#its 2am so if this is not coherent. yeah

[the-letter-s]

please tell me about jod and the people he pisses off, I have to know why that post was so relatable for him - @pretend-pretend-vampire

Okay so the first thing you need to know about Jod is he actually spells his name/psuedonym God, you know, like Christian Capital G God, I just tag and spell his name the way he has decided it is phonetically pronounced (Jod) because that is a lot less confusing The second thing you need to know about Jod is he just doesn't know when to stop committing to the bit. Ever. Its a defense mechanism so other kindred dont find out about the actual things he cares about. Such bits include -talking about the coterie ventrue's very real wife who is for sure alive and a woman and is also for sure cheating on him (for context said ventrue is a gay man who as far as Jod knows has never had a wife) -some fucking how convincing the whole ass fucking prince that the moon turning green is a sign of gehenna. This is based on literally nothing and gonna be honest Jod didnt think he would be taken seriously about that one. Hopefully the moon never turns green or shit is gonna Get Bad! -consistently changing his story about who he is or who he used to be in increasingly unbelievable detail -keeps attempting to steal library books, not for any nefarious purposes he just thinks its funny that literally everyone will try to explain that he really does not need to do that and thats not how libraries work -confidently declaring that the coterie tremere really really wants to find mothman and that he is going to Help. She does Not want to find mothman. Not Even A Little Bit -speaking of said tremere he also keeps trying to watch ancient aliens in her haven. She Does Not Approve -keeps implying that theres something super dangerous or secret in his haven and thus no one else is allowed to go in there, there honestly isn't but also one of the other players follows me on here so dm me for more info on that one -Vriska Serket Is A Real Kindred Who Is Real And Exists And Is A Threat And You Should Tell The Sheriff About Her Because He Would Never Believe Me, A Clearly Intoxicated Malkavian -Extremely inappropriate outfits Always. The only thing between this man and wearing assless chaps and booty shorts that say "this is not a place of honor" on the ass to elysium is the rest of his coterie still trying to keep a shred of dignity oh also he has an alcohol problem. Gonna be honest I dont think that would piss anyone off by itself necessarily but it also means that he's generally not considering the conses that could quence in very high pressure social situations so even if he is not committed to a bit in a specific moment and is actually trying to Be Serious For Real he is not exactly eloquent or polite about it!!! This is Very Bad when dealing with the camarilla!! Like he gets some leeway on account of the divine madness but not quite enough to make up the difference. But He Hasnt Met The Final Death Over It yet So Its Fine Do Not Worry About It

[slightlyunconventional]

its 2am and op needs sleep (2.1k)

hi d/abihawks nation here is your food for the day (more to come in the foreseeable) aaand yeah. this is from an ask i got that i didn’t answer with this because it had three parts to it and i wanted to actually do all three ?? idk. anyway if youre the anon who asked for d/abi inducing with his piercings then this is for you :)

The fuck kind of time to wake up is this? Dabi thought, squinting at the digital alarm clock beside the bed. 4:16AM, it reads. Still dazed, he rolled over with a huff and got ready to go the fuck back to sleep - until it hit him.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” he hissed, as an itch that felt like wildfire crashed into his sinuses like a freight train, rendering him unable to form a coherent thought for a good few seconds. He sat up. The motion somehow made the burn triple in intensity. He scrunched up his nose forcefully, waiting for it to succumb, for the itch to peak, but it didn’t. It felt like it was taking over his entire face, an incessant buzzing that wouldn’t back down, half-closing his eyes and forcing him to keep his nose held in a permanently-crinkled position. Dabi dared to rub at it, knuckles pushing back and forth rather aggressively, and instantly regretted what he’d done. The contact seemed to set alight a million different nerve endings, and he decided he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck me,” Dabi managed to breathe out. He stood up and made his way to the bathroom, the whole way squinting against the inferno plaguing his nose. The burn was near unbearable now, like flames licking at the tender inner walls of his nostrils, yet still nothing came of it. Even switching on the horrendously bright bathroom light in Hawks’ apartment, which usually managed to tease a sneeze or two from him, had no effect. Christ, he just wanted to go back to sleep. Eyes narrowing further due to the harsh transition from dark to light, Dabi moved to the sink and turned on the faucet. With a deep breath in, he splashed the cold water on his face a few times, and gave his full face a rather aggressive scrub with both hands for good measure. He stood up to find it had done absolutely nothing, and now he just had a wet face. Awesome. Why, for the love of fuck, was this happening? he thought in frustration. Could it have picked a more inconvenient time?

He grabbed a towel and dried off his face, rubbing with particular force at his nose (though still keeping low expectations that it would actually make a damn difference). The itch burned with ferocity, but remained stagnant; Dabi just wished it would either do something or piss off. For a man who normally despised sneezing - everything about it, the feeling, the loss of control, the vulnerability of it all - he seemed pretty desperate to do it now. He was running out of options, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to go wake up Hawks and make him stick a feather up his nose. There was probably a box of tissues in here, somewhere, he was sure, judging by how awful Hawks’ allergies got in the spring… bingo. It didn’t take long to find, just a few moments of staring into the medicine cupboard with one hand knuckling absently at the side of his nose. The dark-haired man pulled a few from the box, irritated, and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. The ever-present itch had his nostrils practically pulsing with need, and a handful of tissues suddenly pushed up to his nose really didn’t help. Hell, it was almost stinging now, and it was torturous.

“Shit,” Dabi breathed, as he began to rub his nose in slow, deliberate circles through the tissues. The sensation was all-consuming - he became completely laser-focused on the way the itch prickled ever so slightly with his movements. It was like the light at the end of a tunnel. He just had to will it to rise in intensity, just enough to make him– “...h-hhuh!” His breath caught, even if only slightly. Fuck, he was close, so damn close. In his mind he was begging for it, for relief, and he daren’t even move, for fear of losing the– damn it. The sting backed down just as quickly as it had come about, forcing Dabi to let out the breath he was holding in a short, irritated sigh. He couldn’t just go back to bed, not while this itch was still wreaking havoc in his face. But, it wasn’t like he had many choices left. The only thing he knew that really set him off was cats, and he was fairly sure bathrooms didn’t come preinstalled with a litter of kittens. Stubborn as ever, he refused to just give up and go sleep again - but what could he really do? Sit and wait it out, hoping it would just go away? Or go back to trying to make himself- hold on. Dabi suddenly remembered the absolute mess he’d been when he first pierced his nose (in this very bathroom, as a matter of fact). The needle had hardly been halfway through the cartilage before his chest was stuttering with rapid hitching breaths that had very quickly turned into fits of desperately itchy (and bloody) sneezes, untameable to the point where he had no input in the, well, output. He’d simply had to sit and let them barrel through him in awful tickly waves. He didn’t know why he’d sat through three rounds of that just for a triple nose piercing. One would have been plenty. 

Dabi pushed himself up from the edge of the bath, binned his tissues, and moved back to the sink. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment, running a tired hand over his face and sighing. His hand brushed lightly against the side of his nose, sending jolts up his sinuses, and he decided he couldn’t tolerate another second of such torment. The thought to pierce his nose again flitted briefly through Dabi’s mind, but was quickly dismissed. Imagine how that would go down. “Hey, you’ve got another piercing,” Hawks would say. “Oh, yeah, I had to sneeze really fucking badly last night so I did what any sane person would do - gave myself a fourth nose piercing!” Dabi rolled his eyes at the thought. He went for the next best thing - messing around with his current piercings to try and make something happen.

He leaned in closer to the bathroom mirror, well aware that he looked an absolute sight for sore eyes, red-rimmed nostrils and an oversized t-shirt hanging awkwardly around his frame proving an… interesting combination. Christ, what am I doing, he thought, as he took a silver stud between his fingers and began to twist it - and, hell, the effect was instantaneous. Immediately, the tickle reared its head, intensified tenfold from before, and all but consumed him. There was nothing he could do to stop his jaw from slackening, his eyes from fluttering shut, his nostrils from flaring to nearly twice their size– “Shit, shit, s-shiihh–!”

Breaths rising in his chest, pitchy and desperate, Dabi let out a string of curses and stumbled backward, almost losing his balance as the need to sneeze took over him such that he couldn’t possibly think about anything else. He braced a hand against the edge of the sink to keep upright, drew in an immense gasp, and pitched forward at the waist– “hh’hhahH’DDSHHhhew! Hohhh, God, fuck me…” The sneeze that followed was harsh, scraping, and instantly relieving. But Dabi soon found that he was nowhere near done, and snapped forward with a trio of back-to-back sneezes, equally intense as the first.

“huhH’HDJJSHHh! ‘gGKSHHh’uh! hah’DSHHh’iew!” He straightened up to try and catch his breath, but his nose tingled in a way which meant there was guaranteed to be more sneezing to come. He was about to cast his gaze up to the light fixture on the ceiling to try and coax it out prematurely, until he saw a glimpse of red in his peripheral vision - Hawks. Shit. How long had he been standing there? Dabi looked at him, unsure of what to say. The hero was sure to have a barrage of questions for him, he could already imagine it: Are you getting sick? Allergic to something? Oh my god–is it me? Did I use a new… something? I’m so sorry, are you okay? He was leaning on the doorframe in a loose-fitting shirt that Dabi had sacrificed (cut holes in the back of to accommodate Hawks’ wings) and wearing an expression that was a blend of sympathy and amusement. Dabi opened his mouth to speak.

“Bless you,” Hawks said, with a lopsided smile, before Dabi had the chance to say anything.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean t-to… wake you up,” he replied. Fuck, he still needed to sneeze.

Hawks exhaled a little laugh. “It’s okay. You were sneezing pretty damn loudly, it would have been hard not to.” He took a few steps forward and wrapped his hands around Dabi’s arm, absentmindedly rubbing tiny circles with his thumbs.

“Are you okay?” he asked, more of that sympathy now shining through. As predicted, questions. “Yeah, I– fuck, I-I, hhah– needtosneezeagaiihHGKSHHhew!” He sniffled, then used his free hand to rub his nose, hard. “No idea what it is, just… started.” At least it was partially true. He did have no idea what it was, but he wasn’t about to admit to Hawks that he’d actually been trying to make himself sneeze for the best part of half an hour. Hawks frowned. “Bless you,” he said again. “You aren’t sick? A cold, maybe?” There it was again. “No, dumbass, it’s May.” “Who says you can’t get colds when it’s not winter? I get colds when it’s not winter!” Hawks said indignantly. Dabi huffed a laugh. “Yeah, that’s you though. Your immune system’s shi-sh-hhahH’dDTSHHh’uh! Shit.” “Shut up,” Hawks said, swatting his arm. “Sounds pretty itchy.” Dabi pulled a face at that. “Sounds itchy? How can– how– Jesus, fuck, always when I’m trying to t-talk…” “Bless you-!” Hawks said prematurely, tipping his head to the side. “-hhHRRSHHHhew!” The smile on Hawks’ face widened. God, Dabi had thought this would just be one and done, but now he couldn’t seem to stop. It was as if he’d opened some metaphorical floodgates in his sinuses just by twisting his nose studs a bit, and released sneeze after terribly violent sneeze. It would be infinitely easier to deal with without his overly enthusiastic witness, that was for certain. He couldn’t say it wasn’t at least a little endearing, though, in some bizarre way. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sneeze this much before,” observed Hawks, in such a tone that made the statement sound like it was some earth shattering discovery (It wasn’t. Dabi was eternally thankful that Hawks had never bore witness to the explosive fits he got when cats were part of the equation).

From behind the hand scrubbing at his still-burning nose, Dabi raised an eyebrow. “Right…?” he said slowly, “Is that supposed to h-hah–!” This was getting ridiculous. He pinched his nose tightly, brows furrowed and eyes nearly shut. Absolutely not. “There’s no point holding it in now that I’m awake, you know,” Hawks said, a mildly teasing tone creeping into his voice. “Just wanna get a full f-fucking… hhuh– sentence out-! hh’ehHDSZZHhew! h-hhH’RSCHhh’uh!” “Bless you, bless you,” Hawks moved closer towards Dabi, evidently starting to feel drowsy again after having been out of bed, judging by the way he rubbed lazily at his eyes with one hand. “What were you gonna say?” “What?” “Before you sneezed again. What were you gonna say?” Dabi averted his eyes. “I don’t remember.” Hawks snickered quietly. “S’okay… you gonna come back to bed? I’m getting cold,” he said, his head now resting on Dabi’s arm. “Not your personal heater,” was the response, punctuated with an irritated sniffle. Hawks shook his head. “Whatever.”

“Even so, I don’t think you’d really want, well…” Dabi gestured vaguely at his face. He didn’t particularly want to say it out loud. “I don’t mind,” the hero replied softly, “I just want you to get some sleep. Besides, the pink nose is a cute look on you.” He added the last part with a wink, and it earned him a rather affronted scoff and a flick to the forehead. “Fine, let me just–” Dabi pulled a couple of tissues from the box and blew his nose with some force. It seemed to shift something high in his sinuses, which of course triggered a sneeze. The floodgates really had opened. “hh’hehHDDSHHhiew! Jesus Christ, can’t catch a break…” Hawks hummed. “Bless you,” he mumbled again, before starting to lead Dabi out of the bathroom and back to their bed. He paused, however, halfway to the door, and turned around. With a nod towards the tissue box on the counter, he said, “You’d better bring those with you.”

[skazoo]

still do.

↳ choi jongho x f!reader

he couldn't stop loving you, even if he tried. and he did try for some time. it just didn't work.

length. 3.7k

genre. exes (and friends) to lovers, fluff, crack and a sprinkle of inevitable angst (i'm sorry).

warnings/tags. language, mention of death, mention of illness of a loved one, implied depression, .

networks. @kflixnet k-labels

notes. hello with another "this was supposed to be just teeth rotting fluff but somehow turned a little depressing and angsty on its own, i swear i didn't touch anything" do we see a pattern here? bc i do. i offer this lil jongho fic after sm time of absolutely nothing but i've finished my exams literally the other day, (DURING PRIDE MONTH!?!?? unacceptable) hope you like it!!

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

it’s a well-known fact —to your friend group, to the employees of the cafè on the way to your apartment, to the old lady that sells flowers at the corner of the big building you work at— that choi jongho not only likes you but he’s irremediably and unequivocally in love with you.

and that is still not right because jongho doesn’t just love you, no, that would be too obvious, too easy. he still loves you. 

if he goes back enough in his memories, jongho could say he’s always loved you.

he’s never been one to believe in love at first sight so when wooyoung drunkenly introduced the two of you at his birthday party, and he found himself unable to breathe let alone speak a coherent sentence to you, he immediately panicked. was he having a heart attack? a stroke? he was healthy, an athlete! how could this be happening to him!? he even made his own doctor hate him with all the panicked questions he asked the poor man on the phone but apparently, all he needed to relatively calm down was wooyoung’s loud laugh as he told him that he simply had a crush on you.

did he have a crush on you? 

you, with your beautiful smile and melodic laugh and sparkling eyes and– okay, yeah. he did have a crush on you but who wouldn’t!?

strong argument indeed, he thought.

that fateful night was only the start of a happiness he didn’t know he was able to experience.

you became friends, then best friends, then something more and then you were kissing, sleeping, and cuddling in bed together, going on cute little dates, and showing more PDA jongho ever imagined doing. 

he thought you were happy with him. navigating life with the same confused curiosity all young adults seem to innately possess.

then something happened that he couldn’t have ever predicted. and not because he wasn’t paying attention to you or because he was slacking off with his boyfriend duties, no. it came as a complete shock to everyone —you included, in a sense— because the signs just weren’t there. 

out of the blue, without notice, you broke up with him. after a year and for reasons that are still beyond his comprehension.

questions thundered into his mind asking why you had come to the heartbreaking decision, why you had sent him a ‘we need to talk’ text at 2am in the morning, and why he’d later found you at the front door of his apartment with tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes, soft whimpers vaguely sounding like ‘sorry’ and ‘it’s not your fault’. 

if he thinks back to that night, jongho gets chills from how scared he was; holding your body to his chest, not knowing what to do or what to say, not knowing who hurt you or why you were hurting.

when he thinks back to that night —something he finds himself doing more often than his heart can take— jongho clearly remembers the silent promise he repeated in his head at least a thousand times after you went back to your apartment. a promise he’s set on keeping.

and it’s for that very promise that he now sits in the crowded cafe downtown, drinking an overrated caramel macchiato and hiding behind a book he has no interest in.

at least it’s what he tells himself. that he came to the same coffee shop you told him you’d be meeting your date at because that’s what friends do. he tells himself he’s wearing a mask and sunglasses inside because he can and will love you platonically if that’s what you need or want. jongho tells himself a lot of things and he hopes he’s strong enough to believe in them in a way that will make them reality sooner or later.

but it’s not like two booths away from him you’re faring any better.

are people outside your friend group really this boring and uninteresting? have men always been this arrogant and full of themselves? was your current ex-boyfriend the exception that proves the incredibly unfair rule? 

when you met jongho you knew you were lucky. hot college athlete with sarcasm to match yours and a badly concealed heart of pure gold? you knew you hit the jackpot. but you weren’t ready to realize that he really was one in a million men that actually put in the effort to go beyond the bare minimum.

why is it, though? 

the question threatens to break loose all the pent-up frustration this date is generously providing you with and you opt to ignore it and hide it in the back of your mind for another occasion. one that includes cheap wine, pizza, and an equally bewildered yunjin sitting on your couch with funny socks and mouth full.

for now, you only limit yourself to throwing a fake smile at the obnoxious man sitting in front of you who’s spent the entirety of this heinous date talking exclusively about himself and his crypto-currency business. 

he’s finishing what you think is a long rant about the stock market when he moves to get up.

you think you’re finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel but he just lets out an annoying chuckle and looks at you with his small and pig-like patronizing eyes. “don’t worry, love. i’m not leaving you i’m just going to ‘powder my nose’, how you girlies say.” he winks and you resist the urge to gag at how… slimy he looks and feels.

as soon as he’s out of sight you let yourself slump on the small table, groaning a bit as you do so.

what were you even thinking? you tell yourself that today is going to be a well-suffered lesson for your future self: no dates with people that quote elon musk as if he’s some kind of greek philosopher.

your hands reach for the phone in your bag on their own. the last message you received was a sarcastic ‘have fun’ from wooyoung in the group chat but other than that everything is quiet, seemingly wanting to punish you for going against your friends’ advice to bail on the guy as soon as you saw him treat the barista like shit.

under the group chat, jongho’s name glares at you. 

you would be lying if you said out loud that this date didn’t have the sole purpose of distracting you from the claustrophobic guilt you’re feeling lately. 

jongho had never really cried in front of you but you swear if you could you’d erase the image of his damp eyes looking at you with confusion on that ugly night. and if you have to be honest you’d erase the encouraging but strained smiles he gives you now that you’re back at being friends too, because they don’t do anything but make you feel a shittier person than you already think you are. but maybe you deserve it. maybe this is finally going to be the occasion in which you understand that your actions have consequences.

your fingers work quicker than your brain can catch up, and before you realize it, you open again the conversation with jongho that ended before you went out and start typing.

> you: wyd?

> jjong: you’re on a date

> jjong: focus

> you: what is this an exam?

> you: nevermind this was a bad idea…

> jjong: texting me or the date?

> you: shut up

> you: the date 

> jjong: aw i’m sorry i could have told you that like,, an hour ago

> jjong: oh wait 

> jjong: i did!

another groan leaves your lips, only this time laced with a small chuckle at his antics. you mark the message as seen and throw your phone back into the bag. 

you hope other people can't see how much you miss him.

while you’re too focused on burning holes in the bathroom door from how hard you’re staring at it, dreading the moment it will open to reveal your current problem, in the loud noise of the cafe you don’t hear the heavy stomps of someone approaching you from behind. 

only when you feel two warm hands plant themselves on your shoulders and you hear a familiar voice muttering to itself something that sounds like ‘found you’, you’re forced out of your angry trance state and you’re asked to quickly choose between either your fight or flight instincts. you throw a blind punch and the person creeping up on you folds into two.

but that’s on him because who creeps on someone sitting alone at a table and touches them without making themselves known? what happened to ‘hello, what a coincidence to see you here’? what happened to manners?

you snap your head to the figure behind you and you let your panic subside but your annoyance rises.

“how– what are you doing here!?” your words come out in a hiss that makes the old couple sitting in the booth behind you turn around and look at you with judgy eyes but that doesn’t affect jongho in the slightest.

“saving you? duh.”

“who asked you that?!”

“what– Y/N, you texted me even before you met the guy, may i add. and the message said: ‘please end my suffering.’ in my book that’s a cry for help!”

he’s right but you let out an affronted huff anyway. arms crossed and lips in a pout you know is childish. “whatever.”

you feel him staring at you with a raised eyebrow and a smug smirk that you, oh so badly want to wipe off his face. 

“what?” you spat. your tone more embarrassed than you’d like to let on.

“what, what?”

“what the fuck are you smiling for?”

he throws his arms in the air exasperatedly. “am i not allowed to be happy now?”

“of course you are, it’s just… you being happy,” you air-quote to punctuate your suspicions on his current joyous disposition. “usually means wooyoung fell or someone got hurt.”

he laughs. “do you think so lowly of me, Y/N?”

“shut up.” the napkin you’ve been fidgeting with because of the irrational panic rising in your guts is now messily crumpled on the table and you groan at the whole situation. head in your hands and eyes closed. you’re so bad at this.

what happened to moving on? what happened to leaving jongho alone because he doesn’t deserve someone treating him like shit? you broke up with him supposedly to save him, but, not even three months in, and now that your mind is clearer you think it’s okay to want him back? to feel full again every time you talk about the things you did together and bask in the silence that follows with a warm knowing smile? you think it’s good to let your eyes wander to his face when you know he’s not looking, falling in love all over again? to feel your face involuntary stretch into a smile every time you spot him waiting for you outside work?

whatever your fucking problem is, you’re scared that you’ll come to find out its only solution is the person you fought so hard to push away. because what if you managed to scare away the last source of happiness you had? it’s selfish, you know, but it’s also the only thing you can think about as he looms over you; body so dangerously close to yours that you can catch the flowery perfume he always wears.

you think he’s speaking to you because his big hand is outstretched in your direction and his eyes are looking at you expectantly, with a veiled urgency.

“sorry, what?”

“i said get up and let’s go.”

“go where exactly?”

he rolls his eyes and you keep to yourself the striking resemblance he has with a spoiled child right at this moment.

“c’mon, we’re living this tinder nightmare here.”

“oh, are we?” you ask equal parts amused and curious of where this little skit of his is going.

when his deadpan expression doesn’t shift into one of his gummy smiles at your slightly annoying antics you know something impulsive and possibly embarrassing is about to happen and you know you will be the only person who will have any sort of unnecessary remorse out of the two of you.

your hands fly to your parted mouth and you hiss at him again. “are you serious!?”

he smiles.

“jongho, no.”

jongho yes, the mischievous look he throws you seems to proudly announce. 

he checks the toilet door one last time before gently grabbing your arm and not-so-gently yanking you out of the booth. a surprised squeal leaves your mouth but not a word of protest is heard from you.

“oh my god, i’m really doing this.”

his eyes are set on the door and he speaks without looking at you. “doing what?” 

“leaving someone like that while they’re in the bathroom! that’s so… i don’t know jjong, that’s so rude!”

you see his shoulder shake and you know if he were to face you right now you’d see one of his shit-eating grins. what you can’t imagine is the softness in his eyes as you call him with your nickname for him. he missed it. he misses you. painfully, completely, constantly.

his wide strides are followed by your frantic steps as he maneuvers the two of you out of the door and into the busy downtown street.

“so what? do you wanna go back in there and risk being bored to death by a guy that’s not even a quarter of what you deserve?”

“wha– no! i just–”

“then why should you feel sorry for that sad excuse of a date, uh? like, really, he took you to the most overrated place he could think of, Y/N. he didn’t even know you don’t like coffee!”

you chuckle at the frown of deep offense that blooms on his face. his lips in an affronted pout. “but that’s what the date is for, jjong. he couldn’t have possibly known.”

he stops in his tracks when he’s far away enough from the crowd in line waiting to be granted entrance to the place you just left. 

“i do, though.” an imperceptible strain to his voice as his eyes search yours in a way that’s almost desperate. “i know you don’t like coffee and that you like to sleep on the right side of the bed and that you just have to sing that ridiculous song to tie your shoes because otherwise, for some inexplicable reason i still have to understand, you can’t.”

has the world around you stopped? your ears are ringing from the deafening silence and you feel like everyone around you has stopped breathing and is waiting for you to say something to the boy in front of you who stares you down in determined distress.

“i know you, Y/N.”

you know he deserves an explanation. him more than anyone in your life. him more than yourself, even. jongho with his proverbial patience that let you cry and consoled you the whole night even after you’d told him you were breaking up with him. jongho that didn’t push or torment you with questions the days after. jongho who accepted —maybe in pure and raw self-preservation— to go back to being just friends, with tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips because that’s what you’d told him you needed at that moment. his kindness that, more often than not, you’re convinced you don’t deserve.

“i know.” you close on yourself, your arms coming to hug you tight so that he can’t see the cracks that constantly try to spread over your skin. “i know you do.” an imperceptible whisper that threatens to drown in the buzz of the busy city around you.

“then why?” his eyes are pleading and his voice is quiet when he speaks again. 

“i know i should give you time and i know you’ll tell me one day but please–” he gulps down a lump that you know he’s had for at least three months. one of worry, confusion, and guilt. one you know you gave him.

“–please, give me something. anything.”

silence.

“Y/N, please say someth–”

“my mother was sick, jongho. she still is.” the line you’ve dreaded crossing for so long is no longer a line. the wall that’s been standing in between you and everyone else now has a hole in it. 

“i was out of my mind just from the news of her condition, i– i wasn’t well mentally and physically just from that and i saw time slip through my fingers, felt every single second like a punch to the guts. i threw away all the clocks in my mother’s house, i started sleeping on the floor outside her bedroom, i– the week i told you i was busy with deadlines, we were still together, remember?” he nods, small but it’s there.

 “i spent those days obsessing over something that was not yet real. my brother had to slip me sleeping pills to let me close my eyes for even a second.” your voice cracks because the guilt you get from just looking at jongho always has to be added to the guilt you feel when seonghwa kindly asks you how you’re doing lately.

“i-i was a mess just from that and i didn’t want you to be with me when what i was scared of was going to finally become a reality. i didn’t want you to see me like that because i didn’t think it was what you deserved. and you may be unable to understand and yell at me that it had to be your choice and not mine but i still don’t think that what i did was wrong, i’m sorry.”

the apology floats in the air between you. it’s not articulate or rich but it’s the only one you can get out at the moment.

“my psychologist says– he says i’m doing better now. we agree that the worst is over but there’s this…  unknown that hangs over my head and every second that passes i don’t know if this guillotine will cut my head off or miss me by a hair.”

he just looks at you with that unreadable expression that scares you.

“i didn’t– i don’t want to go back to when the worst wasn’t over and i’m scared that if i give myself back to you i will take you down with me one way or the other.”

you don’t know what you expect him to say or do after you just vomited everything you’re constantly trying to keep hidden, on him, but his loud silence is starting to feel too heavy, unsettling.

he doesn’t feel present, his eyes unfocused and unblinking. 

he shakes his head as if to wake up from a trance and looks at you with eyes too full of love. no pity in them and you want to thank him for it.

“ba– Y/N why didn’t you tell me?”

the simple question throws you off. 

why did you do the things you did? 

why does anyone do things?

you want to cry and tell him that not everything has an explanation. not a logical one anyways.

“i don’t know, okay! i wasn’t sure how you felt! god, i didn’t know how i felt and–”

“how could i have ever felt!? we were together for more than a year, Y/N. i loved you. i still do.”

“w-what?”

he lets out a chuckle that is not mocking or mean or condescending, not one you would’ve expected from anyone else. it’s kind and soft and a little bit amused, much to your irritation.  “do you find it surprising?” 

you open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. 

“i am in love with you, have been since the moment i saw you at that stupid party and when you told me you had to break up with me i just– Y/N, i couldn’t let you go or stop loving you, even if i tried. and believe me, i did try for some time, but it just didn’t work.” 

with tears clouding your vision you’re surprised you manage to find the time or strength to tease him. “you tried?”

and apparently, it is those two words that make him break out of the containment chamber he’s forcing himself to be trapped in. he smashes through the protective glass in true jongho fashion. a well-placed punch and the chains that kept him away from you thinking that’s what you needed, dissolve into thin air as he closes the distance, messily rushing to you and caging you in a desperate hug that steals the air from your lungs. 

you feel his hands claw at the back of your shirt and it’s the heartbreaking and deep affection that allows you to accept that you’re not difficult and you will not be. not to him, not to the people that love you.

he buries his nose in your hair, breathing you in like he wants to absorb you forever, then everything that happens next goes naturally, smoothly, following a line that was always supposed to be the one and only.

it fits perfectly. when you kiss and it's like the universe, your friend group, the employees of the cafè on the way to your apartment, the old lady that sells flowers at the corner of the big building you work at, knew it was meant to be.

you both stand with your eyes closed, embracing each other.

he wants to be a person who deserves you and whom you deserve. jongho loves you and he wants to be there, picking up your pieces, putting you together like a puzzle, taking his time. 

you sniff, looking up at him with what you hope looks like a soft expression and not some sort of a pained smile. “hi.”

“hey.” he smiles back, thumbs caressing away stray tears.

“you know that i saw you sitting there the second i stepped foot into the coffee shop. 

“you did not.”

“you were reading the book upside-down.”

he blushes but his arms tightens around you.

“i was not.”

[secretmellowblog]

I just listened to Heathers for the first time and my first coherent response to it (aka the reason it had me crying at 2am) was that the media circuses around the deaths of the high school students reminded me so strongly about how the U.S media covers mass shootings at schools. There's always widespread coverage of all the gory details of the tragedy followed by platitudes about "mental health" and "bullying" and vague promises of "making the world better" in some nebulous way-- all while praising the dead children for their "sacrifice." In Heathers, most of the people spreading these kinds of empty platitudes are the adults. The adults don't protect the children when they're alive and only acknowledge them when they're dead. And then the adults dehumanize the dead children and treat them as props-- as pathetic angels who sacrificed their lives to teach them saccharine generic moral lessons.

So there's no acknowledgement that the victims never wanted to be "sacrifices"-- and no one actually attempts to address the real reasons the deaths happened, or make any concrete changes that will prevent similar tragedies in the future. It's all hollow and the empty platitudes aren't an attempt to effect change but an attempt to maintain the status quo. The dead kids are all made into "necessary sacrifices that make us reflect on the value of life <3 and we need to talk more about mental health and bullying and being nice <333 " because it's easier to retroactively make children into martyrs than it is to accept that all the deaths could've been prevented. J.D.'s rage-induced decision at the end of the musical is to massacre the entire school, because he notices that adult society only cares about 'protecting' schoolkids when they're dead and they can talk about how their deaths "Really Teach Them Lessons." But JD's plan would have failed even if he had "succeeded," because adult society wouldn't care about the death of an entire school any more than it cared about the death of one girl. If he'd succeeded the result would've been....mass death, media coverage, empty hollow platitudes, adults ranting on about how "they've Really Learned Something," and then no meaningful change. This is just my first knee-jerk reaction to the musical but yeah. Whatever its flaws, I really think it captures something of the Rage you feel as a kid when you see adults sanctimoniously going on about how "the Deaths of Children In Schools Have Taught Us Important Lessons" while refusing to actually do things that would protect the still-living children around them.

[oloreaa]

i can't sit back & not saying anything anymore. as a poc, blm and any other movement will always be important. idk if it came out of nowhere, it means no one is talking about it. my ppl r getting killed just for being their fucking skin color. i think what that person meant is that so much attention is spent on drama when it could be directed towards something positive. either way it was brought up so pls fucking talk about it. we're not a damn trend we're real human beings

I understand this, and as a person of colour, I share your frustrations. At the same time, I don't fully understand why you raise your concern at me, a person living an ocean away from the US, someone who is running a fandom blog on tumblr. My following is not big enough to have any kind of sway and I doubt that I can convince someone about something that should??? Already be supported by everyone.

I'm going to be honest in saying that this is out of my depth, and I know that there are far more eloquent and better informed people than I am on this issue. I don't really know what you want me to do, since everything started from a meme with an unexpected impact. My blog is primarily my own space where I post my own little fics as an escape from reality, and I'm the first to tell you that I'm not informed enough to turn this into a political blog.

Regardless, I have and I will continue to share resources and donation posts, but I don't think that I, a non-black person living outside the US, am the best person to turn to. I am not qualified to make posts about this when I have no direct relation to it, but I will do my best to boost the experiences of people who actually have.

I apologise if I used any terms wrong or phrased anything in a sensitive manner in the past. Thank you for your input and I hope you have a nice day.

[bwoahtastic]

I'm sorry i got carried away

MORE ANGST FOR THE ADOPTION AU!!

TW for character's thoughts of d*ath and self depricating thoughts

When Max is over at GP's and then Charles just manages to tell Lewis through tears that no one knows where Max is and Lewis gets a full blown panic attack and he's alone so he just feels like his entire world is crumbling

Lewis has to hang up the phone so that he doesn't worry Charles or Seb and he just spirals so hard and then he can barely think straight so he grabs his car keys and whatever blankets he has with Max's scent on it

He drives first to the paddock because he thinks Max is there cause it smells a little familiar

He can't find Max but he finds one of Max's stuffed toys and he holds it so gently as if one wrong move could tear it apart

He heads back to his car and he drives aimlessly around, getting more and more desolate as each person he goes to says they dont know where Max is and they're trying to find him too

(Lewis avoids Seb's house because he doesn't wanna hurt Charles and if he sees Seb he might just completly snap and shatter permanently)

Lewis finally tries GP's house and by then he's just a wreck, mentally checked out and emotionally exhausted and he has glassy eyes and yeah okay so what if he's been crying for the past 5 hours and convincing himself that he's the worst parent ever and he should never be near kids again and that the rest of the pups are better off away from him

He parks the car and then checks his phone and it's 2am and his phone died hours ago but he doesn't care anymore because what's the point of anything if his pup is gone

He knocks on GP's door and it takes a minute but when GP answers and Lewis just says "Max?" and then GP looks shocked and concerned and Lewis blacks out but a second before that Lewis sees a wobbly outline of Max (because Lewis hasn't drank or eaten ever since he left his house and he's drained and he barely stopped panicking about 10 mins ago) and Lewis thinks that hey maybe i'm dead cause i saw my pup at least i got to see him before i go

Pllss Seb probably told Charls to be careful with telling Lewis but Charles knows Lewis is the only person who might love Max the same if not more as Charles does....

Lewis panicking so much and Seb tries to soothe him and keep him inside (just nnngg Lewis arriving there for lunch and seeing Charles cry and he instantly knows its about his Maxy...) but Lewis begs to go and leaves to drive around to find his pup.

Lewis with Max's blanket and then his plushie on his lap, so scared and guilty as he tries to find his baby, but no one knows where Max is....

Pls Lewis arriving qt GPs house at 2 in the morning, so tired it's a miracle he can still drive and just barely functioning in general xos where as losing a mate can hurt; losing a pup is twice as bad and Lewis just hates himself so fucking much for ever hurting his pup and he thinks he isn't worthy anymore of being Max's dad and he will let someone else adopt Max if Max wants it but he jut wants to know Max is okay...

GP being startled when he opens the door cos Lewis is swaying on his feet and seems barely coherent, managing to choke out Max's name but seeing to struggle to focus. Max hearing or feeling Lewis is there and that smthn is wrong and he comes out of the guest room, whining loudly when he sees how sickly his papa looks and shuffling closer but unsure if he can touch Lewis...

Lewis passing out then and GP manages to get him into the guest room when Max tells him that's better than the couch in the living room. Maxy being a bit awkward but building a nest around Lewis as best he can and whining whn he sees Lewis was clutching one of Max's blankets and plushies and he just snuggles up with his papa, not completely okay yet but finally getting there...

Lewis waking up with Maxy snuggled against his chest and he thinks it can't be real snd that he is dreaming, until Maxy whines softly and snuggles evn closer 😭😭

[edelwoodsouls]

can you explain why you think Mister Impossible is the perfect title? i just went through the tag and saw your post and I was like what did i miss?

hey yeah of course!

okay so bear in mind that this was not a coherent thought cos it was 2am and ms stiefvater had just shot me point blank in the head

but it IS the perfect title. because it fits so many different characters in the book, and also encapsulates the key struggle that everyone is going through.

at first you think its gotta be bryde, because he's the suave, powerful, confident hero who's going to lead the dreamers to salvation. he's impossible because he's everything they've ever wanted, and because of his general control/power over situations.

but then you get to the reveal and oh! if bryde is impossible then what the fuck does that make ronan. the king of impossibility, the boy who can dream anything and control nothing but is, by the mundane standard, utterly impossible.

you could also say that ronan thinks he is impossible to love.

adam isn't in this book much, but he does a lot in the periphery. he's impossible because he loves ronan so damn much, something that ronan doesn't think possible, especially at the end of the book. his powers make him impossible, and his unknowability too.

matthew, of course, is impossible simply by being a living dream.

but then you have declan! this man - still a boy, really - who is totally impossible because how can someone be so cookie cutter boring and yet completely intrriguing.

which leads me onto the next point - this whole book is about impossiblities. about dichotomies: how the characters perceive themselves, and how others perceive them. who they think they are, and who they want to be.

matthew perceives himself as unreal, thinks everyone else does to, but they don't. matthew thinks he is nothing more than a dream, and wants nothing more than to be real, to feel real, to be free.

declan perceives himself as the adult, the boring one who can keep his family safe by staying in the shadows- but jordan makes quick work of that grey armour and reveals the boy who loves the enigma he's made himself, who has depth and colour beneath. declan thinks he is straight laced, begins the book thinking he wants to be straight laced, but he absolutely doesn't.

adam is an interesting one, because he perceives himself as nothing at all, as a chameleon with shifting faces which others interpret as he wants them too. even ronan falls for it, which is what makes him all the more impossible. he contains multitudes, and he likes it that way- but he wants some form of stability, and ronan, and the world - and that might be impossible, too.

liliana and carmen are impossible in how they define themselves. liliana, the time bending exploding woman who knew all along that the woman in front of her was the love of her life. carmen, the serial killer's sister, actually developing a functioning moral compass and getting positive character growth, unlike the decay and conflict of most of the characters in this book.

i won't talk about jordan because she's possibly the only mentally stable character in this book (good for her! she had her crisis last book and she deserves her growth) but hennessy. who has lived with this impossible, awful thing in her head all this time. who is impossible, but never thought of herself that way because she's been so goddamn tired this whole time. she perceives herself first as uncovering a new, beautiful power, then suddenly as this broken, useless thing. she thinks she must be unloveable and hated, so she goes out of her way to try and make people treat her how she thinks they should.

we don't really get any of bryde's psychology - perhaps we'll get more insight in the final book.

and that leaves ronan. who is an enigma even to himself, who can't quite find his way back to his own goals, own motives. he wants change, wants better, but the world is so much, so impossible. ronan is the ultimate bundle of dichotomies wrapped in a trenchcoat. he perceives himself as always wrong, abandoned, unloved, but also always right, and explosively reactive when challenged. he thinks he's unloveable, but has all these people terrified for him. he wants to save the world; now he's the thing that destroys it. he is, possibly, the most powerful being in the entire world. how impossible is that, a teenage farmboy having all that inside their head? and how utterly, impossibly isolating?

everything about everything is impossible when you look at the right angle. the magic is impossible, the characters believe so many things are impossible - love, safety, freedom. and ultimate, i think that "mr impossible" is ronan, because everything in these books revolves around him. because he creates the plot and the conflict of other characters and has some form of connection to every other key player. because he's the greywaren, whatever that means. because he created the hero and probably the villain, and just dreamt the fire to end the world. because he's the most powerful dreamer we know of and created two of the other main characters out of his own damn head.

but impossible is the key word baked into the very fabric of this book, so it's only right it should be on the cover.

[dog-teeth]

Hi! I love your comics but this is actually somehow art history related, but also imposter syndrome. I just took a massive test involving analysis of images, that I had no idea how to answer. I might have analyzed them and formed my own conclusions and connections instead of repeating someone else’s but I’m terrified I was just bs-ing the whole thing. Does this ever happen to you or do you have any advice?

hi king/queen im an art history major and i can confirm that a lot of the time writing about art history is complete bullshit, i had to write a bunch of various visual analyses at the end of this semester and a lot of it was vague bullshit tbh. honestly? dont worry about it! its fine to bullshit stuff i promise. as long as u cite your sources / back up the claims you make, its Fine dude ive written so many. so . many . fucking pages of art history analyses that i thought have been largely bullshit its Okay. just chill my friend, have some faith in yourself, dont let imposter syndrome get to u.

a big part of art history writing is being able to look at an image you dont know about and write something about it. if your claims are reasonable and justifiable, youre fine. if you wrote something, even if it felt like u didnt know what to say, its fine. it can feel like bs and sometimes it is but my guess is youre being overly self conscious and you actually did alright.

i often go thru this when im writing esp on tests cuz it really does feel like im writing absolute bs sometimes BUT ive learned to have faith in myself, and you should too! even if its bullshit thats fine it really is. also, im sure youve gotten grades back for your writing in the class you had this test for, so you can use that as a reference for your ability. its a safe assumption that your grade/ability isnt too far off from how youve done in the rest of the class. just trust yourself. what i love about art history is you Can bullshit your way through writing if you vaguely know what youre doing.

but yeah its like 2am so this is really ranty but the point is you should trust yourself, if you feel imposter syndrome look at the grades u got for past similar assignments to contextualize ur abilities, and in the art history field you really have to bullshit stuff sometimes as a student and thats just how it is.

i went thru this when i took my midterms, i thought i didnt know anything and i would do terribly and everything i wrote was complete bullshit, but turns out i did pretty well on them. and i just took my finals a week and a half ago and once again im really worried its all bullshit and i did terribly BUT im trying not to freak out and im rationalizing the probability that i did fine on them bc i can look at my past grades to tell me im good at the type of writing i had to do even tho i do Not trust past ezra and all the bullshit they probably wrote during finals.

since youve already taken the test id suggest not worrying abt it as much as possible bc theres nothing u can do now, though im anxiously awaiting my grades thatll come back at the end of the month........

i might edit and add to this tomorrow when im coherent so check again on this response later ok?

[slayfics]

Just this.

Murdoc shows up drunk unexpected at your place. 

An Uber pulled up and parked by the curb of an apartment building, a drunk green bass player sat in the back seat staring out the window at the apartment taking it in. The building was seven stories tall. The fire escape that ran down the side was rusted and seemed it could collapse at any moment. The building was made of old dingy bricks some chipped, others completely missing. He looked from window to window observing the ones that had their lights on, watching the shapes in them, thinking that any of those shapes could be her. The shapes were hard to keep up with though. They seemed to blur into each other and make new shapes of their own. It wasn’t till this moment that Murdoc thought maybe he was too intoxicated to do this. He had been trying the past six months to find the right amount of intoxicated to come to her, but not too much where he might make a fool of himself. He was sure he had the right concoction tonight though, but then again maybe not. 

“Is this not the right place?” The Uber driver asked since Murdoc had not moved.

“This is it mate….” He said without moving, instead he continued to stare out the car window at the apartment. 

“You gonna get out or just admire it?”

“Right!” Murdoc said coming out of his trance “Well thanks for the hospitality.” He said sarcastically, and threw some bills in the front seat as he opened the door. He stumbled out of the car, onto the curb, and over to the wall of the building. He placed his hand too forcefully on the wall to catch his balance surly scraping his palm. Whatever he’d deal with that later. To procrastinate from messaging her he fumbled for his cigarettes in his leather jacket finding the small box quicker than he thought he would. He stuck the cigarette in between his lips then went back to his pocket to search for the lighter. Again he found it faster than what he intended to. 

Fuck. He knew the next step was to get his phone out, but he felt butterflies in his stomach, or maybe they were moths. He grabbed his phone from his pocket ignoring the anxious feeling festering in his stomach. The screen of his phone lit up with his finger print and he instantly felt like he was swimming in the bright light. He managed to get to his messenger app, but it would be a miracle to type anything coherent. He tried his best to type but the letters kept bouncing back and forth on the screen and he had to focus hard to keep up with them. He pressed send before he was able to second guess himself or proof read the message. He turned around to put his back against the wall and lean his head back. He wondered what he was he doing, what was he thinking? She wouldn’t want to see him. Why had he been hyping himself up to come here all these months?

You were sleeping soundly when your phone buzzed with a loud text tone, the screen illuminated the dark room. Pissed that you forgot to turn your phone on do not disturb you rolled over to ignore it. Shutting your eyes trying to quickly fall back to sleep you realized that that was the text tone you had set for Murdoc. You picked up your phone in disbelief and thought your eyes were messing with you. The text message read: “Hegy sweethemart, wht ru doinhg rizght now?” You quickly realized Murdoc must be drunk texting you. You stared at you phone debating if you wanted to respond or not. Before you could decide your ringtone went off, and the old contact picture you set of Murdoc cutting an onion lit up on your phone. You hesitated but answered. 

“Hello?”

“Heyyyyy honey what are you *hiccup* what are you doing?” He asked slurring his words and hiccuping in between.

“Well its 2am on a Thursday so I’m sleeping.” You were a little annoyed that he chose to call you now of all times when he should know you have to be up early for work. 

“Thats dreadfully boring isn’t it?” Murdoc said with a smile on his face. He closed his eyes in an attempt to stop the world from spinning, but it didn’t work. He felt as though he was doing backflips but his head was resting solidly on the brick wall. 

“Well what are you up to that’s so interesting Murdoc?” You asked as you swung your legs off the bed and stood up to go grab a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Oh you know how it goes lovely. I just can’t sleep well at night, so I’m here and there.” He mumbled turning to his side so his shoulder was resting against the wall now. He was trying to regain control of his body but even this simple movement made his stomach turn. He dared to open his eyes and saw the street split in two, it blurred together then split back again.

Walking to the kitchen you could smell the faint hint of a cigarette coming from your opened window. This caught your attention and caused you to walk over to the window. You peered out side and down toward the street. There was a man leaning against the wall, holding a cigarette, and talking on a phone. He was wearing a leather jacket and what appeared to be cuban heel boots. 

“Where are you Murdoc?” You asked.

“Oh just outside a pub. I was thinking about you and wanted to check up on you.” He said bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. 

“A pub?”

“Yeah yeah, but it’s not too far from your place if well.. you know, if you wanted some company.” He said. You saw the man slip from the wall and stumble quickly to catch his balance again. You were sure now that this must be Murdoc. He was calling you from outside your apartment. It’s been awhile since you saw him. You wondered if you were just on a list of girls he called when he got drunk and he finally got around back to you. 

“You know I work tomorrow.” You said.

“Oh fuck that’s right tomorrow is your early day isn’t it?” You saw him put his face in his hand. “Hey look.. would you mind if I came over anyway I ju- *hiccup*” It was then you realized he must be in a bad headspace. If he really was outside just to fuck he’d be discouraged by your lack of enthusiasm, which he could surly get from some other girl. 

“WHY DON’T YOU COME UP THEN!” You yelled out the window. Murdoc jumped startled by your yell. He looked up to see you in the window and a grin quickly spread across his face. “You can walk up the stairs can’t you drunk old man?” You asked in the phone.

“For you, of course I can.” He smiled up at you from the ground floor.

“It’s apartment D22.” 

“Yeah I remember.” He said as he stumbled to the entrance of the building and hung up the phone. He got up the stairs and knocked on the door quicker than you thought he would be able to given the state he was in. You opened the door and the smell of cigarettes instantly hit your nose. He was swaying a bit with a foolish smile on his face.

“Hi.” He simply said as you moved aside to let him walk in. 

“Hello.” You said with a hint of confusion in your voice. You expected him to come in and explain his behavior, or at the very least apologize for waking you up. He didn’t offer any explanations though he just stood there with that smile on his face. A moment passed before you realized he wasn’t going to say anything so you had to carry on the conversation. “You look like you could use some water.” You said and walked to the kitchen. Usually he would protest anyone who tried to give him water but he followed you into the kitchen dragging his hand across the wall for support. You reached in the cupboard, grabbed a glass, and poured him some water from the fridge door. You turned to him to discover him standing a bit too close and eyeing you intently. 

“Oh yeah you definitely need this.” You said handing him the glass. You inched away from him and sat up on the kitchen table across from him. He leaned against the fridge and sipped at the water. His eyes instantly lit up and he looked at the water as if you had handed him the secretes to the universe. “So you were at a pub?” You asked in attempts to start some type of conversation with him.

“I was, and you were sleeping. You work tomorrow?” He asked fixating on you now instead of the water in the glass.

“Yes I do. I have to be up at 5am.” You said. You expected him to say more, or hopefully explain why he came, but he just stared at you with that same smile. “You’re really drunk aren’t you Murdoc?” You laughed.

“I’m always drunk.” He said and gave you a wink. You laughed a little in hopes of diffusing the awkwardness you felt. You weren’t really sure how to navigate this situation, but you did have to get back to bed. Figuring Murdoc was past having a conversation in his state you decided maybe sleep would be best for both of you.

“Do you want to sleep with me?” You asked. Murdoc giggled like a little school boy.

“I have to work in a couple hours so too clarify I meant sleep NEXT to me you dirty old man.”

“Either way the answer is yes lovely.” He smiled. You hopped off of the kitchen table and began to walk in the direction of your room. “Hey.” He said grabbing your attention. You turned around to look at him. He had a different expression on his face now. His smile was replaced by a pained expression. His posture was different as well, his shoulders were slouched and no longer back with confidence. He walked over to you and stood a few inches in front of you swaying back and forth for a second before he abruptly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug. You knew for sure now that he was not ok, he must be going through something. You wrapped your arms around him and he rested his cheek on the top of your head. Being close to his chest you could hear his heart beating abnormally fast. As quickly as he hugged you he pulled away. “I think some sleep would be nice.” He said and smiled at you.

“Come on.” You said and lead him to your room.

Your bed was to the left of the door against the corner. It wasn’t very big, barley big enough for the both of you. He sat at the end of the bed and knelt down to take off his shoes, then his leather jacket and dropped them to floor. You laid back down under the covers where you were sleeping peacefully before on the right side of the bed. Murdoc laid down on top of the covers next to you. His head resting on the pillow he smiled at you with that same grin returning to his face. 

“You don’t want to come under the covers?” You asked.

“Hm should I?” He asked.

“Stop being weird.” You said as you pulled at the covers under him and he adjusted to come under them. He laid back down and continued to smile at you. 

“Hey are you ok Murdoc?” You asked, but he didn’t answer. He looked off in the distance then back at you as if he was thinking of what to say. You knew the answer though, he wasn’t ok. Wether he was going to tell you was another question though. You ran your hands through his hair in attempts to relax whatever thoughts must be racing through his head. You moved around the bangs that were stuck to his forehead from sweat which made you wonder what was he really doing before he came here. What he had been doing since the last time he saw you? More importantly was he taking care of himself? After you had given up on him ever acknowledging your question he finally answered.

“I am now.” He said. You pulled your hand back from his hair to rest it on the pillow beside you. “No love, don’t stop doing that.” He said. You laughed a little and began running your hand through his hair again. You can tell there was a lot he wasn’t saying, and most likely too much on his mind for him to even make sense of it. Or maybe he didn’t know the words to accurately describe what he was going through. 

“I’m glad you came.” You whispered, adjusting your voice volume so that maybe he would be lulled to sleep. 

“Of course you are.” He winked again and let out his signature laugh. You know him well enough to understand that humor has always been one of his defense mechanisms. A way he could dismiss whatever pain he was actually going through.

“I mean it Murdoc. I missed you, you know i’m always here for you. Even if it is just to wake me up in the middle of the night to sleep next to me.” You said and leaned over to kiss his nose then position back to your pillow. Murdoc didn’t say anything and the darkness in the room made it hard to tell his expression but you could vaguely see tears form in his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” You asked gently. A tear finally escaped and ran down his cheek.

“No.” He managed to say in a voice that didn’t sound like his at all. It was no longer full of cocky confidence but riddled with pain. “Can I just hold you?” he asked.

“Anytime you want.” You said. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in close to him. From this position you could hear that his heartbeat was beginning to slow down. “I don’t know what you need right now Murdoc but i’m here.”

“Just this.” He said.

[charliespring-old]

how did you find out that you were bi ace? im questioning my sexuality (i might im lesbian/bi) and it is a doozy...

oh it totally is!! youre super valid! i dont think i ever really had like a classic *bi awakening* because i havent crushed on very many people in my life at all (ace spectrum?? definitely) and all the people i have have been boys! but i kind of came to the realization a year or so ago that i really wouldn't mind being with someone who wasn’t a boy,, so though ive never dated anyone and am very picky with the people i crush on i realized i was very comfortable with the bisexual label :-) (ladies r absolutely LOVELY but im bi for boys and non binary folks uwu) and it just kinda feels right! at least right now!! it might change in the future but for now its what im happy with and so im going with it hehe

as for ace i literally came out like,, two weeks ago? to my best friend and online! that one was also kinda just “oh man, i really like this label for myself”, though in this case it was more like oh im absolutely uncomfy with the idea of sex and kissing etc and it was kind of right in front of me this whole time & i just took a super long time to realize that i really do fall under the ace category hahaha

anyway i might be a little different to some because i am super nonchalant about what labels i use for myself and im not sure how u personally feel but id say like try some out!! just vibe!! because youre so valid no matter what :-) sometimes i still feel like im questioning and ppl often tell me its so absolutely chill and you dont ever have to stick with anything if you dont want!! so yeah 💖💖💖 i wish u the most luck and i hope this was even a little coherent bc its 2am and im depressed and sleep deprived jkhgfjsdhgj

[cherry-holland]

Baila Conmigo - h.o.

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Latina!reader

Warnings: def some heavy steaminess in this, 100% smut with a hint of fluff

A/n: hello friends!!! It’s currently nearly 2am, and bc I have not yet written Dmitri Island yet, I figured this spicy one shot will do the trick in its place 🤗 this concept came about thanks to @hazshauntedbelle (who also was so damn kind enough to make this moodboard 🥺) and I discussing about how hot it would be to see Haz with a Latina reader! Don’t worry though - y’all can still imagine it to be yourself! I tried to make it easy to fit so that way all can enjoy! Song is “Baila Conmigo” by Jennifer Lopez, bc I love her so damn much 🤗

“Baby, there’s this club that’s in town, ya wanna see it?” You shout to your boyfriend, scrolling through your phone.

You and your boyfriend, Harrison, were on vacation in Puerto Rico for the week, and boy, did you both need it. With Harrison’s new show and your own demanding job, everything was starting to take a toll on the both of you. You were both itching to get out of rainy, gloomy London, and run to the sun and sand. Having family in Puerto Rico helped make the decision easier for you two, and within a week’s time you found yourselves on a flight to the island. You were posted up in your family’s guesthouse, far away from your family as they knew you and Harrison wanted your privacy.

“Sure, mi amor, where is it? What kind of club is it?” Harrison asked, peeking his head out of the master bathroom. He had just gotten out of the shower, so his sandy blonde curls were now darkened and matted on his forehead, water dripping down at a rapid pace.

“Um, it’s just down the street actually, and it’s...” you trailed off to scroll through the website, brows furrowed, “oh, mi vida, it’s a salsa club!”

Harrison’s eyes lit up as he stepped out of the bathroom, his bottom half covered by a white towel, his torso glistening post-shower. “Ooo, darling, let’s go for it! You know how I love salsa dancing.”

You saw Harrison’s eyebrows wiggle up as he sauntered his way over to you, arms wrapping around your waist. You couldn’t help the blush slowly trickle in on your tanned cheeks at his overall cheekiness. “Oh, papi, I know you do,” you replied as you snaked your arms around his neck, your red manicured finger slowly moving up and down.

Harrison groaned at the contact. “Babe, you know what that name does to me.”

“Hmm, don’t think I know, papi,” you joked, your eyebrows raising in feigned curiosity.

“Mami, you will learn now,” Harrison growled, pulling you in for a passionate, steamy kiss.

The kiss grew more needy after Harrison circled his tongue around your mouth, a moan escaping your lips. Your tongues wrestled for a bit until you both found a rhythm, hands knotting in hair and soft moans filling the room.

You pulled away after some time, desperate to get some air into your lungs. “Alright, mi vida, let’s get our asses to this club!” You shout, smacking his perky ass on your way to the closet.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” Harrison smirked, returning the favor as he smacked your full ass as he stood right besides you.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

You and Harrison arrived at the club, and needless to say, it was hot. From the music that was playing loudly on the speakers, to the dancers swaying close together sultrily on the dance floor, to the thick air of sex that engulfed you two as you walked in... it was like a little slice of paradise.

You shifted the red bodycon dress as you entered in the club, being careful of the high slit that dared to show more than what you were willing to in that moment. You turned to Harrison, who was wearing a light blue button-up with black tailored dress pants, and you couldn’t help but feel the heat start to form in your core. He left the first several buttons unbuttoned, leaving a sliver of his chest on display, and his curls were disheveled and extra sandy thanks to the weather. His skin was beautifully sun-kissed, and it made his icy blue eyes shine even brighter. You couldn’t wait to get him home, but first...

“You ready to show them how to salsa, mi vida?” You asked, tugging at his arm that you were clutching on.

“Oh yes, mi amor, let’s go,” Harrison purred as he led you two to the dance floor.

He turned you to face him as the next song played, taking hold of your hands as you started to sway your hips to the beat.

Imagínate

Tú y yo en la playa

La arena, el mar

El sonido de las olas

Recorriendo todo tu cuerpo

Bésame, Tócame

Y baila conmigo

You felt Harrison pull you closer, causing giggles to erupt from your chest as the music played, chests touching ever so softly as you both rolled your hips.

Vamo' a tocar

El cielo con las manos

Vamo' a olvidar

Esta noche todo lo malo

Vamo' a juntar la noche con el día

Vamo' a pegar tu boca con la mía

You pulled away, turning so your back was pressing into Harrison’s front, carefully grinding him as you kept on beat. You heard Harrison groan from behind you as he firmly placed his hands on your hips, and you definitely knew it was going to leave marks in the morning.

Imagínate conmigo en la arena

Yo besándote

Bajo la luna llena

Imagínate toda la locura

Que vamo' a sentir

Debajo de la cintura

(Vamo' a darle, darle)

Nos movemos con la ola

(Vamo' a darle, darle)

Tú estás solo, yo estoy sola

(Vamo' a darle, darle)

Nos movemos con el viento

(Vamo' a darle, darle)

Pero que rico lo siento

“Mami, you are absolutely killing me tonight,” Harrison whispered in your ear as he guided your hips to grind against his groin.

You moaned in response. “Oh, papi, that’s exactly what I was going for.”

You turned to face him, eyes wild with lust and desire, and brought your lips to his in a searing kiss, you tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth.

Harrison pulled you even closer, your nose touching his, and you felt his breath on your face as he groaned out, “Oh you’re gonna get it, mi amor.”

Pero que rico lo siento

Es como un fuego por dentro

La cabeza la estamos perdiendo

A las nubes ya estamos subiendo

Dale, dale, dale

Dale que dale más duro

Que la música rompa los muros

Que sola bailando me curo

Dale, Dale

You stumbled into the door of the guesthouse while you and Harrison were in the middle of an intense makeout, hands running all over each other’s bodies. Harrison slammed the door shut with his foot, and grabbed a hold of your ass, giving it a squeeze. You let out a whimper in response as Harrison’s hands trailed to your thighs, quite literally lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. Harrison led you to the bedroom as his wet mouth left bites and marks all over your tanned shoulder, moans filling the air.

Vamo' a tocar

El cielo con las manos

Vamo' a olvidar

Esta noche todo lo malo

Vamo' a juntar la noche con el día

Vamo' a pegar tu boca con la mía

Baila conmigo

“Oh, shit, Haz,” you moaned as he gently placed you on the bed, his kisses never stopping.

He slid off your dress with ease, and only stopped kissing your body to admire the lingerie you decided on today. It was a lacy, red strapless bra with matching panties, and he felt his already-right pants grow tighter in his crotch area. “Jesus, mami, is this all for me?”

“Fuck yeah, papi, it’s all for you baby,” you huffed out in response, biting your red-painted lips as he drunk in your appearance.

“Oh, the things you do to me, mi amor,” Harrison spoke as his hands made their way to unclasp your bra, morning at the sight of your breasts, hardened in arousal.

He immediately went and started leaving open mouthed kisses on top of your breasts, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. He then trailed down to your stomach, and you felt your body dip down at the soft touch. He stopped when he reached your underwear, slowly slipping them down off your legs. You lifted your hips up, and you felt his mouth go right back to your hipbone, his love bites becoming less soft and more rough.

You were a moaning mess under his touch, desperate for him to touch you where you needed him. “Harrison,” you whimpered, “please fuck me already, damn.”

Harrison looked up at you with a devilish smirk painted on his face. “Mi amor, before I do that I have to get you prepped and ready.”

He dipped back down to be in line with your core as he lifted your legs to be resting on his shoulders. You felt his hot breath ghost over your folds right before he started licking up and down. You moaned loudly at the contact, finally feeling some relief that you had been holding in for so long. You didn’t even care how loud you were or who heard you - at that point Harrison’s tongue lapping your core up like it was his last meal was all that mattered.

You felt Harrison’s mouth attach to your clit and his fingers pumping in and out of you, your moans and the sound of your slickness colliding with his fingers filling the air. It wasn’t long before you felt that tightness in your stomach unravel, causing you to come all over Harrison’s fingers.

“Mmm, Mami, you look so good when I make you come,” Harrison said in between him licking each individual finger free of your juices, “let’s make you come again.”

“Yes, papi. Fuck me, please,” you moaned, “fuck me with your cock.”

Harrison smiled at you as he went and grabbed a condom from his toiletries bag. “Oh yes, mi amor, don’t you worry. You’re gonna get fucked so good.”

Before you knew it, Harrison had rolled the condom on his hard cock, and was pushing through your folds, a very loud moan escaping both of your mouths. He let you get used to him before you nodded to continue. You immediately threw your head back, gasping and moaning at how hard and fast he was thrusting into you. You couldn’t even form a coherent sentence as you heard the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your wetness making sloshing noises against his dick.

“Look at you, mi princesa, taking my dick like a good girl,” Harrison grunted as he kept relentlessly pounding into you, “always look good taking my cock, mi amor.”

You clenched around his dick at his words, rolling your eyes in the back of your head as he hit your g-spot, causing you to see stars. “Oh, shit, Haz, I’m gonna come.”

“Go ahead, mami, come for me,” Harrison groaned, and you felt his dick twitch inside of you before his groans turned into booming moans and panting.

As soon as you heard his words, you felt that familiar band snap again as you reached your second climax that night, this one hitting harder than the first. You panted as your came down from your high, and you felt Harrison go soft inside of you. He pulled out, and a whimper escaped from both of your mouths at the loss of contact.

Harrison took a second to admire you before he walked away to dispose of the filled condom and wet a washcloth to help clean you up. He walked over to you and carefully ran the cool rag down your folds, another whimper leaving your mouth at the touch. “Shh, it’s okay, mi amor, I’ve got you,” he whispered, his free hand gently caressing your face.

You nodded slowly in response as he finished cleaning you up. He threw away the washcloth in the dirty hamper, and made his way over to you. He sauntered over to the bed and slid in, grabbing your waist and pulling you close. You snuggled up close to him, your bare body nestling right beside him. “Oh, Harrison, mi vida, te amo,” you sighed into his neck, placing a light kiss on the nape.

“Y/n, te amo siempre,” Harrison responded softly, kissing the top of your head as you two drifted off into a blissful sleep. You both falling asleep thankful for finding one another, and never wanting to forget moments like this. Moments that are so full of love and passion, and how you both will spend the rest of your lives giving and receiving all of it.

Imagínate

Ay bendito

Tú, yo

Imagínate

El sonido de las olas

Imagínate

Recorriendo todo tu cuerpo

Imagínate

Baila conmigo

Ay bendito

Tagging some mutuals bc who doesn’t love haz smut? 🤗 @hazmyheart @farfromhaz @osterfield-holland-andcompany @beautifullydisconnected @angelhaz11 @delicatetom

[welcometomy20s]

September 5th, 2020

This is a review of all the hourly music in Animal Crossing New Horizons.

6AM - Nice steady beat but that synth, that’s quite something. 7.5/10

7AM - It sounds like a John Mayer’s song, I guess that’s breakfast? 6.7/10

8AM - Little of rocking beat there. Little too funky for the time, but okay. 8.2/10

9AM - I don’t quite understand how this music works. But it’s not bad. 7.3/10

10AM - Good jazz-funk feel, feels like an improvised section. Light! 8.7/10

11AM - I acknowledge what they are trying, but I detest this kind of music. 5.4/10

12PM - I don’t have any feeling about this one or another. 6.0/10

1PM - This bass, what is this bass? Okay, I’ll play with this. 7.8/10

2PM - I think this track is a discarded track from Persona 5. Yeah. 6.7/10

3PM - Perfect song for its time, things are winding down. Get that last bit. 7.6/10

4PM - Now there’s just too much synth. It sullies the song. 5.8/10

5PM - Sounds like an end to a sci-fi noir. Not that it’s bad. 6.1/10

6PM - Why we’re in a different state completely. Wow, accordion! 7.1/10

7PM - This sounds so sad. It is just mocking the player at this point? 6.9/10

8PM - There’s a lot of motive behind this song. Lots of different things. 7.4/10

9PM - I kind of like the groove here. It’s a fun little ditty. 7.9/10

10PM - I couldn’t form a coherent thought for this piece. 7.5/10

11PM - There is a strange tension in this music. It’s that push and pull. 8.1/10

12AM - Seems like a great culmination of everything that happened. 7.7/10

1AM - This is a great late-night jam. I seriously love this. 8.9/10

2AM - This is unusually bright for the time. Is this supposed to be a lullaby? 6.3/10

3AM - This is the throw-it-in section, and I do love the arbitrariness. 7.9/10

4AM - Oh, that was pretty standard for a song. I didn’t notice. 7.3/10

5AM - This is such a great sunrise song. It’s so different from anything else. 8.4/10

And that’s it! This was on the back of the burner, so I’m glad I did this.

[crazy-little-cool-cat]

Gold Digger - Chapter 5 | Gwilym Lee x OFC

A/N: I am an idiot.

Warnings: The usual!

Word Count: ~2K

The Playlist (Updates Regularly)

Chapter List:  Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

"You've known this for how long?!" Gwilym was flabbergasted. Dumbfounded. Absolutely livid with all of his friends and his cousin. 

He invited Lizzie over for movie night with Ben and Annie, and it was all but ruined. Lizzie sat next to him on the sofa, shrinking into herself, wishing she'd stayed home. She told Shelly she felt like this will be a bad idea, but Shelly insisted. Lizzie started believing that she shouldn't listen to Shelly, ever again.

"A while." Ben shrugged and sipped his beer, bouncing his knee. 

"I tried to tell you..." Annie placed her hand on Ben's knee to still it. "You kept shutting me up every time." 

"I can't believe she didn't say anything!" Gwilym fumed. "Do you think -" "Mate, don't go there," Ben warned. 

"-They had an affair?" Gwilym ignored Ben. "Oh, my God. She cheated on me."  

"First of all, fuck you!" Annie hissed. "She would never do that. Jamie? Yes. He definitely cheated on... Uh... What's-her-face. Yes." 

"Lovely." Gwilym snarled. 

"But Clara would never even dream of doing that to you. She loves you." 

Ben's eyes darted over to Lizzie, who sat in complete silence. He could see her face fall in defeat at Annie's words, and he pinched Annie's side as a way of telling her off for hurting the poor girl. Annie quickly realized what she had said and felt mortified. 

"She doesn't love me." Gwilym shot back. "She loved me a long time ago." "Not that long..." Lizzie mumbled.

"Who else knows?" Gwilym was so caught up with himself, he didn't even hear Lizzie's soft voice. "Rami? Lucy? Joe?" 

"Well, the entire world knows." Annie sighed. "You were just so in denial..."  

"I can't believe this." Gwilym rested his elbows on his knees and planted his face in his hands. "Fucking Jamie." 

"Aye." Ben nodded solemnly. "But it's out now." 

"I was just there a couple-a-days ago!" Gwilym ranted. "And she said nothing!" 

"You were there?" Annie echoed. "There - where?" 

"Clara's." Gwilym clarified.

The room fell silent. 

"Why?" Ben was the first to speak. 

"She needed me." Gwil shrugged with a scoff. "I can't believe her."

"She needed you?" Annie asked. "What for?" 

"Doesn't matter." Gwil frowned. "Every time she texts or calls, I'm there for her, and she didn't have the decency to tell me about this." 

"I think I'm gonna go," Lizzie said after clearing her throat.

Gwil seemed to suddenly remember that Lizzie was there. His face flushed. 

"No, stay!" He held onto her wrist as she stood up. 

She looked down at him and smiled awkwardly. "It's getting late, I'm working tomorrow..." 

"I'll give you a lift!" Ben offered. 

"What? No, I can take the tube -"

"Nonsense." Ben waved her off and stood up. "I have to go pick up more beer, anyways. Come on."

____________________________________________________________

"You are an arse!" Annie seemed almost feral. "That poor girl!" 

Gwilym just shook his head in shock. Things had not gone as he had planned. Gwilym planned a fun, double-date (but without actually calling it that) with a woman he fancied and his best mate and his cousin. What he ended up with was a ferocious cousin, and his girl left, almost in tears, because he couldn't stop obsessing over his ex. 

"I know. I know." Gwilym felt deflated. "I don't know why I couldn't stop talking about Clara. God, I'm so cross with her!" 

"You're still going strong, I see." Annie rolled her eyes. "Gwilym, get over it. Clara moved on!" 

"No, you don't understand," Gwilym said. "I'm fine with the fact she moved on. What I'm not okay with is that -"

"It's Jamie she moved on to?" 

"If you let me finish a sentence." Gwil had a warning tone to his voice. "What I'm not okay with is that she didn't tell me." 

"Why would she?" Annie asked. "She's got you at her beck and call and Jamie to keep her bed warm at night. Perfect combination." 

"So, you knew!" Gwilym was stunned. 

"I knew she asked you to come over a few times after breaking up," Annie confirmed. "I had no idea you were there just a couple of days ago." 

"God, and she had just gotten back from that holiday!" 

"Gwil -"

"I fucking saw her tan!" 

"Gwilym -" 

"God, I'm so utterly stupid!"

"Yes." Annie nodded furiously. "And you have some pretty big damage control to do."

_____________________________________________________________

"So..." Ben drummed with his hands on the steering wheel. "That was awkward."  

"It's whatever," Lizzie said with a shaky voice and cleared her throat. "I'm just glad I got to hang out with you lot." 

"Aw, that's sweet." Ben turned and smiled at her. "Gwil isn't usually this dense, you know." 

"I know. Gwil was caught off guard." Lizzie bit the inside of her cheek. "T'was fine while it lasted." 

"Movie night or your friendship with Gwil?" Ben asked. 

"Yes." Lizzie sighed.

"Which one?" Ben looked perplexed. 

"Both?" _____________________________________________________________

Gwilym felt relieved when Ben walked through the door carrying bags full of beer. He sat on the sofa looking like a chided child, with Annie in front of him, towering over him and looking like smoke will come out of her ears if he uttered one more word. 

"Look, mate," Ben sat on the sofa next to him, "I get that you're upset, but this was just..." 

"Rude." Annie finished his sentence. 

"I know." Gwil rubbed at his bearded cheeks. "God, I'm an arse." 

"Yeah." Annie nodded. 

"We were just as shocked when we found out, you know," Ben revealed. Gwil turned to look at him. "Annie found some racy pictures on Clara's phone, and they weren't Clara's..." 

"Oh, God." Gwilym felt the color drain from his face. Jamie sent nudes to Clara. His Clara. "That horny bastard -" 

"Didn't do anything wrong." Annie interrupted him. "You were broken up. Although your texts with her begged to differ." 

"How do you know about the texts?" Gwilym exhaled in shock. "Did she show them to you?" 

"I was looking right over her shoulder on one of your sessions." Annie shrugged. "It doesn't matter. What matters is, she was just being Clara. Jamie was just being Jamie."

"What, so it's alright?" Gwilym scoffed. "Are you bloody joking?"  

"No, it's not alright. It's just... what it is."

"You fancy Lizzie, don't you?" Ben chimed in. 

"Uh, duh." Gwilym rolled his eyes. "You know that I do." 

"Then you shouldn't give a bloody shit about what Clara's doing. Or who." Ben shrugged. "And I don't want to be that bloke, but I think you've utterly shat on your chances with Lizzie with your little hissy fit earlier. She did not seem alright on the ride back to hers.”

____________________________________________________________

"You're usually so much smarter, man." Joe sounded disappointed with Gwilym as he finished telling him the story of the night's events. "I mean, I freaked out when I first found out about Clara and Jamie, too, but not to this extent." 

"I know." 

"Are you sure you're over her, buddy?" Joe asked just before a car horn went off next to him. "Like, really over her?" 

"Yes!" Gwilym almost groaned. "I'm sure! First Annie, then Ben, now you?" 

"Look, we have every reason to wonder!" Joe retorted. "You're acting like a scorned lover!" 

"I am not!" 

"Yes, you are," Joe said. "And I'm afraid Lizzie picked up on it. She ain't stupid, you know." 

"I know."

"You better hope and cross all your fingers and toes that she still wants to have you around after that scene you pulled on her," Joe remarked. "You really are Annie's cousin, aren't you?" 

"Oh, shove it," Gwilym chuckled. "I'm nowhere near as dramatic as her." 

"No, but you did manage to create a shitstorm." Joe countered. "Anyways, I gotta run, man. Fix this. I believe in you!" 

"Thanks, mate," Gwilym sighed. "Keep those fingers crossed for me!"

He hung up the call and opened up WhatsApp, clicking on his chat with Lizzie. It was time to make some repairs to what he hoped wasn't an utterly destroyed friendship.

'Sorry for being a knob.'

Gwilym stared at the text for a full hour after sending it and not getting any reply. He completely ignored Lizzie's existence, he had a massive fit over his ex while Lizzie was there, and he acted like an absolute fool. The fact that Lizzie hadn't replied at all made him pace around the apartment restlessly. It was near 2AM when Ben and Annie left. He figured Lizzie was probably sleeping by now - but he needed her to text back and make sure everything is alright. He waited for hours. Lizzie's reply came at 5AM. 

'Thanks.'

Sleep-deprived and nervous, Gwilym felt like his insides shattered. A one-word text was very unusual for Lizzie, especially when she wasn't actively teaching at the moment. She had just woken up. She never sent him one-worded texts no matter how knackered she was. He knew he messed up, big time. 

'Seriously. I was such a prick. I'm so sorry.'

'She's your ex. I get it.' 

Gwilym frowned as he looked down at the screen and tried to comprise a coherent sentence. 

'Point is, she's my ex. I shouldn't have reacted that way.'

'You have history.'

'That, we do. I'm still incredibly sorry. You have no idea.'

He hoped for a reply but knew Lizzie was busy preparing for the day and decided not to push his luck. Plugging his phone in its' charger, he sat down on his bed with a grunt. He placed the phone on the nightstand and laid back, falling into a fitful sleep. 

___________________________________________________________

Gwilym couldn't sleep for long. As he parked the car at the school Lizzie taught in, he ran over things he's planned to say over and over. How sorry he was. How he didn't mean to ignore her. How he valued their friendship but would love it if it were more than just a friendship. 

How utterly beautiful he thinks she is, and her laughter is melodic, and she's so smart and kind. How regretful he is for obsessing over Clara, and putting her in that situation, to begin with. How over Clara he is, or how silly it was in the first place when he's got a great girl right in front of him.

He moved on autopilot, smoothing down the front of his navy blue sweater as he marched into the building and headed for the administration office to ask for directions to Lizzie's classroom. He took five selfies and one "Happy Birthday!" video from the secretaries and other faculty that still hung around and went out on his way down the hallways. With every corner turned, he heard his heartbeat louder and louder in his chest. He felt like it might explode by the time he spotted Lizzie at her desk and knocked on the doorframe to Lizzie's classroom.

"Gwilym?" Lizzie blinked at the figure standing in the doorway to her classroom. "What on earth?" 

"Figured I might as well apologize in person." Gwilym shrugged and peeked inside the classroom. The school day was over; the kids all gone. "Is it alright if I...?" 

"Sure." Lizzie stood up from her desk and walked over to him. They met halfway and smiled at each other, sheepishly. "Welcome to my realm." 

"It looks very nice!" Gwilym complimented her as he looked around at the decorations and different learning stations around the room. His eyes seemed to shine as he took in his surroundings. He could feel his heart fill up with warmth and awe, peeking into Lizzie's world like that. "Bet the kids love it!" 

"They seem to." Lizzie smiled proudly. "What are you doing here?" 

"I felt so horrid after last night." He said and sat on the edge of Lizzie's desk, crossing his arms. "I totally forgot you were there, and I just flipped out on Ben and Annie and..." 

"Yeah."

"It wasn't even about Clara, to be honest." Gwilym rolled up his sleeves. "It was just..." 

"Your ex is moving on, and it's difficult." Lizzie sighed. "I get it, really. I do."

"Not at all. Clara can move on as many times as she'd like, frankly. I was just caught off-guard that they all knew. Before I did, that is." Gwilym explained. "I'm just... I never wanted to be the last to know something that involves me." 

"Does it involve you, though?" Lizzie quipped. 

"Sorry?" Gwilym leaned back in surprise at Lizzie's bluntness. 

"It doesn't involve you at all, I reckon," Lizzie noted. "It involves Clara, yes, but not you. You're broken up." 

"I know we are." Gwilym nodded. "I'm quite thankful because if we hadn't broken up, I'd never meet you." 

"I don't understand why you'd react so passionately to something that has nothing to do with you and..." Lizzie continued, disregarding Gwilym's last comment. 

She was silenced by Gwilym pulling on her wrist to bring her closer to him, then crashing his lips onto hers. Lizzie pushed him back and stepped away, her wrist still in his hand. They stared each other down, panting. 

________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @ramibaby-deactivated20191128 @filmslutt @lose-you-to-find-me @sonic-volcano  @nosferatyou @rogertaylorin1976 @mrhoemazzello

[themikewheelers]

hello idek if this is finna b coherent bc of my ramblings and the fact i’m typing this at like 2am but. what *worries* me abt the kids and more specifically mileven is like that there’s no way both of them don’t come out of these YEARS of being absolutely terrified they’re going to die/lose everyone as children without some type of stress or anxiety disorders. like i can imagine el and mike like living together while in college and mike going to get milk and his phone is dead and el (p1)

(Continued) completely freaking out bc she feels like something is wrong and can’t use her powers to ‘spy’ on him. or like el falling asleep at max’s house and waking up to 16 missed calls and 32 texts from mike who’s *sure* something is wrong and someone hurt her. i was thinking abt it and like how do u even go back to normal after going through all that and losing so much u kno :( (p2)

yeah i mean these kids are definitely gonna have issues for a long time as a result of this. even not factoring in all the trauma we’ve seen on the show, they’ve got a lot to deal with otherwise too. focusing specifically on mike and el, for mike i rlly do believe he’s always struggled with a lot of anxiety, and he’s also got his own issues with insecurity and neglect at home and being bullied his whole life. and obviously el’s entire mental health is a cocktail of trauma and c-ptsd after growing up in the lab. and even trauma aside, we know the both of them are gonna struggle a lot with separation anxiety that starts bc of the year el was missing, and is definitely only going to be amplified now that she’s moving away. there’s a lot of stuff they’re gonna struggle with for the rest of their lives and its definitely upsetting to think about 

[blackveiled]

its 2am so coherent posting is gone but i wanna dot point lore so i can make a real page later 

cant go in the sun i hate twilight and tvd for that (ik tvd is magic but whats the POINT vampire media isnt meant to be in the sun)

the sun will literally set her on fire she cannot go out in the day time (this is the buffy inspired part and mostly how spike used to have to run around under his trench coat when he had to get out of the sun)

while adeline had a loyalty and love to the vampire that turned her, that’s not normal. it was that she loved so deeply and intensely as a human that the feelings were just heightened after she turned. anyone who experienced feelings normally as a human never had to deal with that 

she has to drink blood to survive, otherwise she gets really weak and is easier to kill, but starvation alone isn’t enough to kill you

the lost boys inspired adeline lore is that you’re half human half vampire until you kill your first person, although she didn’t have the internal struggle that michael did -- her loyalty was strong enough that the person who turned her said kill and she went oh okay :) 

also a lil obsessed with david being like drink this :) im stealing that too thats how adeline got the blood in her system she just thought it was a regular flask and it wasn’t

i feel like she either wouldve been tempted to kill her ex or actually wouldve done it when she was a new vampire because human adeline already wanted it ???? thinking

no she wouldve been the main suspect he can stay alive

adeline, all of five foot two, trying to work out if she can rob a blood bank on her own is also hilarious 

oh yeah also fuck compelsion or whatever the word is . she can flirt and be persuasive but she cant literally mind control by making eye contact thats so boring 

sorry half the media i consume is vampire related this could go on for 70 pages but im in my addie romance feelings now

[vacationcalendar]

8/7/21

Hi boyfriend~

Just took a weed gummie in honor of Bonnie’s birthday weekend. My present for my friend is that I’ll suck it up and be an active participant in their life for a change. I’ll be game for a whole weekend. I got up early today and tagged along to volunteer at a charity 5k. We grabbed some coffee and wandered to the halfway point of the course (thus walking an entire 5k in the process! Not too shabby ;D), and then camped out a water station that I’d say should be very grateful I actually showed up to work its sorry ass. Bonnie didn’t have to do any managing/delegating, they just got to post up and chatter at the runners-by. I’m pretty sure if I didn’t go, and I promise I am not tooting my own horn, that water stand would not have been the fun water stand that it was. They would have had 2 dunces making it go worse, and only 3 people managing 4 tables of water cups. Volunteers man, what are you gonna do? I’m sure that’s why they were looking for 8 people per water stand, just to statistically ensure that SOMEONE with half a brain would be around to help out.

Great morning though. JUST a little too hot, but that’s how you know you were doing solid work out there. The proof is in the pits, baby!

Ok, 40 minute bathroom break is over. Man, nothing like starting the blog to make me SO productive in the mornings! It’s such a cheat code. I did laundry, dishes, pooped; my whole day is bright and available now! But now I’m tired and I don’t want to write anymore. I had about a 6 minute where I wanted to do this today and I actually hit it for a second before I had to stop and do ANYTHING ELSE I guess. So, fuck. What do we write now?

I had to get up suuuuper early for this 5k thing, and I only got like 4 hours of sleep because I did not factor in the early wake up until like 6pm yesterday, and I had already slept like 14 hours that day :I That’s right, I woke up, immediately crushed the blog, went back to laying down, played League, and watched tv and shit until I felt tired enough to sleep and get ready for the 5k, which was 2am. So now I have a weed gummie digesting in me and I have a nap climbing up my priority list and this is why I don’t like weed. I feel like I have to plan my fucking shit around it, and I’m not good at that. Part of me thinks I can crash right now and wake up before the drugs make me sleep for 2 hours longer than I want, and give me weird, unpleasant dreams. I can’t possibly pull that off, I’m not sleepy, I’m just like sluggish. So basically what I have to do now is power through into the “trip” (maybe I’ll luck out and miss it and I can just pretend I’m high, which I won’t do, but hey we’re brainstorming here), and let that smoothly transition me into a nap. And THAT would mean that I have to entertain myself for the time being to get me into a good place to start being high...? And then I can like power up my activities WHILE high, and that would be fun. Playing video games, great. Playing video game high? That’s the whole point of it. I mean like, that’s the whole point of life, right? And then I can be like NAPTIME BITCH, and that would be fun also, in theory. And then I can go put a podcast on and go to the movies? Ugh, I don’t want to go the movies anymore. I’m to tired :( This sucks.

I’m trying to go see Green Knight. I’m sure that sentence won’t matter at all in even like 4 months from now, but I think it should be a fun time. So much more productive than anything I can do from the desk. And it’s not summertime like this forever. You gotta get that shit in so you don’t think you miss it when the weather turns. You want to be sitting inside on a cold autumn day thinking “good riddance, being outside is entirely overrated.” And I’m not there yet. Man I don’t know. Well how bout this? Let’s do a little more brainstorming while I’m trapped here writing to your dumb ass. If you ever read these again this part will be like a little prank on you lol. Ok: 1: Stay here, no movie. Let’s lock that in. that should make having to navigate being high so much easier. Let’s let the pipe dream of doing everyone’s favorite thing of being at a theater high wait just a little longer. Today can be a trial run. We’ll walk around today and think about what it would be like if I had biked 20 minutes to a movie theater and watched a 2 hour movie and biked home. And when we suss out that it would have been unenjoyable, we’ll feel like geniuses for making this call. So that’s out of the way. LOCK IT IN

2. I don’t know yet. Let’s just start simple. Food. What’s up? We have almost no groceries. We have no bread for a tuna salad sandwich, but let’s put that in the to-do list. We need more english muffins too. That was an A+ 10/10 move last month. Just muffins w/ strawberry jam, and egg McMuffins whenever the fuck I wanted, which was always. Frozen Veggies like Corn or Beans would be good. Bag Chop Salad kits. They weren’t on sale last week, and it’s goddamn highway robbery when they’re at full price. So this week would be the perfect time to check in on ‘em. And I’ll commit more to an equivalent substitute this time if I can’t find a good deal. Let’s see, what else? Oof my wpm and accuracy is starting to take a hit. The first and only symptom! Nice! Miku. Meat. Spaghetti and meat sauce? Gotta check out what ragu shit you have in the house before you do that. Consider this your reminder! I know you’ve never successfully pulled that off, but I have full confidence in you. Oh fuck, now I’m starting to worry a little bit the coherent quality of this is about to start dropping. Well, another fun little prank for ya bitch! Fruit leathers? I just have no fucking idea. Ok, so shopping can 100% wait for another day. This isn’t anywhere close to a cohesive trip. So we can eat out somewhere! Great, lock it bitch. I’m starting to swear more; it’s because I can’t find the right words anymore. Oh boy, the weed smelling burps are happening. This really is so gross and difficult. Beer is just a more bitter version of soda. It’s actively refreshing. Damn, if only I’d been a little more exposed to peer pressure at an earlier age. I’d have been past this awkward uncomfortable phase of weed, like how I (and basically everyone) was with alcohol. You slam Natty Lites with your nose closed until you start to realize life is little more pleasurable than the absolute Kelvin zero you had come to be familiar with. Uh, ok, I’m starting to let my mind wander. He’s daydreaming, chief! I suppose I could just transcribe the dialogue of the daydreams, but I can’t keep up. This is just break o’clock.

3. What do I fucking eat!? I had to make a whole nother numbered point, and I still don’t have the plan. Jesus H,. Ok here’s what AROUND. Chex Mix, unopened. 1 Grape Soda. Cookie Dough Ice Cream (w choc sauce). Raisins, PB, Ramen, meh. Reese Cups! I just looked behind and was like, “oh yeah! Nice”. If that’s not everything, that’s REALLY close. So what’s calling my name? Pizza? Chinese? Damn, I might just have to play this by ear. Nothing at all sounds interesting, and I’m not the slightest bit hungry (we got free Dim Sum after the 5k. It was called the Dim Sum and Then Some 5k). Ok, so other options to keep on the back burner for later would be: Kebab, Chicken Sandwich, go get Pizza Rolls and Chippies at the store. Ok that’s enough options, that fuckin really took it outta me, I can’t believe it. My hands are kinda feeling heavier now too. I better think of a #4 thing to write about quick or I may lose all my inertia.

4. UMmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Movie time? I watch arrival and turn off all the lights and pop popcorn and have my soda? Where sunglasses and pretend they’re 3-D glasses? Maybe. Ugh, I can tell right now my eyes are gonna get bloodshot, or dry out or whatever. They already kinda hurt :(. It’s fine. I feel more good than not. Like I’m wrapped up in a blanket, even though I’m not. Maybe OH- Maybe I lay out on the beach chair and read in the sun with an ice coffee? Oh fuck that might actually be perfect. Then I can go no shirt and just feel nature, and maybe bugs are less troublesome when you’re high. And then I can pop Doughboys on and shower! Shower high, seems like a guaranteed home-run. Ok, I like it a lot. I have to do SOMETHING away from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum or I’ll go crazy this weekend, especially if I have to tag in on occasion and “participate” for Bonnie’s Birthday. Which, let’s be clear, is the least I can do. It’s a gimme. I owe Bonnie AT LEAST this much, even just as like backpay for holidays or yore. Like if I have the zhuzh to punch in for birthday shtuff, I better do it, right? I just looked it up, it might officially be zhoosh, not zhuzh, but zhuzh appears to me to be the best way to do it. And there’s like 5 accepted spellings of it. Stupid, not helpful. Just because it employs a sound that has no [conformed] applications in the english language? Poor excuse! Oh man, it’s so early I can’t believe it! That 5k feels like a day ago, wild. Well, hey! Point 4 is finished. Moving on!

5. What to do tonight? Who gives a fuck. Figure that part out when you get there, it does not matter at all. There, numbered list over.

Ok so, let’s just wrap this up I guess. I’m cracking an hour here, that’s plenty. Maybe tonight you do a little PRE-WRITING before bed, so this isn’t so “chore-y”. Let’s just remember you seriously considered letting yourself down completely and bailing on the blog earlier this morning. So we need to keep our expectations at appropriate levels still. It’s this NEXT week that should be very interesting. Just in terms of output. A little more practice, and little more muscle-memory. A little less crap to distract me (I have been burning through non-stop crap youtube/tv this last week since coming home, it’s fantastic. I was gonna say it was sucky, or disgusting or something, but that’s a lie I tell to myself to pretend I’m more diligent than I actually am. ACCEPT who you are and love yourself for it)

I accept you and love you Max. Ok, I have to go, I feel like I’m gonna puke... awesome 

bi