loving, social, imaginative, adventurous, generous, romantic, caring

Negative Traits: impulsive, quick tempered, stubborn, rude +

MBTI: enfp - the campaiger                        78%  extroverted / introverted 22%                          62% intuitive / observant 38%                              48% thinking / feeling 52%                            29% judging / prospecting 71%                            51% assertive / turbulent 49% 

Enneagram: the enthusiast.

Temperament: sanguine

Moral Alignment: true neutral

Primary Vice: wrath

Primary Virtue: diligence

Element: fire w a few traits of water

[[ BIO / sketch ]] 

at school, Kai was not the best student; he never got interested in regular school subjects. would often skip classes and get in trouble, argue with a teacher he disagreed with, fight students he found annoying; his parents would get so frustrated every time they had to show up to meetings. 

not the brightest one; but not that he wasn’t smart, he just wasn’t compromised with whatever he didn’t feel interested in. on the other hand, he was good at skating and drawing. and his maquettes were the best of his classes.

eventually, after a particularly aggressive episode, when they placed him to meet a school’s counselor, they initially found it to be a disaster; he’d curse and bite the counselor, utterly angry because people thought they knew what was best for him— adults were not understanding.

but, you see, eventually, after some bribery with candy and cool games, he grew to put up with it. and, he would never admit it, but after letting the counselor a little bit in, here and then, he'd hear useful things that made his daily life way easier. 

as a teenager, Kai was better at controlling his aggressiveness. turned out that he was just really bad at handling frustration. but, well, if his aggressive impulses weren't that much of a problem anymore........ his partying days grew to be. getting out late, getting home early in the morning.

Kai would get home high or drunk every weekend, and his parents certainly weren't fond of it. though, as a playful kid, he'd get his way around their disappointment. not that he wouldn't feel bad at the way he just couldn't meet their expectations, he was only human after all.

he was still underage when he started making money out of his drawings and painting — and, well, eventually, even digital art. his parents got less worried about his future at seeing the money coming in. Kai didn't initially have big ambitions, professional or academic, but if he kept going he had a professional area he could make money from.

he got away from home at the age of 18; even though his parents were sort of caring ones, their frustrated expectations over his academic lack of interest were discouraging to deal with. he got himself into a cheap apartment, but near some friends of his, and got away just fine with life.

[...]

everything was cool until he figured his party buddy Cass would try and join ss. and so would his sister. he decided to tag along.... not with any intention with getting grades higher than mediocre, just to know more about the world and live this crazy experience. to be honest, he never thought he’d actually be draw in that online lottery thing....

some connection ideas while i dont get my wc list ready:

- someone that axel has bullied or bullies

- someone (female) he is currently dating (be aware tho that he is a closeted guy)

- someone for him to be a bad influence on

- someone to be a good influence on him

- partners in crime 

- party buddies

- an artist he admires the work of 

- someone that admires his work

[aloesarchives]

im sorry to hear abt ur situation! take it easy and don’t feel bad for not being able to write or post as much. that being said, do u think u could squeeze in a fluffy gaolang x fem!reader scenario where the reader is an artist and likes to use him as reference for practice? tysm!

Sure thing, Anon! Sorry if it's not as much as I usually write but I hope you enjoy.

Warning: Narrator(aka me) swearing

Having artists block is goddamn terrible. It's been like this for a month and you couldn't take it anymore. No matter how hard you tried to get inspiration, it either was an unfinished project or it wasn't enough to satisfy your artistic nature. The thing about you is you're a well-known artist that does digital but mostly traditional art. You always carry around a sketchbook where ever you go when the thought of drawing comes to mind. Besides doing commissions, you could draw something of your own free will without it looking like a bad art restoration project.

 But once you’re you know once you start drawing, you'll finish at least 3 art projects in a span of 3-4days. Now you just need something to get you going, but what should it be?

While you're sitting on the couch with your sketchbook in hand and chewing your pencil/pen, the clicking of the door snapped you out of the whirlpool of thoughts.

Gaolang's home from work

Upon announcing his return, Gaolang makes his way to the living room. Placing down your stuff on the table, you greeted your beloved with a kiss while taking his blazer to be stem later.

“How's work, Gao?”

“The same as usually, nothing too eventful.”

You nod your head and went to grab your stuff from the table. While walking back, the most random but inspirational epiphany came to your mind. Why not use Gaolang as one of your projects? You always used him as a reference and he doesn't mind it as long it wasn't time consuming. You used old videos of Gaolang’s fights for reference for most of your art work and one note you can make out was that he was beautiful in them. Then again, why wouldn’t he be beautiful? Anyway, your brain went into ultra instinct mode and straight started planning out the art piece. You practically spaced out so hard that Gaolang has been calling out your name for the past minute or so. Once your brain calmed down, you were faced directly with the Thai God of War and his chest.

“(Y/N), is everything okay?”

You looked up to make eye contact towards him with soft eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine Gao...”

He raised an eyebrow at your answer indicating that he know there’s more behind your behavior. You sigh as you were there was no point in getting pass him.

“Umm, Gaolang, if it possible if I come watch you train tomorrow? I promise I won’t get in the way of your training since one of your boxing matches is coming up soon.”

Gaolang was going to ask why but after seeing the way your hand grasp your sketchbook, he put two and two together and understood what you were going to say to him. He nods his head before going into your shared bedroom to shower and change into more comfortable clothes.

As the next day rolls in, you’re sitting on a wall bench while watching Gaolang practice and train. Although his primary martial art is boxing, he still does Muay Thai training as it would be foolish to forget it. While sketching, you would occasionally stop yourself and watch his movements and strikes. It was almost mesmerizing to see, from fluid clean kicks to the firm precise strikes. It was beautiful. It was also the way Gaolang’s sweat marbled his muscles and the clear focus in his eyes was something for sore eyes. Besides getting sidetrack, you admitted from time and time again that Muay Thai is a gorgeous Martial Art and sport. After all, being the Thai God of War’s girlfriend made you appreciate the art even more. 

By the time he was finished, you already had the sketch completed. Now, it just needs color and the outlining. It took some time but it was worth it, it was finally down. It wasn’t bad either too. You drew Gaolang in one of Muay Thai’s traditional poses and in the background was a roaring tiger that was surrounded by wisps of fire. It was a pretty awesome the more you looked at it. Not a lot of bright colors but the wisps of the flames are an eye catcher. You’ll probably hang it somewhere around the apartment since it looked nice. You asked Gaolang for his opinion, and he said it looks good while kissing your forehead to look at the painting. In return, you hugged his side, slightly snuggling him. 

As you stayed like that with Gaolang, you can for sure know your artist block was gone(for now) as other ideas start to spur up in your creative brain. Most of them involved you and Gaolang together. Those heavenly depictions/mythical peaked your interest, along with the domestic ones as well.

Maybe one about your wedding in the near future but that’s on you to decide

[save-yourself-stay-alive]

THINGS TO DO THAT MIGHT BE FUN OR COULD PUT A SMILE ON YOUR FACE:

watch prank videos on youtube

check out those old family photos your parents put together in a scrapbook and reminisce the good times, would be a lot better if you look at the photos with them.

do karaoke. no need to go to bars or anything, sometimes an instrumental or karaoke/minus one version of songs you love are available on youtube and spotify. just play them and sing!

have a sitcom marathon!

speaking of fun shows, if you're around my age (im 21), then you've definitely watched disney or nickelodeon shows. shows like iCarly, Sam & Cat, Suite Life of Zack and Cody, Drake and Josh, Victorious, Hannah Montana, etc.. those could still be so fun to watch! movies included too! High School Musical, Cheetah Girls, Jump In, Wendy Wu, etc., whateva you loved watching!

if you still have your siblings living with you, pranks couldn't harm them. those never get old.

always listen to new music! yes we all (?) have that one playlist that has the same old songs and has always been on repeat, sometimes just ONE song on repeat. but listening to new music is always so nice. you don't have to completely concentrate on a song at first, just have a playlist of songs you haven't heard as background music when doing stuff like homework or cooking or whatever. i swear even if you're focused on the main thing you're doing, for sure there's gonna be at least one song that will stand out and you'll like and you'll eventually add to your always-on-repeat playlist!

another on music: listen to movie/show soundtracks too! songs from films are always the underrated ones and usually from artists you've never heard of before but you'll definitely be thankful for finding out about them.

bookworm tip! when we got loads of books or ebooks, let's include fanfiction too 'cause they're great, we usually just read em once then that's enough and move to a new book universe, right? WRONG. lmao just kidding. just saying that re-reading a book or whatever you've loved reading is always a good idea! u might think it's a waste of time since you've read it and you could move on to a new book, but reading it at least once again could still feel like whole new experience! it's not just about the things you could've missed. ok let me explain. you've read it once, you've had your opinions and expectations on it, some met, some not. but since you're reading it again, you already know what's gonna happen. it's like you've experienced it already. you've learned something the first time you've read it, so this second time, you're gonna have a new approach to it. you're gonna come up with other things you wish could've happened. new ideas. you'd have a wider perception about what's gonna happen because you already know what's coming. because you've experienced it. because you've learned from it. it's like real life. you've encountered something the first time, you learn. next time it happens, you approach it differently because you've been through it before. there's always sooo much more to things honestly :)

put your fucken phone down for like 20 minutes or more and do anything, literally anything else, that would NOT involve the internet. do a household chore, rearrange your bedroom, go for a walk instead of driving, etc.

play with your pet!

watch videos of children tripping and falling down (if you're one of those weirdos who loves home videos like that, like me), or if laughing babies are your thing (which definitely isn't mine), look em up!

MAKE! ART! whatever type of art! trad drawing, digital art, doodles, video editing, sculpting, painting, taxidermy if u'r up to that extremity! this includes music too! compose lyrics, strum that guitar! practice beatboxing. also literature! write down fantasies or just memories! journal everything! BTW. no pressure in this! even if you don't think you're good enough, trust me you're good enough. it's always just the people around you that "rates" what you do, and you don't have to show other people what u do anyway! it's your choice. it's your expression. don't be afraid to get started. if you've started before and stopped, never be afraid to go back and try again. art, in whatever form, is always a good way to express our emotions and passion.

and LASTLY, also my favorite thing:

watch the sunrise/sunset! check what time it'll be in your country for the day, wait for it and watch the sky. sunsets are best at oceans or bays. but wherever you are as long as you're outside would do! personally, i prefer the sunrise. i like it when i see the sky from black, stars or no stars, then it turns colorful. the colors are always different from one another each time i watch them. sometimes blue and pink, sometimes yellow and orange, pink and orange, blue and yellow. i usually wake up really early to watch the sunrise, sometimes as early as 4am, or i don't sleep at all just so i can catch it on time. then i'd make coffee and have cigarettes the whole morning (i don't recommend smoking tho), listen to my favorite music, as i watch the the dark sky turn bright. when you've witnessed the morning officially started, it contributes to a good mood for the day ❤

these are just some of the things that i do when i catch myself starting to feel down. drifting yourself away from overthinking always helps, and i've listed these down just in case you need some ideas. altho yes i understand it can be sooo hard to make yourself do these things, but if you force yourself enough, you'd be thanking yourself in the end that you didn't give in to the horrible thought ❤

love you so much!

save yourself and stay alive 💖🖤

[fcrvcnt]

( alex fitzalan, cismale, he/him ) i just saw KIERAN WALSH walking down the street’s of provincetown the other day playing LOST by DERMOT KENNEDY out loud. rumor has it that the TWENTY-TWO year old is +ATTENTIVE, but can also be -DISTRUSTFUL — overall they’re an INTANGIBLE CONCEPT. they remind me of A GENTLE BREEZE RESURRECTING A HOT DAY, STORMY WHITE CAPPED SEAS, SMUGED FINGERPRINTS COVERING WHITE PAPER & RESTLESS NIGHTS .

hey, hi, hello!!! i’m bronny, i’m 22, i’m from new zealand ( possibly one of the worst timezones to be in but we learn to survive!! ) and i’m so excited about this group and being able to write kieran again  ( with an fc change bc alex?? newest love of my life, who does he think he is ?? ) ?? i’ve been missing writing him and been looking for a place but just haven’t found the right place.....until now!!! enough rambling about me though, lets get onto what you’re here for......

KIERAN WALSH

for the first 12 years of kieran’s life, you could say that his life was pretty happy and smooth sailing?? the walsh family were nowhere near rich but they were comfortable middle class. his father was a builder and his mother worked part-time as a kindergarten teacher. his childhood was nothing spectacular but it was full of love and happiness and that was the only thing kieran really cared about?? 

***ALCOHOLIC & ALCOHOL & ABUSE MENTION ***

but when kieran was around 13, his life took a turn no one really saw coming. whether it was the stress his father put on himself or it was old demons rearing their ugly head, kieran’s father turned to the bottle to self-medicate the darkness growing inside him.

it started off with small things. kieran’s father overreacting to tiny inconvenience at home and him coming home late at night. raised voices became the usual in the walsh household after that and kieran & amelia would both end up in his room attempting to shut it all out by going over the little cartoon strips kieran would create for amelia - eventually there was enough to make a whole little series.

slowly the walsh family drifted from middle class to lower-middle class thanks to kieran’s father losing his job and his mother retreating into herself.

kieran was 15 when he really took on the role to support amelia & his mother as best he could. kieran couldn’t care less about what happened to his father.

at 15 kieran grew up far quicker than any 15 really should. he got his first job and began trying to keep things at least just scraping by, because if he didn’t there was a real chance that he, amelia and his mother would be kicked out of their family home.

his mother did manage to help him out as best she could but his father’s actions and behaviour was taking a toll on her.

he was hellbent on not allowing amelia & his mother from suffering the full brunt of the storm their father and husband had created.

kieran thought that this would be his life forever. juggling school, work and trying to keep his whole life and family from completely collapsing but one night, one action taken too far that left kieran with a black eye given to him by his father, was all it took for kieran’s mother to kick kieran’s father out.                                                 *********************

kieran was in his last year at high school and 18 when his father left and to say kieran’s upset about not knowing where he went would be a complete lie. seeing the back of him was a blessing because even though their lives had taken a dive and it would take a lot to get back up to where they were, at least he wasn’t in amelia & his mother’s lives anymore.

but before we can go any further, there’s one thing you need to know !!! anything creative had been kieran’s saving grace over the course of his teenage years. drawing, painting, photography, music, creating, it helped settle all the emotions that raced through him, it grounded him when nothing else could and if there was one thing he knows, it’s that his ultimate dream would be to become a concept artist for films both live-action and animation but for all his life that’s just what it feels like it’ll always be—a dream and since college wasn’t exactly something on his radar—mostly because he was damn sure he couldn’t afford it and his grades weren’t good enough to get a scholarship—it felt even more out of reach.

but he wasn’t exactly going to give up on his dream that easily, especially when his younger sister wasn’t going to let him let it go that easily either, so as graduation came and went and everyone started to leave to go to college, kieran walsh stayed in provincetown and started to enrol into online courses for concept art and illustration via the online college of digital art & animation, cg spectrum and as a whole he studied three courses over the course of 3 years.

there are sometimes where he wishes he could have gotten out of provincetown and gone to college—just to experience that #collegelife. but he knows he couldn’t ever bring himself to do that because you see, even though his mother got a new job and started trying to return back to some sense of normal when kieran was 18, kieran can’t bring himself to leave?? the thought of leaving amelia and his mother on their own is too much, he’s terrified of his mother retreating back within herself and leaving amelia to look after herself—he can’t bring himself to leave them after more or less supporting the whole family for almost his whole teenage years. but he knows eventually he’ll have to go out on his own and he is in the process of it!! he’s managed to move out at least into an apartment of his own when he was 20, though it’s not all that far from his family home. but it’s a step.

though he’s still procrastinating on the finding a steady job thing, in the mean time he’s doing a lot of freelance things here and there for adverts, small indie animated videos/short movies, designed a couple things for some big name youtubers and even has helped on the illustrations for some children’s books. but he’s still holding out for his dream to come true.

PERSONALITY

an actual soft boy!!! loves his little sister & mother more than anything in the world and has literally put his own happiness and life to the side to make sure they’re happy and thriving after the shit they’ve been through. he loves with his whole heart and it’s both a blessing and a curse.

but he’s so use to being the one to take care of everyone else that he’s never stopped to take care of himself?? and to imagine someone caring about him and loving him is something he cannot get his head around??

a very private person. maybe comes across like he’d be a bit of an asshole but he’s actually relatively friendly?? probably that person you think you know everything about but in reality you actually don’t know nothing about them??

he finds it hard to let people get close and finds it hard to trust others??

may have something to do with the fact that he’s terrified of becoming life his father?? but really is far more like his mother, he just has a bit of a hard time showing it??

hasn’t ever really touched alcohol that much and doesn’t intend on doing so any time soon, he terrified of turning into his father!!!!! we love that

a little rough around the edges and takes a while to break down his walls but once you’ve managed to weed your way into his heart you’ll be there forever and he’ll love you with his whole heart.

loves the snackpack with his whole heart, his dumbass energy really comes out strong around them because YOU KNOW he’s a complete idiot underneath that hardish exterior.

proud of his friends that got out of provincetown and went to college, but also a little salty about being left behind — we don’t talk about that though

if anyone would like to plot a little something, my ims are always open, i’m also up for plotting via discord, and i’d love to plot a little something!! i swear i don’t bite so please send me an im if you’re up for something, but honestly if you give this a like i’ll come to you!!

but if you are interested in plotting, i have a plots page with loose ideas here!!

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

What if ... Ian and Mickey had brought Mandy home?

 “Listen to it!”

“I did! It’s …”

“He’s gonna fucking kill her, Mickey!”

“Look, I know you want …”

“What I want is to bring my friend - your sister - home!”

Ian pauses his pacing to glare at Mickey and point the cell phone at him like a weapon.

“How can you just ignore this?”

“Cause she didn’t mean to call you, Ian. She doesn’t want us fuckin’ nosing through her life.”

“I don’t give a fuck what she wants! If we don’t help her we’re no better than he is!”

Ian fumes as Mickey pushes a hand tersely through his hair and looks up at his boyfriend with large, uncertain eyes. He doesn’t disagree with what Ian is saying, but Mandy made her choice and in his family they don’t interfere with each other. They’re not like the Gallaghers, they don’t crowd each other. If Mandy wanted them involved she would fucking ask but Ian doesn’t seem to get that at all. Kenyatta took Mandy’s phone and the idiot managed to call Ian and leave a voicemail recording of their fight. Yeah it was grim, it made Mickey’s blood boil to think of that son of a bitch hurting Mandy but she made her choice! They all told her not to fuckin’ go and Mickey doesn’t know what more Ian wants from him.

“Just … calm down …”

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down!”

Ian throws his cell phone onto the cluttered sofa, instantly losing it amongst Yevgeny’s baby clothes that are strewn across the worn cushions. Folding his arms and slamming his back against the wall, Ian shakes his head and closes his eyes, trying to get a grip on his temper and failing.

“That voicemail was fucking horrible Mickey! The names he called her? The things he said? And Mandy! Did you hear her crying? Did you?”

“Yeah. I heard.”

Mickey says softly, averting his gaze and pinching his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, tugging it before twisting his hand and rubbing his index finger roughly along the edge of his mouth.

“So?”

Ian demands, pushing himself upright and towering over his boyfriend, deliberately close, forcing Mickey to look up more than usual. Predictably, Mickey cranes his neck rather than stepping back out of Ian’s way. He is getting better at being open with feelings and shit like that, but years of conditioning won’t let him back down from a confrontation, even with Ian, and his fists curl loosely at his sides mechanically.

“Are you gonna help me or not?”

Ian is close enough that Mickey can feel the heat pouring off of his body. In other circumstances Mickey would be rock hard and ready to go a few rounds in the bedroom with Ian all riled up like this. Maybe they’d slap each other around a little bit first, nothing too brutal but they would get a little sore, a little bruised and it would lead to some seriously amazing sex… but Mickey is pretty sure fucking isn’t on the cards right now so he pushes it from his mind and tries to focus on making Ian see reason.

“I don’t know where the fuck Mandy even is! She won’t talk to me, she won’t talk to you … She don’t want our help! What are you gonna do? Huh? Knock down every door in Indiana til you find her?”

“If I have to.”

“Okay well that’s just fuckin’ dumb so sit your ass down a minute and let’s get a plan together.”

Mickey wrenches a crumpled packet of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket, takes one and then flips the carton over to Ian. He inhales the thick smoke, grateful for the familiar buzz of nicotine and then exhales through his nostrils, watching Ian do the same.

Swears under his breath, Mickey licks his lip, considering his options. Short of tying Ian to the bed and refusing to let him leave, Mickey isn’t going to be able to stop him. He’s gone all jutting chin and lowered ginger eyebrows and whilst Fiona might say it’s the bipolar, Mickey is pretty sure it’s just Ian’s pig-headed nature.

“Ay, alright I’ll call her from a burner. She might pick up if it’s not you or me callin’. Okay?”

Ian nods at this but his shoulders round defensively and he stubs the half-finished cigarette out viciously in the dregs of his coffee.

“Why won’t she just talk to us?”

Mickey snorts in response, already turning to rifle through his ‘stuff’ draw to find a fresh burner.

“Cause she’s a bitch and she’s a Milkovich. We ain’t the chattiest people when it comes to our problems.”

Ian’s lip quirks upwards at that, his eyes lightening just a fraction now that Mickey is helping him.

“Yeah well I did notice something like that.”

“Observent fucker, huh?”

Mickey finds what he’s looking for and flips the plastic casing off, inserting the disposable sim into the back of the cheap cell.

“Right, what’s the number?”

Ian digs around in the mess of baby stuff before coming up with his phone and reading the digits out to Mickey who thumbs them in and then lifts the phone to his ear.

“Ringing …”

He says curtly, answering Ian’s impatient expression and holding up the last half-inch of his smoke in a stilling gesture.

“Mandy? It’s me. … your fuckin’ brother? … Mickey, bitch! … No … No … fuck you! … He’s fine … he’s fine too … Yeah…”

Ian is practically crawling out of his skin with exasperation as the phone call progresses and begins miming frantically for Mickey to both hurry up and to give him the phone, which earns him a middle finger salute as Mickey turns his back on him.

“Where are you? … cause I want to know … to send a fuckin’ care package, what does it matter? … Oh I’m the asshole? You don’t answer my calls for weeks and … how is this typical of me? … Oh well excuse me for giving a shit … yes I do! … yes I do or I wouldn’t fuckin’ call … don’t bring that up … it wasn’t your fuckin’ flick-knife it was Iggy’s and Dad said I could …”

Ian can’t take any more of the sibling bickering and lunges forward snatching the phone out of Mickey’s hand

“Mandy? It’s Ian. Where are you? … Because I’m worried Mands… I know you are but please tell me… okay … yeah … I won’t, I promise. I love you. Bye.”

Ian flips the burner closed and nods to Mickey curtly

“I got the address.”

“Why the fuck did she give it to you and not me?”

Mickey asks looking truly affronted, taking the burner from Ian and tossing it back in the drawer alongside a collection of communal weapons and small baggies of powders and pills that Svetlana doesn’t let him leave around the house any more.

“I promised I wouldn’t do anything stupid.”

Ian smirks at Mickey who tongues his cheek and raises his eyebrows in response

“So we ain’t goin?”

“Of course we are. The stupid thing was letting her go in the first place.”

Ian states firmly, breezing past Mickey and heading into the bedroom to change out of his tight jeans and into something he can actually move in. Mickey follows him, rolling his eyes.

“Okay tough guy, you got the address, now what? We just rock up to Indiana?”

Ian looks up from lacing his military boots and fixes Mickey with a look that he has seldom given his boyfriend before: contempt. Mickey flinches slightly and sniffs, folding his arms defensively under Ian’s furious stare

“What?”

“Stop acting like this is bullshit. Your baby sister is in an abusive mess of a relationship with a guy who beats on her whenever it suits him.”

“I didn’t make her fuckin’ go!”

Mickey snaps and Ian slaps his hand hard against the dresser in frustration, making the cheap wood groan and tip precariously onto its side before slamming back down.

“Congratulations, asshole! It’s not your fault! Good for you! Now man the fuck up, get your shit together, and help me bring her home.”

Mickey blinks, squares his shoulders aggressively and the potential for a proper fight hangs in the air between them. The silent tension fills the room, settling in the ceiling cracks and nestling in the folds of clothes left on the floor. Ian doesn’t move, barely even blinks, just waits Mickey out – he’s never been scared of his boyfriend’s temper and he isn’t scared now.

“She needs us, Mickey. We gotta help her.”

After what feels like an age, Mickey nods to himself and just like that, things are in motion.

*

Mickey shrugs out of his grey button down and tugs a passably clean tank over his head, grabbing his cut off jacket from the floor by Ian’s side of the bed where he dumped it last night. It’s been a while since he’s gone after someone like this but the prep is comfortingly familiar and Mickey finds himself warming to it with ease.

He runs his hand fondly over the assortment of weapons in the dresser drawer as Ian types the address Mandy gave him into Google maps on his phone and plots their route.

“Take whatever weapon you want, man.”

Mickey gestures to the drawer, selecting a couple of handguns for himself and pocketing a butterfly knife and brass knuckles.

“Fuck you, Milkovich. Think I wouldn’t bring my own?”

Ian snorts and drops to his knees beside the bed, reaching under and producing a steel baseball bat with a dramatic flourish and giving it a practice swing.

“You know, some guys just bring some clothes and a toothbrush when they move in.”

Mickey grins at him, approval evident in his tone. Ian cocks his head in acknowledgement and loops the bat around the back of his neck, resting his wrists nonchalantly over either end.

“I just packed my biggest, hardest things.”

He drawls, looking Mickey over with a deliberate slowness that has the brunette adjusting himself with zero discretion. A different kind of tension begins to creep between them but Mickey shakes his head.

“Later. You ready?”

Ian nods and shakes himself to get his head back in the game. He has been finding it increasingly difficult to stay focussed lately but this is important, Mandy is important, and with a grunt of effort, he pushes other thoughts aside.

*

In the living room, Iggy and Joey are ripping their first bong of the day but both look up with mild interest at Mickey’s bark of a greeting

“Yo! On a job. You in?”

“What is it?”

“We’re goin’ to get Mandy.”

Iggy frowns and scratches at a spot behind his ear

“Our Mandy?”

“Yeah numbnuts. She’s in trouble. Bringing her home.”

Mickey’s fingers are beating against his leg impatiently. The more often he says the words the more set they become and he wonders how the Hell it has taken him so long to do this. Any of them! Fucking Milkovichs letting their sister be fucked up by some dumb prick of a boyfriend? Shame curls in Mickey’s gut and his nostrils flare at the thought of it.

“You comin’ or what?”

His tone is harsher than he intended but it doesn’t matter because it snaps Iggy and Joey out of their contemplations and both stand up, Iggy heading into the closet.

“She with that Ken … whatever the fuck his name was?”

Joey asks, slipping a stained knuckle duster out of his jacket and slipping it on, large hands flexing.

“Yeah.”

Ian nods. Joey grunts and rolls his neck, grabbing the bong and his bag of pot off the table.

“Disrespectful mother-fucker gonna regret that then ain’t he.”

“You want him dead or just fucked up, bro?”

Iggy’s head pops out of the cluttered space and as both his older brother’s look to him for instruction, the last of the uncertainty leaves Mickey.

When he came out he thought this part of his life with his brother’s was over, family or not, he was gay and he figured that it changed things between them but here they are, waiting on his word like always. Confidence blooms in Mickey’s chest and he lifts his chin, glancing sideways at Ian before clearing his throat and taking the lead.

“Fucked up, but if the asshole dies I ain’t gonna cry about it.”

“Cool.”

Iggy nods and drops the small buzzsaw he had been holding, disappearing briefly and re-emerging with a short wooden club.

As Iggy and Joey amble out to the car, Ian beams at Mickey who gives him a reserved smile back. He doesn’t actually think Ian has ever seen him on this sort of job before and he doesn’t want it freaking him out.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

He asks quietly, reaching up to smooth back a length of deep red hair from Ian’s brow.

“Fuck yes I am! I’ve been waiting a long time to get this prick. I want to do this.”

Ian’s smile twists into a grimace at the thought of Kenyatta and Mickey realises with a start that he has never seen Ian on this sort of job either. Iggy barrels back into the house and dives into the closet

“Best to be prepared.”

He shrugs, hefting the saw over his shoulder and lumbering out again. Mickey and Ian share one last look and then follow Iggy out. They’re ready.

*

Iggy drives, and he drives horribly. They break the speed limit and swerve in and out of traffic, following the little arrow on Ian’s phone screen, all of them cussing at the robotic voice when it kindly tells them they have missed a turn. The music in the car is blaring out, a mix tape of Slipknot and Korn that drowns out almost everything except the sat-nav app.

“Couldn’t they have got a better fuckin’ voice guy?”

Mickey glares over Joey’s shoulder at the screen, as Iggy slams the car into reverse, narrowly missing a cluster of trash cans and the group of teenagers pissing against them.

“Why the fuck are kids peeing in gangs nowadays?”

“Fuck knows. Animals got no respect.”

Joey grumbles, toking on a blunt before handing it back to Ian who takes it with grateful surprise. Whilst Iggy didn’t seem phased by Mickey coming out, Joey has given Ian more than a few unpleasant looks.

“What is it with you and respect at the moment? You keep banging on about it.”

“What do you mean? I’m always respectful.”

“Joe, you’re the least respectful asswipe I know.”

Mickey laughs, lifting his boot heels onto his seat as Joey swings a fist round trying to clip a knee or ankle.

“Fuck you! Name one time when …”

‘In 200 yards, turn right.’

“Fuck sake! Give me street names mother fucker!”

Iggy yells at the phone and Ian grins despite himself. He doesn’t think he has ever heard Iggy lose his shit before, it makes the family resemblance to Mickey much more obvious.

“You tell it, man.”

Mickey grins and Ian decides that he actually likes seeing Mickey around his brothers. He is gruffer, cruder and cockier but it suits him. They’re like a little wolf pack and Mickey is, by some weird cosmic irony, the Alpha.

Despite the high emotions and disastrous driving, they reach their destination in one piece and all four look with disdain at the run down house that their sister is supposedly living in. It looks eerily like the Milkovich house but with a mailbox and a full set of windows and that is a personal affront to each of Mandy’s brother’s for different reasons, souring the mood in the car instantly.

For Joey it feels like Kenyatta is trying to be better than them with his fancy windows and mail box.

For Iggy it is confusing to see a house so like his own in a different state and he hates it impulsively  

For Mickey it enrages him that this is the best Kenyatta could do for Mandy. Bastard couldn’t even give her a half-way decent house.

Ian just despises all of it. Every brick, window, and blade of grass.

The four men get out of the car and after surveying the street for a minute, Mickey leads them across the road and up the steps.

The front door barely withstands the first kick and gives in without protest after the second.

“KENYATTA!”

Mickey bellows, his brother’s fanning out around him. Ian keeps close to Mickey, guarding his back, his bat held high, ready. He can hear someone moving upstairs and apparently he isn’t the only one because all around him guns are being drawn and they are moving forward, Iggy and Joey take the stairs two at a time but Mickey pauses, Ruger in his right hand, his left pressed flat against Ian’s chest, keeping him back.

“Mick, what …?”

Mickey jerks his head irritably and Ian falls silent. There is a heartbeats space of silence and then all Hell breaks loose above them. They can hear Mandy screaming at Iggy, the crash of bodies hitting the floor, scrambling, cursing and then Kenyatta stumbles down the stairs, blood streaming from his nose, clutching his ribs. Mickey drops his gun and lunges upward as Kenyatta swings clumsily at Ian. They sprawl into the living room, crashing against a shitty recliner chair in a tangle of limbs. Ian throws himself into the fray and fists fly.

Every blow that Ian lands is a catharsis. At some point, he shoves Mickey bodily out of the way and straddles Kenyatta’s hips pinning him and raining punches with wild abandon and he doesn’t stop.

Not when his knuckles split.

Not when his own cheekbone is cut with a stray fist.

Not until Mandy reaches him.

“IAN? IAN STOP IT! FUCKING STOP!”

Mandy’s voice cuts through the haze of adrenaline and Ian blinks, smearing blood over his face as he mops at it with his sleeve. Kenyatta begins to sit up but freezes as metal touches his throat.

“Don’t fuckin’ move, asshole.”

Iggy warns, the tip of his saw pressing against flesh just enough to leave an indentation as Ian stands shakily.

Mandy shakes her head in disbelief and then slaps Ian’s face with the flat of her hand

“You promised me, Ian! You fucking promised!”

“Hey! Don’t hit him!”

Mickey snaps at his sister, yanking her away from Ian. Mandy turns her fury on him in an instant, pitching forward and bashing her fists against Mickey’s chest, glaring at him through bruised and bloodshot eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Me? What the fuck is wrong with you? Look at the state of your face! You let this piece of shit hit you again?”

Mickey glares right back and kicks Kenyatta dismissively

“Stop it!”

Mandy yells, her hair is matted and she looks half-starved and it is that rather than her words that give Mickey pause. He takes in the state of her clothes and the haunted look in her eyes and shakes his head before kicking Kenyatta in the ribs, harder this time.

“Mickey! Don’t …”

“You’re fuckin’ defending him now? Jesus, Mandy! Come home.”

“Home? HOME? To that house? You call that a home?”

“It’s different now.”

Mandy closes her eyes with an almost hysterical laugh, pressing the heels of her hands painfully against them. Kenyatta makes a noise from the floor and all five Southsider’s look down at him with disgust, silencing him instantly.

“Nothing is ever different, Mickey.”

Mandy’s voice is flat and she shakes her head, wrapping her arms around her middle and stepping back from them all. Mickey glances at Ian and twitches his lip uncertainly, he’s done the part he is good at and now he is out of his depth.

“You okay to deal with this?”

Ian murmurs, gesturing to Kenyatta, his hand briefly caressing the swell of Mickey’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we got it. Go.”

Ian follows Mandy as she makes her way into the kitchen. He has done this sort of thing many times with her brother but though neither of them would admit it, Mickey is actually easier to deal with than Mandy.

“It was my idea Mandy. Not Mickey’s. I got a voicemail from your fight last night and I had to do something.”

“Crash into my home? Assault my boyfriend?”

Mandy sits down at the table and lights a cigarette with shaking hands, before offering Ian the packet.

“It’s not a home, Mandy. You’re not safe here.”

Ian doesn’t dare touch her, but he sits close and when she doesn’t move away, he lays his hand beside hers on the scarred table top.

“I was never safe there either, Ian. You know that.”

Ian nods and swallows heavily. He does know that, they all let Mandy down. Every single one of them.

“It is different now though. We’re there, me and Mickey, and Svetlana and Yev too. It’s a little fucked up but it works. It’s a safe place Mands. We could look after you.”

Dark eyes flash dangerously as Mandy glares up at her friend

“I don’t need you assholes to look after me.”

“Then let us be there while you get what you need to look after yourself.”

Ian counters and Mandy presses her swollen lips together, trembling slightly but not ready to back down.

“You can’t stay here. Not really. Not with him. He’ll kill you.”

Ian presses on despite the look on her face. Like her brother, she responds better to frankness, almost harshness in a way, a gentle approach means nothing to Mandy, she needs to cold steel of a bat to swing, not the soft comfort of a pillow to clutch. He can see that his words are sinking in and being accepted as slowly the fire in her eyes dims to a shimmer.

“What are you gonna do with him?”

“Whatever you want us to. Please Mandy. Please come home.”

Mandy nods, licks her lips, and gently places her hand over Ian’s long fingers. He picks up her hand and cradles it in his own.

*

Mandy doesn’t have much to pack and whist Ian gathers sparse possessions from the bathroom, Mickey helps her stuff her clothes into a couple of bin liners.

“This all of it?”

“Yeah.”

Mandy nods, clutching the larger of the two bags to her chest.

“Alright, give it here.”

Mickey reaches for it, gesturing impatiently

“You don’t have to...”

“Let me carry the damn bag for you for fucks sake.”

He snatches it roughly out of his sister’s hand, begins walking to the door and then stops, dropping both bags at his feet and whirling to face her, irritation and guilt warring for control of his features.

“You should have fucking called me, Mandy.”

She isn’t prepared for the hug but as her big brother’s arms fold around her, she feels her body begin to slacken in quiet relief.

“You’re here now, Mick.”

“Yeah well … just as well too! You’re skinny as fuck.”

Mickey breathes into her hair, his fingers cupping the back of her head as gently as if she were made of brittle glass.

“You’re getting fat.”

Mandy shoots back and then tightens her grip around his middle, her fingers gripping the back of his shirt for dear life.

“Douche.”

Mickey sniffs wetly and squeezes her gently

“It’s gonna be alright, you hear me? You’re gonna be okay. We got you.”

It is probably the most comforting thing any of her family have ever said to her and if Mandy Milkovich was a crier, she would have wept all the tears her body could shed. But Mandy does not cry. She pulls back, sniffs and kisses Mickey’s cheek.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“And get you some food!”

Mickey nods in agreement and grabs her bags, leading the way downstairs.

*

Kenyatta is propped up against the wall and watches Mandy leave with flat eyes, but she doesn’t look at him. Not once.

Mickey crouches in front of the huge man and slaps his cheek lightly, almost tenderly

“My brothers are gonna stay a while, have a chat, straighten some things out with you, man. You better hope that they are the last Milkovichs you ever fuckin’ see because if not, if you try and come near Mandy again, we’re gonna have to kill you. You know that, right?”

Kenyatta nods and Mickey gives him a bright smile, beautiful and menacing in equal measure.

“Good.”

With that, Mickey dusts off his hands on his thighs, stands and walks away. Ian knows he should follow. Their work here is done, but can barely drag his eyes from the man at Joey’s feet. He knows he’ll be punished for Mandy’s treatment at his hand, Joey is more than capable but a part of Ian wishes he was the one to do it, to wreak a little havoc on the man who catapulted Mandy’s so brutally.

“Ian? Let’s go.”

Mickey calls from the porch steps. Ian tears his eyes away from Mandy’s now-ex boyfriend and begins to leave, pausing to grab his bat. The steel is cool and welcome in his heated palm and he twirls it absentmindedly, looking around the room.

He wanders over to the windows and peers out from between the dirty curtains. How many times did Mandy do this? Peer out at the world, scared either of what was coming or scared of what was already waiting upstairs. On the porch, Mickey catches sight of Ian’s movements and walks across to stand in front of him on the other side.

“What the fuck are you doing? Let’s go.”

Ian nods but doesn’t move. His fingertips press against the smeared panes and he slowly traces Mandy’s name into the grime. On the other side, Mickey cups his hands against the glass and peers past Ian into the house making sure they haven’t forgotten anything of Mandy’s or anything that Mandy might just want, hers or not.

Ian makes a decision and his lip lifts upwards in a small smile

“Take your fuckin’ hands off the glass, Mick.”

“Huh?”

“Move!”

Ian hefts the bat and Mickey reads his intention, leaping back just in time as one after the other, Ian puts the windows out. He smashes the bat through each of them with a malicious relish that he hasn’t felt in years and beams at Mickey through the gaping holes.

“You done now, Al Capone?”

“Yep.”

Ian nods, answering the arched eyebrows and amused smirk on his boyfriends face with a happy smile.

*

They leave Iggy and Joey to their business, Mickey drives and Ian sits in the back with Mandy, not wanting to leave her alone. His fingers untangle some of the knots in the tips of her long hair and she lets him do it, relaxing into the touch little by little.

“How’s Yevgeny?”

“Fat.”

“Mickey!”

Ian chides, laughing despite himself. Mickey half turns to glance back at his sister and shrugs

“It’s true. Little bastard eats, shits, and sleeps as much as Iggy.”

“He looks just like Mickey though. His eyes have gone the exact shade of blue and he’s getting a proper smirk.”

Ian smiles proudly at this and Mandy allows a small smile to lighten her own face.

“Poor kid!”

“Fuck you!”

Mickey gives an exemplary smirk around the filter of his cigarette as he pulls into a McDonalds drive thru. He orders too much food and pays with a few crumpled bills, smiling politely when the cashiers gaze lingers on his bruised and bloody knuckles.

The only free space is a disabled bay, which Mickey parks in without a second thought, heedless of the signs, and hands the brown bags into the back seat. Mandy eats with as much enthusiasm as her brother and Ian can’t help but laugh at them both, though he covers it as choking on a fry. Once she has eaten her fill, Mandy wipes her hands and face on a napkin and slumps back against Ian’s shoulder, sighing in drowsy contentment. Her breathing grows heavy as they leave the parking lot and Ian wraps a protective arm around her shoulder, keeping her close as she sleeps.

“She okay?”

Ian looks up and meets Mickey’s worried eyes in the rearview mirror.

“She will be. You did good, Mickey.”

Mickey’s cheeks turn a dusky pink at the praise and he snorts, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Didn’t do bad yourself, Gallagher.”

“We make a good team.”

Ian smiles and Mickey grins at him happily, blue eyes holding green firmly.

“Yeah we do.”

*

Months later …

*

Ian is making his way back to the Gallagher house, his hand is throbbing beneath the hastily wrapped up bandages and he is grateful for this because it lets him know that he is still alive. He can barely see, barely hear, everything is white noise and great swathes of colourless normality stretching out into the infinity of his gaze.

“Ian?”

He turns slowly and sees Mandy walking towards him, head bowed against the cold evening breeze.

“You okay?”

“Yeah I gotta …”

He trails off, lifting his injured hand in illustration of the point he can’t quite seem to make.

“Shit! That needs changing.”

“I can do it. Or Fiona. I don’t care.”

Ian sighs tiredly and Mandy links her arm through his, making the decision for both of them.

“I’ll do it. Come on.”

Inside the Gallagher house, Ian sits down whilst Mandy finds the first aid kit. Sammi hovers around them until Mandy asks for a cup of coffee, giving the needy blonde a simple task to complete somewhere else.

“Kinda matches my left hand now, huh?”

Ian says quietly, the joke feeble as he shows Mandy the older scar

“Oh yeah? How did you do that one?”

Mandy replies, rolling the clean fabric over Ian’s blistered palm. Ian draws a shuddering breath and then sighs

“Military. I hot-wired a helicopter, other stupid shit too and burnt myself. Then I ran away, went AWOL …”

“Did Ian say something? Does he want a coffee too?”

Sammi’s head pokes around the kitchen door and Mandy throws a weary look over her shoulder at the older woman.

“No Sammi, thanks.”

“Okay but I like to be included in conversation in my own house you know!”

Sammi sing-songs as she retreats back into the kitchen, bitchy but blessedly oblivious. Mandy shakes her head and presses a finger gently to Ian’s lips when he draws a breath to continue his confession.

“Not now, okay? Gotta be careful who you tell about this stuff.”

Mandy tucks the end of the bandage in and covers Ian’s hand gently with both of her own, cradling it.

“Thanks.”

Ian says looking Mandy in the eye for the first time.

“You’re welcome.”

She kisses his head lightly and stands up

“Let’s get out of here. No offence but your sister is weird and Mickey will be home soon.” Ian smiles slightly and nods, leaving Sammi behind and following Mandy home.

[missjugheadjones]

Unspoken Words 2

 Word Count: 2170

    A/N: lol heres the 2nd part to Unspoken words, enjoy! I suggest the song mentioned in here, its one of my favs.  Also sorry for not posting as much, things are very crazy atm but im getting back to it. Much love!

MasterList

Jugheads POV-

    "Betty?" I said over the phone, hearing my sniffling girlfriend on the other end. "Yeah, I'm here, come outside." She sniffled again and I listened as she told me that she couldn't, her mom locked her inside the house for the night and no one was allowed in nor out.

    "So I can't come inside to see you?" I asked, and I listened as she told me I couldn't. My heart sank a little bit, not because I couldn't go in and see her, but because I had just left Y/N heartbroken and crying alone in her house for this.

    "Yeah, no I get it. I'll just see you tomorrow." I said, and hung up the phone, throwing it on the seat next to me. I leaned my head on the steering wheel and sighed, I was truly and idiot today. I kicked myself, closing my eyes trying to stop myself from crying, but behind my shut eyes images of Y/N played like a movie. Her smiling, the way her eyes light up anytime she tells an awful pun and everyone groans, the sound of her laugh when she shoots sarcastic comments my way.

    I replayed memories of our time at Pops, late nights in the quiet diner, the only sounds that are audible are of the neon lights buzz, Pops whistling from back into the kitchen, and the tapping of keys and scratches of lead on paper. While I wrote she drew, or also wrote, but she preferred the look of her scribbled words on paper, the smears of black on her hands as evidence of a nights work. A tattered notebook with crumbled pages, a worn and old look, inside the ins and outs of her mind were translated into pictures and poems, proof that there was a beautiful mind behind her beautiful eyes. She thought the digital route to her genius felt cheap, she liked the messy, tangible work that she could carry around with her, and I always admired her for it.

     Memories of the Twilight-Drive In came next, sitting next to her out in the cold air. We'd sit in the back of my dads truck, blankets and pillows sprawled across the bed of the truck, popcorn and candy pieces littered throughout from our many mini food fights we'd randomly break out in. If it was especially cold, she'd sit closer to me, leaning her head on my shoulder and I'd pull one of the many blankets over her. This was when she was most peaceful, sometimes I would purposely tune out the movie and try my best to listen in on her slow and quiet breaths, finding comfort in the serenity of it. I'd look down at her, admiring how her soft features would glow in the dim light of the movie projection and the night sky. She really was beautiful, and I'm sure that these were the nights where it really stood out to me.

    Not only was she beautiful physically, but mentally as well. She had been through so much, endured so much bullshit yet she still had a soft and warm personality that would draw people in. She was energetic, magnetic, electric. Every word she spoke you could hear the emotion behind it, even if it was a useless sentence that had no meaning at all. She was a human piece of art really, she was all of the art in the world placed into a breathing, living person. Poetic and colourful, abstract but simple, she is everything that I felt was beautiful in the world.

    Then came the heartbreak, the memory I wanted so badly to forget about, to ignore, but it was now stuck in my brain.  I led her on, didn't I? And not only that, but I left her crying and alone after. The tears started to fall, and I couldn't help but feel the burn of self hatred rise up from my stomach to my chest. She was broken, on the floor with tears falling from her beautiful (y/e/c) eyes, and it was all my fault because I decided to do something stupid. I decided to almost let my true feelings slip, I should have told her, I should have stayed.

    Y/N is a smart girl, she knows how to put pieces together, and she's quite good with words and if she knows a person well enough, like she knows me, she can guess what is about to come out of their mouth. She knew what I was going to say, I could see the gleam in her eye, the one that time and time again tells me that she feels the same. I brought her up and I let her crash... I am the worst person ever. It would take a miracle for her to forgive me, hell it would take a miracle for me to forgive myself.

    I straightened up and wiped the tears off my face, crying about Y/N in front of Bettys house felt wrong in some sort of sense. Thinking these thoughts about Y/N in front of Bettys house felt wrong, I just need to get away from Betty. I started up my car and ran my hand through my beanie-less hair, pulling away from the familiar home, looking back slightly to see another lone illuminated window, Bettys. And just like with Y/N, I drove away. I was gone.

Your POV-

    "You look cute with that hat on." Jughead said, smiling towards me. I looked up from my notebook and blushed, rolling my eyes and smiling.

    "Not as cute as you." I say, tapping my pencil on the paper. Jughead chuckles, shaking his head.

    "And that's where your wrong, princess." My chest warms up at the use of his nickname for me. At one point it was used to tease me, a nickname given to me by my best friend who said I acted like a princess most of the time. Now that we are together though, its turned into something more, I'm not just any princess, I'm his, and he is my prince, and I wear his crown to show that I'm his and he is mine.

    "Last time I checked, I'm never wrong, thank you though." I snap back sarcastically, beaming at him as he closes his laptop half way and looks admiringly my way.

    "I wouldn't be so sure about that, weren't you wrong today?" he asks, and I fake surprise.

    "Was I? I don't recall."

    "Yes, I'm pretty sure you were. We were listening to music in the car ride home from school and I was listening to 'Atlanta' and you tried to guess who it was by." he says, and I sink a little in my seat, trying my best to keep up my poker face.

    "None of this is ringing a bell, Beanie. I think it was just all in your imagination." I reply, shrugging and leaning back in my seat.

    "No, I still don't think so. You know the song Atlanta right, who is it by then?" he asks, smirking my way and I stutter, trying my best to think of the artist he had told me earlier.

    "Well, I-uh... twenty one pilots?" I guessed, and he threw his head back in laughter.

    "No, Stone Temple Pilots. Close though, but not really." he says once his laughter dies down a bit, and I roll my eyes.

    "Whatever, same difference." I shoot back, and he shakes his head.

    "Not even close." he says, and I shrug.

    "I'll get it at some point." I say confidently, and he nods.

    "I'm sure you will." he opens his laptop all the way again and starts to type, and I watch as his eyes dance across the screen and listen to the sound of keys being hit. He looks so happy, you can see it in his eyes that this is when he is most peaceful. Sometimes I stare at him, watching as he types away on his laptop, and I swear I can see the gears turning behind his loving eyes. I admire how the neon lights of the diner illuminates his face, creating an orange-y red glow that accentuates the features of his face. Sometimes I swear this is where I notice how handsome he really is, right here in this booth when he's happy and content and busy.

    I look down at my notebook, the words and doodles scribbled across the page, the smear marks of the lead being dragged across the page from my hand. I love it when a new, untouched white page in my notebook becomes a light grey, decorated with my thoughts. I stare at tonights masterpiece, just some random writing about Jughead that I had thought up of, and a doodle of a beanie that looks like a crown. As I look up from my notebook, I see he is looking at me.

    "Is there something on my face?" I asked, and he shakes his head.

    "No, nothing out of the normal. Just the usual cuteness." he says, and I laugh.

    "The cheese is strong with you, isn't it?" I asked, and he laughs as well.

    "Hey, maybe I like being cliché, did you ever think of that?" he asks, closing his laptop and placing it in his bag.

    "Yes, I have. Its not a hard thing to pick up on, especially since you do it so often." I reply, closing my notebook and placing it in my small backpack I use instead of a purse. I slide out of the booth seat and stand up, stretching slightly as Jughead stands up as well. I start to make my way to the door until a hand grabs my wrist and turns me around, facing Jughead. He smiles down at me and I smile up at him.

    "Have I ever told you how happy I am that I finally fixed my mistake?" he asks, which is an odd question, but those are never few and far between with Juggie.

    "What mistake?" I asked quietly, and he shrugs slightly.

    "I had bad judgement, I made a haste decision that ended up being the wrong one, and fixing it was probably the best thing that has ever happened to me." he tried to explain, yet he was still being so vague.

    "What was your wrong decision?" I asked, and he opened his mouth to say something, but a banging noise drowned whatever he said out.

    "Now do you understand?" he questioned, and I shook my head.

     "No, I didn't catch what you said, the noise was too loud." I explained, and he looked down at me confused.

    "What noise?" he asked.

    "The loud banging noise." I said, shocked he hadn't heard it too.

    "I think you're lo-" there it goes again, the noise. I can't hear the second part of his sentence, and now i'm even more confused than before.

    "Did you hear it just then?" I asked, sure he had to have heard it.

    "No, are you feeling okay?" he asks me, and I take a seat back in the booth, I feel a little dizzy.

    "No, not really, I think I just need to-"

    "Wake up?" he suggests, and I look at him confused.

    "Wake up?" I asked, and he nods his head.

    "You should probably wake up, go see what the noise was." he says, and I shake my head.

    "But I'm not asle-" the noise is louder this time, more urgent sounding, like someone is banging on a door.

    "Are you going to get that?" Jughead asks, and I shake my head.

    "Get what?" I ask, and he opens his mouth to respond, but before he can I cut him off. "You know what, it doesn't matter, just tell me what your wrong decision was." I say, and he shrugs.

    "I think you need to wake up." he says, sitting in the seat of the booth across from me.

    "But-"

    "I can't tell you what you want to know. But I'm sure whatever is making that noise can." he says, and I shake my head.

    "The only one who can tell me left. He ran out, back to the one who he belongs with." I say, and Jughead shrugs.

    "Have a little faith, you still have faith in him right?" he asks, and I slowly nod.

    "I have no choice but to. When you're in love with someone, faith in them kind of comes naturally." I say, feeling quite tired. I yawn, and the diner starts to get blurry, and darker. I blink and things around me are now completely dark, and I'm laying down. I sit up slowly, raising my hand to my head and I feel the beanie on me. It was a dream. Of course it was a dream.

Knock! Knock!

    Who the hell is here right now? I look at my phone and see its 1:27am, its a little early for visitors, who in their right mind wants to talk to me now?

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Unspoken Words Tags:

@kelly27crickett 

[cybernightwanderer]

I went over the “How to Recognize the Signs of Mental and Emotional Abuse” article and heres whats familiar : 46 out of 64 Signs LOL

-Name-calling. They’ll blatantly call you “stupid,” “a loser,” or words too awful to repeat here. There were too many times my mom would come to my room yelling and threatning to beat, or actually beat me up and call me a whore and a piece of shit. Still does, just doesnt call me a whore now, just calls me stupid and a a piece of shit occasionally. -Character assassination. This usually involves the word “always.” You’re always late, wrong, screwing up, disagreeable, and so on. Basically, they say you’re not a good person. Everyday AALL DAY. Things i used or barely did as a child , and keeps trowing at as an adult. -Yelling. Yelling, screaming, and swearing are meant to intimidate and make you feel small and inconsequential. It might be accompanied by fist-pounding or throwing things. No need to even explain this. -Patronizing. “Aw, sweetie, I know you try, but this is just beyond your understanding.” “Ah nooo, youll never be responsible to have your own life” -Public embarrassment. They pick fights, expose your secrets, or make fun of your shortcomings in public. Yup...

-Dismissiveness. You tell them about something that’s important to you and they say it’s nothing. Body language like eye-rolling, smirking, headshaking, and sighing help convey the same message. Trying to explain to her i dont like something or i dont wanna do something and why, trying to explain certain things she does harms me. And i just get mocked and threatned instead. - Insults of your appearance. They tell you, just before you go out, that your hair is ugly or your outfit is clownish. Every single day. Also to a point that she did this many times in front of strangers, or in front of my friends.

-Belittling your accomplishments. Your abuser might tell you that your achievements mean nothing, or they may even claim responsibility for your success. Yup -Put-downs of your interests. They might tell you that your hobby is a childish waste of time or you’re out of your league when you play sports. Really, it’s that they’d rather you not participate in activities without them. I stopped practising my drawing skills because she would always say i had no future in drawing characters and shitty stuff. Even tho i was starting and practising. That i had no future in it. -Pushing your buttons. Once your abuser knows about something that annoys you, they’ll bring it up or do it every chance they get. Daily picking fights with me, the yells at me for fighting with her and misstreats me. -Threats. Telling you they’ll take the kids and disappear, or saying “There’s no telling what I might do.” Threatning to kick me off the house whenever i refuse to do something she tells me to. For example, a few years ago, i was barely holding on with a minimal wage , she would take a cut out of it, so there was this month i did a whole month without days off to try and gather money to go to barcelona. She knew i had money saved up and threatened to kick me off the house if i didnt give her extra 100 euros for house rent. Usually stuff like this always. -Monitoring your whereabouts. They want to know where you are all the time and insist that you respond to calls or texts immediately. They might show up just to see if you’re where you’re supposed to be. If i go out with my friends or stay in my friends houses, if i go to a concert or anything, she will non stop be calling me and texting until i reply. Even if i already told her who i would be with and where ( i have to tell her always ) And always have to tell what i am doing. If i dont she will be mad for weeks and take it out on me. -Digital spying. They might check your internet history, emails, texts, and call log. They might even demand your passwords. Like the previous one, she asks my aunt to sent her my ig stuff and fb stuff i post, so i had to remove my entire family from my social network. Because she would always come up to me daily “ ah u posted this why? “ wether it would be a selfie or a poem. And is always messaging me on whatsapp and humiliating me and crontrolling wich picture i post on whatsapp. I generaly like to post my user photo of whatsapp as something funny, wether its my face with a filter, or a funny meme. Two months ago i posted a guy with his ass pinned up, wich was hilarious. She kept yelling at me everymorning, and even threatned to hit me , to take the picture down , because it looked bad. The picture was something like this ( not this, but the pose kinda )

- Unilateral decision-making. They might close a joint bank account, cancel your doctor’s appointment, or speak with your boss without asking. ALWAYS does these kinds of things without my consent. I work 12h a day everyday, im always tired, and i barely have money , and she “trying to take care of me “ will settle apointments for really expensive doctors witouth asking me if i even want, and will get mad at me when i tell her to cancel , saying im a big girl that i have to do it, SO i have to take out sometype of time during my busy work day to make a call to cancel something she settled without even asking me , and will be mad for weeks and take it out on me calling me names and shit. And if i dont accept her “ lending me the money for the apointment “ she will get mad and call me ungratfull and stupid. -Financial control. They might keep bank accounts in their name only and make you ask for money. You might be expected to account for every penny you spend. Well yeah.. dont even need to say anything here. - Lecturing. Belaboring your errors with long monologues makes it clear they think you’re beneath them.  Or here... -Direct orders. From “Get my dinner on the table now” to “Stop taking the pill,” orders are expected to be followed despite your plans to the contrary. This daily basis. -Outbursts. You were told to cancel that outing with your friend or put the car in the garage, but didn’t, so now you have to put up with a red-faced tirade about how uncooperative you are. Always calling me lazy and shit for not doing HER OWN STUFF. -Treating you like a child. They tell you what to wear, what and how much to eat, or which friends you can see.  I am 30 years old. -Feigned helplessness. They may say they don’t know how to do something. Sometimes it’s easier to do it yourself than to explain it. They know this and take advantage of it. Whatever happends she always plays the pity party card “ ahh im old” , “ ahhh i had an aneurism ( even tho she has been fine for two/three years now LOL )”, “ ahh my blood pressure “ She used that as an excuse to always ditch arguments or important discussions when she is loosing, and if i dont shut up she will threaten to kick me off the house or beat me. For example the other day she was shamming me out of nowhere from trying to commit suicide, and i told her she was one of the main reasons. She immediatly started to call me names, tried to hit me, and trow me out of the car. -Unpredictability. They’ll explode with rage out of nowhere, suddenly shower you with affection, or become dark and moody at the drop of a hat to keep you walking on eggshells. She flips randomly during the day, im afraid to leave my room. Or that she will enter my room. -They walk out. In a social situation, stomping out of the room leaves you holding the bag. At home, it’s a tool to keep the problem unresolved. She humiliates me in public then randomly walks out. -Using others. Abusers may tell you that “everybody” thinks you’re crazy or “they all say” you’re wrong. She likes to tell her friends and our family how “ irresponsable”, “immature” and no good for nothing i am, and how i am LEECHING her off... LOL -Jealousy. They accuse you of flirting or cheating on them. Usualy when i game or sometimes, ppl call me and talk to me, and she will eavesdropp my conversation and enter my room to hear better, or later wait until i leave the room , to complain about how i treat my friends so well , and speak so well to them , and how it is possible that i talk to her bad all the time and treat her like shit (? LOL ) Well for starters my friends dont misstreat me or call me names, or try to humiliate me or control me LOL or even pick fights with me. She will get mad at me for not wanting to spend time with her, and spending time with my friends. That im ungratefull and a bad daughter. LOL -Turning the tables. They say you cause their rage and control issues by being such a pain. This, that its my fault. That its my fault everything. - Denying something you know is true. An abuser will deny that an argument or even an agreement took place. This is called gaslighting. It’s meant to make you question your own memory and sanity. For example the other day , olso on the car, with the suicide attempt talk, i was trying to explain why and i told her my most painfull memory of her, was her beating me up for not knowing how to solve a math problem in 3rd grade. That she punched me several times because she tought i had awnsered 7 instead of 1. And she started yelling at me saying i made that up and shit. Like bitch i was afraid of doing my homework home because you would beat the crap out of me, instead of teatching me LOL. She once again used the “ blood pressure “ excuse and tried to hit me and kick me off the car in mid highway. -Using guilt. They might say something like, “You owe me this. Look at all I’ve done for you,” in an attempt to get their way. Ahh this is a classic. She says i owe her everything she asks for because SHE BIRTHED ME AND RAISED ME. And she used this argument to manipulate me in everything. -Goading then blaming. Abusers know just how to upset you. But once the trouble starts, it’s your fault for creating it. Yup -Denying their abuse. When you complain about their attacks, abusers will deny it, seemingly bewildered at the very thought of it. According to her, she just does everything she does because she cares LOL. -Accusing you of abuse. They say you’re the one who has anger and control issues and they’re the helpless victim. LOLOLOL cannot say this enought, SHE ACCUSES ME of being the abusive one , simply because i talk back, because i dont wanna be around her and because i fight with her LOL. Even tho she starts the fights and im just defending myself from her. -Trivializing. When you want to talk about your hurt feelings, they accuse you of overreacting and making mountains out of molehills. Yup -Saying you have no sense of humor. Abusers make personal jokes about you. If you object, they’ll tell you to lighten up. Yup -Blaming you for their problems. Whatever’s wrong in their life is all your fault. You’re not supportive enough, didn’t do enough, or stuck your nose where it didn’t belong.  ALSO YUP -Destroying and denying. They might crack your cell phone screen or “lose” your car keys, then deny it. Tried to break my things numerous of times, or trash them or give them away. Wich she did. -Demanding respect. No perceived slight will go unpunished, and you’re expected to defer to them. But it’s a one-way street. Yup... She will  happly tell me how to dress saying what im wearing is ugly, i will politely tell her to stop, she will continue to give her “opinion” i will get tired and yell to stop , she will immediatly demand respect and tell me i have no right to talk back at her and that im disrespectfull and stupid. -Shutting down communication. They’ll ignore your attempts at conversation in person, by text, or by phone. Yup -Dehumanizing you. They’ll look away when you’re talking or stare at something else when they speak to you. Yup -Keeping you from socializing. Whenever you have plans to go out, they come up with a distraction or beg you not to go. Also Yup She wouldnt let me go out if i didnt do my bed, and would make up shit just so i wouldnt go out, until i got tired and gave up. -Trying to come between you and your family. They’ll tell family members that you don’t want to see them or make excuses why you can’t attend family functions. Well she constantly came in between my first real good therapist. I was finally seeing  a good therapist a few years ago. I was finally relieved and tought i could trust him, all of a suddent she demanded to be in the therapy sessions. So in the sessions instead of talking about what upset me and her constant mental abuse, the therapist gave in to her demands, and started adressing HER issues with me. I remenber the LAST time i decided to attend the doctor. He would first attend my mom , then me. So i came up, and he started his usual talks, and i wanted to talk to him that day about the nightmares i was having and if he could help me. And all of a suddent he cut the conversation off by saying “ ah wait so your mother tells be you have been staying a lot of time on your computer “ “ that you dont socialize with your friends and that you dont go out “ I mean i wonder why i get stuck in my pc and dont go out with my friends LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL She would always cut me off from meeting my friends, she would always control me, so i had less interest or courage to make friends year by year. And gaming was the only thing that brought me joy in my shitty depressed life coz i couldnt develop any interests. -Withholding affection. They won’t touch you, not even to hold your hand or pat you on the shoulder. They may refuse sexual relations to punish you or to get you to do something. She wil straight up give me the cold shoulder, ignore me if she is mad because i didnt do something how she wanted. When i had hand surgery, she refused to go with me, or get me. By me it was ok , she didnt need to go or anything. So after surgery i told the doctors i would take myself home, and why. And they didnt allowe me and still called my mom even thought i told them she wouldnt. She treated me so badly after picking me up from the hospital because they called her. -Tuning you out. They’ll wave you off, change the subject, or just plain ignore you when you want to talk about your relationship. Yup -Actively working to turn others against you. They’ll tell co-workers, friends, and even your family that you’re unstable and prone to hysterics. YUP -Calling you needy. When you’re really down and out and reach out for support, they’ll tell you you’re too needy or the world can’t stop turning for your little problems.  YUP -Interrupting. You’re on the phone or texting and they get in your face to let you know your attention should be on them. Yup -Indifference. They see you hurt or crying and do nothing. Yup - Disputing your feelings. Whatever you feel, they’ll say you’re wrong to feel that way or that’s not really what you feel at all. Yup

[fazpark-moved]

I hope the read more actually works bc i can never tell if it does ugh.

[[MORE]]

Im in crisis mode right now, and I genuinely dont have anyone to reach out to currently so im turning to tumblr ig. I'm not expecting anyone to read this, message me, comfort me, etc. i can do that myself. I just need to talk to SOMEONE about this and this is the closest I'll get.

My dad moved someone in very similar to my abusive step mom. She lived with us for 5 years and has left me, and my sisters with lasting trauma. My dad refuses to acknowledge he fed into her hurting us, or our bio mom hurting us, and is repeating the cycle of bringing home an emotionally unstable woman. The red flags are there. A woman taking care of a 13 and 10 year old should not be on her second glass of wine at 8 am. A woman taking care of children should not scream and scare eveyone for no reason. I bring this up and he gets violent towards me. He isnt physical, but he screams and throws things. He recently said the most harmful thing he could've ever said to me, effectively perminantly ruining our relationship.

I told him he needed to take reaponcibility for his actions, thats what hes taught me my entire life after all. He rolled up his sleeve, doing a cutting motion and scream-asked me if i wanted to "go ahead and slit his wrists for him." Ive almost killed myself multiple times by cutting, i have deep scars on my entire body i cant hide. Ive been clean for two years. He's seen me bloody and shaking before and would not take me to a hospital. This is the first time since december ive considered cutting or killing myself. I havent cut myself in two years.

I was going to move in with my mother. She is an ex heroin addict and a contributor to many of my issues. She isolated me, abused me verbally and in other ways im not comfortable listing. She has currently gotten clean in the past two years as well, she goes to group twice a week, gets tested every other week, sees her therapist, and is sobor. She even quit smoking cigarettes recently, and im very proud of her. She had been a very positive influence on my life recently, and is my only adult/authoritarian support.

Im not allowed to move in with her. Im currently stuck jobless, with no liscense or car, in an abusive house hold withh a stranger who is incredibly emtionally unstable. I don't have a therapist, im no longer on anti depressants or mood stablizers. My dad has begun denying the fact that im diagnosed with cptsd, bpd and autism depsite being there when i was diagnosed. He purposefully keeps throwing out my name change papers, and wont take me to get my blood work so i can start T.

Ive lost all of my familial support, and i can feel my friends getting sick of me. No one wants to hang out with a walking mental burden, no one wants to talk to someone who cant hold a conversation. I understand that. Thats on me. I dont have motivation to be me anymore. I dont have motivation to make art anymore. My computer is broken, so if i did want to draw i wouldnt be able yo digitally.

My lifes falling apart, and its only taken a week and a half for it to completely crumble and shatter all of my emotional pillars.

To my friends: im sorry. Im sorry if i mess up and hurt you or myself. Im trying to distance myself anyways. Im sorry i cant help you, i know youre all struggling too right now. I wish i could provide support, and im trying my best i swear.

[taegubun]

summer rain

‣ pairing - jjk x reader

‣ genre - a, f, m

‣ warnings - mentions of death, alcohol

‣ word count - 1151

‣ a/n - first bangtan fic ! im v new to writing on tumblr jfdsakjh and im not used to formatting so pls excuse this giant but 5 ft noob!! (any n all tips r appreciated :^))this is definitely not top quality but that wasn’t my aim, just more of a way to exercise my thoughts. nevertheless hope u enjoy. lmao @syubingseok 

If anything, Jungkook was the last person you wanted to call. You do it anyway; the path of the digits that make up his number is muscle memory. He is your reset, and you are so sorry for him.

As day retracts it traces out of your room, light inches out, its fingers splayed across the walls. They are honey coloured and gentle, like the hands that held your face last night. Hands that did not have to search for the curves of your cheeks, hands that fit like the last piece of a puzzle to complete you, hands that knew how to get you to trust them, hands that knew your body better than you did. Meanwhile, your hands were gripping fistfuls of grass because you could not promise that you would not leave nervous grip marks on his thighs.

His phone only has to ring once before you hear his voice; breathless, anxious, anticipating.

“Wanna go to the river, (Name)?”

Yeah, always.

“No I’m okay, Jungkook, I just…”

...wanted to hear you ask that question.

“Hm…”

Jungkook knows better. You need him to kiss you better and you need the amiable conversations between the river and shore to drown out the thoughts that thrash about in your mind.

“…I’ll be down there in 10.”

His tone implies that there is only resolution, no room for protest, because you both need each other.

The flow of city traffic has almost reached the point of complete diminution by the time you step out into the night air of august. Jungkook’s long sleeves that reach the tips of slender fingers when on his body now find themselves dangling a good five inches below yours. As the wind descends and glides along your skin, you feel as if you can finally breathe. The hot breath of mid August has retreated along with the sun into the horizon, and you wear Jungkook’s lingering scent on you like perfume, because you convince yourself it is almost like he is there with you. Almost there, but not quite. Not yet, anyway.

He forgot his shirt in your room last week, and you have not stopped sleeping with it since. It is lots of honey and milky bar soap and a little deodorant that provides solace when he is not physically there with you. He probably forgot it on purpose, but has not said anything about it. That is just exactly Jungkook; a silent, generous giver, which is more than okay with you. It is just like how he has not told you he loves you, but you would rather him not. You would rather him show you love in all its worth.

You know that it is wrong; to want him, to want his love and his everything when he told you that is all he has to offer, and makes clear his wish for you to accept it. He also wished that he could have bought your family flowers for when your older brother died, and he never stops wishing he had enough money to buy a car so that he could have driven Taehyung home that night instead of Taehyung’s unassuming, insistent, intoxicated friends.

You find Jungkook on the dock, singing softly into the breeze. He loves to sing, and you love to listen to him. Eventually, you settle in beside him. Hip rests squarely against hip, palm meets palm, and Jungkook’s thumb begins to mindlessly runs up and down the length of yours.

“You should have taken that scholarship, Jungkook,” you say quietly. At least the music department recognized his talent enough to get him a partial scholarship to that prestigious music academy Jungkook always talks about.

“I couldn’t have afforded it, (Name),” Jungkook replies gently, and you know he is not just talking about his financial standpoint.

You both could not afford it. Probably more you than him, and it guilt trips you over and over until your knees are raw and bloody with scrapes and regret. It is just a reminder that you do not really deserve jungkook. Not when all you do is hold him back.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

His thumbs that feathered across your digits become costive and Jungkook withdraws his hand tentatively. He stays silent, and you are sure it is because he knows full well it is because he cannot leave you. He will not say it.

The taste of melon and honey and love suddenly presents itself on the rim of your lips because this is Jungkook’s way of telling you to shut up. He inhales sharply only to push his mouth against yours harder, and you feel the taste of him parading down your throat, and into your stomach. You are filling up with love and it feeds your heart the will to be strong once again.  

Jungkook is cupping your face again, resting his fingers just behind your ears, and you are spinning again because his fingers are ghosting over the artery in your neck that now throbs violently.

You are kissing him, and in the process you are healing, but you swear your carotid artery is about to burst, and you do not suppose his kisses will be able to heal that.

Your hands find refuge when they clench the grass below you once again, but relief is short, because Jungkook drops his hands from your cheeks to guide yours to his neck and the tension comes back tenfold with nerves that concentrate themselves at the core of your chest this time.

Jungkook’s fingers tremble their way down your back, but never reach past your waistline, because he wants to make you feel like you are in a safe haven, like his arms are meant for you to cry in, sleep in, hide away from the world in. He does not push you, does not push himself into things that make the both of you scared, because you are still both trying to find love within yourselves.

Mouths brimming with love and sad smiles draw away from each reluctantly, while your temple finds residence against the side of his cheek. You feel murmurs of his heart that beats against yours as you bring your legs over his to nestle into his side. Murmurs and of his heart and the murmurs of the river coalesce, and you are falling into sleep’s realm, arms still dangling around Jungkook’s neck.

“I stayed because of me,” his voice blends seamlessly into the night, the quality dark and earthy like the sky.

“Don’t think I don’t need you, because I do…”

You can feel his heart reach out to yours, pleading, as it thrums against yours. You break.

“God, I need you so bad.”

You are not sure if it is your tears or his tears or the summer rain that was supposed to fall yesterday that tumble clumsily down your cheeks. Maybe it is all three.

[universo-de-sean]

this is v late but do all da asks from 3 days ago pls

Anything for you, princess :*

1. Name

Sean Taylor Castillo 

2. Age

19

3. City that you live in

San Antonio, TX

4. What do most people not know about you?

I love showtunes

5. What do most people know you for?

Being savage and working a lot. 

6. Hobbies

Movies, videogames, hockey, drawing, various arts and crafts, singing, etc, anything to keep me entertained. 

7. What are your passions?

Working, teaching, history, music, cuddling. 

8. What do you search for in a significant other?

I look for somebody with a great sense of humor, big beautiful smile, smart, funny, cute as fuck. Someone that is loving and supporting and doesn’t think im weird for all my odd habits, ticks, and perpetual restlessness. Someone that I am incredibly proud of and is amazing and that I fall more and more in love with every day. Pretty much I look for Mahfuz. She the love of my life.

7. What are you most proud of?

Not fucking everything up yet!

8. When was the last time you had a significant conversation with someone you love?

Everyday

9. Have you ever collected anything? What was it?

Movies, games, cool rocks. I’ve collected a few things as I’ve grown up.

10. List 10 things off of your bucket list.

Get married to the love of my life, own a home, start a family, see the ruins of as many ancient civilizations as possible, learn a second language, teach students to find the truth themselves, fight the system, see the northern lights, find true happiness, build some dope ass furniture. 

11. What was the last thing you learned?

The Spanish language derives a lot from Arabic

12. How many relationships have you been in?

4

13. Turn ons

My lips are sealed

14. Turn offs

Myself. And poor hygeine

15. Favorite food

Yes

16. Favorite drink

Bleach

17. What is the best birthday gift you have ever received?

The gay shit Mahfuz sent me. 

18. Are you optimistic or pessimistic?

I’m a realist. 

19. Do you sleep during class?

Not anymore 

20. What is the most expensive thing you own?

My organs.

21. What is the cheapest yet most useful thing you own?

Pocket knife.

22. How many times a day on average do you check your phone?

Boi...

23. Text or call?

Depends on the person. Overwhelming majority I’d text. A couple people id call. 

24. Opinion on long distance?

Hard. But with patience and work, it’s amazing. 

25. What is your definition of success?

Being happy and content. 

26. Favorite song?

I have no idea. All of them???

27. Favorite artist?

Cage the Elephant, Modest Mouse, Alabama Shakes, Bahamas

28. Celebrity crush/crushes?

Chris Pratt, Rami Malek, Sydney Crosby and Emma Stone

29. When was the last time you read for fun?

Few months ago. 

30. Favorite flower?

Bleeding Hearts

31. What is the best gift you could receive right now?

The ability to see Mahfuz. 

32. Any guilty pleasures?

Sin

33. What is one thing you would like to change about yourself?

My weight. I’d like a much better body.

34. What do you search for in a friend?

Do they want to hang out with me. 

35. How many times have you said "I love you" in the past month?

A million. I love a lot

36. Where did you last go other than your room/home?

Work

37. Why do bad things happen to good people?

Great cosmic Idiocy

38. In your opinion, what hurts more? Being left out or being stabbed in the eye?

Stabbed in the eye. I’m used to being left out. 

39. How many green shirts do you own?

None

40. Do you like anime?

Some of them 

41. What do you invest the most time in?

Being worthless ;*

42. What was the name of the last book you read?

The Unfinished Journey

43. What's the difference between loving and liking someone?

Someone that can excites you versus someone that can excite and soothe you. 

44. Where are you most productive?

What is productivity???

45. List 3 things you enjoy doing with friends.

Chilling, Chatting, Questing

46. List 3 things you enjoy doing alone.

Draw, play music, singing

47. Do you believe world peace will ever exist?

Not until people accept difference 

48. Do you have any allergies?

Too many

49. When was the last time you cussed at someone?

30 seconds ago. I swear like a sailor

50. What was the last promise you made?

I will break his legs if he does anything fishy. (To my sister in regards to a person she is seeinng) 

51. What was your last dream about?

Dont remember. 

52. If you won a trip to Hawaii and you could take 5 people with you, who would those 5 people be?

Mahfuz, Peach, Analine, Jade, Nick

53. How many countries have you visited?

1 Mexico. 

54. What is your favorite medium of art? (Music, dance, painting, etc.)

All of them

56. When was the last time somebody complimented you?

Mahfuz does always. I love her. 

56. If you switched bodies with someone, how would you recognize yourself?

I have no idea. 

57. Do you consider yourself mature?

When I need to be. 

58. How many days in your life do you think you have wasted on tumblr?

A century 

59. What is your favorite quote?

“Be humble for you are made of earth. Be noble for you are made of stars.”

60. If you started a new religion and you had to create 3 rules or commandments for your new followers to live by, what would those 3 rules be?

Don’t be a dick. Do no harm. Take no shit. 

61. What is your greatest accomplishment?

Getting into college?

62. Do you believe in the death penalty?

For only the most heinous of crimes

63. What are your goals for life?

Find happiness, get a good job, live a good life, do as much good as I can.

64. What do you think your soulmate is doing right now?

Being a nerd. 

65. If you could live anywhere, where would you live? The place can be in an imaginary, fantasy, or the real world. 

In a galaxy far far away. During peaceful times of course. 

66. What were you like in 2013?

Fatter, more ignorant, annoying. Me but weaker. 

67. Do you have a job?

Yes. I have a job as a cook. It’s aight. 

68. Tell us a story about your childhood best friend.

They all ditched. What else can I say?

69. If you could change one thing about society, what would it be?

Everything.

70. How many all-nighters have you pulled before?

A shit-ton. 

71. Is tumblr your favorite website? If not, then what is your favorite website?

Netflix maybe

72. What is the craziest thing you would do for a million dollars?

Anything thats not illegal or immoral. 

73. Does money equal happiness?

Not necessarily. 

74. How many times have you experienced true happiness in your lifetime?

I’m not sure. A few?

75. How many times have you experienced true sadness in your lifetime?

Plenty. But fuck it. 

76. What is the funniest joke you have ever been told?

The One Thing You Cant Replace

77. When was the last time you looked at the news?

Earlier today

78. If you could say one thing to the world, what would you say? 

Chill the fuck out

79. What is your favorite animal?

Okapi!

80. If you could earn a million dollars by pretending to be dead for 3 years, would you do it?

No. It would hurt people I love. 

81. What is one thing that everyone is bad at?

Understanding

82. What time do you normally sleep? How many hours of sleep do you usually get?

Around 5 or 6 AM. 3-6 hours usually. 

83. Does age necessarily equal maturity?

HELL NAH

84. What is your favorite clothing store?

Ross and thrift stores

85. In the winter- beanies or gloves?

Beanies

86. Would you rather have wings or a fish tail?

Wings. I’d fly everywhere

87. If you had the power to erase one person from the world so that nobody remembered him or her except you, would you do it?

Oh yeah. Definitely.  

88. What do you fear the most?

Winding up alone. That I’m annoying. That I’m driving away the people I love.

89. How many digits of pi can you recite?’

3.14

90. If you could travel back to one year and relive it again, which year would it be? 

Sophomore. I’d make a few changes. 

91. Describe yourself in one word.

Punk

92. Describe your last victory.

Got outta work early

93. What is the weirdest thing you have ever seen?

Myself

94. What is something you will never forget?

I don’t remember. 

95. Would you rather forget all of the past or remember everything in vivid detail?

Remmeber everything. 

96. Have you ever broken a bone before?

Both my arms.

97. Is it harder to love or to hate somebody?

Hate. Love is natural. Hate takes something else. 

98. Coffee or tea?

Tea. 

99. What are some little things that you do that have changed your life in a positive way?

I’m not letting people use me anymore.

100. How many hours have you spend on tumblr today?

A couple. 

Thanks for the ask love bug:*