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shatouto · 4 years

Note

YOUR BABY VADER IS SO GOOD I NEED TO GIVE HIM ALL THE HUGS. please tell me he gets like. a weighted blanket or soft clothes. or! or! or! anakin and obi-wan go to the market because nobody knows that anakin was vader, and anakin gets some nice clothes in pretty colors and theyre very soft and he gets some ingredients for cooking and droid parts to play with and everything is nice and good for him

GOSH thank you!!! aww i love that idea sO MUCH just reading your prompt makes me feel warm fuzzy inside. im not sure which baby vader you’re referring to (because there are so many of them in my wips and i love it) but i’ll assume this is the au ive been writing with @obiwanobi. so pls enjoy this near 2k of tooth-rotting fluff; i took some liberties

who likes sweet things

The clinic smells like bacta, as clinics do. But instead of sterile durasteel walls, the floors are carpeted and the walls are painted and the windows are curtained and everything is multicolored and joyful. Across from Anakin sits a healer - a kindly woman, very small in stature, with large, gentle eyes, wispy hair and pointed ears. She chats happily with Obi-Wan while working in tandem with the medical droid to secure the prosthetic to Anakin’s elbow.

“...disheartening, isn’t it?” She chirps, her three-fingered hands deftly fastening bolts around the cap and manipulating the droid to screw down the simple plating. “I can’t count the number of innocent civilians who have come here to fit a new limb. Just last week, I constructed an entire exoskeleton for this young lady. Poor girl, so young.”

“That is so good of you. I am glad for the young lady to find you. She came to the right place.” Obi-Wan smiles. “Those of us who have some sense all know Healer Saada’s prostheses are of the highest quality in all of Coruscant.”

“Ah, young man. Flattery gets you nowhere. Have you learned nothing as a youngling?” Saada shakes her head at the Jedi, then turns her great eyes to Anakin, ears perking. “And you. You’re a rather quiet boy, aren’t you?”

Anakin presses his lips into a tight, blanched line. This woman may not be a Jedi any longer, but she is not Force-blind. He glances to Obi-Wan, breaths bated.

Obi-Wan rests a hand on his shoulder. “He’s quite shy, Healer Saada. Please do not worry.”

“Oh, poor thing.” The healer hops onto a moving droid. It rolls towards the counter, where she sorts out some bottles while asking, seemingly in an absent-minded manner, “Where did he come from?”

Anakin catches his gaze the moment Obi-Wan looks at him. Obi-Wan parts his lips, as if ready to lie.

“Tatooine,” Anakin mutters.

Astonishment freezes across Obi-Wan’s face, and Anakin turns away. The admission isn’t for her, though he supposes he doesn’t mind her knowing. She’s just a person. She doesn’t even know his name, or what he has done, or what the dead Sith Lord has made Anakin do to earn his demise. Obi-Wan does.

“So far away!” the healer comments lightly, turning around with a soft smile. “What a great trip you must have made.”

“Indeed he did. He lives here now,” Obi-Wan clarifies. Anakin opens his hand, and the healer places a stretchy ball in it. She instructs him to practice squeezing it to get used to the new artificial limb, before sending them off.

They exit the clinic and out under a vast starlit sky. Gentle winds whirl overhead as they climb into their speeder, heading for the usual park where Anakin takes his walk. The night has gotten cold, yet the darkness is unusually diluted. As they pass by downtown, music wafts up alongside the scent of butter and frying oil. Anakin looks down to see a sea of lights over a town square, and colorful awnings draped over kiosks of all sorts. There seem to be many people there, eating, laughing, hand in hand. He eyes them closely, fingers tightening on the side door of the speeder.

“It’s a celebration, Anakin,” Obi-Wan supplies, as they come to a stoplight. Anakin turns around, and his heartbeat ratchets up when Obi-Wan reaches over to brush a lock of hair from his forehead.

“What are they celebrating?”

“Harvest season. It’s an old tradition, I’ll give you that. Coruscant barely has a greenhouse on it, let alone agricultural land.” Obi-Wan chuckles, then quiets down into a thoughtful smile. “Though I suppose the election result is as good of an occasion to celebrate as any.”

“Election?” Anakin asks, just as they pass by a great billboard with the face of a brown-haired, brown-eyed woman in a night-purple cape. The speeder is going slow enough for him to decipher the words written beneath it. Obi-Wan keeps saying he’s a fast learner, so he tries to read at every turn. “Chancellor… A-Ame…” He frowns. “Amidala?”

“Very good, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s eyes crinkle at him for a second before returning to the path ahead. “Padmé Amidala is the new Chancellor now. It was a rather close call. She is well-loved by many people, but not quite so in the Senate.”

Half of those words mean almost nothing to Anakin. “Why?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan hums. “One could say the Senate hasn’t been loving its people so much, in a while.”

Obi-Wan grows pensive, as he oft does. The faint, warm light from below and the cool starlight from beyond color him in an otherworldly tint. His profile is startlingly delicate, from the slope of his nose to the soft fluff of his whiskers and beard. Even the flutter of his lashes is graceful. Then Anakin remembers he shouldn’t stare. His eyes strays towards the bright lights and jovial music beneath.

“...But I am hardly brave enough for politics,” Obi-Wan muses, after a stretch of silence. When he looks Anakin’s way it is with some tiredness in his small smile. “Say, Anakin. How would you like to stop by the night market, for a change?”

They lower their altitude as soon as Anakin nods his agreement. Obi-Wan parks their speeder, draws up Anakin’s hood, and takes his right hand. Anakin’s synthetic nerves light up, even though it’s only enough transmission for him to feel touch and not warmth, it being a very standard model of prosthetic. His face warms up under the hood of his cloak. He’s glad Obi-Wan doesn’t notice.

They let themselves be carried by the stream of the crowd, of parents jogging after excitable children toddling about with sweetmeats in their hands, sugar on their cheeks; of young couples, one’s arm around the other’s waist, sharing bites of fluffy sweet bread or sips of mulled wine. Light shines golden and amber through bottles of syrup and jars of honey, glitters on the crystal sugar and drizzled glaze on heaps of candies in open boxes. The smell is divine whenever they pass by a warm stall with steam bannering overhead.

Anakin shivers lightly, even though the crowd blocks most of the winds. Obi-Wan tugs at his hand. “Let’s get you something warm.”

He follows Obi-Wan. A paper cup is pressed into his hand, ample and warm against his skin. The drink smells and tastes sweet with a note of toasted bitterness, the texture creamy and rich on his tongue. There are floating white chunks of some sort of confectionery in there.

“What’s this?”

“Hot chocolate.” Obi-Wan raises his identical cup and touches it to Anakin’s. “Do you like it?”

”Yes,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan’s smile warms his belly more than any hot drink.

They continue on their path, still a straight line from one end of the market to another. Anakin’s wide eyes travel from stand to stand: here a string of patchwork puppets, there a counter of carved wooden figures; and perfume vials, colorful figures (“It’s artisan soap, Anakin”), bouquets of everlasting tissue flowers tied in silk ribbons. There are clothes: soft robes in various colors, touted as “warm in winter and breezy in summer,” per the merchants; tunics with blossoming patterns embroidered at the collars or sleeve hems. There are kiosks of datatapes, illustrated by sparkling holograms of a High Republic castle, or a great speeder model, or even some holodrama character whose name Anakin can’t remember.

And then a booth takes his breath away. Glimmering under the light are shelves after shelves of mini household droids, custom-made transmitters, and a variety of artfully wired core processors. Replacement parts bathe in the blue glow of holograms depicting the corresponding droid models; and below all of this is a row of toolboxes of gleaming silver and shiny ivory, even iridescent inlays of mother-of-pearl. The booth seems to be one of a kind in the vast entirety of the market.

Anakin stands, transfixed. His fingers itch, and one of the tools begins to quiver and lift into the air, unbeknownst to the seller who has his back to it. He wants it. The thing will be his.

“Anakin? Anakin!” Obi-Wan’s hushed voice rustles by his ear, jolting him back to his senses.

The tool drops down with a small clang, barely audible in the noises of the festivity. Fear bursts coldly in Anakin’s chest - he shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, his Master would be very unhappy if he found out his young foolish apprentice had tried to waste his time playing with droids again. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, bowing his head, even as Obi-Wan squeezes his hand.

“Do you want that?” Obi-Wan asks, softly.

Anakin peeks up. The empty paper cup is still slightly warm in his hand, and he crushes it absentmindedly, tightening and loosening his fingers just to have something to do. “I, uh…”

Obi-Wan’s hand covers his own, gently prying the crushed paper cup out from the curl of his fingers. “I would love to get it for you, if you want it. It’s the toolbox on the bottom shelf, second from the left, isn’t it?”

The light on Obi-Wan’s smile is a honeyed gold, pooling stars into his eyes, and Anakin is transfixed again, not quite by the tinkering booth this time. He looks down as his face warms and his heart still pounds hard, and slowly he nods.

—

They come back to Obi-Wan’s quarters with a small armful: a new set of robes in muted, ashen pink; a box of tools with carved handles that are probably more fancy than they need to be, but still practical enough; a new array of spices and condiments; and a great tin of “absolutely decadent powder for drinking chocolate, Anakin, I can’t believe I let you persuade me into buying this.”

“You are the one who likes sweet things,” Anakin counters, arranging the new addition into their pantry. Obi-Wan laughs aloud by his side.

“Now how could you possibly know that?”

“I cook. I know that.” Anakin shrugs, and admits, “...and Ahsoka said so.”

Obi-Wan’s brows shoot up. He’s quiet for a few seconds, but the wide smile that follows only seems all the more brighter for it. “Best friends now, aren’t you?”

“No,” Anakin huffs and closes the pantry door. He doesn’t say more. Ahsoka gave him her old voicebook plug-in and lent him her comics; in exchange, he would pack her this spicy meat stew whenever she needed to leave for some time. They struck a fair deal, is all.

Obi-Wan doesn’t say more, either. They settle on the couch, Anakin almost rushing to fish out the toolbox from its paper bag. Finally having two hands to work with again, he examines it with zeal. It’s a good set of tools, he knows it; he hasn’t been allowed to touch these things for years, but he still knows. It’s in his blood. He can still wire standard circuit boards for protocol droids (the slightly outdated type) with his eyes closed; can definitely assemble a cleaning-type mouse droid from scratch if he’s allowed to scavenge for parts. He smiles down at the lacquered handles and the durasteel glint, picking up and balancing each microscrew, each hexagonal wrench, each tiny plier.

“...I hope it was enjoyable for you,” Obi-Wan speaks up, all of a sudden.

Anakin turns to him, not bothering to wipe off his smile. “It was.” He chews on the inside of his cheeks. “I’ve never had so many things. Thank you.”

Obi-Wan studies him for a long moment, more intent than he ever did. By the look on his face, Anakin expects him to say many things, but he doesn’t. He just pats Anakin’s elbow, where the prosthetic is joined, and murmurs, “You’re welcome.” His eyes have a moist sheen to them, smiling though he is.

#raised as sith anakin #always a sith anakin #obikin #shatou writes #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #it was fun writing this #i cant believe i wrote this in one go

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lailyn · 3 years

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Take My Breath Away, Part 2

TW: Paralysis

Metro-General Hospital

“I think it’s Guillain-Barre syndrome.”

“Are you sure?” Christine asked in new-found anxiety. "Are you absolutely sure?"

“Of course I’m not,” Stephen said tersely. “I can’t be. But the clinical picture fits. He had the respiratory infection that was going around last week, and the tingling and weakness started today.”

For the hundredth time since he brought Loki in to the emergency room, fully paralysed from the waist down, he cursed himself. “I should have known something was up.”

How could he have missed the signs? The lingering weakness, the unsteady walking, the general malaise that was so out of character for Loki...all of them Stephen had simply put down to a post-viral infection fatigue, instead of something much more serious.

Life-threatening, a voice corrected.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Stephen. It’s not helping.” Ever the voice of reason, Christine was still the grounding force he had once relied on. “Focus on what’s important.”

“It’s progressing way too quickly,” Stephen said worriedly, staring through the observation window into the room where Loki was currently resting.

“He hasn’t consented to assisted ventilation?”

Stephen shook his head, visibly morose. “He hates the idea of being put to sleep.”

“He’s going to tire soon,” Christine warned. “We’re risking respiratory failure.”

“I brought in the big gun.”

Stephen nodded at the tall figure whose silhouette they could see pacing Loki’s room like a caged tiger. “Let’s hope Thor can knock some sense into his brother.”

***************************

“Brother, you are clearly struggling. Why are you giving the doctors a difficult time?”

Loki refused to answer. He was not wasting precious breath explaining his reasoning, unreasonable as it may be, to someone so adamant in his mission to subjugate Loki to the mercy of doctors, human doctors who knew nothing about his kind.

"Loki, we don't have much time."

"There is no 'we' here, Doctor Banner."

Loki turned his head slowly to the other figure in the far corner of the room.

Like a Shadow. Like Death. Just standing there waiting.

“There is no treatment. You said so yourself.” Loki closed his eyes. He did not wish to see Thor's expression. Also, the double vision was worsening. “They can do nothing."

“Human immunoglobulin therapy is incompatible, and we are risking anaphylaxis with artificial plasma exchange,” Bruce repeated the conversation he had with Stephen word for word. "But there's still something we can do to help you tide this over - "

"There is no tiding over anything," Loki said in frustration; if he had the strength, he would have ripped out the oxygen-delivering cannula from his nose. "What you are doing is merely prolonging the inevitable."

"Going on life support is not a death sentence, Loki," Bruce said, his voice hard.

"None of you can tell me with absolute certainty when you can take me off it," Loki rasped. "What was the 'ballpark' figure again? Weeks to month? No."

The outburst cost Loki energy he could not afford, and the harsh sounds of his gasps drowned the noises of the machines.

"Brother!" Stricken, Thor dropped into the chair and grasped Loki's shoulder. "Save your strength."

The wiry cords of muscles of Loki's normally slender neck bulged as the Asgardian struggled to pull air into his starving lungs, and Bruce could not help but stare. Soon, those muscles too, like the respiratory muscles in his thorax and diaphragm, would cease to function.

When one's own immune system attacks one's own nerves, the result is devastating, Stephen had said.

"I'm calling Strange," Bruce said.

“No, you are not,” Loki gasped. “I will not be put down like some kind of animal."

If Loki had seen the devastation in Stephen's eyes the moment Bruce told him they simply did not have enough of Loki's blood sequestered in storage for emergencies such as this, Loki would be singing a different tune.

"Stop being such an idiot," Bruce snapped. "Noone's putting you down, and you are not going to die. Get over yourself and snap out of it!"

Loki's sneer curled into a cruel, ugly smile. "Of course. I had no say in how I lived. How could I expect differently now that I am dying?"

"Loki," Thor growled warningly.

"What will you do, Brother?" Loki asked. "Take Mjolnir to my head? What will you do to force me to submit to you?"

Now that he was calmer, he could breathe easier.

Or perhaps, it was simply a momentary respite, a blessed, temporary relief before…

Before what?

Loki stared at the bright lights over his head and something in him died at the paradox of seeing something so glaring, so full of life, when the rest of his body from the neck down was shutting down.

"I wish to be alone."

***************************

"Any luck?" Stephen asked quietly.

He had pulled some strings and gotten Loki a private room, away from the public eye. It was good thinking on his part, for the expression on Thor and Bruce's faces as they stepped out of the room and into the hallway could only be described as murderous.

"There's no getting through to him," Bruce fumed. The physicist looked furious enough to punch a hole through the hospital wall, and for a precious moment, Stephen felt touched by the sentiment.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "For trying."

Bruce pulled off his glasses and massaged his eyes. "So what do we do now? Just wait till he passes out and then stick a tube down his throat?"

"Christine would never agree to that."

"Surely you can do it?" Thor asked.

"Physically, sure. Medicolegally? Ethically?" Stephen shook his head. "And I would never do that to Loki."

"Can't you make this immunogoblin thing? The one that you said wasn't compatible?" Thor pleaded.

"IV immunoglobulin's derived from a large pool of plasma collected from thousands of blood donors, Thor," Bruce said glumly. "There's only one of him."

"But we've started saving Loki's blood, have we not?" Thor pressed. "Can't you two work with that?"

"Even if we had the resources to isolate and autotransfuse Loki with his own immunoglobulins, it will not be enough," Stephen said quietly. "And the treatment is only helpful in lessening the severity of the disease."

"You don't mean…" Thor could not bring himself to complete his sentence.

"There is no known cure for Guillain Barre syndrome."

Thor's jaw gave an abrupt click, before his broad shoulders squared a split-second later. "Then I go to Jotunnheim."

Bruce's head whipped up, and together, the two humans stared at the God of Thunder like he had gone mad.

"Quill can take me. We're good friends and he has a strong, sturdy ship." Thor's chest swelled in sheer determination. "We set course for Jotunnheim and I will come back with what you need."

Stephen fought to hold on to the last shred of composure, to keep his voice steady, "Loki will not last the night."

Thor turned as white as a sheet and began to shake.

"For Norns' sake, Man, will you not do something?"

The tears brewing in the stormy blue eyes was all the motivation Stephen needed; with a determined nod, he pushed Loki's door open and stepped inside.

***************************

Stephen watched Loki's chest rise and fall, shallow and laboriously slow.

"I do not fear going to sleep," Loki finally spoke when he could no longer stand the deafening silence.

"Then what is it?" Stephen begged. "What's got you so scared that you won't even try?"

"I fear coming out of it."

"What?"

Loki's lips wobbled. "I heard what your Christine said, about the possibility of permanent damage."

"Loki, we don't know anything about any of that."

But Loki was not listening, so consumed was he by his delusion. "I fear coming back a cripple. A degenerate."

Stephen could only stare at him, stunned.

"I was broken when I came to you," Loki said quietly. "I cannot come back broken. Not again."

"You would rather die for fear of something you think's going to happen? Something unknown?" Stephen asked incredulously, the betrayal blatant in his eyes and bitter on his tongue.

"Then tell me something," Loki said softly. "Tell me that something unknown."

"When we first met..." Stephen's thumb danced across the back of Loki's insensate hand. To think that Loki could not feel him anymore, it hurt him beyond reason.

"You asked me how this was all going to end, for us," Stephen recalled. "Do you remember?"

"What about it?" Loki asked, his voice hollow.

"This is not it," Stephen said, gripping Loki's hand firmly. "This is not how it ends."

Loki's eyes brimmed with tears. "Tell me how."

"I see you and me at the far edge of the world ." Stephen kissed Loki's eyelids, one after the other. "Standing shoulder to shoulder, just us."

"Standing?" Loki echoed breathlessly.

Stephen nodded, and his own tears landed on the bed, darkening it in places. "At the altar too."

Loki let out a sob.

"I love you, Loki." A hand grasped the side of his face tenderly. "Whole, broken, I don't care. I just love you."

"As do I," Loki wept silently. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, what with the invisible weight on his chest. "So very much."

Stephen kissed his mouth fiercely, long, hard and desperate.

"So you gotta do this for me. For us." Stephen's forehead felt hot against his. "Okay?"

"Okay." Loki breathed in as deeply as his constricted chest would allow, committing what he could of Stephen's scent to memory. "Okay."

In a matter of minutes, Loki found himself staring up into a pair of hazel eyes, familiar in their kindness, comforting in their confidence.

"We will take good care of you, Prince Loki," Doctor Christine Palmer smiled reassuringly. "Don't you worry about a thing."

She nodded at someone Loki could not see, and a mask was placed over his face. A sweet-smelling gas began to fill his mouth and Loki coughed weakly.

"Shhh." A hand he knew very well caressed the top of his head. "Sleep, Brother."

Loki's vision blurred. Shadows merged into swaths of colours, of bright blues and greys.

Stephen.

His tears ran freely down the sides of his face but he could no longer feel them.

He was floating, and there was no one there where he was going.

Then he heard a whisper in his ear, "I'll be here when you wake."

There you are, Loki thought, and everything went black.

#loki whump #sick loki #ask #fic #strangefrost #take my breath away

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butterflies-dragons · 4 years

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Sansa, Jon and Sweetness

I know that “sweetness” could be a bad omen for other characters in different contexts, but in these quotes of Jon and Sansa “sweetness” means innocence, family, dreams, beauty, desires and love.

Sweet Lady

Remember when Jon Snow called his mare “Sweet Lady”?

The mare whickered softly as Jon Snow tightened the cinch. “Easy, sweet lady,” he said in a soft voice, quieting her with a touch. Wind whispered through the stable, a cold dead breath on his face, but Jon paid it no mind. He strapped his roll to the saddle, his scarred fingers stiff and clumsy. “Ghost,” he called softly, “to me.” And the wolf was there, eyes like embers.

—A Game of Thrones - Jon IX

As I said before, there are so many things to say about this quote:

Jon Snow, the guy who is supposed to like the warrior woman type, whispered to his mare “Easy, sweet lady”. He could’ve said “Easy, girl”, but he said: “Easy, sweet lady”. Oh Jon, you are such a romantic dork.

Lady is also the name of Sansa’s direwolf.

Lady and Ghost are mentioned together and linked in many passages of the Books. I love it.

At this point Lady is dead, so she is literally a ghost.

Later in the Books Jon also dies. So we have a direwolf with a dead master and a master with a dead direwolf.

And guess who is the female character that is called ‘sweet lady’ the most? Yes, the answer is Sansa.

Red haired girls calling Jon Snow “Sweet” & Jon Snow calling red haired girls “Sweet”

Ygritte:

Tormund frowned down at Jon. "Best go, if it's the Mance who's wanting you."

Ygritte helped pull him up. "He's bleeding like a butchered boar. Look what Orell did t' his sweet face."

—A Storm of Swords - Jon II

Sansa:

“There's a new High Septon, did you know? Oh, and the Night's Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark's."

"Jon Snow?" she blurted out, surprised.

"Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose."

She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still . . . with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise.

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

Jon:

Blood meant little and less amongst the free folk, Jon knew. Ygritte had taught him that. Gerrick's daughters shared her same flame-red hair, though hers had been a tangle of curls and theirs hung long and straight. Kissed by fire. "Three princesses, each lovelier than the last," he told their father. "I will see that they are presented to the queen." Selyse Baratheon would take to these three better than she had to Val, he suspected; they were younger and considerably more cowed. Sweet enough to look at them, though their father seems a fool.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XII

Red Hair exists Jon Snow: Lovely! Sweet!

Sweet Dreams of Winterfell

Jon and Sansa really want to go back to Winterfell, their home:

If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens, feast her in the Great Hall, and show her the stone kings on their thrones. We could bathe in the hot pools, and love beneath the heart tree while the old gods watched over us.

The dream was sweet . . . but Winterfell would never be his to show. It belonged to his brother, the King in the North. He was a Snow, not a Stark. Bastard, oathbreaker, and turncloak . . .

—A Storm of Swords - Jon V

That was such a sweet dream, Sansa thought drowsily. She had been back in Winterfell, running through the godswood with her Lady. Her father had been there, and her brothers, all of them warm and safe. If only dreaming could make it so . . .

She threw back the coverlets. I must be brave. Her torments would soon be ended, one way or the other. If Lady was here, I would not be afraid. Lady was dead, though; Robb, Bran, Rickon, Arya, her father, her mother, even Septa Mordane. All of them are dead but me. She was alone in the world now.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

Sweet flowery smelling

Jon is OK with sweet flowery smells:

"Maybe he never washes, so he smells as rank as a bear."

"Then I'd push him in a stream or throw a bucket o' water on him. Anyhow, men shouldn't smell sweet like flowers."

"What's wrong with flowers?"

—A Storm of Swords - Jon V

The shield that guards the realms of men. Ghost nuzzled up against his shoulder, and Jon draped an arm around him. He could smell Horse's unwashed breeches, the sweet scent Satin combed into his beard, the rank sharp smell of fear, the giant's overpowering musk. He could hear the beating of his own heart. When he looked across the grove at the woman with her child, the two greybeards, the Hornfoot man with his maimed feet, all he saw was men.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon VII

Sansa smells sweet like flowers:

Sansa Stark, he mused. Soft-spoken sweet-smelling Sansa, who loved silks, songs, chivalry and tall gallant knights with handsome faces. He felt as though he was back on the bridge of boats, the deck shifting beneath his feet.

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion III

On the morning her new gown was to be ready, the serving girls filled Sansa's tub with steaming hot water and scrubbed her head to toe until she glowed pink. Cersei's own bedmaid trimmed her nails and brushed and curled her auburn hair so it fell down her back in soft ringlets. She brought a dozen of the queen's favorite scents as well. Sansa chose a sharp sweet fragrance with a hint of lemon in it under the smell of flowers. The maid dabbed some on her finger and touched Sansa behind each ear, and under her chin, and then lightly on her nipples.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

Sweet as Song

Jon seems fond of sweet voices and singing:

The wildlings seemed to think Ygritte a great beauty because of her hair; red hair was rare among the free folk, and those who had it were said to be kissed by fire, which was supposed to be lucky. Lucky it might be, and red it certainly was, but Ygritte's hair was such a tangle that Jon was tempted to ask her if she only brushed it at the changing of the seasons.

At a lord's court the girl would never have been considered anything but common, he knew. She had a round peasant face, a pug nose, and slightly crooked teeth, and her eyes were too far apart. Jon had noticed all that the first time he'd seen her, when his dirk had been at her throat. Lately, though, he was noticing some other things. When she grinned, the crooked teeth didn't seem to matter. And maybe her eyes were too far apart, but they were a pretty blue-grey color, and lively as any eyes he knew. Sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him. And sometimes by the cookfire when she sat hugging her knees with the flames waking echoes in her red hair, and looked at him, just smiling . . . well, that stirred some things as well.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon II

With their black hoods and thick black cowls, the six might have been carved from shadow. Their voices rose together, small against the vastness of the night. "Night gathers, and now my watch begins," they said, as thousands had said before them. Satin's voice was sweet as song, Horse's hoarse and halting, Arron's a nervous squeak. "It shall not end until my death."

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon VII

Sansa sings sweetly:

It wasn’t fair. Sansa had everything. Sansa was two years older; maybe by the time Arya had been born, there had been nothing left. Often it felt that way. Sansa could sew and dance and sing. She wrote poetry. She knew how to dress. She played the high harp and the bells. Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys.

—A Game of Thrones - Arya I

So the singer played for her, so soft and sad that Arya only heard snatches of the words, though the tune was half-familiar. Sansa would know it, I bet. Her sister had known all the songs, and she could even play a little, and sing so sweetly. All I could ever do was shout the words.

—A Storm of Swords - Arya IV

He thought of Robb, with snowflakes melting in his hair. Kill the boy and let the man be born. He thought of Bran, clambering up a tower wall, agile as a monkey. Of Rickon's breathless laughter. Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow. He thought of Arya, her hair as tangled as a bird's nest. I made him a warm cloak from the skins of the six whores who came with him to Winterfell … I want my bride back … I want my bride back … I want my bride back …

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

Sweet Bran

Jon and Sansa remembering Bran’s sweetness:

When the dwarf grimaced, his scar tightened and twisted. "The boy's earned himself a dagger, wouldn't you say?" Thankfully Tyrion did not wait for her reply. "Joff quarreled with your brother Robb at Winterfell. Tell me, was there ill feeling between Bran and His Grace as well?"

"Bran?" The question confused her. "Before he fell, you mean?" She had to try and think back. It was all so long ago. "Bran was a sweet boy. Everyone loved him. He and Tommen fought with wooden swords, I remember, but just for play."

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa IV

When nine-and-ninety hostages had shuffled by them to pass beneath the Wall, Tormund Giantsbane produced the last one. "My son Dryn. You'll see he's well taken care of, crow, or I'll cook your black liver up and eat it."

Jon gave the boy a close inspection. Bran's age, or the age he would have been if Theon had not killed him. Dryn had none of Bran's sweetness, though. He was a chunky boy, with short legs, thick arms, and a wide red face—a miniature version of his father, with a shock of dark brown hair. "He'll serve as my own page," Jon promised Tormund.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XII

This post was so sweet to write ��

#Sansa Stark #Jon Snow #Sansa x Jon #Jon x Sansa #jonsa

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kz-i-co · 4 years

Text

Sorority Secrets: Part IV

Summary: You were officially banished but you couldn't give up without a fight.

Pairing: Kim Jiwon (Bobby) / Reader

Genre: angst/fluff

Words: 2.7k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 || Part 5 ╫ m.list ╫ ikon masterlist

m.list ╫ ikon masterlist

You paced back and fourth as anger was fuming. You crumbled the note tossing it away and made you way out to the corridor. You saw Haeryung's room lit up the dark hall and immediately went over to her door knocking with rage.

"Oh hello (Y/N)." She just smiled enjoying every second. "I see you're not taking it well. Don't worry you can still sleep here tonight but tomorrow-"

"This is bullshit and you know it." You cut her off. "You can't kick me out, you got nothing on me."

"Huh. Think again." She pulled out her phone with a picture of you and Bobby kissing only an hour ago. "I got my proof right here so don't you dare threaten me." She said proudly.

"This is a fake rule. It's not even in the handbook."

"You talking about this handbook?" She held up her official book. "Caught you stealing as well. Wow."

"It's a rule if you like it or not and there's nothing you can do about it." She continued.

"I'll just go to the Dean then." You spoke up.

"Go ahead." She smirked once again. "He knows about this rule so it's official.....What?....Were you going to get your theata boyfriend to get Dk to steal from his father. Good plan." You hated to admit it but she was way ahead of you. "The Dean knows of our little rivalry. Pff he's the one that even suggested the rule....so sorry you have to leave us so soon."

"I don't believe you."

"Then go ask him yourself. You have been nothing but trouble since you got here. Wait until your mother finds out, she'll be so disappointed that her own daughter-"

You couldn't take it anymore. You slapped her across the face causing her to pull your hair quickly as the fight officially broke out. The girls from downstairs were up quickly from the commotion and tried to break you both away from each other.

"What the fuck is going on?" Mimi raised her voice. Haeryung was looking at you with rage as her hair was a mess and her clothes all ruffled.

"She slapped me first." She was quick to defend herself. "She's taking her banishment harshly."

"You can't banish me for a made up rule that's not even in the official handbook. Even if it was this is against initiation. First warning, then fine, then the banishment. You just skipped to the end because you couldn't stand me since I've gotten here."

"I did give you a warning sweetheart."

"It has to be in writing."

"Everyone downstairs." Haeryung spoke since the tight hallway was closing in.

She had all the girls in an open circle, as you stood in the middle. "I didn't get the chance to explain everything yet so here it goes. Jennie was banished from our Kappa house this morning because we caught her with a theata, more then once. Next Miss (Y/N) here is also banished from our Kappa house, too caught with a theata several times. And not only that, snuck into this very house, now that's two rules breaks right there."

"I'm not a idiot (Y/N). I see everything that goes on around here. That's why I kept my eye on you very closely. You don't deserve to get a warning and you're sure as shit lucky you didn't get a Fine. But once I go to the Dean about this, you mine as well be banished from school property."

"Please I barely touched you." You fought back.

"I was gonna let you spend the night but I can't bare to see your face another second. You can come back for your stuff tomorrow as security stands watch."

"May I have a word before I go?" You said.

"Of course not." Haeryung folded her arms.

"My past sisters need to hear this." You began to take the floor as Haeryung watched from the side.

"Yes I may have started a fight with sister Haeryung and I'm very sorry. But she hasn't let me breath since I've gotten in this house. She knew who I was and knew who my mother was. Like she was afraid the mothers were gonna give me her title or something."

You laughed but got to the point. "But yes it's true I've been caught with a theata, I've actually met him at the first party. And yes he was your typical party theata who was annoying and obnoxious like Haeryung warned but then he was talking to me during school, still annoying but then he started holding my hand, carrying my books, comforting me when Haeryung constantly harassed me." You sighed. "He was just a boy, who cares if he is a theata or sigma or whatever. I fell for him and he's very sweet and kind and one stupid rule isn't gonna keep me away from him. The rule is made up because of Haeryung past experiences and it's not fair that we get to all suffer because of it. The theatas are not bad. They're just regular guys, some are assholes and some aren't."

"Nice speech (Y/N) but it's too late. Your banishment was already emailed to the Dean." Haeryung smiled.

"Haeryung hasn't been honest with everyone here." You smirked. "Haeryung fell in love with a theata too. You all know him from the day we moved in. Theata leader himself Seunghoon." The girls looked at Haeryung with shock. "You are obviously still in love with him unless this stupid rule wouldn't be so enforced."

She squinted at you. "I'm not in love with that moron."

"But you are Haeryung unless this rule would fade out. You have a grudge against him because he made one stupid mistake and still regrets it, you know why Haeryung? It's because he's still in love with you."

"Bobby told me the truth. You were the perfect couple almost your whole freshman year but the last night for the seniors got too carried away. The theatas back then were harsh on their brothers and always forced them to do stupid shit they didn't want to do......But anyway he got wasted and cheated on you with a fellow kappa. He begged for forgiveness but you just pushed him away and worse you got that Kappa in trouble and got her kicked out for something she didn't do. You are a liar and manipulator and it's not fair to have someone like you as our leader."

"Who cares. The theatas have proved they are no good and the Dean agrees. That's why we have this rule. Anyone who disagrees can leave to."

"I understand the rule but banishment is out of the question Haeryung and my mother would agree with me. She was a leader once too."

"Then go cry to her and leave our house." She yelled.

"Another thing before I go." Haeryung rolled her eyes. "I'll keep their identity a secret but there is another Kappa here who has been dating a theata far way longer then I have. Years actually. Surprised you haven't found them out Haeryung, since they are constantly on your side." You smirked. "One thing I like about the theatas is that they are honest. They don't have secrets like everyone in this damn house."

You finally left. It was dark outside but you still had enough street lights guiding your way. You didn't know where Jennie was but you had to find out. You were going to fight this thing.

....

"What are you doing here Kappa?" Seunghoon answered the door with a smirk.

"Your evil ex kicked me out." You said returning the look.

He shook his head with a chuckle and opened the door wider for you to enter. "She wasn't always like that you know."

"I'm sorry, are you sober? I'm not used to that."

"I have a mid term tomorrow." He raised his eyebrows. "Bobby's upstairs."

"By the way." You started. "I think she is still crazy about you unless this stupid rule wouldn't exist. She's still hurting."

He sighed looking down. "I've tried talking to her."

"Maybe you can-"

"It's not gonna work. She's changed."

"It's funny. As much as I hate her, I just want to see everyone happy."

He smiled and went back to the living room as you went upstairs.

"Hey It's pool girl." Another theata caught you in the hallway as you passed their open room. He leaned against the door only wearing a towel around his waist. He had blond hair with a labret piercing.

"Is that what you guys call me?" You asked curious looking passed him as you noticed his roommate come closer. You remembered him as Jinu, the senior that was dating Jeonghwa. You still couldn't believe he was a senior from just looking at him, his face was so young and pure.

"Or we just call you Kappa." Towel dude continued.

"Oh yeah I remember you at our party." Jinu said.

"I'm not a Kappa anymore. I got "banished"." You confirmed.

"How come?" Jinu asked.

"I'm sorta dating Bobby. Do you know what room is his? Last time I was here I was pretty drunk."

"It's that one over there." He leaned out the doorway and pointed to the correct door. He smile was very genuine.

"Thank you." You nodded and slowly began to take off.

"Wait...." Jinu closes the door behind him to continue talking to you.

"You really got kicked out for dating a theata? We knew that was a rule but we thought it bogus."

"I thought you would know that out of anyone." You turned back towards him.

"You know?" He looked worried.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone." You smiled. "I thought at first it would help me break this stupid rule but it's too late now."

"It's not too late. I'll help you if you want it, just let me know."

"Thank you Theata senior. That's kind of you." You bowed respectfully.

"Ugh, please don't call me that." He turned around back towards his room.

You continued back towards Bobby's room and knocked on the door. You just hoped he wasn't asleep since it was already past midnight.

"Hey what are you doing here?" Bobby answered as Hanbin leaned up in bed seeing you at the door.

"Well....." You sighed deeply. "I was banished from the Kappa nu house and I have nowhere to sleep tonight."

"They can't just kick you out in the middle of the night like that." Bobby said growing angry.

"I was allowed to just sleep the night at first but then I started a fight with Haeryung so yeah. Now I'm here."

"Jennie was banished too, have you seen her?" You continued looking at Hanbin.

"She was banished?" He said sitting up.

"Has she talked to you at all?" You asked.

"She said she was feeling sick and going home for a few days." He pulled out his phone and started texting.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do." You said and Bobby pulled you into his chest.

"We'll go to the Dean tomorrow and get this straightened out."

"Haeryung said he knows already and it's an official rule."

He signed. "We'll figure this out tomorrow. Let's just get some sleep."

You took your shoes off and laid down cuddling into his chest. By this point you rather just live here so you could do this every night.

"Hey." Hanbin walked back in the room after getting off his phone with Jennie. "She said there's no more dorms that's why she's home. Have you thought about the apartments down the road? They are mostly students anyway."

"I wouldn't be able to afford it, I would have to get a job."

"I'll just talk to the Dean, and hopefully get this all straightened out." You continued.

Your face scrunched as the sudden ringtone alerted you awake. You leaned over trying to grab the device but you felt the sudden pull from Bobby's sleep state behind you. You let the call go straight to voicemail as you turned around closer into his chest to try to wake him up. You kissed up his neck causing him to groan in his sleep. Once his eyes slowly drifted open you continued to deepen your kiss until they met up to his lips.

"You guys better not do what I think you're about to do." Hanbin groaned as he slowly rose from his bed.

You giggled as you lied back down. "No worries."

"I better hit the shower before the other guys wake up." Bobby groaned as he left your side leaving you with a cold empty bed.

You went back to pick up your phone seeing it was only 9:30 and saw your new notification for a voice mail from Haeryung. You took a deep sigh trying not to let her bother you and began to listen.

"Good morning (Y/N), I hope you had a good night's sleep from everything that happened last night. I do wish you could of acted more mature so we can deal with this in a clean manor but unfortunately my hands are tied from your aggressive behavior. I will only be able to have campus security here by noon so I do wish to ONLY see you then. We will have helping hands here for you as a gratitude on my behalf because I did wish to see you rise above the other pledges and see you one of us but I guess we can't always get what we want. I wish for the best in your future." And with that the voicemail ended.

She really continued to get under your skin with that positive optimistic attitude. She's fake and a manipulator. How were you going to beat someone like that? She had everyone believing her bullshit and it's been that way for years.

"Did you want to shower (Y/N)?" You looked at your boyfriend as his hair dripped with fresh water and he continued to use his towel to dry it as fast as possible.

"No thanks." You made a face of judgment.

"Oh I get it. You think having only two showers in a house full of guys is probably disgusting. But I promise you......it could be worse." You couldn't help but giggle at his attempt.

"I'll just use the locker rooms to shower, no biggie. I have to be at the kappa house by noon so I guess I'll see you later." You said kissing him goodbye.

....

You were on your way over to the hell house to finally get this over with. The only problem was where you suppose to go after this? There was no more dorms and you weren't in a position to get an apartment. Would begging to stay be ridiculous? Could you sink to that level?

You rolled your eyes as you saw actually campus security waiting by the front door. "Hi (Y/N). Right on time." Haeryung came out side with her stupid fake smile.

"Are they really necessary. I'm not dangerous."

"Must I bring up last night?"

"That was just all my emotions build up from everything that was happening and I do apologize. I promise I'm not a violent person." You bowed respectfully.

"Trying to kiss up to me in front of security? That's cute."

"I'm not." You looked at her with sincerity. "I thought about everything you said and I was stupid and careless. I should of listened."

"What? Did you break up with your theata already?"

"If I did would that make a difference?" You asked not hurting anyone.

"Of course it would but then you attacked me. I'm not dumb (Y/N). You've been lying to my face since you joined us. Can't have girls like you in this sorority."

"Don't you mean cult." You glares at you but then her eyes lit up going past you.

You turned around to see what made her mood shift and immediately felt chills. Your mother stood before you with her arms crossed and the look of disappointment. It was worse then seeing her angry but you knew this wasn't gonna end well. Kappa Nu was your mother's everything and you messed up.

"Mom I can explain." You began.

#ikon scenarios #ikon fanfic #ikon one shot #ikon smut #ikon fluff #ikon angst #bobby fanfic #bobby smut #bobby imagine #bobby scenarios #Bobby one shot #ikon masterlist #jiwon smut #jiwon scenarios #jiwon imagines #jiwon fanfic #jiwon one shot

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anti-pasto · 4 years

Note

for the 200 ask thingy, i actually dare you to do all of them. :D

delgaskarthalexhere we go, anon:

200: My crush’s name is: I don’t have one right now, I don’t get them often (if I ever had a crush at all)

199: I was born in: 2003

198: I am really: A 2005 emo kid x a 2008 scene kid x a 2014 tumblr fangirl x Kyle himself

197: My cellphone company is: Apple

194: My ring size is: Honestly? No idea. Propose to me with a sword.

193: My height is: Somewhere between 5′7″ and 5′8″

192: I am allergic to: Nothing I’m aware of

191: My 1st car was: 94 Station Wagon, by request

190: My 1st job was: being this funny is a full-time gig

189: Last book you read: Bone Gap by Laura Ruby

188: My bed is: “made”

187: My pet: I have a cat, I love her very much and I will show her to you if you dm me a cursed image

186: My best friend: We don’t use “best friend” for personal reasons, but they’ve been with me since I was 5 so, my one and only Bro

185: My favorite shampoo is: anything with “silky smooth” or “strawberries” on the bottle. i’m not that picky anymore.

184: Xbox or ps3: xbox or ps4 xbox

183: Piggy banks are: really useful

182: In my pockets: wallet, keys, phone, earbuds, black pen/pencil, earplugs, mini flashlight

181: On my calendar: i’m meeting a friend for smoothies tomorrow

180: Marriage is: something we shouldn’t push so much onto people. it’s a declaration of love, not an end-all fix-all to your life. i can’t ever see myself getting married but who knows!

179: Spongebob can: continue to be a relevant meme

178: My mom: i mean. we function. i can’t really complain about my family at large but i am defiantly looking forward to living literally as far away from them as i can.

177: The last three songs I bought were? psh, you think i pay for music? (folie a deux, lake effect kid, believers never die volume two) (those are albums but its okay)

176: Last YouTube video watched: I watched Markiplier play Uno

175: How many cousins do you have? 11? 12? I lost count

174: Do you have any siblings? I have a brother

173: Are your parents divorced? Nope!

172: Are you taller than your mom? Yes, I have been for a while

171: Do you play an instrument? dude HECK yeah! i vibe on piano, guitar, ukulele, clarinet, and im a drum major

170: What did you do yesterday? I went on a drive by myself.

[ I Believe In ]

169: Love at first sight: Nope.

168: Luck: Yes, but luck is something that can be engineered

167: Fate: To an extent

166: Yourself: I’d say overall, yeah. I still have doubts tho

165: Aliens: Mmmmmm yeah

164: Heaven: Yes

163: Hell: Yes

162: God: Yeup

161: Horoscopes: without an ounce of truth, they would have died a long time ago

160: Soul mates: the greeks had seven words for love. i think we have multiple soul mates to fit each of those categories. there are definitely people we’re just meant to vibe with

159: Ghosts: i want to say yes but i really dont know

158: Gay Marriage: yes. its 2020. grow up.

157: War: in theory? no. war is kinda messed up. in reality? not everyone is going to be down to nice diplomatic conflict resolution, and not everyone is just gonna leave people *countries* they don’t like alone, so...

156: Orbs: ??? energies are real

155: Magic: vibes are real

[ This or That ]

154: Hugs or Kisses: hugs

153: Drunk or High: i am a child of jesus

152: Phone or Online: online

151: Red heads or Black haired: irdc but black hair bc i am Emo

150: Blondes or Brunettes: blonde?? ig?? easier to dye

149: Hot or cold: hot weather + cold rooms

148: Summer or winter: summer

147: Autumn or Spring: autum (screw spring)

146: Chocolate or vanilla: vanilla

145: Night or Day: night

144: Oranges or Apples: oranges (better to share with homies)

143: Curly or Straight hair: i dont care but curly

142: McDonalds or Burger King: mcdonald give iced coffee

141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: dark chocolate

140: Mac or PC: pc for vidgya gaemes

139: Flip flops or high heals: ...converse. please. i cant walk properly in either of those

138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: sweet and poor

137: Coke or Pepsi: pepsi

136: Hillary or Obama: this is kinda outdated but obama

135: Burried or cremated: cremated i aint watch spn for nothin

134: Singing or Dancing: singing. at least that gets better with practice

133: Coach or Chanel: chanel (thank u mr frank ocean and also the neighborhood)

132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: whomst

131: Small town or Big city: big city and if you say small town you’ve never lived in a small town

130: Wal-Mart or Target: target

129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: who tf is this

128: Manicure or Pedicure: idk dude probably pedicure i don’t like people touching my hands and i use them for too much to get my nails done

127: East Coast or West Coast: hnngggggggg west coast has more to do but east coast has better beaches and

126: Your Birthday or Christmas: birthday

125: Chocolate or Flowers: chocolate bc then i can give u some

124: Disney or Six Flags: ive only been to disney so disney (though i AM a HARDCORE rollercoaster stan so it wouldnt take much for me to say six flags)

123: Yankees or Red Sox: what

[ Here’s What I Think About ]

122: War: unfortunately sometimes necessary but not as a first resort i went over this already

121: George Bush: is that the shoe guy?

120: Gay Marriage: be gay. do crime. kiss wife. or husband. or partner. basically, hell yeah

119: The presidential election: america need 2 b single and focus on herself

118: Abortion: pro-choice and that choice should be made by the one carrying the baby

117: MySpace: tumblr’s dad

116: Reality TV: don’t talk to about abt this

115: Parents: disgusting. go to therapy.

114: Back stabbers: if you’re gonna stab me in the back, pull my lungs through my ribcage bc that’s what my ancestor’s ghosts are gonna do to you (thanks great (x a few times) grandma viking ily thanks for the hair:) )

113: Ebay: good for merch and selling books

112: Facebook: zuck my dick, data-theif

111: Work: i like doing work? like- i enjoy completing tasks and seeing my hard work pay off? it’s not that bad?

110: My Neighbors: old. boring. want me to babysit for free.

109: Gas Prices: i cant really complain rn they’re kinda low and im a little broke so

108: Designer Clothes: i vibe to them, honestly

107: College: not for everyone but definitely for me

106: Sports: marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport but only technically speaking though you can make fair comparisons to sports such as cheer, and gymnastics where the idea is to put on a show and receive a score in the form of competition.

105: My family: disgusting

104: The future: the future doesn’t exist

[ Last time I ]

103: Hugged someone: god, don’t ask me this

102: Last time you ate: uhhh like 9 hours ago? it was dinner and i had pizza

101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: three or four weeks ago by best bro came to visit and we vibed

100: Cried in front of someone: i finished twist and shout at school at the end of a very bad week. it was only a few tears but that’s as close as i get to crying

99: Went to a movie theater: whenever the last star wars movie came out

98: Took a vacation: last year i went to dc over summer break to see the Smithsonian, it was a lot of fun. i was supposed to go to altanta and florida this year but that didn’t happen for reasons

97: Swam in a pool: last week

96: Changed a diaper: never

95: Got my nails done: never

94: Went to a wedding: its been at least 6 years dude

93: Broke a bone: never, somehow

92: Got a peircing: nope

91: Broke the law: technically, yesterday. 55 is too slow

90: Texted: just now

[ MISC ]

89: Who makes you laugh the most: the person in my snap named “junior”

88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my cat

87: The last movie I saw: probably into the spiderverse

86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: things going back to normal. or somewhat normal. i need school to have a schedule bc i absolutely cannot force myself to function without outside influence

85: The thing im not looking forward to: ironically, school in the fall. the way we’re going back is going to wreck me more than lockdown already has

84: People call me: i only ft one of my bros and they know who tf they are if you ask to ft you’re getting fuckin blocked mate i dont do that shit video calls are for WORK and SCHOOL thats IT. but ppl call me by my nickname irl, i go by screech on here.

83: The most difficult thing to do is: listen to my parent’s political opinions? live in a small town? force myself to be productive without a physical influence and reminder? put up with that one dude?

82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: nope

81: My zodiac sign is: scoprio/leo/gemini

80: The first person i talked to today was: the potential bassist for our potential band?

79: First time you had a crush: uhh im still not sure if it was a crush but i wanted them to myself and they wanted (and got) someone better. we were just friends so it doesn’t really matter

78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: the person on snap named “the great oracle”

77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: yesterday, it was my brother

76: Right now I am talking to: in order of snap names, “vibin ~[^.^]~”, “russian umbrella”, and “mom” (not really)

75: What are you going to do when you grow up: hopefully, a job that makes me happy

74: I have/will get a job: as soon as i know what’s going on with school. but like as an adult? wherever will hire me and pay my fairly. being a barista would be fun, but at a local place (not in my current town)

73: Tomorrow: ???? time for bad poetry: tomorrow i will see my friend/ admist this lasting chaos/ we will be each other’s solitude/ while sharing fruity drinks/ and when we both come home/ a smile we will bring

72: Today: idk what this means so more poetry: today i will be sleep deprived as always/ i will think of them and weep/ but no tears will fall from my eyes/ for i know there is a reason/ we went our own way

71: Next Summer: i fr dont know whats goin on so: next summer i will be/ as happy as can be/ because i will be in pain no longer/ the earth is sure to heal/ and i will heal with her/ so i can enjoy/ the heatwave of next summer

70: Next Weekend: next weekend i will spend/ my days wasting away/ maybe ill finish hannibal/ again/ not that serial killers make the dopamine stay/ i will not see my friends/ or talk to my family/ i will seldom eat/ and live off coffee/ this has been my life/ all quarintine/ god someone please help me

69: I have these pets: i have four cats, three chickens, and a dog

68: The worst sound in the world: my dad and grandpa talking

67: The person that makes me cry the most is: Them

66: People that make you happy: snap name time: the great oracle, junior, vibin ~[^.^]~, russian umbrella, mom, hero, booby-king 48, go to bed, son, pooper trooper, mac&cheese, plain egg biscuit, apple pie

65: Last time I cried: i dont cry bitch (last week over officals that cant make up they gottdamned mindes)

64: My friends are: my family and i would die for each and all of them

63: My computer is: an old hp but it play gaemes real good so it okie

62: My School: is trash but the band pops off

61: My Car: old, fast, clean

60: I lose all respect for people who: are my dad

59: The movie I cried at was: i cried over big hero six

58: Your hair color is: blonde

57: TV shows you watch: supernatural, good omens, hannibal, parks and rec

56: Favorite web site: this hellsite or youtube

55: Your dream vacation: out of the country with beautiful beaches, amazing food, and my best friend

54: The worst pain I was ever in was: the time i split the back of my head open, the time i split my chin open, and the time my then best friend said they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. i’ll let you guess which one hurt the most and which one i think about every fucking day

53: How do you like your steak cooked: medium or medium well.

52: My room is: clean and a reflection of myself, or so i’ve been told

51: My favorite celebrity is: i do not engage in celebrity worship. ill follow them and reblog gifs/interviews but i dont really have a favorite. the less i know abt them the better.

50: Where would you like to be: my own apartment in nyc

49: Do you want children: FUCK THEM KIDS BRO

48: Ever been in love: i dont know if it was love. i dont know if it was a crush. what i do know id that i was attached and they didn’t feel the same, and why would they?

47: Who’s your best friend: we dont really use best friend bc but “the great oracle” “junior” and “vibin ~[^.^]~”

46: More guy friends or girl friends: its 50/50

45: One thing that makes you feel great is: goin fast, the beach, playin video games

44: One person that you wish you could see right now: them

43: Do you have a 5 year plan: go to college, earn degree

42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: commit arson

41: Have you pre-named your children: FUCK. THEM. KIDS. BRO.

40: Last person I got mad at: they do not understand that they do not know everything about something they’re not even involved in yet

39: I would like to move to: new zealand

38: I wish I was a professional: artist? musican? youtuber? who knows

[ My Favorites ]

37: Candy: nerds

36: Vehicle: 1970 mustang gt

35: President: jfk only bc his assassination is the only good thing abt american history the rest of it is fucked up and shouldn’t have happened. also jfk’s song in assassians the musical goes hard

34: State visited: california

33: Cellphone provider: verizon? apple? idfk

32: Athlete: what is sport

31: Actor: i don't watch shows or movies

30: Actress: i do not consume media

29: Singer: alex gaskarth or alexander deleon

28: Band: fall out boy

27: Clothing store: hot topic (i will not apologize)

26: Grocery store: okay harris teeter fucks but lidil’s has aloe vera juice and target at 9 pm energy so idk man

25: TV show: supernatural...

24: Movie: big hero 6

23: Website: tumblr or youtube

22: Animal: snow leopard

21: Theme park: busch gardens bc roller coaster go fast

20: Holiday: christmas

19: Sport to watch: snowboarding bc its like skateboarding but on snow

18: Sport to play: anything with havy footwork (marching band is a sport)

17: Magazine: i do not condume media

16: Book: the ranger’s apprentice series as a whole makes up my all-time one favorite book

15: Day of the week: friday bc its game day baybey

14: Beach: cocoa beach in florida but also i have so much left to experience

13: Concert attended: i havent been to any notable gigs but i was supposed to go to hella mega

12: Thing to cook: pancakes

11: Food: pizza or shushi

10: Restaurant: chiplote

9: Radio station: i like my local rock station and my local edm/top 40 station

8: Yankee candle scent: anything smoky or vanilla idc

7: Perfume: chanel no. 5 if i even wear it

6: Flower: Hydrangea

5: Color: orange

4: Talk show host: cecil palmer

3: Comedian: john maulaney

2: Dog breed: yes

1: Did you answer all these truthfully? ;)

That was a trip. But it was fun, please do things like this more often. Also, I don’t consume media by choice. I’m not sheltered I just can’t be bothered, and I have enough going on. That being said I will now be sleeping. Thanks again, Anon, I hope you have fun reading this :D

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drink-the-midnight-oil · 7 years

Text

Our Eternity: a flashback

TRIGGER WARNING: Miscarriage

DISCLAIMER: I am not a doctor or anyone educated in the medical field. The symptoms regarding the miscarriage have been written with the help of information from medical websites. The facts may not be completely accurate and it is purely for the intention of a fictional story.

Ten Years Ago

Betty’s hands trembled as her mind registered the two lines on the little stick she held. No. No, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They’d been so careful. But all the pieces clicked. Missing her period, the morning nausea, and now, the test. She, Betty Cooper, age sixteen, was pregnant.

Her mind shifted to how her mother would react. While Alice Cooper was not a proponent of abstinence, she did believe in what she called the “Cooper Family Curse”. According to her somewhat flawed theory, all Cooper women had been cursed with teen pregnancies. And eerily, the theory had held for three generations. Betty’s grandmother, Alice, and Betty’s sister, Polly, had all been teen mothers. And now, it appeared to be Betty’s turn.

Betty looked at her reflection in the mirror in front of her. She was a mess. There were prominent dark bags under her eyes, her hair was a rat’s mess, and a dribble of vomit was stuck to her chin. Her hand mindlessly touched her abdomen in the spot where the baby would be.

Tears pooled into the corners of Betty’s eyes. How was she going to face the town? She would be mocked and laughed at. A silly sixteen-year-old girl who had gotten herself knocked up. And worse, the father was a Southside Serpent. The child would be a stigma.

And what would Jughead say? Poor, sweet Jughead who loved her more than anyone else. How was she going to break the news to him? How would he be able to deal with this on top of everything else going on?

Questions swirled in Betty’s head, like a tornado’s calamitous winds. A wave of nausea overcame her and she stumbled to the toilet, grabbing the bowl and retching bile. Her empty stomach hurt and her hair smelled. But she had to get to school. Flushing the toilet, Betty turned on the shower and stepped in.

It was going to be a long day.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Jughead asked. School had ended and he and Betty were seated in the Blue and Gold’s office.

Betty’s stomach twisted itself into knots, and she clasped her hands.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” she started.

Jughead looked at her supportively, encouraging her to go on. His innocent face tugged at Betty’s heartstrings. He was always so distressed. Something or the other was always going wrong in his life, and he had told her that she was his safe place. And now, she was about to destroy that.

Betty felt her lower lip begin to quiver. She choked up, unable to speak. Tears brimmed in her eyes, making everything look blurry.

Jughead’s expression turned alarmed.

“Betty? Are you okay?” He came and sat next to her on the plaid couch. His hand started to rub soothing circles on her back.

“Hey, it’ll be alright. What’s the matter, Betts?”

His endearing nickname for her made her cry harder, unable to stop the tears.

“Betty?” Jughead’s voice was concerned.

Come on, Betty, spit it out.

“I’m late.” Jughead’s hand stopped rubbing her back.

She peeked up at him, scared of what his reaction might be. He was frozen in place, unmoving. His blue eyes were fixated on a point on the wall.

“Jug?” she whispered, afraid.

He blinked and looked at her as if realizing that she was there too.

“Okay, well-”

“I took a pregnancy test this morning. It came out positive,” she blurted.

Jughead looked at her, silent. His blue eyes were sad. Betty’s entire body was shaking, her fears all too real.

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” But she couldn’t complete her sentence.

Jughead seemed to sense her anguish.

“Betty, it’s not your fault,” he said, calmly. “We used protection. We did everything right. Sometimes these things happen and you have to deal with it. I’m not going to make you go through this alone. We’ll do this together, okay?”

Betty nodded.

“Come here.” Jughead pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. She pressed her cheek against his chest. The slow sound of his heartbeat echoed in her ear. He smelled good, like peppermint and pine needles. It was a comforting scent. She felt him kiss the top of her head.

“So, we’re having a baby, huh? I always thought it was job, marriage, then family. Not all mixed up,” He joked.

Betty knew he was trying to lighten the situation and appreciated his effort. She let out something between a snort and a laugh. Now, she just had to break the news to her mother. She sighed. Alice would not take it well.

Jughead slowly pulled her back and looked straight into her eyes.

“I love you, you know that right? And I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

Betty traced the moles on his cheek.

“And I love you, Jughead. Forever.”

“I guess we should start thinking up baby names, huh? None of the Forsythe Pendleton IV nonsense. I’m not thrusting that horrendous destiny on any child of mine.”

“We still have time, Jug,” Betty giggled. They were silent.

“We have to tell our parents.” A pause.

Jughead gave her a sad smile.

“I know, baby. I know.”

He pulled her back to him and they sat there, wrapped in each other's arms. The next few months would be filled with doctor’s visits and ultrasounds but whatever it was, they’d push through it together.

3 Months Later...

Betty pushed herself up off the couch. She was 17 weeks pregnant and her baby bump was easily noticeable. Walking over to the kitchen counter, she picked up the photographs that lay there.

They were the latest ultrasound pictures that she had received. She examined the little person that was growing inside her tummy. The doctor had determined it to be a girl and Betty had been ecstatic. The baby was due on March 15th, the Ides of March. Due to Jughead’s love of Shakespearian tragedies and the coincidence of the baby’s due date, they had decided to name the child Julia, although Betty hadn’t been too happy about it at first. It was like they were dooming their daughter by naming her after a murdered Roman. However, Jughead had persisted and Betty had finally relented.

Alice Cooper had not been too surprised when Betty had broken the news to her. She had simply sighed. It was bound to happen. Although not pleased that Jughead was a Serpent, Alice hadn’t been too hard on him. But Betty suspected that it was because Alice secretly had a soft spot for FP Jones. Nevertheless, she had willingly taken part in helping Betty through the pregnancy.

The doorbell rang and Betty went to open it. Jughead stood outside, rubbing his hands together for warmth. The fall weather had been cooler and crisper than usual this year.

“Ready to go?” he asked, grinning. His cheeks were pink in contrast to his pale face.

Betty grabbed her coat and pulled the door shut behind her.

“Let’s go.”

Jughead drove up the winding road cautiously. It was pretty narrow and one mistake could mean trouble. Trees lined either side of the road, their leaves orange and red and brown. The beauty made Betty feel happy and less moody. Her pregnancy had been her avoiding any reflecting surfaces and feeling fat and lazy and useless. Even though Jughead told her that she was beautiful, Betty still felt overly large at times. Thankfully, today was a better day. The car carefully made its way through the twisting path and emerged in a flat area at the top of the hill.

Jughead got out and helped Betty get out. He grabbed their stuff which consisted of a blue blanket, a thermos filled with hot chocolate, and two cups. They walked to a nook on the edge of the peak and sat down. Jughead unscrewed the thermos and poured them each a cup. He wrapped the blanket around them and they sipped their hot chocolate, admiring the view.

From where they sat, all of Riverdale was visible. Betty could see the high school and Pop’s and far in the distance, her house. It all looked so small and peaceful from here. Autumn was always good to the town. An array of colorful leaves blew in the wind and covered the roads. The weather was pleasant if not too chilly.

Jughead pulled off his beanie. These few moments that they had alone, in between doctor’s appointments and shopping trips, not to mention school, were precious for Betty. Jughead came to see her almost every day, but they didn’t get as much time as they used to. What with Betty’s volunteering and Jughead’s part-time job at The Register, longer visits were a rarity.

But Jughead would somehow manage to find a way to whisk her away from her hectic schedule and they would go someways private and quiet and sit. Sometimes they would talk, and at other times they would sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

“Only a few more weeks left,” Jughead said, turning to Betty.

“That’s right,” she replied. “I hope the baby looks like you. I hope she has dark hair and blue eyes.”

Jughead chuckled.

“I’m flattered, Betty. But it could be a little blond-haired, green-eyed boy just the same. I’m happy no matter what as long as the baby is healthy. I’m just glad that I’m having this child with you.”

“Me too,” Betty said, blissful.

They sat in a comfortable silence, Betty’s head resting on Jughead’s shoulder. The sun set in the horizon, its colors splaying over the town.

Something was wrong. Betty knew it. Spotting was normal for pregnancy, but the rate at which she had started bleeding was not normal.

She clenched her jaw as the cramps rolled in, squeezing her stomach muscles. It was horrible, the pain and Betty suddenly felt weak. She crawled into her bed, clutching her stomach. This wasn’t supposed to happen. These cramps were much worse than anything she had ever experienced.

She squeezed her eyes shut but a few tears escaped and slid down her cheeks. It hurt so badly. This was definitely not normal.

Betty stumbled into the bathroom, throwing up that’s afternoon’s lunch. Her head had started pounding and the pain was getting too much for her to bear. A sudden clenching in her abdomen nearly made her pass out.

There was blood everywhere. Her clothes were soaked in it and the metallic smell filled the tiny bathroom. Betty managed to pull off her pants and underwear and heaved herself onto the toilet, breathing hard.

Then the next cramp hit. This time Betty heard someone let out a guttural scream, only to realize that the sound was coming out of her mouth. Something fell into the toilet and Betty slipped off the seat and her head hit the cold, hard floor.

Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat. The cool floor felt good against her cheek. The pain was blinding her. Black spots swam before her eyes. Her breathing sounded too loud.

A vague memory of the bathroom door opening. Alice Cooper screaming. Strangers lifting her up. A woman telling her to breathe. And then, darkness.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Some sort of machinery was beeping. Betty opened her eyes. Immediately, she could tell that she was not in her room. The lights were too bright and everything was too white.

She tried to raise her hand but felt something her arm. Looking down, Betty saw a tube in her arm that went up and connected to an IV next to her bed. She was in the hospital. But how?

“Betty! She’s awake! Polly, call Jughead.” A voice next to her said.

A frightened face swam in front of her, and green eyes peered down at her.

“Mom?” Betty’s voice was hoarse.

“I’m right here, honey. You’re okay. You’re fine,” Alice took Betty’s hand.

“Is- Is everything alright? How long have I been out?”

“A little over a day. They had to keep you under for some time.”

“Wha.... Why are we here?”

“Oh, Betty. I’m so sorry,” Alice said, and that’s when Betty noticed the tears in her mother’s eyes.

“Mom.” Now Betty could feel herself panicking. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

The door burst open and Jughead stood in the doorway, his hair a mess, his eyes wild and sleep-deprived. There was a faint shadow of stubble across his cheeks and chin. He was wearing his shirt inside-out, Betty noticed.

“The baby’s gone, Betty. You had a miscarriage.”

Gone? Something didn’t sound right. How could a baby just be gone? Silly Mom, Betty thought to herself. She laughed.

Everyone was staring at her in horror, she realized and stopped.

“She’s in shock.” It was Polly who spoke up.

No, she wasn’t. She was perfectly fine. So was little Julie. Right?

A wave of images crashed into Betty’s mind and suddenly, she was reliving the previous day’s events. The cramps, the pain, and the blood, so much blood...

No. She couldn’t have lost the baby. She just couldn’t have. Tears filled up in her eyes and Betty’s vision went blurry. She felt as if a chunk of her had been torn away, leaving her raw and bleeding. Her Julie, her sweet Julie...

A scream built up in the back of her throat and Betty let it out, horrible and devastating. She hit away her mother’s reaching hands, thrashing and writhing. Through the tears and the crying, Betty saw Jughead still in the doorway, unmoving. Why was he so still? Why wasn’t he upset? Didn’t he care at all?!

Suddenly, nurses were pushing past him and into the room. They restrained Betty’s arms and legs but she tried to fight them off, to no use. One of the nurses plunged a syringe into Betty’s arm and a liquid flowed through her veins.

Betty’s eyelids started to feel heavy, and sleep overtook her.

The last thing she saw before her eyes closed was Jughead turning and leaving the room, not looking back.

Looks like I managed to finish the flashback after all. I know that there are still a few questions that are unanswered but don’t worry, they will be addressed in the upcoming chapters.

I hope you enjoyed this little bit. Would love to hear your feedback. The next chapter will be uploaded next week as usual so watch out for that.

Now I gotta go and study some more.

XOXO

Rhea

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #betty cooper #betty x jughead #jughead jones #bughead au #flashback #sprousehart-stan fanfics #FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED

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thesecretlifeoflee · 3 years

Text

i think i actually want to spend time with him. i know, its wrong and i shouldn’t. if i had told him this, he’ll reiterate that were not in a relationship. i don’t understand. he calls me just to talk to me. he even said that last night when we were on the phone. i asked him if he was busy and he called me asking me what i was doing that night, how i was free the next day (saturday) and what i was doing. i told him i wasn’t doing anything but i was trying to do something. i was trying to do something, with him specifically. he asked me what i was doing i said i was bored and wasn’t doing anything, why do you think im trying to hang out with you? he didn’t like that. his voice had changed and he replies, “i don’t like that, don’t hit me up just because you’re bored.” i tried to recover and say that i meant im bored because im not with him but he wasn’t having it. it was true, i was bored because i didn’t want to do anything besides him. he followed by saying, i don’t call you when im bored. i expressed to him that i thought that was a lie, he said no i call you because i want to talk to you. i had nothing to answer to that with. he had changed the subject pretty quickly following that. he confuses me and i don’t understand why. he’s the one who is married and who has a baby with his wife. im single, why is he messing with my head. i had even said to him how he likes to pretend he is this blunt person but he actually isn’t, i notice everything and i notice how he contradicts himself. he had asked me how and i had explained to him how he asks me a question but its very obvious how he wants a specific response from me, and he repeats the question after every answer because its not what he wants to hear. “why don’t you just ask that specific question to get that specific answer you want to hear from me?”. i don’t think he had an answer to that. he had said at some point how i am annoying, and of course, being called annoying is never nice. i questioned if that was a good annoying or a bad one and he followed by saying he’s not going to specify and that annoying is annoying there doesn’t need to be sub categories for it. i said there is because there’s always sub categories for adjectives since adjectives are pretty subjective. he had said something like how i want a lot of kisses or something like how i kiss him a lot. this made me audibly laugh. this was fucking funny to me.

when we had gotten to the hotel, he had been sitting on the chair that was staged by the window while on the phone with someone. i sat on the edge of the bed, one ankle under the opposite knee. facing him, watching him talk on the phone. he isn’t ugly, he isn’t sexy either. he’s just Tony. i like tony, he’s just him. he’s his own subsection on my personal attractive scale. i like that, he doesn’t need to be anything to me or with me. he walks up to me while on the phone, hangs up with whomever as he gets a few feet away. im staring at him the whole time, waiting. he gets only inches, no, centimeters from my face. “can i have a kiss?” he’s holding my face when he asks this. all he has to do is move the smallest amount and our lips would be touching. the consent he’s asking for first is stopping him. he wants to see how far im gonna go for him. to him, its metaphorical, the few centimeters away means more than him. to him, it means im down for whatever . i meet him the rest of the way, show him that im with anything. im meeting him halfway in more ways than one. i just barely touch our lips together, he pushes closer to me and i pull back. i open my eyes to look at his reaction and can’t help but smile at him. an innocent smile. but it seems to hit him somewhere internally. he laces his fingers in my hair and pulls me back and kisses me. softly, only ever softly. he’s got nice lips. so soft and plump. i like kissing him. a lot. he’s never aggressive, its like his trying to remember, maybe, like he’s trying to tease me. im not sure, perhaps im not thinking clearly. he’s always asking me for a kiss. we had been laying down and he pushed his cheek toward me, he had wanted me to kiss him. i kissed his cheek like he has done with me more than once. he calls me cute and calls me just to talk. perhaps, he likes the attention from a twenty-one year old. perhaps, he likes the physical relationship alongside the fluff we give each other after the sex. i don’t think ill ever know, he isn’t the type that’ll tell me. at least, not any time soon.

its rather ironic how he says im the one who does this or does that but he started doing that. he made it relatively normal between us first. he started to kiss all over my face and call me cute. he called me beautiful once. he kissed me all over. even on the top of my head. he did that first. im not used to that, i didn’t pull back but i had an internal conversation on what the hell was going on. the only person to kiss me on top of my head is my grandfather. it was inappropriate given our situation. maybe if he wasn’t married i would’ve still been interested, though, that was my initial attraction. but knowing what i know now, if i had knew that then, i would’ve fucked. he does have a way. i approached him with the option of sex, he didn’t approach me. i liked that. he wasnt creepy which is kind of strange considering most men his age are. i approached him and he was taking me as a joke. now look where we are. “too comfortable” as he likes to say. he’s the one that likes to interlock our hands while he’s driving, massaging my palm, kissing my knuckles. acting very domesticated. this must be a game for him, this forty-nine year old man, kissing and playing with my, a twenty-one year old- hand. what is he getting at? maybe he wants me to fall for him so he can break me.

ive always wished for a big heartbreak, one that rocks me to my core. maybe this’ll be that heartbreak for me.

he called me asking if i was busy and if he could come get me. he had caught me at a bad time, i was smoking weed, and on my period. i told him i don’t think he wants to since im bleeding and he seemed to get offended, saying he doesn’t care and he still wants to hang. i replied with a maybe. you know i didn’t think he wanted to hang with me outside of sex involved. i think he likes me. he asked me when my birthday was, “nineteenth of october” i replied. “i want to take you out for your birthday….if that’s okay with you?” it took me a moment to respond, obviously i said it was fine. i want him to spoil me. he wants to as well. while we were on the phone, he went on to say how he has a spot downtown, with a pool, how he wants to get some dinner. he just wants to see me. i was excruciatingly high and couldn’t hold a conversation, i really wanted to go. i want to see Tony, he’s so much fun. i wanted to go so bad. he wanted me to go so bad. i couldn’t, if i did i would’ve embarrassed myself with him. he would’ve hated me by the end of the night. id rather go with him when i can function properly.

i think i figured out what he wants me to say. every question he asks me needs a specific answer. he wants a praise. he wants to hear how i want him more than my ex. more than those strange men i interact with on a daily that so obviously want to see me naked. i will tell him. now that i know what he was looking for ill tell him. not because i know it’ll please him, because i want to. “i like being sweet to women… i like when women are sweet to me” that’s been ringing in my head all night and into this morning. i realized he doesn’t just want sex, he wants that emotional connection too. i keep thinking men are all the same, and when he says something he actually means something else. which he does, but he actually wants to connect with me. that’s where i was wrong about him. he says this is just sex, which technically it is. he said he doesn’t want to know me, he could care less. actions. the action say something different. calling me just to talk, asking me to hang out and get dinner. what do i have to offer that his wife is lacking? something he is craving? my head had been whirling when he asked me to get dinner and go with him. he wanted me to come out with him, that was a given. it physically hurt me to say no to him. i wanted to say yes. my brain had the answer swirling my head. it was all i could see. “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”

if he had called me ten minutes prior, the answer would have been yes. i want to be spoiled by him. I’ve met my match in bed. sometimes he says something cringe but i guess that’s all men. he was talking about n.l;.one of those women on the street would be staring at him if he hadn’t had the money for that car. he kept talking about what he has, the money, the nice car. why is he fucking with a broke twenty-one girl? what is it about me. maybe i should ask but i feel like that’s weird and very ‘pick-me’. i should’ve just said yes to him last night and just asked him to get me adderall.. or maybe some coke would’ve sufficed. something to pick me up and make me more human. bring me down to earth. i want him to want me, more than what he does now. i sound stupid considering the circumstances. i feel like I’m repeating myself. perhaps i am.

I’m thinking of going back to school. maybe he can pay my rent for me. he did ask randomly how much my rent was. while we were driving, off-topic, “oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask, how much is your rent at your new place?” while we were driving to the hotel that we had for the night. he likes me, that’s for sure. in some way, maybe i like him too. as bad as that sounds. i do, like I’ve stated before, he makes it very easy. especially, now that he wants to hang out with me, just to hang out. with me. by ourselves. getting dinner, going back to his place in the city. this is all crazy to me.

being with him this afternoon, honestly, didn’t make me feel that great. perhaps it was the circumstances or the playful tone we had with each other or maybe it was other pressing issues i was having internally. perhaps it was the fact i had just gotten off work. i didn’t feel as good as i wanted. i didn’t get to cum once. i let him finish, inside of me to be exact. its not like he isn’t good it just felt like it wasn’t his all. maybe it was the fact we were in an airbnb. whatever. im over it. im tired and annoyed to be honest. i don’t even feel like showering all the dirt and grime off of me. i don’t feel like showering the smell of Tony off of me.

we had been walking to the airbnb, he offered me some kind of job. he wasn’t descriptive or very forward with what type of job it was, but he said he’d have ‘a reason to give me money’. i wonder what that means. i asked if he was trying to be a sugar daddy but without the title. in the moment, i hadn’t fully comprehended what he meant. he was offering me a job. an “off the books” type of job. he asked about my situation and i had been truthful. his rebuttal had been to pause that conversation and continuing another time. he wants me to do something very illegal. it doesn’t bother me. at least he’d have ‘a reason to give me money’, as he put it. im conflicted internally at the moment. im not quiet sure of what yet, but i can feel it. the feeling in my stomach when i look at him before we fuck. i don’t think its a good feeling either. he may not get attached. but something else that’s bad will happen. i don’t know what yet. maybe it’ll just be personal/mentally and not necessarily with Tony. i don’t know but i didn’t enjoy myself today. maybe its getting old.

maybe im pulling a self sabotage, but i don’t think ill see him anymore or at least not as much. he seems so manipulative. every move of his is calculated and well thought out. i can tell and with the stuff he says, he tells on himself. i knew i wasnt gonna see him again last night. he tried to make it seem like my idea that i was gonna stay home. without the rose colored glasses, these flags are blood red and are waiving high. i keep thinking he’s using me for his nighttime tony business, whatever that may be exactly. maybe i would for extra money. id have to hear the extent of the job he wants me to do. i don’t know if im gonna sleep with him again, maybe miss a few of his his calls. he kept saying that there’s no connect between us, no connection, i had made a joke saying say this our connection, a very great one at that. he didn’t seem amused. why does there need to be a connection? you’re fucking married and have a whole kid. im young and dumb and having so much fun. or i was, at least up until yesterday. i knew it was just sex but it made me feel really dirty taking an uber home. immediately after. is that my issue? that it wasn’t like last time? its probably all these factors morphed into this big ball of frustration. if im genuinely just feeling off from this whole thing. he talks about his wife but this time it had made me feel weird. i had said something and he had just looked at me and never responded. fuck, i can’t even remember what i said. the context to the conversation was him taking about how they don’t sleep together, great, a marriage that’s fucked is being fucked up more and more by one woman at a time. right now, im one of those woman, like I’ve stated in the past, definitely not the last one either. am i growing a conscious for this woman? before it had been different because she was just some side character or an NPC in my storyline, but the more he talks about her and lets me see into who she is as a person, adds to the newly sprung guilt, or no, not guilt, but its definitely not a good feeling. maybe, he’s sleeping with me to get me into nighttime tony’s business he has. every time we sleep together, or have slept together, he has drank. maybe he has to to be able to fuck me. but then why does he stare so much?

why must there be a connection? he sounded almost offended that i said there didn’t need to be. i wish he’d like me to be honest. I’ve only been with him three times now. why do i want him to respond? why do i want to talk to him and just hang out with me? we don’t even have any common ground. he deletes my message thread and my feelings get hurt. lying down, i remember what i said to him. we had been taking about how his wife has his location and he doesn’t want to be in a suspicious place cause then shell know. i had made the comment of “it sounds like youre being abused”. he had looked at me and stayed silent and opened the car door and hopped out. i followed, and in my head so many questions had been whirling within. ranging from ‘why the fuck did i just say that?’ to ‘i wonder if that is a type of situation of which had actually happened?’. the walk to the room had been quiet, i wasnt sure if it was because of my comment or what, but the way he had looked at me was burned into my brain. that look he had… i don’t even know what to say it was. i don’t know. it scared me. i think i was kind of chuckling because my comment meant no harm, it was supposed to be a bad joke so i had probably been smiling. he had the face of not being amused. thinking on it now, that was probably the first strike within myself. the look that he had that was definitely directed to me was not of lightheartedness. usually i can read people very well, but this time it was kind of hard to gauge his thoughts. i keep thinking that maybe he is doing this all on purpose, every time we’ve been together he drinks, he’s “accidentally” let me into nighttime Tony’s business, even offered me to work for him, but he engages with me sexually even when sober? i should probably ask what’re his plans with me. i don’t mind doing some side work for some extra money, but for him? that’s where the doubt starts to roll in. working for tony does not sound like it’d end well for me. does he want sex or is he trying to get me involved into his world that isn’t so right for me. my sister’s voice is ringing in my head every time i see him. the danger is still fun, but now as much. i don’t know when ill see him again, but im afraid to ask. i don’t know if i even want to given the circumstances. its not just me that has some frustration, if that’s what i should classify it as. he has negative feelings toward me, i can feel it. i think ill try once more, this time ill offer food and sex, just to chill, maybe make that ‘connect’ he keeps asking about. should i?

well i did, i asked him if he was busy Saturday and asked if there’s any work i can come along for. “oh no, i don’t do that shit.” is exactly what he said. why am i trying to connect with this man. he’s so much older than me so im not expecting anything. or maybe i am and i haven’t come to terms with it internally. i know he’s full ass married, but why the fuck does he ask some questions like? where’s the connect and how he calls me just to talk. after what was said it got quiet, it was filled with a lot of tension so i had to hang up. it was so odd. were in a weird place right now and i don’t think we can recover. i dont even want to have sex with him anymore at this point.

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taekookismylifeline · 6 years

Text

(yoonseok) - trust my heart when it beats for you

ao3: (x)

Summary: Jung Hoseok has had an awkward Thing for Min Yoongi for four years of his school life. He is certain that the only thing that gets in the way of them and everlasting love is the fact that Min Yoongi doesn’t know he exists, but that all changes due to one drunken text message: a pick-up line. Ready to flee to another country under a false identity in mortification, he finds himself ruining their blossoming friendship and confessing when Yoongi asks why Hoseok had tried to flirt with him. However, things take a turn after his confession when Yoongi starts to (awkwardly) flirt back.

Pairings: Yoonseok, Taekook and Namjin

Chapters: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), (27)

Chapter Twenty-Eight - you’ve done it to my heart again. oh no

“So, which universities are you looking at?” Taehyung muttered to him in Science class on Tuesday morning.

Hoseok was bent over, trying to appear as if he were immersed in his work when he was anything but. He had better things to do, like text-yelling at Seokjin as to why he hadn’t been informed about Seokjin’s and Namjoon’s relationship. It was far more satisfying and rewarding than figuring out formulas for his chemistry work. “Huh?” He looked up from his phone to see Taehyung glowering at him.

“I said,” Taehyung hissed, “what universities are you looking at?”

Hoseok wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I don’t know. I’m looking at the courses more than the actual places to study.”

Taehyung lifted an eyebrow, a knowing smile crawled onto his face. “So, what are the courses you’re looking at?”

Crap. Abort mission. Hoseok looked back to his notes and began elaborating on them. “Oh, you know... This and that.”

“Interesting,” Taehyung commented, flicking his eyes back onto his own work. “In all the courses I’ve looked through, I haven’t ever seen one for ‘this and that’.”

“Oh, please don’t,” Hoseok whined, rolling his eyes. “You sound just like Jin.” Taehyung laughed but quickly ceased when the teacher cast a beady eye over to him. “Speaking of Jin,” Hoseok continued, “you know, he’s been with ‘Joon for almost three months?”

“Lucky,” Taehyung hummed, most of his attention directed on his worksheet.

“That’s three months he didn’t tell us!” Hoseok exclaimed. Someone aimed a piece of paper at his head and he opened it once it rebounded and landed on the table. ‘You’re so loud! Don’t get another detention!’

“Well, maybe he wanted their relationship to be private. You know that Jin’s not really open about that kind of stuff. We didn’t even know that Namjoon had asked him out until Yoongi told you – No!” Hoseok had opened his mouth once Taehyung had mentioned his boyfriend’s name and abruptly shut it at the interruption.

“What?” He questioned, noting Taehyung’s weary glare.

Taehyung dropped his pen and rubbed his temples. “You’re in that honeymoon phase.” Hoseok scrunched his brows into his nose bridge – he was fairly certain he and Yoongi hadn’t gotten married. Taehyung sighed in exasperation. “The honeymoon phase is where your whole world revolves around your significant other, ‘Seok. You won’t stop talking about him, it’s Yoongi this and Yoongi that. It was cute at first, but now... Now I want to suffocate you.”

Hoseok was affronted and let out a winded gasp. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind when you get with Jeongguk!” Taehyung glared at him. “What’s wrong, Tae? You’ve been all... Not so nice lately. I’m sorry if I’ve annoyed you.”

A sigh escaped Taehyung’s lips and he buried his head in his hands. “Sorry, ‘Seok. I’ve just been... A little busy lately.” Hoseok frowned in concern and waited for Taehyung to elaborate, but he didn’t. “And this whole thing with ‘Guk isn’t really helping.”

“Well, you scored a date with him, didn’t you?” Hoseok asked, uncertainty pooling in the pit of his stomach. “And he was the one to ask you, not the other way ‘round.”

He was trying to approach delicately but by Taehyung’s groan he could tell that he wasn’t going about it in the correct way. “Yes, but it’s no real confirmation. I wanted to tell him how I feel in that restaurant, but I couldn’t do it! He was just sitting there, looking so beautiful that I – I freaked out. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this Sunday.”

“Well, you’ll have to survive Saturday first,” Hoseok mused. His mind fixated on what Yoongi was going to wear and how adorable he would look, and how he himself was planning to pay for Yoongi’s food and order him a hot chocolate just so he could see Yoongi with a cream moustache – something his parents always used to do to him.

Hoseok missed Yoongi’s intoxicating presence, missed hearing his enchanting voice. He had last seen Yoongi an hour ago in the courts for fifteen minutes as it was their break, but it wasn’t enough. Fifteen minutes was nowhere near the time that could suffice Hoseok’s hunger for Yoongi. To see him, to hear him, to laugh with him, to smile at him, to touch him, to smell him-

Maybe Taehyung was right about the honeymoon phase. Only Hoseok disagreed with the ‘phase’ part of that term. Whatever he had felt for Yoongi before had only amplified when finally being allowed to hold him, to care for him, to love him. A phase did not last for seven years, that he was adamant about.

“You’re really not helping me here, ‘Seok.” Hoseok was dragged back into reality upon hearing Taehyung’s lament.

“Sorry,” Hoseok replied sheepishly. He decided to move on from Jeongguk, that conversation topic only seemed to be a dark one at this moment in time. He leant in closer, in order for any potential eavesdroppers to be unable to hear him. “What’s going on with Jimin?”

Taehyung tilted his head and bit his lip in contemplation. Hoseok watched, slightly in awe. Taehyung really was a work of art, how had Jeongguk not snatched him up yet? “Well, he’s moved back into his parents’ house.” Hoseok’s eyes grew wide in shock. “He’s agreed to go to the doctors to see if there’s any lasting damage, but he doesn’t think there will be because he didn’t do a lot of the stuff he said he had, and I think he’s thinking about going to relationship counselling along with his parents.”

“Wow,” Hoseok breathed out, impressed and shocked at how rapidly Jimin seemed to be changing for the better. “I’m so glad.”

“So am I,” Taehyung agreed, rubbing out a spelling mistake.

“Now you can jerk off without him being there,” Hoseok quipped as soon as a heavy silence settled over them. Taehyung let out a vague snort and his lips barely quirked into the smile that Hoseok knew and loved. “Did you... Did you sort things out with him?”

Taehyung bit his lip again, kept his eyes on his paper. He shook his head and Hoseok deflated. “I didn’t have time. There’s a lot going on for the both of us.” Hoseok didn’t have time to question as to why Taehyung was suddenly so busy as he had moved on. “But I thought a lot about what you said, as I’ve told you, and that’s why I asked ‘Guk if he wanted to talk. But now I’ve got a date with him and I don’t really know what to do.”

Hoseok watched his best friend with a pained sadness in his heart. He rubbed Taehyung’s arm consolingly. “It’ll work out, Tae. Once you’ve decided something with Jeongguk, you can figure out how to deal with Jimin. It’ll all fall into place. It always does.”

Saturday fast approached and along with amounted to a mountain of messages from the newly formed group chat. By Saturday morning and awaking to Namjoon’s: ‘. Good morn.ing. . .’, Hoseok felt as if he had been lifelong friends with the five boys. It was as if years of distance between him, Namjoon and Jeongguk had been replaced with years of history within a week. It was almost scary how quickly they had bonded and how they all got along, their personalities melding together to create a gold encrusted jigsaw puzzle.

Jimin hadn’t read any of the messages although he had been online. Hoseok blamed the streak of cowardice that ran within him for stopping him reaching out privately to Jimin to invite him to join Hoseok and the others today. Although that they had ended on a positive note the last time they had seen each other, it was tinged with memories of Hoseok’s explosion of repressed frustration. He wanted to apologise but felt it was insincere to do it over the phone. Hoseok tried to find an excuse, Jimin must not want to talk to him because Jimin hadn’t contacted him to inform him about his developments. So, even if Hoseok did reach out, Jimin wouldn’t contact him back.

It didn’t make him feel any better, but he pushed it into the back of his mind. He could dwell on it later, for now he had to get ready.

Hoseok decided on jeans, a turtleneck jumper that Taehyung had recommended and some cologne that was circling the bottom of its packaging. His mum handed him some money and petted his cheek, telling him to have a good time with his friends. He had just clambered onto the train when he received a message from Yoongi. He smiled upon just reading the contact name and opened the private chatroom.

Min Yoongi: hey, are you on your way?

Jung Hoseok: yh im on the train! Ive never been to this restaurant Jung Hoseok: its Italian isnt it? Jung Hoseok: are u on your way??

Min Yoongi: Yeah, it is, do you like Italian food? Min Yoongi: Yeah, I’m on the train as well, I’ll meet you at the station

Jung Hoseok: ive never really tried it Jung Hoseok: okay then!!!! :)

Min Yoongi: Well, we’ll try it together Min Yoongi: Jin told me on private that you’ve written another haiku, is this true? Min Yoongi: He said that if you recite it today, he’ll bring physical copies of Namjoon’s poetry Min Yoongi: You don’t have to if you don’t want to

Jung Hoseok: im going to kill him Jung Hoseok: ur so sweet yoongs Jung Hoseok: I think i remember it, so I’ll give it a shot Jung Hoseok: I wanna see Joon’s poetry!!! Jung Hoseok: tell him it’s on

Min Yoongi: okay, I will Min Yoongi: I hope this poem is better than the ever classic ‘Flower Boy’ Min Yoongi: I hope it’s erotic

Jung Hoseok: OENGKW SAME HERE Jung Hoseok: that made me laugh out loud yoongs i hope youre happy

Min Yoongi: I am :) Min Yoongi: How could I not be happy when you’re mine?

Jung Hoseok: yoongs u know your way to my heart Jung Hoseok: okay the stations coming up, ill see you in a bit :)

Min Yoongi: See you, Seok :)

As soon as he saw Seokjin’s face any intent to kill him rapidly subsided and was replaced with overwhelming joy. “Jin!” Hoseok yelped and leapt into his arms, narrowly avoiding smacking Namjoon in the face.

“Wow – hey there, ‘Seok!” Seokjin greeted and Hoseok slid out of his grasp and stood back, realising now just how tall Seokjin was as he hadn’t noticed Seokjin’s height in the dim lighting of the party a few months back. “How’ve you been?”

“Busy,” Hoseok bluffed. “You?”

“Same here,” Seokjin grinned at him.

“Get a room,” a voice quipped from beside of him. Namjoon was surveying their exchange with a fond smile.

Hoseok laughed at the reference, “it’s nice to see you, too.” He checked the time on his phone before realising that a familiar presence had disappeared from his side. “Where’s Yoongs?” He asked, peering around the corner of the restaurant as if Yoongi was hiding in the alleyway.

“You left him when you ran over to me,” Seokjin replied, laughing when seeing Hoseok’s horrified expression.

“Oh, crap!” Hoseok spotted a familiar head in the distance, quietly approaching them. He excused himself hurriedly and sprinted towards the figure, launching himself onto Yoongi and wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s neck. “I’m sorry, Yoongs, I didn’t mean to leave you, I just saw Jin and got so excited I had to run-”

Yoongi laughed into his neck and pulled away. “It’s fine, ‘Seok, just – we can’t stay here, we’re in the way.”

“Oh,” Hoseok joined Yoongi’s side when realising that many people were swarming around them trying to turn in different directions. The back of his hand brushed against Yoongi’s so he eagerly grasped for the familiar and much loved warmth, interlocking their fingers. His heartbeat hummed loudly when Yoongi applied pressure and squeezed his hand.

Whenever he was with Yoongi like this, allowed to touch such a creature who was the definition of perfection, he almost felt like he were living in a dream and the tips of his toes were barely skimming the floor. Hoseok felt as if he were flying.

Together, they met up with Seokjin and Namjoon outside of the restaurant just as the same time as Jeongguk crossed the street to greet them.

“Well, look at you two,” Seokjin cooed at them and their conjoined hands. Namjoon nudged him to let go of it but seemed to be captivated when Seokjin turned his head to meet his eyes. “Don’t they remind you of us? Young and in love?”

Hoseok froze slightly, the ‘l’ word catching in his ears and resonating around his mind, like someone had struck his brain and the contact had clanged like a gong. He prayed that Yoongi hadn’t noticed and smiled stiffly. “‘Joon’s in the same year as us, Jin. Stop trying to age us to make yourself feel better.”

Namjoon laughed and Seokjin appeared affronted but it all paled in comparison to hear Yoongi’s snort of amusement next to him.

“Good afternoon,” Jeongguk greeted, having lingered on the edge of their exchange. Namjoon smiled at him whilst Seokjin gasped.

“And you must be the youngest! Jeongguk, right?” Jeongguk nodded shyly, Hoseok heard Yoongi scoff from beside him. “Wow, you’re so cute.”

Jeongguk flushed. “Thanks. So are you. Don’t worry, ‘Joon, I’m not trying to steal your guy.” Hoseok howled at the speechless look written on Namjoon’s face and the way that Jeongguk’s features had morphed into a mischievous expression.

“He could never win me over, ‘Joon,” Seokjin agreed, a similar look of innocent mischief forming on his face. “Not with your poetry kept in my heart.”

“And on your person,” Hoseok called out, eyeing the bulge in Seokjin’s coat pocket. “I’m keeping my side of the deal.”

Seokjin grinned whilst Namjoon eyed them warily, and then understood. He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “You’re kidding me,” he sighed heavily and Hoseok laughed, leaning into Yoongi who chuckled with him.

“Don’t worry, ‘Joon, it’ll be worth it!” Seokjin got out after laughing extremely loudly causing many passer-by’s to look over in alarm. “We get to hear another one of Hoseok’s amazing haiku’s.”

Hoseok flushed slightly at the praise but also at the haiku in question. There was no way that he could have forgotten any of the lyrics or poems he had once written about Yoongi, they were etched into every inch of his brain, every crevice of his heart. “It’s really not-”

“No,” Yoongi interrupted. “It is. It’s really good.” His voice was soft, not imposing. Hoseok felt himself relax at the comfort laced in Yoongi’s tone.

“As much as I love you guys being cute,” Jeongguk spoke up and smiled at them. Hoseok looked away and at the floor, it was quite embarrassing with everyone peering at them. “I’m quite hungry.”

“Should we go in and get a table and not order until Tae shows up?” Hoseok offered. Everyone seemed keen on the idea so he opened the door of the restaurant and led them inside.

Hoseok was about to ask for a table for six but then with a flash of guilt he remembered Jimin. If there was any chance that Jimin would be joining them, he would like for there to be an opportunity for all of them to sit together rather than Jimin feeling excluded.

They were shown to a table of eight and had their chairs moved out for them. It seemed that Italian restaurants tended to be classy, suddenly Hoseok felt terribly underdressed. Yoongi positioned himself opposite Hoseok and unbuttoned his coat to reveal a thick jumper and snug fitting jeans. He looked adorable and Hoseok felt an urge to order a hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream for Yoongi to try.

“Did Tae text any of you?” Seokjin asked once they were all seated and had explained their situation to the staff.

Hoseok reached into his jacket pocket and checked his phone. The only messages he hadn’t opened were from a Science group chat. He had received nothing from Taehyung. He cast his eyes over to Jeongguk whose tongue was probing his left cheek worriedly as his eyes latched onto his phone. Had Taehyung contacted Jeongguk?

“He hasn’t messaged me or the group chat,” Yoongi responded, tucking his phone back into his coat pocket. He caught Hoseok’s gaze and smiled, his eyes flicking down to the elaborate menu which lay in front of him. Yoongi was nervous. How adorable.

“What about you, ‘Guk?” Namjoon asked, obviously having noticed that Jeongguk was staring at his screen in concern.

Jeongguk blinked up at them. “Oh, Tae? Yeah, he messaged me... He said that he’s sorry that he’s running a little late but he’ll be here soon.” He shot them all a reassuring smile but Hoseok saw the worry lingering in his eyes. What was Jeongguk not telling them? What else had Taehyung said to him?

He didn’t get a chance to ask though as the waiters returned to ask for their drink order and to explain that they would come back to take their friends’ order once he had arrived. Hoseok peered at the menu and ordered a fizzy drink that he had never heard of, it was Italian. It tasted nice. It seemed more authentic than other fruit-flavoured drinks he had tried before.

Hoseok was about to lightly kick Yoongi under the table to gain his attention, to ask if he wanted to order a hot chocolate with him when the door opened. Hoseok craned his neck to see if it was who he was expecting, and he smiled when seeing Taehyung enter. But there was something wrong, he had stopped and turned around to talk to someone... But who?

Taehyung looked over his shoulder at the table and smiled, then he faced the person again and said something. The two approached the group shortly afterwards. Hoseok’s face broke into a grin as relief poured through him. “Jimin!” He cried, jumping out of his seat.

“Easy there, tiger,” Namjoon laughed at him as some of his drink sloshed out of his glass when his knees hit the table. But he didn’t much care, he had only realised just how much he had missed Jimin and how happy he was to see the other.

Jimin smiled at him in the same manner as always, cockily and cheekily, as if he knew something that Hoseok didn’t. Hoseok wouldn’t have it any other way. “Hey, ‘Seok,” Jimin greeted, and then nodded at everyone. “I’m sorry I haven’t been on the group chat. I haven’t used my phone much recently. Tae, here, told me I should come today to see you guys.” Jimin flushed suddenly and dropped his eyes. “I’ve missed you all.”

Taehyung threw an arm around Jimin and squeezed him. Hoseok frowned, something clicking inside his mind. He watched Jeongguk’s reaction instead, saw him watch the scene with narrowed eyes. Uh oh.

“We’ve missed you, too!” Hoseok called, redirecting everyone’s attention to him. “Sit down, sit down!”

“We’ve waited long enough for you, and we’re all hungry,” Seokjin quipped and then proceeded to laugh at his own joke. Namjoon snorted whilst rolling his eyes fondly and then laughed with him. Hoseok’s heart softened seeing this display. He wondered if Namjoon had told Seokjin he was in love with him.

Love. His eyes darted from Namjoon to the seat next to him. It was where Yoongi sat.

Hoseok almost audibly sighed in relief when the waiters returned with enthusiastic beams. He was desperate for a distraction from the stirrings in his heart. The more he thought about it, the more likely he would slip up and he would have to refrain from doing so. He had already made many mistakes with Yoongi, and he was not about to make another one he could easily prevent.

He focussed his attention on the menu instead. What did he want for the main course? Spaghetti, of course, he was in an Italian restaurant. Spaghetti bathed in ripe tomatoes and fresh basil. Remember that old Disney film with those dogs? The spaghetti kiss, one of the most romantic clichés.

Yoongi ordered the same as him. He met Yoongi’s gaze and smiled. His heart clenched when Yoongi smiled back, so soft and serene.

Oh, god. Oh, god. There was no rethinking it, no realising that he had made a mistake and correcting himself, like how he had done when he wrote it carelessly but meaning it with every beat of his heart in the group chat. It was in every breath he took, every smile he saved for the other, every jump his heart made when Yoongi smiled back and in every throb of his pulse when Yoongi touched him.

Hoseok was in love with Yoongi, and he had never been more fucked.

That boy’s an angel, I don’t want him to like me; Angel’s shouldn’t fall.

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avengerdragoness · 7 years

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Trauma and Healing: PTSD [Jason Todd x Reader]

A/n: So sorry this took so long to get out. I had a bit of trouble getting this done, just experienced a bit of writers block with it. I hope you guys like it!

Italicized = Flashback

Warnings: Mental Illness (PTSD), Mentions of abuse, flashback to abuse

Tagging: @cherryignacio @queen-of-all-the-fandoms @crazyfangirl1810

(I’ve started tagging in my series fics, if you’re interested message me loves)

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6 - Ch. 7 - Ch. 8 - Ch. 9 - Alternate Ending

________

Ch. 4 PTSD

The way the needle slid into your skin felt exactly like it did when your captors used to drug you. A prick of pain that never changes no matter how many times it happens. You felt the blood begin to be pulled from the vein. As the blood began to slip away so did your connection to your mind.

You struggled against the men holding you down. A blood curdling scream erupted from your throat, you’re having one of your episodes that accompany the voices. They screamed in your head as you thrashed and fought.

“Hold her still!” A man yelled, flicking a syringe that had an antipsychotic in it.

“We can’t! The crazy bitch is strong!” One of the lackeys growled as you only thrashed and screamed harder. “Then knock some sense into her!” The man wielding the syringe yelled again.

One of the men grabbed the back of your neck while the other sent a slug across your cheek. The pain made you freeze enough for the man to plunge the syringe into into your vein. The sedative knocking you out and the drug blocking out the voices.

“[F/n]!” Feeling a jolt of someone shaking your shoulder brought you back. The moment you snapped back to reality you yanked the needle IV out of your arm. Standing so fast the chair toppled over behind you. Now realizing your labored breathing and the thin layer of sweat on your brow.

Scanning the room you saw them all staring at you. Noticing how Jason and Roy were now in front of you rather than the wall. Concluding that one of them or Kori had been the one to snap you out of the flashback. Feeling as their eye bore into your skin, “W-why are you staring at me? W-why are you..?” trailing off to catch your breath.

Not being able to take their eyes anymore you pushed by them all and ran out of the apartment. Faintly hearing someone yell for you to ‘wait,’ but you were too far to hear who it was.

Stomping down the stairs to reach the main doors to the apartment building. Rushing out you picked a direction and just ran. Following wherever the sidewalk took you. The images of the flashback rushing through your head, not realizing the gash you caused by yanking out the IV earlier. Blood stained the sleeve of the sweater Kori lent you.

Winding a corner into an alley you pressed your back against the brick wall, struggling to get air into your lungs. Feeling tears pool into your eyes, letting out a small whimper you squatted down, hiding your face in your hands. Small whimpers and cries escaping your throat.

Wiping the tears from your face, you stood up. Tucking your hands in your pockets while exiting the alleyway. Eyes searching the surrounding to only discover you were lost. You had been running mindlessly, not knowing exactly what triggered that fight or flight response.

Looking down, noticing the blood on the sweater. You rolled up your sleeve so the blood wasn’t visible any longer. Letting out a sigh you looked side to side before picking a direction and beginning to walk. Hands shoved further in your pockets, bowing your head to avoid eye contact with passersby. Walking what felt like the whole city as daylight passed over your head. Watching as the sky would begin to darken gradually as the sun crossed the sky.

Jason had run out after you, finding the sidewalk busy but without you on it. Swearing to himself he heard Roy and Kori coming out after him. “You guys search that way, I’ll go this way” he called before running off. Roy and Kori couldn’t get a single word in, it’s strange for him to act this impulsive. Yes, Jason works on instinct but he’s usually more calculated. Roy and Kori simply exchanged a look, running in the direction they were told.

They need to find you and fast. With your powers being unstable who knows what could set them off.

“Dammit Kori what have we done? We promised to protect her and now she’s lost in the city. Some protectors we are.” Roy growled, beating himself up over the matter. They promised to protect you and now, you’re lost in the city somewhere.

“You mustn’t think like that Roy. We will find her. There wasn’t any stopping her from those tests. Now let's think, if you needed to calm down, where would you go in Coast City?” She questioned as they continued to look. Roy smiled, “Kori you’re a genius! Let’s go!” diverting their direction toward the coast. Something about the ocean seemed to calm almost anyone down, this was the best lead they had.

They came up to a nearby beach, taking the path that would’ve been the most likely for you to have taken. Both sets of eyes scanned the beach until Kori’s gaze landed on your back. “There” she pointed, seeing you with your knees pulled to your chest. Just staring out at the endless blue. The sun was setting, leaving the sky a mix of soft pinks and reds. It was very relaxing, they could see why you were drawn here.

Approaching you cautiously, Kori broke you out of your trance gently. “[F/n]” she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. Though your body acted on it’s own as you jerked away, quickly turning to face them. Breathing labored like earlier, they had just pulled you out of another flashback. One back to a night your captors had you ‘working.’

“Easy, it’s just us” Roy spoke comfortingly, trying to calm your nerves. It worked, your breathing leveled while looking at the two people you consider friends. “[F/n] are you alright? What happened?” he asked.

You simply diverted your eyes, “I-I don’t want to talk about it.” Scratching at your arm nervously. They were suspicious, why couldn’t they get you to open up? But all honesty this is only your second day staying with them. It’s not surprising you’re being reserved, they just worry about you.

Kori’s eyes traced down your arms, vision catching the blood. “Oh my gosh!” she took your arm and pushed the sleeve up, revealing a semi deep gash. “Let’s get you back to the apartment and get this cleaned up.” She offered. Hesitantly you nodded.

They led you back to the apartment. Roy had called Jason and told him to meet them there. You were able to hear how frantic Jason was over the phone, was he really that worried about you? Jason was the one you’ve gotten closest to so far, but you didn’t think that he cared so much.

Coming into the apartment you heard boots bounding. Soon enough you were engulfed in a hug and by that familiar scent of cigarettes, gun powder, and green apple. A once again, rather comforting combination.

You wanted nothing more to relish in Jason's scent but you couldn’t. Pushing out of his arms you smiled shyly before going past him and into the bathroom. You couldn’t face them right now, especially having heard Batman and Green Arrow in the apartment when you returned. You couldn’t face the people you consider friends, how could you face those two?

Kori and Roy stared at Jason as you walked by him. He rose an eyebrow at them “What?” They just smirked and shrugged before meeting Bruce and Oli in the living room.

“You found her?” Oliver asked with his bow slung over his shoulder. Roy nodded, “Yeah, we found her at the beach. She was zoning, I’m worried about her.”

“Well, from the way she had that attack, it seems like she has PTSD.” Oliver offered up an explanation. “That makes sense, she did go through hell and back.” Jason stated while looking over at his teammates. “What about the tests? Did you get anything from them?”

Bruce nodded, “She’s definitely a meta, but the gene isn’t enhancing her physically, more mentally. Which might be another explanation of these voices she has been hearing.” He stated bluntly. Eyes staying glued on Jason before both his and Oliver’s alerts went off, telling them the league needs them.

“We’ll tell her. You both go.” Roy nodded before the two made their leave. Of course they used the window.

“Who should tell [F/n]?” Kori asked looking at the boys. “Jay I think you should, you have her trust the most.” Roy appealed while looking at the marksman. Jason nodded before heading to the bathroom door, he knocked lightly, Roy and Kori only a few feet behind him. When you didn’t answer he knocked on the door again and called your name. No answer again.

He sighed, turning the knob to see it was unlocked, “[F/n] I’m coming in” he called before peering his head in. Finding the bathroom empty “What the hell?” whispering while walking in.

“Where is she now?” Roy looked around the empty bathroom, concern evident in his voice. Jason stuck his head out the open window, seeing the fire escape ladders leading up to the roof down. “I know where she is, I’ll be right back” Jason grunted while pulling himself out the window and onto the fire escape.

He climbed the ladders, peeking his head over the ledge. Noticing you sitting on the ledge with your knees pulled to your chest, bringing a cigarette to and from your lips. He had left a pack and lighter up here. Having told you about it the prior night.

Carefully he came up beside you, “May I?” he questioned pointing to the box. You gestured to it “They’re yours.” He chuckled taking one out and lighting it up. You both stayed there in a comfortable silence, enjoying the taste the tobacco left on your tongue.

“They got the results” Jason broke the silence as you let out the drag you just took. “Yeah? What’d they say?” asking meekly. “It’s positive you’re a meta, but your powers are focused mentally more than physically.” he explained simply. Making it short and sweet for you. Jason examined your face as silence fell between you once more. Telling by the look in your face that you were contemplating or remembering something.

“You know, I died once” tilting his head towards you. Your eyes shot to meet his, “You what?” confusion laced in your tone. Jason simply nodded, “It was when I was still Robin. Bats saved me from the streets, but the Joker, he tricked me into coming to find my mother but it was a trap. I ended up beaten and bloodied with a crowbar on the floor of an abandoned warehouse. Then after I passed I was revived with the Lazarus Pit in Nanda Parbat. Since then I’ve taken a different approach to serving justice, I’m not afraid to take a life if need be. Not that I try to, it’s only if it’s necessary.” His eyes diverting down to his hands.

“Like the man that kept me?” You questioned, [e/c] eyes locked on him. He nodded, “It was either shoot him or let him shoot you. It wasn’t a hard decision.” His comment made you blush. “[F/n] I know what it feels like to feel unwanted, to feel lost and cast out. Trust me I do, so I want you to know that no matter what you can talk to me.” He took your hand in his, “You’re important to me-I mean us. Roy, Kori, and I.”

The blush burned bright red on your face, you simply nodded, not trusting your voice. “Thank you Jason, that means a lot. You’re important to me too.” Gently smiling at him.

He nodded, “Alright. Well, we should be getting back inside before it gets too cold. Plus Roy and Kori are worried about you. Plus lets get that gash bandaged.” Jason smiled at you. Snuffing out your cigarette and re-hiding the box you followed him back down the fire escape. Having a newfound trust in Jason, now knowing his past. When you got back into the apartment, Roy and Kori ended up telling you about their pasts and how they all became the Outlaws as well. It felt nice knowing all of this about them. It made things more intimate between the four of you. It makes you feel safe.

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radiohorizon · 7 years

Text

38 years later

[ I Believe In ] 169: Love at first sight: i dunno 168: Luck: yes 167: Fate: yes 166: Yourself: lmao no 165: Aliens: yes 164: Heaven: i think 163: Hell: yes 162: God: i believe in something 161: Horoscopes: im not sure 160: Soul mates: yes 159: Ghosts: yes 158: Gay Marriage: duh 157: War: i dont really know 156: Orbs: yes 155: Magic: yes

[ This or That ] 154: Hugs or Kisses: hugs 153: Drunk or High: high 152: Phone or Online: depends 151: Red heads or Black haired: dont care 150: Blondes or Brunettes: dont care 149: Hot or cold: cold 148: Summer or winter: summer 147: Autumn or Spring: autumn 146: Chocolate or vanilla: depends because i love chocolate but it gives me headaches 145: Night or Day: night 144: Oranges or Apples: oranges 143: Curly or Straight hair: honestly dont care 142: McDonalds or Burger King: burger king for burgers, mcdonalds for snack wrap 141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: milk chocolate 140: Mac or PC: PC 139: Flip flops or high heals: depends 138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: sweet and poor 137: Coke or Pepsi: coke 136: Hillary or Obama: OBAMA OBAMA OBAMA OBAMA OBAMA OBAMA  135: Burried or cremated: buried in the cemetery up the road from where i live 134: Singing or Dancing: dancing 133: Coach or Chanel: dont care 132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: who are they? 131: Small town or Big city: small town 130: Wal-Mart or Target: how bout kohls 129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: adam Sandler 128: Manicure or Pedicure: manicure because im reallllly ticklish on my feet and i end up flinching the whole time 127: East Coast or West Coast: only ever been on the east coast so idrk 126: Your Birthday or Christmas: christmas 125: Chocolate or Flowers: chocolate 124: Disney or Six Flags: disney!!! 123: Yankees or Red Sox: how bout Orioles

[ Here’s What I Think About ] 122: War: i respect the people fighting for our country and for others, but i wish everyone could just stop killing eachother 121: George Bush: gross 120: Gay Marriage: Gaaaaayyyyyy 119: The presidential election: grosser 118: Abortion: no judgement on whether or not someone decides to get one. Personally i dont think i could, but will always vote pro choice 117: MySpace: never had one so idk 116: Reality TV: can be entertaining but usually really dumb 115: Parents: i love them more than anything 114: Back stabbers: fuck you 113: Ebay: sketchy 112: Facebook: people are annoying and i hate that i live in hick central 111: Work: dont have ajob but am trying to get one 110: My Neighbors: since 3 of my best friends are my neighbors, i guess theyre alright 109: Gas Prices: way too fucking high 108: Designer Clothes: dont care about them UNLESS its converse because thats my shit right there 107: College: start it in 5 months :( 106: Sports: love em but suck at em 105: My family: my rock and support, but they piss me off a lot 104: The future: scares the fuck out of me

[ Last time I ] 103: Hugged someone: a few ninutes ago 102: Last time you ate: few hours ago 101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: about 2-3 weeks ago at the gym 100: Cried in front of someone: a few weeks ago i cried in front of abby because i found out kelsey has a girlfriend 99: Went to a movie theater: two weekends ago and saw Get Out and holy shit its good 98: Took a vacation: 2-3 years ago 97: Swam in a pool: 2 years ago i think 96: Changed a diaper: never 95: Got my nails done: little over a month ago 94: Went to a wedding: last summer 93: Broke a bone: never 92: Got a peircing: last spring 91: Broke the law: never i think? 90: Texted: about 2 seconds ago i texted Lacey

[ MISC ] 89: Who makes you laugh the most: My lunch table 88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my cats and my moms hugs 87: The last movie I saw: i saw get out in theaters but watched thunderbirds for the millionth time in art so im a happy camper 86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: getting the fuck away from this place and these memories 85: The thing im not looking forward to: graduating, starting college, moving away, leaving my friends, leaving my animals, growing up, the list could go on forever 84: People call me: elizabeth, beth, bethany, lizzy, liz, bethyboo, bethers, bethy, 83: The most difficult thing to do is: move on and let go 82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: nope 81: My zodiac sign is: pisces 80: The first person i talked to today was: lacey or bea idrk 79: First time you had a crush: kindergarten 78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: no one, im pretty good with keeping a good face on 77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: i have no idea 76: Right now I am talking to: Lace💜👑 75: What are you going to do when you grow up: homicide detective or BAU 74: I have/will get a job: soon hopefully 73: Tomorrow: school, test, paint, facetime this beautiful girl, sleep 72: Today: school, test, painted, studied 71: Next Summer: senior weeek🤙🏻 and hopefully just simple hangouts with friends 70: Next Weekend: Stevenson university visit 69: I have these pets: 2 cats (sadie and ziva) and 1 dog (westen oliver) 68: The worst sound in the world: hearing people chew or breathe hard 67: The person that makes me cry the most is: my ex 66: People that make you happy: my friends and parents 65: Last time I cried: last night 64: My friends are: the only reason im alive 63: My computer is: a Windows something 62: My School: sucks 61: My Car: doesnt exist 60: I lose all respect for people who: judge others with no reason and refuse to be nice 59: The movie I cried at was: if I stay and hunger games trilogy 58: Your hair color is: dirty blonde/ light brown 57: TV shows you watch: criminal minds, shameless, the 100, friends, the fosters, lie to me, NCIS, scooby doo 56: Favorite web site: tumblr  55: Your dream vacation: a lake house 54: The worst pain I was ever in was: recovery after my heart surgery and when they had to take out my chest tubes 53: How do you like your steak cooked: medium 52: My room is: messy but my favorite place 51: My favorite celebrity is: jennifer lawrence or ryan Reynolds or josh hucherson or Noel Fisher 50: Where would you like to be: childhood 49: Do you want children: yes 48: Ever been in love: ye 47: Who’s your best friend: the twins, fergs, abby, rat pack, stevie, hailey, bea 46: More guy friends or girl friends: girl friends 45: One thing that makes you feel great is: gaining more flexibility 44: One person that you wish you could see right now: jarred 43: Do you have a 5 year plan: not really 42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: sorta 41: Have you pre-named your children: yepp. Daesin, Fiona, tegan and ryan 40: Last person I got mad at: my dad 39: I would like to move to: maryland or deleware 38: I wish I was a professional: dancer

[ My Favorites ] 37: Candy: gummy bears and kit kats or smarties 36: Vehicle: jeep Cherokee  35: President: OBAMA 34: State visited: Florida 33: Cellphone provider: dunno 32: Athlete: Misty Copeland 31: Actor: Ryan Reynolds and Noel Fisher 30: Actress: Jennifer Lawrence 29: Singer: Amy Lee 28: Band: Evanescence 27: Clothing store: KOHLS 26: Grocery store: giant 25: TV show: shameless 24: Movie: thunderbirds or chitty chitty bang bang 23: Website: tumblr 22: Animal: monkey 21: Theme park: disney 20: Holiday: halloween 19: Sport to watch: allstar cheerleading or soccer 18: Sport to play: soccer 17: Magazine: dont have one but if i did i guess people? 16: Book: WAYYY too many 15: Day of the week: wednesday 14: Beach: bethany beach 13: Concert attended: evanescence even tho i couldnt see shit 12: Thing to cook: grilled cheese 11: Food: cheeseburger 10: Restaurant: green turtle 9: Radio station: 106.5 8: Yankee candle scent: i dunno 7: Perfume: hollister or ed hardy 6: Flower: rose 5: Color: purple 4: Talk show host: my girl ellen 3: Comedian: john Maloney, kevin heart, illiza shelshinger  2: Dog breed: golden retriever  1: Did you answer all these truthfully? Yeppers

#asks #asks answers #💜👑

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monster-pirate · 8 years

Text

Site Write Finale: Just Out of Reach

Be sure to listen to the tracks that I put next to the parts!

I. Click Here

Vivvienne’s eyes gazed over the horizon as the wind whipped her hair around her face, making it look as much like fire in the dying light of the sun. She was almost there. In a childish urge to look upon her dreams she had started to climb one of the tallest trees near her home. Daring to go even higher, she planted a shaking foot on one of the swaying branches. She needed to see more than just the tops of trees and thatched roofs of her tiny hamlet. The creaking wood had begun to taper out into a quivering whip as her weight dared to make it bend even more. Nevertheless her eyes did not leave that horizon and the sun that had begun to set on that far away sea, sparkling like a thousand jewels just out of reach. The beating heart within her chest yearned for life beyond this small Hamlet and that horizon seemed to promise every bit of adventure that she could ever hope for. She loved her family, but to be here forever would mean a life without adventure, without peril and without success.

Its siren call pulled her forward, upward onto thinner branches so that she could see more. Although her heart told her to climb, her body began to warn her of the dangers to come. She had never climbed so high in her life and tears stung her eyes while her own limbs began to shake like the branches below. Holding onto a branch with one hand, she reached out to feel the caress of the wind. She closed her eyes and let her fingers drift through the air. It was as if she could fly.

Snap

The snap of the branch below her broke her out of her reverie and made the hand that was already holding onto a branch tighten in fear. Her fantasy was no more and the reality of the situation came crashing down around her. Her other hand groped for the branch that she held tight to, but it bent further, and further until it too snapped near the trunk of the tree and Vivvienne was sent tumbling through the branches of the tree and to the ground. Is this what it means to dream?

II. Click Here

She had survived the fall, only a broken arm to remind her of her troubles, reprimanding her for trying to think beyond her own reality. However a time came when she was able to find that horizon, to look upon that glittering sea with a renewed hope and an assurance that this was possible. Her adventures were guided by the love and support of her parents, once more making her feel invincible and like her heart was flying.

Snap.

The scourge had invaded Quel’thalas. Like so many others, she was left in the dark about those she had left behind, unguarded from the walls of Dalaran. She had done everything that she could to leave the city and return to her homeland. Her heart flew once more with vigor, hoping to see her family once more. She thought that she would be greeted with smiles and hugs. Grateful friends and parents would wrap their arms around her and she would be safe no matter what the coming days would bring. However there was no homecoming, no hugs, no kisses, not even a smile. As she neared her little hamlet, the smell of smoke and death became very clear to her. Did her dreams make this happen? Was the hope of something more too much? Her heart was racing as the hypothetical branches below her became ever thinner and weaker. The sight that she was greeted with was one of blackness, fire and destruction. There was nothing. Her feet carried her through the charred ruins of thatched houses and bones. It was as if she were falling all over again. It was as if nature itself had abandoned this place. There were no sounds of birds, grass waving in the wind or even the wind itself. She didn’t even hear her own feet as they met the ground with increasing speed.

Her home, when she had finally reached it had been razed to the ground. Tears began to blurr her vision as she stood among the wreckage and ruin. If it weren’t for the copper wash bowl at her feet, she wouldn’t have even known that this place had belonged to her family. Her body felt stiff and it seemed as though she had no longer inhabited it. It was only a shell. She hadn’t noticed herself fall to her knees, or how her hands began to churn through the ash and mud to find something, any sign that her parents had gotten out. There was a strange sound, a wailing that met her ears as she dug through the earth with increasing fervor. It was her. This wailing drove her, made her dig even further and wildly. She only stopped when her fingers hit something solid. Metal. An amulet. Her eyes went wide as she snatched the precious item from the ground and brushed it off. This was something that was worn every day, put on every morning without hesitation. It meant the world to the wearer. It was her father’s.

III. Click here

As time went on the sting of her parents’ demise was clouded, lessened by the routine of her new practice. Her apprenticeship had been a rocky one, but it seemed that the darker arts of the Fel had suited her much more than the arcane ever had. She had begun a new life. This one had been filled with a lust for flesh, decadence and most of all, power. These new sirens called out for her, clouding her thoughts of revenge for her parents. The sickly sweet whispers of the Fel had quieted her thoughts of revenge because how could this one little elf take on the entire Scourge? That is...how could she take on the scourge without consuming even more of that wonderful drug?

There was very little time that wasn’t spent in one of the verdant, smoke filled dens below Murder Row. Her ears constantly rang with the dull roar of her heartbeat as she soared to unseen horizons in her mind, accompanied by the muffled, wet sounds of the coupling all around her. In her mind, each crystal that she absorbed became one more step to becoming all powerful. In her mind she was defeating every single creature that had dared touch her homeland. In reality she lay useless, nearly catatonic on one of the many cushions that the drug dens of silvermoon offered. Each time that she woke up and found that her dreams were not real, that she had stayed tucked away in the dark this entire time only made her crave more. She simply needed more. Luckily for her, Severian always had more.

The more that she consumed, the more power she insisted ran dormant through her veins. It was a wonder that anyone outside of her slimy dealer had known that she existed at all though there were a few.

Crack.

Into the den burst Samtok with a small detail of men. He knew that she would be there. He never asked her just where she disappeared to at night, but he knew and he was going to make her see the light.

“Grab her.”

The goblin ordered the muscled men and with little resistance they waded through the piles of elves on top of each other, their faces growing more disgusted by the minute. With ease they plucked her from her pillow and returned to Sam with her in one of their arms. How easily her frail frame would be carried back to Dalaran. That would be the only thing that came easy.

Vivvienne awoke with ropes tied to her wrists and ankles with enough length to turn and move, but not enough to leave the finely made bed that she was now confined to. A blurred gaze turned to find Samtok at her bedside, standing from a chair and looking down on her with a mix of pity and disgust.

“You need this. It’s for your own good.”

Without another word he left her side and then the room with a final and resounding click.

A guttural screech left the woman as had never been heard before while her hands and legs strained against the rope that bound her so roughly. She tried to burn through her bonds, but in her rage a proper spell was hardly uttered. Fire popped and fizzled around her as the pre-enchanted room saved anything from catching fire. Her muscles tensed as she thrashed and cursed into the air, all to aware of what was going to come next. Samtok had prepared her for a long night of detoxification. Her high would fall, leaving her to crash through every step on the way down. Such was the price of her ill-gotten dreams.

IV. Click Here

Her life had been long lived. Many twists, turns, loves and losses had filled the gap between her birth and the present. Hundreds of years ago, Vivvienne had begun the very long path to nobility with the aide of Izulde Netherstar and now she lived in the golden years of her reign over a wide acreage of land. A marquess in her own right, built up from the very bottom. It had taken time and there were sacrifices to be made, but in the end as she looked out of the stone window of her keep, she couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her chest.

The window overlooked that same sea of so long ago. It was still there, calling her towards adventure and new opportunities. A nagging thought tugged at the back of her mind. She had completed her life’s work, right? No. There was still so much to claim. She had power, but the thing was, no power was ever enough.

Her hand touched the sill of the window as she neared it, the butterflies in her stomach telling her to reach out once more. She had. Her hand reached through political quagmire and turmoil to pull herself up to where she was and no matter how high, just one more branch was just out of reach. Her eyes looked out at the sparkling sea once more, all of the memories flooding back into her mind about that first dream. The yearning for adventure, doing whatever it took to get there. This day dream had her in a daze, unable to hear the soft footsteps behind her.

Shink.

Vivvienne’s eyes widened as she felt a dagger slide so neatly into her back and pierce her lungs. A ragged breath escaped her mouth before the assassin behind her wrapped his hand around it and gently eased her down to the ground. In her mind she was falling further than she had before, even though the ground was just below her feet. The blade slipped out of her back and the assassin laid her down on her back, a pool of blood forming below her. Her eyes began to dim and glaze over, the light of the setting sun over the stones in the hallway the last image that she would ever get to see. At least the light was warm. It invited her on one last grand adventure as her eyes shut for the final time.

The problem with power was...everyone was just reaching one step higher. Some went to greater lengths to capture that next branch. She was no stranger to this, but it seemed as though there would be no more reaching for Vivvienne Duskcatcher.

#Site Write Finale #Site Write #My writing #Vivvienne #YAY I MADE IT

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anonwords · 4 years

Text

may 31 2020

as if the world wasnt already in a state of unrest, cops went and killed another black man. George Floyd. they knelt on his throat for 10 minutes. 10. they also pushed Regis Korchinski-Paquet off her balcony, killing her. and they killed Tony McDade, a trans man. the first riots were in Minneapolis, where george was killed. then within a week, 25 US cities were rioting. peaceful at first, but cops posing as protesters started destroying businesses and inciting violence, leading to full on violence from protesters, leading ultimately to cops using force to disperse the crowds. Ive seen photos of people shot in the head with rubber bullets, someone lost their eye, my cousin was maced in the face. at least 15 states have curfews in their cities, and the cops are relentless. I don’t know whether to believe real change is coming, or maybe this will all blow over in a month, and everything will go back to the way it was. one thing is for sure though: all cops are bastards, and the cops will pay with their blood for the blood of the people of color and specifically black people, which they so easily have spilled on the streets since America’s inception.

the virus isnt helping the whole protesting movement, I just know theres gonna be spikes all over the country. the virus does seem to be slowing in parts of the world, but the ever looming second wave has yet to begin. south korea has some of the lowest numbers of infection since their rise and new zealand has completely gotten rid of it. the whole damn country is without infection. meanwhile in america any effort led by the govt to test people has been a complete farce. trump says nothing can be done, and when twitter fact checks two of his tweets, executive orders two days later to combat them. i really hope we as a nation can see where his priorities lie, and we need to vote him out. btw when asked what will the govt do about the protesters, he said and i quote: “when the looting starts, the shooting starts!” i really hope they kill this man.

josh says if nothing pans out by august for a place to live with group members, he wants me and him to get a place together, which i totally agree with. I can just keep saving and when they open the dmv’s i can get my license, and i can live up there on my own. god its all i want. to be free. Im so ready. ive been talking to josh more frequently through phone calls and its nice to talk to someone who just loves all forms of art and understands on my level. our convos would go on forever when we were together, and i really miss that. just drinking and smoking and being chill. when the state is in phase 3, we want to drive up to san francisco, me, him, ian, and maybe donald. ive never been that far up the coast and the city has so much rich gay history ive always wanted to see for myself. Ian said i was really sweet and no ones called me that in a long time. it made me feel really good and i was smiling the whole day. ian is very straight, not even a hint of femininity in his deep voice, but he’d be the perfect twink. not too perfect though because he is light skinned, but still very cute.

I had a dream last night that i was at a party with my friends, and i was in a room full of people in a house ive never been to before. there was this girl who was very pretty and basically exactly my type. she was very thin, short, had black hair that went to her shoulders, glasses, and she dressed like daria’s best friend. she had pretty brown eyes, light skin, very pretty smile, and a perfect cute little nose. EXACTLY my type. my subconscious was on my side for once. now that i think about it, she kind of looked like this girl from high school who i had a crush on. still kinda do. anyways she kept glancing at me from across the room and when our eyes would meet she’d smile and i would smile back, with a cool nod. she ate that shit up. finally i went to take a piss. i had my dick in my hands and she comes into the tiny bathroom and puts her hands over my eyes, and says “guess who?”. before i could say anything, she takes her hands off my eyes, and grabs my dick, still in my hands from peeing. i said “woahh” and she giggles and smiles. she starts stroking me and i waddle over to the sink to wash my hands, with her still stuck to my back, my dick still in her hands. i start to get hard, i look down and my dick is now fully engorged in her hands, my dick never looked so tasty. my dream cuts to us making out in the hallway, and i keep instinctively putting my leg up to her thigh, like i was the sub and she was the dom. i had to keep reminding myself i was in charge, and i had to be big and strong, so i stopped. then we cut to her on a bed, me on top of her, the room was glowing red. i started eating her out. i vividly remember the way it felt. my tongue was exploring every nook, every cranny, every part of her. my lips were so soft but she felt softer, and i could feel my tongue going deeper into her, my mouth filling with her cum, and i would let it drip out my mouth, to get her wetter and sloppier. she was writhing around with pleasure, pleasure only i could give her. then my dream took the weirdest fucking turn when marge simpson of the simpsons was on the other side of the bed, behind me, asking me to fuck her. this was not the marge simpson from the show, as she had the fattest ass ive ever seen, and didnt even sound like her at all. she was sitting on the bed in such a way that her dripping vagina was facing me, and she kept asking me to fuck her. in my head i was trying to come up with a polite way of saying i dont fuck moms, but the girl was down for a threesome. so i finally agreed and the girl was gonna ride me while i ate marge but i said no because i was afraid i was gonna cum. but then marge somehow found out i didnt want to fuck her and she left in mr burns’ car. so then me and the girl cuddled for a while and that felt great. she was so soft and smelled so good and i think i kissed her neck a few time. but then she had to leave and started saying goodbye. i asked for her insta and gave her my phone so she could follow herself. then i walked her out to her uber or friends car, i dont remember who it was, and on the way out i could hear a song from the watchmen soundtrack, and i knew cesar was showing some girl the first episode of the series. then i was in front of the house and the street was really pretty with trees everywhere and it was really windy, and we said goodbye. i think wt one point i even asked “where are we?”. i think some stuff happened after that but i dont remember. i woke up wanting a girl, something i havent wanted for a long time. i dont know how to feel about it, but that was the nicest dream ive had in months. i hope my subconscious is good to me that way from now on.

i forgot to mention in the beginning im 21 now. i can buy alcohol and walk into dispensaries now, not that that was a problem before. im getting older and i often think about how i want to die. and i keep coming to the same conclusion that when the time comes, i want to kill myself. that won’t be for a long time though, at least. say one day the doctor tells me i have x amount of months/years to live. if im at a certain age where i feel like ive had a full life, i don’t want to waste away in some home, shitting myself and watching the days go by, i want to die still coherent, and continent at least. so maybe around 70 or so i’ll poison myself, while on mushrooms, so i can trip out and die in a world of color. i guess i never plan to marry or be in a serious relationship then. maybe for a while, but it will have to end someday. when i picture myself dying, its always by myself, by my pool, in my silk robe, having breakfast, smoking and drinking. then im just gone. i dont know if that’s supposed to be poetic or whatever, but its how id want to go. not surrounded by family because i expect them all to be dead when i go. i want to be admired for my storied career, and i want to be a relic of new old hollywood. loved and adored by people who are old or dead. i dont ever want to die in a hospital bed, i dont want to die battling some disease for years, when i feel its my time, i want to be in control of how i go. it will be hard for some but i plan on telling those i care most about about my plan so they’ll be ready. it will be so perfect, my death. on that day the sun will shine on my skin, and the warmth will be spectacular. the birds will chirp and the air will be so clean. my death will be clean. i plan to live a full life, and when i fell ive livedmy life to the fullest, thats when it will be my time.

#may 2020 #chain on/hold me feat. JPEGMAFIA #BR*CKHAMPT*N

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trendingnewsb · 7 years

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Dr. Daves Field Guide to Bad Cocktails

If the idea of sitting in a dark, elegant bar, lapping at a small, icy pool whose waters have a way of smoothing the furrows in your brow and oiling the trunnions of your tongue appeals to you, then as dark as these times may be there is at least one recompense. It is now possible to get a perfect cocktail, or close enough, in every city in America. Ten years ago, it was not. That is a positive good, then, and sometimes a very positive one indeed.

But it doesnt always go that way, though, does it? You do your part OKgetting to the bar, finding a seat, putting your damn phone away, ordering a drink, looking expectantand the bartender does a stylish job of picking bottles, measuring and mixing, and pours your drink into a steaming-cold glass with a precise, crisp flourish. Then you take a sip. Oh no. The drinks list billed this Transitive Nightfall of Diamonds as a subtly-accented take on the classic Dry Martini. What you got instead is potpourri-tasting gin, cilantro-infused vermouth and aggressive splashes of bitter gentian aperitif and crme de violette, with a huge swatch of bergamot peel squeezed over the top. It smells like Victorian hand soap. It tastes like Victorian hand soap. It costs $15, before tip.

The expansion of the Cocktail Renaissance (as its aficionados have come to call it) from a few bars in New York, San Francisco, Seattle and a couple of other places to hundredswho knows, thousands?of bars practically everywhere has depended on a concurrent expansion in the amount of bartending and mixological talent and knowledge. But good bartending has expanded not as air does when filling a balloon, where theres an equal amount of it in every part, but more like how Legos fill a hallway when, on your way to the bathroom in the middle of the night, you kick over the huge tub of them your kid left out. Although it doesnt happen with every step, every part of the hall holds the danger of putting your foot down on something fun that has turned diabolical.

What I mean to say is, not all tattooed young bartenders are the modern-day Jerry Thomases they think they are, and not every cocktail they make is the nectareous, brow-smoothing trunnion oil you hope for when you order it. Some, alas, are just plain bad.

The badness of many modern cocktails has been discussed widely and often, and by discussed I mean ranted about. Its easy to go off on the excesses of eager young mixologists who apparently watch too much Adventure Time and let its deadpan randomness infect the drinks they come up withlamb-fat washed rye-corn-barley eau de vie, citrus colloid, Indonesian palm sugar and brick dust, finished with a beet-Malibu foam; like that. What we need, however, is not more rants, as fun as they might be, but some basic science.

Before we can solve the problem of bad cocktails, we need to know the different ways a cocktail can go bad. We need a botany, a zoology, a classification. Every creeping thing that slideth over the bar must be known by his kind, that thou mayst order him no more. (I think it said that in the Bible somewhere, although I might be getting some of the words mixed up.)

Thats not a simple task. At first glance, it seems like cocktails follow Dostoyevskys happy-family rule; that the good ones are more or less all alike, or at least fall into a handful of common patterns (bitters-sugar-booze; bitters-vermouth-booze; sugar-citrus-booze, etc), and the bad ones are each awful in its own peculiar way.

Upon soberish reflection, though, one can identify two main realms of error, each with its inevitable subdivisions. The Strategic and the Tactical. Here, then, is a subjective, preliminary and open-ended attempt to sketch out the different ways mixed drinks can go bad. In this, Ive left out the main one, statistically speaking, which is the old Garbage In-Garbage Out: shoddy, artificial ingredients mixed sloppily together will rarely yield anything drinkable. Fortunately, most modern cocktail bars are out of that phase, at least. These, then, are higher-order errors, the kind you can make with booze that costs more than $20 a bottle and mixers that dont come out of a gun or a #5 can.

But before I get into the details, let me just say that as a mixologist Ive made drinks that fall into just about every one of the following categories and foisted them on the general public, whether at bars Ive consulted for, at charity events, at parties, during my occasional bartending shifts, or via the printed or pixelated word. I write, in other words, from inside the House of Bad. Its partly from making so many wrong drinks that Ive learned to make the occasional right one. Bearing that in mind, Im going to give examples here, some of mine, God help me, but many drawn from actual bars, lightly disguised (the purpose of this isnt to assign individual guilt, of which there is plenty to go around).

STRATEGIC ERRORS

Drinks with strategic errors will never be right because theyre wrong from the get-go; not even an Audrey Saunders, a Jim Meehan or an Alex Kratena, some of the top bartenders out there, could make them taste good without major surgery to the recipe. Here are a few of the most common mistakes.

Historical Errors

Warning signs: David Emburys recipe

Bad drinks, like disease, have always been with us. Some of them have interesting backstories. That does not mean they should be revived. Some of the most respected mixologists from the past, including Charles H. Baker, Jr., author of the legendary, and damned amusing, Gentlemans Companions, and particularly David Embury, the great theorist of mixing drinks, did not know how to balance a cocktail. Even the great 1930 Savoy Cocktail Book has far more wretched drinks in it than brilliant ones. Some whole periodsthe shockingly booze-forward 1950s; the sweet and sticky 70sare largely devoid of good drinks (the 70s ones, for instance, tend to require major surgery to make them drinkable, such as Jeffrey Morgenthalers addition of 125-proof Bookers Bourbon to the Amaretto Sour). You fish in these waters at your peril.

I learned this lesson back in 2005, when I was asked to provide an opening cocktail for a dinner featuring a few of New Yorks top French chefs, including Jacques Ppin and Andr Soltner, two of my culinary idols. I chose the Henri Souls Special, a drink recorded in Ted Sauciers 1951 drinks compendium Bottoms Up. Soul was the formidable presence behind Le Pavillon, New Yorks leading French restaurant in the 1940s and 1950s, and since Ppin had gotten his start in the city there I thought it would be an appropriate tribute.

Here, however, was the drink: 2.5 ounces Cognac, 1 teaspoon sugar, half a teaspoon lemon juice and two pieces of orange peel, shaken with ice and strained into a cocktail glass. OK, perhaps a trifle strong, I thought, but that was how they liked em then. That may have been true, but it was not how they liked em now: Ppin took one sip and left his on a convenient shrubbery-pot, and few people got through more than a few sips. They were right: the drink tasted like California jug wine fortified with rubbing alcohol. A good story does not fix a bad drink.

Also, see below under tactical errors.

Thematic Errors

Warning signs: garnishes fashioned to resemble known objects

A very fertile source of bad drinks is the idea that the drinks name should determine its ingredients. This can make for perfectly lovely drinkstake the Rob Roy, a Manhattan where Scotch whisky has been substituted for American ryebut it is risky, as it can lead to the choice of ingredients for reasons other than flavor and texture. A prime example is the drink I came across recently called the Indian Itch, where a few slices of the little, blisteringly-hot green Jwala pepper so common in Indian food were muddled in Indian rum, shaken with pineapple juice and a hearty pinch of curry powder (thats right, curry powder), strained into an ice-filled glass and topped with ginger ale. Yes, it conveyed the idea India. No, it did not also convey the idea drinkable.

A great deal of modern mixology flirts with this error: many modern drinks are thematic, and use unorthodox ingredients, from distilled dirt (seriously) to pigs eyeballs (again, seriously), to reinforce their themes. Are such drinks always bad? No. Should you be wary? Again, pigs eyeballs.

Volume Errors

Warning signs: bartender is either unenthusiastic or too enthusiastic at your order

By volume here I mean not the amount of liquid in the drink, but the amount of flavor. Some drinks have too little, but given the choice between, say, light, blended Irish whiskey shaken with lemon juice, simple syrup and a dash of elderflower liqueur, and Navy-strength gin, green Chartreuse, Fernet-Branca, Pimiento Bitters and rich, concentrated and sweet Pedro Ximnez sherry, Ill take the dull one. Two or three strong-flavored ingredients played against each other can work well, but with each additional one you risk the whole thing falling apart.

Unclubbable Ingredient Errors

Warning signs: herb garden behind the bar

The unclubbable ingredient is the one thing you add that refuses to get along with others, either by being loud and bullying and entirely blotting them out or by being passive-aggressive and persistent and speaking through all the silences. Smoky Scotch, Chinese baijiu, some mescals, absinthe, Fernet, and some pot-still rums all are dangerous in this way. But so are herbs, such as tarragon, chervil, and the like. They dont drown out the other flavors like the big spirits do, but they have a persistence that makes them linger when all the other flavors are gone. Thats not to say they cant be used well, just that they very often are not.

Brown Drink Errors

Warning signs: over 5 ingredients

Just as all colors, when blended, create brown, theres a flavor profile drinks tend to take on when theyve got too many ingredients. Sorta sweet, sorta bitter, sorta herbal, a little bit fruity, maybe sourish, too. Inexperienced mixologists, faced with a drink that doesnt quite work, have a tendency to keep adding ingredients until the thing tastes OK. Eventually, almost any drink, as long as it doesnt have an unclubbable ingredient, can be made to taste OK if you add enough stuff. But just mediocre isnt worth $15. For that, you want a drink that is focused; that doesnt taste like a little of this and a little of that, but rather has a point of view and a harmonious identity. The only way to get there is to strip away ingredients and start over with different ones; ones that get along well together. Knowing what those are takes experience. The older the mixologist, the fewer ingredients he or she tends to use. As the great jazz trumpeter Roy Eldridge once told Dale DeGroff, dean of American bartenders, when I was younger I used to play all the notes; now, I just play the right ones.

So much for strategic errors.

TACTICAL ERRORS

Drinks with tactical errors are fundamentally sound, but something has gone wrong in their execution. Here, Im not going to bother with simple incompetencereaching for the wrong ingredient, under-stirring, pouring fruit-fly infested liquor or spoiled lime juice, serving a drink in a warm glass, things like that. Thats just bad bartending, not bad mixology.

Historical Errors

Warning signs: Imbibe, by one David Wondrich, and a collection of other history books behind the bar

Some drinks are bad because their makers have gotten hold of a piece of knowledge from the wrong end and are letting it mess them up. For example, a common error I encounter occurs with the New York Sour, a whiskey sour with a float of red wine and one of my favorite drinks. Sometimes when I order one the bartender will add egg white to the drink. Historically, some sours used egg white, but never this one. The egg white produces a layer of froth on top of the drink, which clashes with the layer of red wine also being added to it, and you end up with a drink topped with an unattractive, pinkish muck, rather than a visually-striking, thin red line. Here, history has trumped common sense.

Another historical error involving egg whites occurs when the bartender, following an old recipe, adds a whole egg white to a drink, not realizing that eggs were much smaller in 1918 than the supersized jumbo ones we get in 2018. A little egg white adds a nice texture; a lot, and youre tasting egg white. Nobody wants to taste egg white.

Arts & Crafts and Food Tech Errors

Warning signs: more than two house-made ingredients on the cocktail list, or bar uses purchased simple syrup

Its fine to make your ingredients if you can do them masterfully and theres no other way to get them. Alas, too many bars make theirs just to say that they did. I cant count the number of times Ive had an overly sour Jack Rose (apple brandy, lime juice and grenadine) because the bar makes its own grenadine from pomegranates and sugar rather than using the commercial stuff. Admittedly, the ingredients of the supermarket brands are fairly appalling, but at least theyre really sweet and brightly colored, which is why grenadine was called for in the first place. Nobody ever talked about the stuffs flavor. A good house-made grenadine will duplicate the heavy sweetness and intense red color of the commercial stuff, leaving out the high-fructose corn syrup, the artificial flavors and the dyes (okay, sometimes a little food coloring helps). A bad one, as one encounters more often than not, will be sour and brownish and will neither adequately sweeten nor color the drink. Then there are the clumpy orgeats, the gritty tonic waters, the weird-tasting bitters, the infused vermouths that no longer taste like vermouth. Homemade ingredients can be great, but they have to be great, so to speak. Nothing so-so should go in a drink, no matter who makes it.

Which brings us to the other side of the equation; the crappy commercial products that are mucking up a perfectly good drink. Otherwise-crafty bars that purchase things like simple syrup (sugar and water, mixed), lemon and lime juice and Bloody Mary mix should be avoided. Theyll charge you three times what the corner tap will for the same quality of drink, or worse.

Helping a Brother Out and Helping a Sponsor Out Errors

Warning signs: More than 10 bottles youve never heard of; no bottles youve never heard of

These are the booze versions of the Arts & Crafts/Food Tech errors. We live in an amazing time where literally hundreds of new, small distilleries are making every kind of spirit imaginable. Some of them are even good at it. Many of them, though, are not quite there yet. When I see a local gin I havent heard of being used in my Martini, I start to get very worried. The Martini is a pitiless drink, and it demands a tight, focused gin. All too many of the new brands, in an understandable move to differentiate themselves from whats already out there, employ wide ranges of non-traditional botanicals. These can make for a weird Martini. A Martini should not be weird.

The same goes for whiskey. Too many of the new brands are under-aged, which mean that Old-Fashioned will be hot and fumey and redolent of the wet-dog aroma of new-make grain spirit. Thats not what you want. On the other hand, if the bar carries only big national brands, or has the whole line of Large Producer Xs flavored vodkas or rums on display behind the bar, it might not be the place for a fine cocktail.

Glassware Errors

Warning signs: All the drinks look like a giant, translucent version of a kids cup-and-ball game

Many new cocktail bars, having expensive and elaborate ice programs, like to show off by putting as many drinks as possible in bucket glasses (basically, large whiskey glasses), each holding one huge ball or cube of ice. Thats fine for an Old-Fashioned. Its not fine, or even acceptable, for a vast range of other drinks that want to be straight up in a stemmed glass. If I have one more Last Word served to me on the rocks I swear I shall go to a mountain cave and speak no more.

We could go on with all this, and perhaps in the future we shall. In the meanwhile, be warned and drink well.

Read more: https://www.thedailybeast.com/dr-daves-field-guide-to-bad-cocktails

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radiohorizon · 8 years

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All of them. Please? For me?

Youre killin meeeeeee🙄

200 things you can put in my ask200: My crush’s name is: Lacey😛😍 199: I was born in: 1999 198: I am really: short, tired, sarcastic, idk?? 197: My cellphone company is: verizon 196: My eye color is: blue/grey 195: My shoe size is: 3 in kids, 5 in womens 194: My ring size is: i have no idea, probably small but not too small cause i got far fingers 193: My height is: 5'1 192: I am allergic to: sulfa drugs and grass 191: My 1st car was: dont have one 190: My 1st job was: waitress at a local restaurant  189: Last book you read: King Lear in school but Clockwork Princess for fun 188: My bed is: my favorite and super comfy and my best friend literally comes over just to nap in it 187: My pet: 2 cats, 1 dog 186: My best friend: Andrew, Elizabeth, Abby, Katie, Kristy, Annabelle, Kyle, Hailey, Stevie, Bea 185: My favorite shampoo is: Suave Ocean 184: Xbox or ps3: xbox 183: Piggy banks are: idrc about them?? 182: In my pockets: dont have pockeys rn 181: On my calendar: nothings 180: Marriage is: in my future 179: Spongebob can: idrc cause idc 178: My mom: is my favorite person 177: The last three songs I bought were?Wasted youth by fletcherIn too deep by the sweeplingsIs there somewhere by halsey176: Last YouTube video watched:"50 things about me" by Nina Jablonska 175: How many cousins do you have?A shit ton 174: Do you have any siblings?1 sister and 1 brother that ive never met 173: Are your parents divorced?No and i never see them getting divorced. Theyre honestly the only reason i still believe in love 172: Are you taller than your mom?We're the same height actually 171: Do you play an instrument?Nope 170: What did you do yesterday? Went to school, studied, talked to Lacey, went to sleep[ I Believe In ] 169: Love at first sight: i dunno 168: Luck: yes 167: Fate: yes 166: Yourself: lmao no 165: Aliens: yes 164: Heaven: i think 163: Hell: yes 162: God: i believe in something 161: Horoscopes: im not sure 160: Soul mates: yes 159: Ghosts: yes 158: Gay Marriage: duh 157: War: i dont really know 156: Orbs: yes 155: Magic: yes[ This or That ] 154: Hugs or Kisses: hugs 153: Drunk or High: high 152: Phone or Online: depends 151: Red heads or Black haired: dont care 150: Blondes or Brunettes: dont care 149: Hot or cold: cold 148: Summer or winter: summer 147: Autumn or Spring: autumn 146: Chocolate or vanilla: depends because i love chocolate but it gives me headaches 145: Night or Day: night 144: Oranges or Apples: oranges 143: Curly or Straight hair: honestly dont care 142: McDonalds or Burger King: burger king for burgers, mcdonalds for snack wrap 141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: milk chocolate 140: Mac or PC: PC 139: Flip flops or high heals: depends 138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: sweet and poor 137: Coke or Pepsi: coke 136: Hillary or Obama: OBAMA OBAMA OBAMA OBAMA OBAMA OBAMA  135: Burried or cremated: buried in the cemetery up the road from where i live 134: Singing or Dancing: dancing 133: Coach or Chanel: dont care 132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: who are they? 131: Small town or Big city: small town 130: Wal-Mart or Target: how bout kohls 129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: adam Sandler 128: Manicure or Pedicure: manicure because im reallllly ticklish on my feet and i end up flinching the whole time 127: East Coast or West Coast: only ever been on the east coast so idrk 126: Your Birthday or Christmas: christmas 125: Chocolate or Flowers: chocolate 124: Disney or Six Flags: disney!!! 123: Yankees or Red Sox: how bout Orioles[ Here’s What I Think About ] 122: War: i respect the people fighting for our country and for others, but i wish everyone could just stop killing eachother 121: George Bush: gross 120: Gay Marriage: yay 119: The presidential election: grosser 118: Abortion: no judgement on whether or not someone decides to get one. Personally i dont think i could, but will always vote pro choice 117: MySpace: never had one so idk 116: Reality TV: can be entertaining but usually really dumb 115: Parents: i love them more than anything 114: Back stabbers: fuck you 113: Ebay: sketchy 112: Facebook: people are annoying and i hate that i live in hick central 111: Work: dont have ajob 110: My Neighbors: since 3 of my best friends are my neighbors, i guess theyre alright 109: Gas Prices: way too fucking high 108: Designer Clothes: dont care about them UNLESS its converse because thats my shit right there 107: College: start it in 5 months :( 106: Sports: love em but suck at em 105: My family: my rock and support, but they piss me off a lot 104: The future: scares the fuck out of me[ Last time I ] 103: Hugged someone: a few ninutes ago 102: Last time you ate: few hours ago 101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: about 2-3 weeks ago at the gym 100: Cried in front of someone: a few weeks ago i cried in front of abby because i found out kelsey has a girlfriend 99: Went to a movie theater: two weekends ago and saw Get Out and holy shit its good 98: Took a vacation: 2-3 years ago 97: Swam in a pool: 2 years ago i think 96: Changed a diaper: never 95: Got my nails done: little over a month ago 94: Went to a wedding: last summer 93: Broke a bone: never 92: Got a peircing: last spring 91: Broke the law: never i think? 90: Texted: about 2 seconds ago i texted Lacey[ MISC ] 89: Who makes you laugh the most: My lunch table 88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my cats and my moms hugs 87: The last movie I saw: i saw get out in theaters but watched thunderbirds for the millionth time in art so im a happy camper 86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: getting the fuck away from this place and these memories 85: The thing im not looking forward to: graduating, starting college, moving away, leaving my friends, leaving my animals, growing up, the list could go on forever 84: People call me: elizabeth, beth, bethany, lizzy, liz, bethyboo, bethers, bethy, 83: The most difficult thing to do is: move on and let go 82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: nope 81: My zodiac sign is: pisces 80: The first person i talked to today was: lacey or bea idrk 79: First time you had a crush: kindergarten 78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: no one, im pretty good with keeping a good face on 77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: i have no idea 76: Right now I am talking to: Lace💜👑 75: What are you going to do when you grow up: homicide detective or BAU 74: I have/will get a job: soon hopefully 73: Tomorrow: school, test, paint, facetime this beautiful girl, sleep 72: Today: school, test, painted, studied 71: Next Summer: senior weeek🤙🏻 and hopefully just simple hangouts with friends 70: Next Weekend: towson university visit 69: I have these pets: 2 cats (sadie and ziva) and 1 dog (westen oliver) 68: The worst sound in the world: hearing people chew or breathe hard 67: The person that makes me cry the most is: my ex 66: People that make you happy: my friends and parents 65: Last time I cried: last night 64: My friends are: the only reason im alive 63: My computer is: a Windows something 62: My School: sucks 61: My Car: doesnt exist 60: I lose all respect for people who: judge others with no reason and refuse to be nice 59: The movie I cried at was: if I stay 58: Your hair color is: dirty blonde/ light brown 57: TV shows you watch: criminal minds, shameless, the 100, friends, the fosters, lie to me, NCIS, scooby doo 56: Favorite web site: tumblr  55: Your dream vacation: a lake house 54: The worst pain I was ever in was: recovery after my heart surgery and when they had to take out my chest tubes 53: How do you like your steak cooked: medium 52: My room is: messy but my favorite place 51: My favorite celebrity is: jennifer lawrence or ryan Reynolds or josh hucherson 50: Where would you like to be: childhood 49: Do you want children: yes 48: Ever been in love: ye 47: Who’s your best friend: the twins, fergs, abby, rat pack, stevie, hailey, bea 46: More guy friends or girl friends: girl friends 45: One thing that makes you feel great is: gaining more flexibility 44: One person that you wish you could see right now: jarred 43: Do you have a 5 year plan: not really 42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: sorta 41: Have you pre-named your children: yepp. Daesin, Fiona, tegan and ryan 40: Last person I got mad at: my dad 39: I would like to move to: maryland or deleware 38: I wish I was a professional: dancer[ My Favorites ] 37: Candy: gummy bears and kit kats or smarties 36: Vehicle: jeep Cherokee  35: President: OBAMA 34: State visited: Florida 33: Cellphone provider: dunno 32: Athlete: Misty Copeland 31: Actor: Ryan Reynolds and Noel Fisher 30: Actress: Jennifer Lawrence 29: Singer: Amy Lee 28: Band: Evanescence 27: Clothing store: KOHLS 26: Grocery store: giant 25: TV show: shameless 24: Movie: thunderbirds or chitty chitty bang bang 23: Website: tumblr 22: Animal: monkey 21: Theme park: disney 20: Holiday: halloween 19: Sport to watch: allstar cheerleading or soccer 18: Sport to play: soccer 17: Magazine: dont have one but if i did i guess people? 16: Book: WAYYY too many 15: Day of the week: wednesday 14: Beach: bethany beach 13: Concert attended: evanescence even tho i couldnt see shit 12: Thing to cook: grilled cheese 11: Food: cheeseburger 10: Restaurant: green turtle 9: Radio station: 106.5 8: Yankee candle scent: i dunno 7: Perfume: hollister or ed hardy 6: Flower: rose 5: Color: purplr 4: Talk show host: my girl ellen 3: Comedian: jon Maloney, kevin heart, illiza shelshinger  2: Dog breed: golden retriever  1: Did you answer all these truthfully? Yeppers

#asks #💜👑#only cause she's cute

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