#imma come back to this but i just got my period its my shitty day I GET TO INDULGE

[maskyartist]

*slams hands on table* cloqwork ace attorney au.

[cielcius]

IN YOUR FAVOR | SUNA RINTAROU

pairings: Suna x g/n!reader

summary: In such a large, corrupt campus, it’s hard to find someone who’s willing to put up with anything, especially your drunk self.

from the writer: this was supposed to be my xmas gift here but oh well uhm anyways I have to work like three days in a row after posting this... fun :D eh idk maybe I'll get some inspiration from my male coworker while I'm at it or something (that’s not called using him.. righttttt? right :)) though this is technically going to be my last fic of the year, I'm glad its this one because imma be honest, I think I'm the shit/j no I just laugh at my own jokes but really, to anyone who actually reads my rants, I hope u enjoy this bc this made me laugh way more than any other fic I've written and in a way, its special <3

genre: fluff, crack, drunk fic, strangers to lovers (?)

wc: 4.4k (whew longest I've written in a while)

notes & warnings: reader is drunk!!! also a lot of secondhand embarrassment so this is your first and only warning!!! mentions of alcohol, two mentions of m*rder (in a drunk way), your dorm mates are really shitty, party at a sorority house, cursing, reader is all kinds of drunk (it’s called inclusivity people 😃)

“Hey, can you watch our drinks for us? We’ll be right back.”

Three red plastic cups find their way into your arms, the owners walking off without another word to you thus, leaving you defenseless in the house of a sorority you didn’t even know. The sigh you let out gets lost in the blaring music that bangs against the walls, vibrating with a frequency large enough to cause a headache without the alcohol.

You lean back against the wall, eyeing the entrance of the house with envy lingering in your eyes, before deciding right there that you’d leave the moment they came back for their drinks.

Placing the three cups down on the nearest table, you take to holding only your drink to which you periodically sip from. The alcohol burns as it passes through your throat, leaving an almost dry feeling in your mouth with a taste that makes you feel off about the beverage. Regardless, you continue with your drink, and then another, and then another.

It’s after you’ve already finished three drinks that your dorm mates come back, two hours having passed since they promised to come back for you. “Hey, sorry. We got distracted on the way back.” For two hours? Looking down, you can tell how they don’t even bother to hide the new drinks they had gotten for themselves along the way, making you roundly roll your eyes as you walk off.

“I’m leaving.”

You don’t wait for an answer, and even if you did, it’d only be drowned out in the music just like everything else. Your cup finds the trashcan on the way out and you’re thankful for the cold air that greets you as you walk down the shallow steps of the porch, regardless of it being the middle of winter.

You should have known it was a bad idea to come along in the first place, especially when the word sorority had made its way into the conversation. You mentally shake your head, trying to clear your mind and the bad gut feeling for the most part before reminding yourself that you could start looking for your own apartment soon as you start your walk back to the dorm building.

All is quiet but it takes a minute for you to notice that your steps are starting to fall out of sequence, your body swaying as you desperately try to find your balance again. Shit. Tell-tale signs of alcohol.

Looking around, you spot one of the many cafes that litter the campus, the warm light attracting you like a fly as you mindlessly stumble through the door. Though it could be considered early to be leaving a party, you still feel the pins of shock at the sight of a line to order and people lounging about at tables seemingly placed at random.

The thought dawns upon you: a night cafe.

The sign with their hours on the door is too small and blurry for you to make out, but it’s pointless as you’ve already claimed a spot in line without thinking so much of what to order or to even skim the menu. What am I doing? I should just go home instead.

Just as your conscious agrees with your mind, your body digresses in retaliation as it brings you closer to the counter in shaky steps and unbalanced coordination. Just as you’ve watched your feet hold a place where your body is oddly balanced, you’re called up to the register to order.

Your hands land on the counter, palms flat as your arms straighten to support your weight and you keep your head down. “Um, I...” Just leave! Your eyes follow the counter several inches to the right where you spot a menu, but the words are too blurry for you to read. You’re drunk.

Just as you think about reaching out for the menu, one of your arms give out, your legs already too tired to support your weight any longer, and you think you might just be ready to leave this world after coming to the conclusion that there is no coming back embarrassment-free from passing out at the register of a cafe.

The ground grows closer as you fall, almost in slow motion until you stop. There’s something that comes around your back, warmth palming at your side as one of your arms is lifted to come across a pair of broad shoulders. Someone caught you.

“I’m sorry,” You hang your head impossibly further. “I didn’t think the alcohol would be so strong.” You keep your eyes down on the floor, watching a pair of black boots walk closely to yours. In the sound distance, you think you hear words of reassurance.

Your mouth speaks apologies for you before you’re being seated at a table, a tall window serving a scene of winter pleasant on the eyes. The cool air is frosted against the glass window, a chill emitting a shiver that runs up your spine and falls down your arms before you hear a voice speak muffled words, the same voice that spoke of reassurance.

You let out a soft sigh of confusion, eyes glazed over but ears perked as you listen again. “I’m gonna get you some water and food.” There’s a pause, but eventually, you realize that the person speaking is waiting for an answer. You nod quietly, lips pressed together in a silent apology and agonizing shame.

I really should have just left.

You wait until the black boots disappear to lift your head, turning to look at the drizzle starting outside the cafe. You watch as anonymous figures in large coats jog for shelter, book bags being held over heads as a temporary shield. Even as you sit in the arms of manmade sunlight, it oddly feels as if you’re running with them in the rain, just as cold under the sky that bears its tears to the world.

There’s a clash of ceramic on the table in front of you, but it isn’t until something bumps against your shoe that you turn your attention away from the window. The black boots are back, one near your shoe that’s enough to tell you what had bumped against your foot.

You look at the table, a steaming mug of what looks to be hot chocolate and a plated croissant sitting fresh in front of you. You curl your lips in, the bottom half stuck between your teeth, before popping them back out. “Thank you...” When you raise your eyes to look straight ahead, you can only make out the middle section of a black apron, breast pocket showing no name or name tag of the sort.

“Suna. Suna Rintarou.”

You raise your chin, making brief contact with green before looking away with a pout just shy on your lips. “Thank you, Suna.” Hopefully, he’s heard you over the distant chatter of lingering customers as your head fills with one thought.

He’s... pretty.

The hot chocolate slides past your throat, not as easy as water would but easier than the alcohol that now runs freely through your veins. You let out a quiet sigh when you’ve let the mug hit the wooden table again, the smell of chocolate burning on your lips with a sugary aftertaste.

Slowly, you go to pick at the croissant, flakes falling to the pristine ceramic in a similar manner of fall-toned leaves kissing the concrete with tips curled in at a last attempt of self-protection.

Oh, now you’re getting a little too cheesy.

You look down your side again, eyes traveling down the arch of your leg and to the floor where black boots wait in patience.

“Are you okay to get home—”

“I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.” The piece of the pastry you once held in your hand is placed back onto the plate before you continue. “I really don’t drink this much, I don’t know why I did, but I’ll pay you back. Here, lemme get my wallet out.” Your voice trails off, eyes pointing themselves to the pocket of your coat where you think your wallet might be.

Your hand is shoved into the pocket, fingers clumsily rummaging around until pressure on your arm stops you mid-search. “You don’t have to pay for anything,” There’s something else that Suna says but you don’t get a chance to hear as he continues. “Just tell me if I can call someone to pick you up or help you back to... wherever you came from.”

“I was born in (hometown).”

“Okay, thank you. So there’s no one I can call?”

You shake your head, the knowledge of your roommates being the only people you know lingering absentmindedly in your brain. There was no one else, so you shake your head again. “My roommates are still at the party, high and drunk off their asses by now, I bet.”

There’s a low scoff, one that almost sounds like a chuckle but there’s no time to think as Suna sits himself in the seat across from you. “Okay, I’ll drive you to your apartment—”

“I live in the dorms.”

Suna presses his lips together, silent and in waiting in case you have something else to say, before proceeding. “Okay, I’ll drive you to your dorm after I close up. Sound good?” You pause before nodding silently.

“Thank you, Suna.”

—

You don’t realize that you’ve fallen asleep until Suna is shaking you by the shoulder, the engine turned off with the car still on, and the headlights reflecting with a harsh glare against the car in front. “Building C, right?” Just as you had told him, he had parked right across the street from the brick building stacked tall with overpacked dorms and communal bathrooms. Home sweet home.

“Uhm, y-yeah. Looks like it.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have parked across the street. Suna thinks to himself with a frown pressing on his lips. “Can you get in by yourself?” He eyes the building across the street.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s... um...mm.” Mid-sentence, you fail to catch your head that falls limp on your shoulder, pushing your body into an uncomfortable position as you lose another battle to sleep.

Suna turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt before going around the car to help you out of your seat. With your arm around his shoulders and his under yours, Suna is almost tempted to just carry you as he nearly drags you across the street and to the entrance of the building.

“Hey, can you get your entrance card out? Need to scan it to get in.” When Suna looks down at you, your eyes are slitted and glazed over, but more or less open as you slowly gain consciousness. With a small hum, you start to fumble for a card before pressing it against the panel.

The light flashes red.

Again, you press the card against the panel, and again, the light flashes red. Looking down at the card, you almost sink into yourself as your eyes find red letters in bold. “Oh, this is a Ch*potle gift card. Oops.”

That’s actually an Am*zon gift card, but Suna keeps his lips sealed as you finally pull out your entrance card to which a green light flashes in response. “Waiiiiit.” Suna turns to look at you, foot raised in a mid-step through the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

He watches as you cast your eyes downward, a force pulling the edges of your lips down. You mutter something too quiet for him to hear, so Suna leans in closer with a question for you to repeat it. “What if you do something bad?”

There’s a pause in his actions, delayed by a sliver of shock before he’s overtaken with amusement. “Oh? Like what?” Straightening to his full height, or as much as he could with you on his shoulders, Suna can’t help but let a smirk fall onto his lips.

“Like,” You lean in closer to his ear. “stealing my stuff. O-or, m*rdering me.” All in the midst of drunken chaos, Suna thinks this is the best use of his time that he’s ever invested in. “That’s a big jump between the two. Hm, maybe you shouldn’t let me go with you. Good thinking.”

Sliding his arm out from under you, he lets you stand on your own two legs, wobbling like a newborn until you admit defeat by grabbing onto his outstretched hands. “Okay, let me just walk you to your door then—”

“Nooo.”

“I won’t steal your things, or k*ll you.”

You look up from your feet to Suna. “Promise? Or else I’ll never be able to wear these shoes again” The two of you look down at said shoes, the toes clicking together and Suna has to admit—they do look good on you. Suna bites the inside of his mouth to rebel against an oncoming laugh that threatens to break his exterior.

“I pinky promise.” Suna isn’t sure what he meant to accomplish by adding the action of interlocking pinkies, but that seems to further reassure you as you let him guide you inside the dimly lit building.

The cold elevator lighting stabs at your temples as you enter, your eyes squeezed shut before you open them slowly to adjust. “What floor do you live on?” Suna brings you over to the panel with many buttons waiting to be pressed—

“I swear to god if you even think about pressing all of the buttons on here, I will get off and take the stairs back down.” Though the statement itself should worry you, it only brings a giggle bubbling at your lips before you look back at the panel. “It’s the third one,” You press the button, and the doors close. “I think.”

Suna hopes he heard wrong just now.

You’re slightly leaning into him more by the time the elevator doors open again, body nearly lax against his until he’s nudging you awake. Walking out, you’re met with two signs pointing down two different halls with a section of numbers on each.

“What number is your dorm?”

“Three hundred and eighteen, on the right.”

Suna brings you to the left, double-checking the sign pointing and labeled with numbers three hundred to three hundred and fifty. In the distance, presumably down the right hall, there’s shouting. Suna thinks quietly to himself once again. I hate dorms.

It’s a short stroll down the hall with an occasional misstep but you eventually make it there safe. “You have your key, right?” Your eyes widen, suddenly wide awake as you look up at Suna. That’s why you couldn’t fully get rid of that bad gut feeling from earlier.

“Oh no.”

—

“Red toothbrush, just like you asked.”

Handing you the plastic package, Suna watches as you fumble to get the opening before tearing the cardboard at the back. “Hehe, yay.” Still seated at the edge of his bed with your clothes folded on his dresser, you swing your legs slightly toned in Suna’s spare clothes.

Suna draws out a short sigh after looking at the situation he’s gotten himself into but alas, finds himself patting you on the head before turning to wash up in the bathroom. How did he become so weak to (your) puppy eyes in such a short time?

“Oh, I’ll grab you a towel.” Walking out into the hall, Suna digs through the closet but finds no spare towels in the end, eventually sighing as he finds himself making his way into the only other bedroom in the apartment.

“Tarou? What are you doing in my bathroom?”

Suna’s younger sister is typically a heavy sleeper, but of course, he can count on her the most to wake up during the few times he wished she wouldn’t. “Do we have any extra towels?”

“Huh? Why—” The young woman gasps. “Do we have guests—do you have a guest?” Hoping that the next morning would work in his favor—however it played out—Suna gives a brief explanation of the situation to his sister.

“Awh, you must really like them if you—” Quickly, Suna slaps a hand over his sister’s mouth and as much as he loves and adores her, he can’t find himself doing so at the moment.

“Good night.”

Leaving his sister’s bedroom, Suna finds you at the bathroom sink of his own room with a pout spread across your face. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I’m the best person to put the toothpaste on.” Looking down at the toothbrush, Suna notices the dot of toothpaste that’s only managed to land on the handle of your toothbrush. “Here,” Suna washes it off before redoing it. “Ah.”

Grabbing hold of your chin in one hand, Suna uses the other to brush your teeth as firmly as he can without hurting you. “Suna, I ca’ brus’ myshelf.” He curses quietly to himself. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

Even as he looks away, Suna can hear the hum of curiosity coming from where you stand. Turning back, your head is tilted slightly to the side with eyes drowned in confusion. Don’t look at me like that.

Suna sighs. “I have a little sister that I used to help get ready in the morning for school.” At the mention of a sister, you perk up, but his explanation is forced to wait as he steps out of the bathroom to let you wash up.

Finally, you walk out with a mind that’s admittedly clearer than before. “You used to brush her teeth for her?”

“Yeah, and her hair, and get her breakfast.” Looking over at you, Suna is met with a teasing smile to which he grimaces at. “That’s nice. Are you looking for another sibling?”

With a gentle push, Suna rolls his eyes as your chuckles make a brief appearance. “No, shut up.” Though he was thankful that you had sobered up a little more at the end of the night, Suna still hadn’t come to the issue of where to sleep until now.

Grabbing a blanket, Suna starts to make his way out of the room, until your voice stops him. “If you’re comfortable, we can sleep in the same bed, but otherwise, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Looking back at you, Suna raises an eyebrow before walking to stand before you. “You’d let a guy like me sleep in the same bed as you?” With a playful tone twisting itself into his words, he awaits your response that doesn’t come as expectedly as he thought.

“Yeah, you are letting me sleep here despite not knowing me, and you already pinky promised to not k*ll me so I’d say it’s a win-win.” For you.

Suna lets out a huff of amusement, a smile teasing his lips before he gives in once again. “Fine. Just don’t hog all of the blankets.” You smile back at him.

“Good night, Suna,” You pause. “And thank you.”

—

The digital clock on the nightstand reads six in the morning when you peel your eyes open, letting your vision adjust as the numbers no longer appear as a jumbled blur of red. A grey sky sits past the light curtains of the bedroom, casting a glow that’s delicate and yet enough to let your eyes scour the interior of the room.

There’s a weight on your waist and another that pulls against you at the shoulders, both coming from the source of Suna Rintarou. His grip on your body is unexpectedly tight, even in the midst of his dream-infested slumber, and before panic can set in, the events of the night before flash through your mind and leave you with a horrified expression spread across your face.

I’m never gonna live this down. If your arms weren’t trapped in the hold of Suna, you would have definitely hidden your face in your hands but alas, you settle for the pillow as the haziness of sleep starts to fade away.

You can only crane your head at an awkward angle to get a glimpse at Suna behind you, and when you do, you’re tempted to fall back asleep as the need to not wake him arises—with the wanting of putting off your embarrassment. Though in the end, it’s not enough (even though you really wanted to go back to sleep).

The struggle to shimmy out of his arms turned to be worse than you thought and as your feet touch the cold floors of the room, you immediately want to dive back under the covers for some platonic (?) cuddling and warmth.

Before you even reach the bathroom, you give into digging through Suna’s closet for a sweater to keep you warm in the unnaturally cold apartment. Sending a mental apology and a promise to give it back later, you shrug on a sweater before making your way to the bathroom.

By the time you’re done, Suna is surprisingly still asleep under the warm covers of his bed, a visible empty space indicating your stay. Maybe I could sneak back in— Before you can take another step towards the bed, your stomach squeals with the urge to eat. Pressing your lips tightly together, you restrain yourself from getting back in the bed and instead turn to venture further into the apartment.

Though you had an assumption that Suna was also a college student, you were still shocked to find yourself face-to-face with the person who seemed to be his roommate—a girl who seemed to be not much younger than you.

Your jaw slackens, mind racing to find something, to at least say good morning but the girl beats you to it. “Are you the girl Tarou brought home yesterday?” Tarou? Even if it were in a different context, meeting a stranger coming out of your roommate's room at six in the morning has never made a good impression on anyone, but you nod.

“Um, we didn’t do anything! I was just drunk and stupid—and really lucky, but I’ll leave now if you want—” A laugh cuts into your sentence, making you watch with wide eyes as the girl attempts to quiet down for the sake of it being early in the morning. “Sorry, it’s fine, really. Stuff like that and having to do with my brother definitely isn’t any of my business.”

“Brother—are you his sister?” Finally, the girl nods with a smile. “Suna Aoi, but you can call me Aoi.” Holding out a hand, you take it as an offering to shake before introducing yourself. “Even though this looks bad, do you want some breakfast? I can try to make you something.”

Without a word, Aoi leads you out into the kitchen, sitting herself on a counter stool with her hands folded in front of her. “Yes, please.” Sharing a laugh, you familiarize yourself with their kitchen and it isn’t until you’re digging through the fridge that Aoi speaks again. “Thank you, L/n.”

“No problem, and Y/n is fine.”

—

The sizzling of food on a pan is what wakes Suna up, and immediately without another thought other than the fact that his sister can’t cook for her life, he stumbles into the kitchen to be met with an unfamiliar sight.

You, the person he took in yesterday night, in his kitchen teaching his sister how to cook food that somehow hasn’t been burnt to a crisp yet.

“And then you just wait until the bubbles start to show before flipping it. Let me get the batter.” Your eyes meet when you turn to grab the bowl filled with the thick pancake batter, your sudden silence making Aoi turn in curiosity to see her brother standing with an unreadable expression—though she makes no comment on it. “Tarou! Look, I made pancakes.”

Moving to the side, Suna can see a plate with two pancakes stacked neatly on top of each other. In other cases, he would be none other than encouraging his sister to make more for him but in this case, the only comprehensible word he can get out is an ‘oh’.

Taking his sudden awakening into account, you take the chance to let Suna clean himself up. “Are you hungry? I’ll make some for you right now. You go eat too, Aoi.” Shooing the girl out of the kitchen with a spatula in hand, you shoot Suna a look before turning to make more pancakes.

Whatever the look is supposed to mean, Suna isn’t sure he wants to know.

When Suna comes back into the kitchen, he only finds Aoi sitting at the counter with an empty plate, save for the random drizzles and puddles of maple syrup. It isn’t until Aoi points it out that Suna realizes that he’s pointedly looking for you. “They went back to their dorm, but they’ll be back soon with your clothes.”

Nodding, Suna sits himself at the counter where a plate presents itself with a stack of pancakes, an extra third one sitting on top with a smiley face drawn from syrup to which he assumes is out of gratitude for last night. “Oh, and you know how I’m moving out, right?”

Suna looks over at Aoi, eyebrows raised slightly at the vague question. “Yeah? I literally packed half of your shit, and your welcome by the way—”

“I found you a roommate.”

“You what?”

Suna puts the fork down, steaming pancake piece forgotten on the plate as he fully turns to face his sister.

After breaking the news of moving out, Aoi had suggested Suna get a new roommate out of concern for his wellbeing (suggested being “get a roommate”). Though in all honesty, Suna was hoping to have a chance to live on his own for the first time—

“Oh, sounds like your roommate’s back.”

“What? They’re coming today?” With no time to ready himself, Suna watches as Aoi opens the door to reveal you in a pair of fresh clothes.

“The good thing is that you’ve already met them.” With arms in the air and jazz hands shaking, Aoi presumably introduces you as Suna’s new roommate.

“Hi, Suna. I’m L/n Y/n, your new roommate.”

Suna looks down at your outstretched hand, only going to take it in his own when he realizes that he never got your name in all of the time spent with you.

“Better start remembering then.” Aoi’s words reach his ears in a low voice, and Suna realizes that in the midst of his shocked state, he must have muttered his words aloud.

Fuck.

But maybe the morning did work in his favor.

Extra:

Looking up from your phone, you observe the cafe in its daylight image before turning to Suna beside you. “Damn, how’d you get around that counter in time to catch me? That shit’s long.” Without looking up from his own phone, Suna replies without a stutter.

“Oh please, I could see your drunk ass coming from a mile away.”

[gidleboo]

Jealous

an imagine where you were having a shitty week which only became shittier as you see Shuhua and Soojin together.

requested by: @jffbuckley

Word Count : 1,404

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You've been feeling annoyed over the stupidest things the past few weeks and it drove you crazy. Like when the cabinets won't close so you start furiously banging on them, or when the TV remote won't work which made you slam it hard on the couch.

What's worse was that your girlfriend is busy practicing all week for their next comeback and you're all alone at home with no one to comfort you.

You just got into the shower and when you reach for the shampoo bottle, you find it empty. You slam it to the floor and kick it angrily as you sigh to yourself, "The hell is wrong with me."

. . . . .

While you were scrolling through Instagram, you get a notification from Shuhua which immediately caught your attention. You opened the message and read, "Hey baby! Pick me up from the studio and let's stop by R/N, my treat :)"

(a/n: R/N means restaurant name for those who didn't understand xx)

You smile wide at your girlfriend's text and replied, "I'll be there in 20, love. See you!" and you quickly got up from the bed to change your clothes. You two were finally going to spend some time together and you couldn't be more happier.

You had so much to share and wanted her to talk about how their practice is going as well. You put on a simple white hoodie and black leggings paired with white shoes as you tie your hair into a messy bun.

You started heading out your shared apartment and when you thought nothing more could go wrong, someone bumped into you and accidentally stepped on your white shoes. Your white fucking shoes.

You started feeling your anger rise every second the person apologizes and you wanted to hit them so bad but instead gave him the fake "Its okay" reply just like you always do.

The moment they were out of your sight you started cursing and bent down to wipe your shoes with a tissue. You threw the tissue at the wall when the dirt wont come off and decided to just clean them once you get home.

You put on your earphones to listen to music to hopefully calm yourself down.

. . . . .

You were almost there and let Shuhua know that you were coming so that she could get ready to leave when suddenly another person bumped into you which made you drop your phone.

Apparently, it had been raining last night so your phone dropped into a small puddle of water. That was the last straw and you yelled at the person, "Dude what the fuck?! Could you look where the fuck you're going next time and not drop other people's phones?"

They immediately apologized as their face turned red and they handed you a napkin to wipe your phone with which you angrily took and stomped over once you were done.

A bunch of people were staring at you but you didn't care. You were feeling really shitty the whole week that you just exploded. You started walking faster out of rage. You just wanted to see your girlfriend with no problem, is that too much to ask?

. . . . .

You finally arrived and texted Shuhua you were there, wanting her to come meet you downstairs instead of you making your way to their dance studio since you were way too tired to move but, of course, Shuhua tells you to come up. "Babe at least say hi to the other members, I'm still gonna change clothes."

You groan but followed her anyways.

You took the elevator and walked down the hall you've been to before at least twice. It's been months since you last visited and so far nothing much has changed.

You reach their studio and hear their song "Oh My God" playing from outside the door. The song was about to come to an end when you knocked and decided to let yourself in.

You see Shuhua turn to look at you as she happily shouted, "Y/N is here!" You smiled softly and the song came to an end once you sat yourself down at the back of the room.

Everyone let out a breath of relief and Soyeon announced, "Good job you guys, let's take a break for 2 days. Hello Y/N." Soyeon smiled at you and went to her bag to wipe her face with her towel.

"Baby!" Shuhua ran to you and you panicked, seeing that she was all sweaty. You sigh and gave up as she hugged you tightly with the other members laughing at you both. "Shuhua, get off you're all sweaty, baby." You whine and try to pull her off your body but she doesn't let go.

"I missed you so much, you know?" Shuhua looked up at you and her face fell a bit seeing that you were a bit down. She held your face with her hand, "Baby, you okay?"

You gulped and shook her off and chuckled a bit before saying, "You're just sweaty, that's all." Shuhua laughed and pushed you. "I'll go change my top and we can go leave." Shuhua sat you down, telling you to wait. Minnie sat down next to you and gave you a smile that you returned.

You hear your girlfriend scream from across the room and you turn to see her and Soojin laughing hard at one another. You couldn't help but purse your lips at the two, the familiar feeling of annoyance slowly rising inside of you.

Shuhua started taking off her top in front of Soojin and you felt your eye twitch. "Shuhua." You called out before she could take off her top and she turns around to look at you, "Yes?"

You open your mouth to scold her but you shook your head instead. Shuhua looked at you funny and took off her top. You clench your jaw seeing Soojin's eyes wander as you look away. You liked Soojin and all but today was just a really fucked up day for you.

Shuhua changed into a black shirt and grabbed her bag before calling out to you, "Baby lets go!" You merely gave her a nod and started heading for the door without her which made Shuhua blink a few times as she felt a bit flustered.

. . . . .

The two of you settled for chinese food while Shuhua rambled on about her day as she mentions Soojin's name here and there. You didn't bother to listen once she started sharing about what she and Soojin were talking about.

Word after word about Soojin went through your ear and out the other until you finally got fed up and accidentally yelled, "Okay, I get it! Stop talking about Soojin as if she's the only one you see!"

Shuhua raised her eyebrows at you in shock, "Baby, what are you talking about? I was just explaining to you the concept of our new album." Shuhua said. Your face turned red from embarrassment as you realized what she said. You were really going crazy, imagining nonsense.

"Nevermind." You stuttered as you leaned your head on the table. Shuhua started smiling and brushed your hair through her fingers. "Is my babygirl jealous?" Shuhua teased while you sighed.

Shuhua laughed and you raised your head with a pout on your face. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, I don't know what got to me. This week was just really shitty." You leaned your head on her shoulder.

Shuhua rubbed your thigh in a comforting way, "Its okay baby, I understand. At least we can spend tomorrow and the day after with each other. Love you!" Shuhua grabbed your face and kissed your nose and you giggled.

. . . . .

You two were back at your apartment and the time read 7:03 pm. You were extremely exhausted and just wanted to sleep with your girlfriend cuddling you. "Baby, come join me." You call out to her as she ran in your bedroom and collapses next to you.

Shuhua giggled before turning off the lamp as she yawned. "Go to sleep babe," Shuhua said before hugging you and lifting her leg and placing it on top of your body. You smiled when you suddenly sneezed. You gasp which made Shuhua lift her head, "What's wrong babe?"

You immediately ran to the bathroom and Shuhua turned on the lamp. Shuhua sat on the bed with concern as she waited for you to exit the bathroom. "Baby, you okay in there?" She called.

You then exit the bathroom and said, "Baby I have my period."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

guys what even is this? my grammar is so bad xx

imma go proofread this later midnight since i still have 3 imagines to write skcnhd

thanks for requesting @jffbuckley and for using the prompt numbers 9 and 30

hope this wasn't too bad lol thanks for reading❣

[baguettelord]

So guys this is going to be a thing that I’m going to reblog with updates, so imma start with a basic explanation of Sydney to give y’all a bit of understanding as to why this shit is so weird. Y’all about to be edjumacated.

So I live in Sydney, Australia. Or, well, vaguely Sydney. I live about 50kms (30ish miles) WEST of the city, in a region called ‘Greater Western Sydney’. Whoever named it was a AAA+ fuckwit because there is very little about this area that people consider great.

So for an example, I’ll just show you a map of violent crimes for a 12 month period.

Of those two really big red zones, I live in the Eastern one, an area called Blacktown. (And yes, before you ask, that IS EXACTLY how it got it’s name)

West of that is Penrith and then you have the Blue Mountains region and beyond that is just farmers and kangaroos and dust.

So anyway, back to this thing. In my own little red zone, I live in the worst suburb group. It’s basically ground zero for shitty areas. It’s famous nation wide, and people from other states describe shitty areas by saying “this is the -insert my area name here- of Victoria/Queensland/whatever state.

It is THAT BAD. Fucked up shit happens here a lot. As in it is an every day occurrence and just normal. I’ve lived here my whole life so I’m a bit disconnected from how bad it is BUT ANYWAY.

I have recently ish started working in an area called Parramatta. So that’s the dark orange chunk just underneath those pale yellow ones and right next to the Blacktown area. Parramatta is a city in its own right (I define this by the size of the buildings and the fact it has non-seedy nightclubs. Also once you hit Parra, the further east you go, the less nature strip you have beside footpaths). This is an area with money but it’s still a bit shitty since it’s right next door to Blacktown. It’s basically where people go as they slowly claw their way east to escape the horror of living in GWS, OR because they have earned enough drug money to party hard and desire a bit more style than the local watering holes.

Parramatta is definitely higher class than Blacktown and a lot of the people there tend to be quite horrified by some of the things that I find rather normal.

That said, Parramatta is not entirely free from fucked up shit happening, it just isn’t as common and therefore can be rather unexpected. And this post is about sharing some of the weirdest things I have experienced, all of which from the past year have happened in Parramatta (where I have never worked prior to last year).

So here ya go with some weird stories.

SO one time I was going to work, walked through the work car park (which is really small), and something smelled REALLY BAD. This was a Monday, so bins go out the next day and I though oh man the shop next door must have a bin full of gross stuff or whatever, didn’t think much of it. Opened the front door, boss is sitting there at the desk and was like “oh shit don’t leave the door open there’s a dead sheep in the front garden”

Excuse me??

So I look back across the car park, to the small garden that separates us from the street, and sure enough there was a dead sheep.

So for any of you who happen to know much about Parramatta, that is fucking weird. People do not keep livestock in the city, it just does not happen. Y’all do not keep a sheep in ya damn penthouse flat.

Turns out this sheep had apparently been there since Saturday, but the council wouldn’t take it because it was on our property. Fair enough, I guess, but I don’t imagine how they could say that a music school could be responsible for an illegally dumped well-and-truly-dead sheep.

So the boss tells me he put an ad on gumtree (straya version of craigslist) to pay someone to come get it, and he was happy because this dude answered almost straight away and was super happy to be paid $200 (!!!!!!!wtf) to come and get this dead sheep.

So eventually the boss swaps with me, so I’m at the desk and he’s just hanging around waiting for this dude to show up to take the sheep and students start arriving and everyone’s going W.T.F IS A DEAD SHEEP DOING IN PARRAMATTA WHAT HAS THE WORLD COME TO (meanwhile me, from drug-addict-central just thinking this is not what I was expecting)

FINALLY the guy turns up on this rusty old white van, you know the kind that has a spare tyre on the front and a shitty bullbar that looks about to fall off? Yeah.

So he comes in, says hi, I’m here for ya sheep. This guy is OLD. Super tall old white guy, maybe 60 or 70 but he looked like he was made of leather. Half his teeth missing, smelled of warm VB. Just so bad, but he was fucken STOKED to be paid $200 for a rotting sheep corpse.

He goes out to the car park, and we watch in fascinated horror as he, without wearing any kind of gloves, scoops up this sheep in his ARMS and puts it on the back seat of his van. I will NEVER forget the WHATTHEFUCK look on my boss’ face.

So guy comes in, washes his hands and the boss very carefully places the money on the bench rather than risk touching this dudes hands by accident.

And then he asks a question that was absolutely unnecessary and we both immediately regretted.

“So what, are you going to take it to landfill or something??”

The fucking guy, totally serious, deadass looks straight at him and goes “WAT? why would I do that? I’m going to eat like a king, thanks the the $200” and fucking leaves with a dead rotting sheep in the back seat of his van.

What. The. Fuck.

[theboykingofhell]

9, 15, 16, 18, 26, 31, 32, 34, 41, 42, 45, 46, 47, 49, 51 for TSG, 54 :*

ricky found fucking dead in miami after looking at these PROMPTS,

9. Least favorite trope to write.

what a weirdly phrased question because if i hate it, i ain’t gonna write it... UHH. i really don’t like bringing dead characters back to life???? i don’t like writing scenes for shock horror... well, that’s a lie, i DO like to horrify the reader through my writing, but i don’t want to cheapen the emotional ~journey~ they go through by being like ‘JUST KIDDING! everything actually DOES work out in the end!!’

i have a story where narratively its kind of leading to a place where i have to make a ‘dead’ character come back (chaos actually, since i use her in red’s actual story) and it’s making me so mad like wtf thought we had a deal

15. Where does your inspiration come from?

SONGS... and just insp in general but i get a lot through music and nnnh... there’s just so many good aesthetics and quotes on my dash tbh i’m like constantly and consistently inspired, it’s great

16. Where do you take your motivation from?

imma be honest, the thing that motivates me most sometimes is either reading a rly shitty novel or seeing a shitty show and just getting livid and writing out of spite because THAT DRIVEL WAS PUBLISHED????? MY SHIT IS SO MUCH BETTER WTF... or i think to myself ‘what the fuck, what if i die tomorrow????? with my damn novel unfinished?!?!! HELL NO’... pretty much anything that reminds me that my stuff is Great but no one knows how great it is because it’s not DONE and OUT THERE yet makes me get off my ass

18. What’s your revision or rewriting process like?

depends! for books it mostly just consists of rereading after a long period of ignoring my story and just tweaking lines that seem out of place or that ruin the flow i’m imagining. if i’m rewriting, then i have two word documents out (which the program scrivener makes SO easy god BLESS that program) and just... rewrite it word for word while STARING at the old version. that always makes the prose come out slightly different, it smooths out stuff or lets me cut away or add things i really like and, most importantly, it adds length, which i tend to struggle with a lot because i like just being TO THE POINT

with playwriting though it’s mostly about the format.. i write all plays like i write everything online... in lowercase with little regard to actual grammar. so i gotta actually pretend i give a damn about the english language and format it all properly and add stage directions cuz in a first draft for plays, i always just focus on dialogue and that’s it

26. Standalone or series, and why?

standalones are far more fun and way more satisfying and, quite honestly, require way less fluff. i keep FORGETTING how much fluff is needed in a goddamn novel. MULTIPLE BOOKS OF FLUFF no FUCKING THANKS

31. Hardest character to write.

in the rp: tyler (because he dissociates in a way that literally cuts me off from? any parts of his character? which is like the ESSENCE of his character but it’s VERY unenjoyable to write tbh) and nicki (because i put too much pressure on myself to make her seem a certain way instead of letting it happen naturally)... tbh canon characters and/or characters that are based on people are generally just rly hard sometimes cuz there’s SO MUCH IMAGINED PRESSURE TO MAKE THEM GOOD!!!

in original shit: honestly i’m really tempted to say aaron and that’s just because he’s so... unlikeable to me???? but also i think it’s just because i’ve really only written one scene for him (i always write in order unless a scene is just KICKING MY ASS to write, like this particular scene) and... he seems like a Lot... of annoying bullshit to have to write out lmfao that bitch

32. Easiest character to write.

red because i’ve been writing him for like 7-9 years now, i would hope he’d be easy by now... honestly, really explosive and dramatic characters too like bert or nora come SUPER easy for me, they’re so fun to write (especially dialogue-wise) because they’re very emotional and i can get PARAGRAPHS based on one reaction. characters who try and hide shit from everyone, INCLUDING ME, are so annoying,

34. Handwritten notes or typed notes?

typed because they’re legible,,,,, but then again, my handwritten notes make more sense because they’re kind of fully crafted ideas like ‘***make nisha and aaron meet at 42nd street for transformation chap???’ while a typed note will be like... ‘42nd street+aaron’... what did that mean, ricky-at-5am... why did you do this to us

41. How many stories do you work on at one time?

two... kind of as a minimum, sort of as a maximum... like there’s usually the MAIN story and then there’s something i’m kind of doodling in the side, something that’s just sort of cooking in the backburner that i’m not too serious into the process of it, but it’s goin... i’ve never tried to do 3 stories at a time but i feel like my attention would be too divided and it wouldn’t work

42. How do you figure out your characters looks, personality, etc.

UHH........................................... i’m very fond of faceclaims cuz idk i just kind of... feel how they look... i don’t ever really envision a full person though, i get like traits... i’ll be like... oh she has long black hair and she’s not white and her eyebrows look like this... and then i’ll see a pic of pooja mor and be like THAT’S HER THAT’S EXACTLY IT. idk what it is about eyebrows and why that’s literally always the deciding factor of how a character looks, but there it is

personality just kind of... man, characters just poop out of me, i don’t decide any of this shit wtf jhsfjg

45. Worst piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

once someone told me to stop making the boys kiss in the first chapter of my story so i made the boys fuck instead

46. What would your story _______ look like as a tv show or movie?

scrolls WAY up... sees you didn’t add a story as a prompt WELL i’m still riding the tsg train here so

a tsg movie better look like the 90′s, goddamnit.. not like... found footage really, but i want something in the quality to be a little fuzzy and sort of tinted that one kind of grayish brown color i always associate with the 90′s for some reason... like, i can’t stop thinking about all these amber lighting and how dull everything looks, and how higher in quality things look the further and further it goes, like, it’s something i would concentrate a lot on visual cues with because i focus so much of the storytelling of tsg on nisha’s narration. sometimes you don’t know how many days have passed because nisha doesn’t know how many days have passed, if she dissociates, i’d want that shown on camera, if she keeps repeating the same number over and over again, i’d want to watch one little piece of a scene getting repeated again and again. it’d be VERY disorienting as a movie tbh but it’d be fun...

47. Do you start with characters or plot when working on a new story?

characters!!!! plot is such a backburner thing for me, if you have rly great characters, you already have a great plot right there. the plot is just set so i can see how characters react to things, man... 

49. What do you find the hardest to write in a story, the beginning, the middle or the end?

THE MIDDLE, FUCK THE MIDDLE.... endings are literally the easiest thing for me, beginnings similarly so, it’s just getting from that BEAUTIFUL starting scene to that GORGEOUS ending that fucking kills my poor undeserving asshole

51. Describe the aesthetic of your story _______ in 5 sentences or words.

low-res pictures of old cemetaries... that’s five words right there, i’m sorry but the END IS IN SIGHT, I’M ALMOST FREE AND CANT BE BOTHERED

54. Any writing advice you want to share?

can’t stress how useful having an insp blog is... creating a story through the unconscious collection of pictures and quotes that just feel relavant is just SO useful not just when it comes to really constructing a character an an atmosphere to your story, but making a fucking plot????? my tsg blog is like my most perfect insp blog because i got the idea to seperate it by chapters, and i’ve found that i can literally just... go into the chapter tags... and make connections and build on plotlines that i had NO IDEA ABOUT when i made or filled those tags, IT’S REALLY FUN and it keeps me inspired to write