#just pretend theyre on a stool

[kipcube]

the bride and the ugly ass groom

[wickjump]

Please? 🥺

omg you all really do love me.... (theres another ask but i hit the 30 image limit so pretend theres another one here sorry). this is gonna be all over the place cause im like that. if this gets over 100 notes ill make a cross shrine in my room

OK!!!!!!! CROSS SANS TIME....

GRGRGRHRHRHHRN OKAY FIRST OF ALL. FROM AN OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT HE WAS MONUMENTAL TO THE DEVELOPMENT OF THIS FANDOM. HE IS PART OF LITERALLY THE FANDOMS BIGGEST PROJECT(S) (UNDERVERSE AND XTALE THE SERIES). HIS EXISTENCE IS LITERALLY THE REASON THIS FANDOM HAS THRIVED FOR SO LONG AFTER SO MANY YEARS. UNDERVERSE IS KEY TO THE FANDOMS SURVIVAL AND CROSS IS A CORE PART OF IT.

HIS STORY IS A FUCKING MASTERPIECE. YEAH I MIGHT BE BIASED BUT SHUT UP. HIS STORY BROUGHT TOGETHER A LOT OF THE FANDOMS IDEAS IN A VISUAL SENSE LIKE NEVER BEFORE. HE EXISTS IN A WORLD THAT IS SO FAR FROM UNDERTALE YET NOT FAR ENOUGH TO BE LIKE DREAMTALE. HE HELPED ESTABLISH THE UNDERTALE MULTIVERSE AS A WHOLE. HE IS A PRODUCT OF A WORLD MADE BY A MEGALOMANIAC (get it) THAT HAS GONE THROUGH TEN WHOLE REBIRTHS. THOUGH HE WASNT A CORE PART OF IT UNTIL THE END OF TIMELINE X, HE ALSO PLAYED A SIGNIFICANT PART IN TIMELINE 2 WHERE HE AND FRISK DEVELOPED THEIR FIRST FRIENDSHIP WITH EACH OTHER AND THEN HE DIED AND AND. CROSS IS SO FAR FROM WHO HE WAS IN EVERY PAST REBIRTH. TIMELINE 1 IS JUST A COPY PASTE OF SANS. TIMELINE 2 IS SOME WEIRD AMALGAMATION OF SANS AND SWAP. TIMELINE 9 (I FORGOT THE ROMAN NUMERAL) STRAYS MORE TOWARDS CLASSIC SANS THAN NOT. AND TIMELINE X HE IS FULL SWAP. AND THAT MUST BE FUCKING WILD TO EXPERIENCE BECAUSE WHILE HE DIDNT GET THE MEMORIES OF PREVIOUS TIMELINES LIKE THE OTHER AU INHABITANTS DID HE FOUND OUT ABOUT THE PREVIOUS TIMELINE REBIRTHS AND AND AND

HES A SWAP. HE IS A SWAP SANS. AND ILL DRILL THIS INTO YOUR MIND AS OFTEN AS I NEED TO. HE IS A SWAP SANS. HE EATS TACOS. HE HAS STARS FOR EYES. THINGS FLY OVER HIS HEAD. HE IS PHYSICALLY STRONG BUT NOT THAT SMART. HE MWEHEHEHS (KIND OF IMPLIED). COME ON DUDE. STOP FORGETTING THIS. MAKE HIM MWEHEHEH MORE. MAKE HIM STAR-EYES MORE WHEN CLASSICS JUST,,, DONT. I NEED THERE TO BE DIFFERENCES CUZ THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL THERE COME ONNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

AAND THATS NOT EVEN TOUCHING ON HIS CHILDHOOD. HE WAS DEADASS VERBALLY AND PHYSICALLY ABUSED BY XGASTER AND HEAVILY NEGLECTED AND WE IGNORE THIS FOR WHY??? HE WAS BEAT AS A KID HELLO??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??! STOP MAKING HIM AN ALPHA GRR MALE AND BREAK DOWN THE WALLS HE WAS FORCED TO BUILD SINCE CHILDHOOD AND GIVE HIM A GOODDAMN SMORE ON A STICK AND WEIGHTED BLANKET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

what a perfectly healthy and normal way to look at your father

HE IS MY FAVORITE TO PROJECT ONTO HIM. HE GREW UP IN THE HOUSE OF A CONTROL FREAK WHO WAS NOT AGAINST USING PHYSICAL VIOLENCE AGAINST A CHILD SO YOUNG THEY HAVE TO USE A FUCKING STEP-STOOL TO REACH THE BATHROOM SINK. HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT. HE IS LITERALLY THE PERFECT PROJECTION DOLL. SUFFERED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA? CROSS IS YA BOY. MAKE HIM SUFFER. CAUSE HE ALREADY HAS. I CAN MAKE HIM HAVE MY PTSD SYMPTOMS ALL I WANT CUZ HES ME FR!!!!!!

ALSO ALPHYS IS HIS SISTER HOLY SHIT CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT MORE??? "OHH BUT TECHNICALLY ALPHYS ISNT AND XPAPYRUS SAID-" THEY GREW UP TOGETHER. WITH THE SAME MAN RAISING THEM. IN THE SAME HOUSE. THEY WENT AS GROUPS TO THINGS. THEY LIKELY WENT TO THE SAME SCHOOLS. THEY SAT AT THE DINNER TABLE TOGETHER. THEY PLAYED TOGETHER. THEY HUNG OUT WITH THE SAME FRIENDS AT THE SAME TIME. ALPHYS HAS A SPECIAL CARE FOR CROSS THAT SHE DOESNT SHOW FOR MOST OTHERS. AND SHES A LESBIAN SO DONT TWIST IT TO BE LIKE A CRUSH OR SOMETHING. THEY R SIBLINGS. THEYRE JUST FLAT OUT SIBLINGS. YEAH PAPYRUS SAID THEYRE NOT BUT PAPYRUS ALSO HAS DISTANCED HIMSELF A LOT FROM HIS FAMILY OVER THE YEARS MEANWHILE CROSS STAYED PUT MORE OFTEN THAN NOT. PAPYRUS HATES XGASTER AND HAS SHOWN THAT DISDAIN MANY MANY MANY MANY TIMES--EVEN EXTENDING THAT DISDAIN TOWARDS ALPHYS HERSELF. HE ONLY STAYS CONNECTED WITH CROSS AND I KNOW DAMN WELL A GOOD CHUNK OF HIS REASONING FOR THAT IS BECAUSE THEY LITERALLY WORK TOGETHER. CROSS HAS ALSO SHOWN THE DISDAIN FOR XGASTER BUT ALSO HOLDS A TYPE OF LONGING AND FEAR IN REFERENCE TO HIS FATHER. PLEASE. PLEASE. COME ON. GIVE ME THIS.

ALPHYS IS LITERALLY HIS SISTER. THEYRE SIBLINGS. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL THERE. HES THE ONLY SANS TO HAVE A SISTER. THE ONLY SANS THAT SEES ALPHYS AS A SISTER. HOW ISOLATED MUST THAT MAKE HIM FEEL. NOT ONLY IS HIS AU SUCH AN AMALGAMATION THAT HE CANT CORRECTLY RELATE WITH CLASSICS OR SWAPS, BUT HE CANT EVEN RELATE TO ANYONE ABOUT ALPHYS. WILD SHIT.

OKAY ANYWAY. AFTER EVERYTHING CROSS WENT THROUGH AS A KID EVENTUALLY HE DISCOVERED HIS DAD WASNT JUST AN ABUSIVE POS BUT ALSO THAT HE CONTROLS THE VERY WORLD HE LIVES IN AND THAT HE IS JUST A SMALL PART OF SOMETHING MUCH GREATER, ONLY INTRODUCED BECAUSE HE TRUSTED FRISK ENOUGH FOR HIM TO CHOOSE CROSS OUT OF EVERYONE. THAT EVERYTHING ABOUT THE WORLD HE LIVES IN IS BECAUSE OF HIS SHITASS DAD. AND HES CONFUSED AND HES ANGRY. AND HIS WORLDVIEW IS COMPLETELY SHATTERED. EVERYTHING HE KNEW WAS A LIE AND HE WAS ALWAYS UNDER XGASTER'S CONTROL. HOW FUCKED UP MUST THAT BE TO REALIZE. ALSO HE WAS STABBED A LOT BY HIS BEST FRIEND. DUDE LOST HIS SENSE OF EVERYTHING. SENSE OF SELF, OF WHO HE CAN TRUST, FAMILY, ETC. AND IT WAS EVEN MORE DRIVEN IN WHEN UNDYNE AND PAPYRUS LITERALLY ATTEMPTED TO KILL HIM. HELLO???

AND. CROSS' OWN NAME. HIS NAME WAS SANS FOR MOST OF HIS LIFE, BUT NOW HE CALLS HIMSELF CROSS AND WILL INSIST THAT NAME IS USED FOR HIM AT ALL TIMES (i know what you are...it fucken transgemder...). BUT THATS NOT. BUT THATS NOT EVEN CONSIDERING THE ONLY REASON HE GOT THAT NAME WAS BECAUSE OF FRISK SEMI-TAUNTING HIM WHILE CROSS WAS IN THE MIDST OF DYING IN HIS DREAM WORLD. THE ONLY THING CROSS HAS LEFT OF HIS BEST FRIEND IS THE NAME HE WAS GIVEN WHILST BLEEDING OUT FROM LIKE 20 STAB WOUNDS. AND YET CROSS IDENTIFIES WITH THAT NAME SO PAINFULLY MUCH HE WILL PHYSICALLY FIGHT AND KICK AND SCREAM TO HAVE IT USED. THE NAME SANS USED FOR HIM MAKES HIM RECOIL.

AND HIS DYNAMIC WITH CHARA??? PAINFULLY UNDERUSED SO SO PAINFULLY UNDERUSED. OH MY GOD. THEY COULD BE THE BROTHERS EVER BUT NOOO YOU HATE CHARA!!!!!! THEY BOTH WENT THROUGH SO MUCH FROM XGASTER AND LOST EVERYTHING THEY LOVE AND CARE ABOUT. BOTH WERE CLOSE TO FRISK. BOTH WERE ABUSED. IF YOU KEEP THE SCAR AND THE RED EYE YOU GOTTA KEEP CHARA THATS THE RULES MAN. SAYING HES LOCKED AWAY IS COWARD SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!

CHARA AND HE HAVE FUN BANTER. THEYRE EXCITING. EVERY FIC WITH CHARA WAS A BETTER READ AUTOMATICALLY BECAUSE I LOVE SEEING THEIR DYNAMIC AND ALSO I LOVE CHARA. THE WAY THEY BOTH HAVE DEVELOPED AS PEOPLE FOLLOWING THEIR TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCES AND ACROSS THE DURATION OF THE X-EVENT IS WILD AND AND AND I LOVE IT. THE PARALELLS BETWEEN CROSS AND CHARA, AND CHARA AND XGASTER. THERE IS SO MUCH HURT COMFORT POTENTIAL HELLO?? AND ANGST LIKE. IMAGINE HAVING TO STAY STILL AND NOT REACT AS A GHOST TEENAGER HURLS INSULTS AT YOU THAT HURT DEEPLY, TRYING TO GET A REACTION. IMAGINE THAT SAME GHOST TEENAGER SILENTLY CRYING TO HIMSELF WHEN HE THINKS YOURE ASLEEP. IMAGINE GOING TO A SECLUDED PLACE AND YELLING AT THAT GHOST TEENAGER THAT FOLLOWS YOU AROUND AFTER A DAY OF HAVING TO IGNORE HIM. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER WITHHOLDING INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR PAST LIVES. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER AND YOU TALKING THINGS OUT. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER NAGGING YOU TO EAT CHICKEN NUGGETS BECAUSE HE REALLY WANTS CHICKEN NUGGETS BUT HE CANT CONTROL THE BODY SO CROSS HAS TO EAT THEM FOR HIM SO HE GETS THE SENSATION OF EATING AND THE TASTE OF SAID NUGGIES. IMAGINE BEING INJURED AND THE GHOST TEENAGER WHO HAS YELLED AT YOU MORE TIMES THAN YOU CAN COUNT IS TRYING TO KEEP YOU FOCUSED AND AWAKE AND WHILE HE CANT TOUCH YOU HES TRYING HIS BEST TO COMFORT YOU THE BEST WAY HE CAN BECAUSE YOU JUST STARTED TO UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER DAMMIT, YOU CANT DIE NOW. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER REALIZING HE'S ACTING LIKE HIS ABUSIVE DAD WHEN HE YELLS AT CROSS WHAT XGASTER ONCE YELLED AT HIM. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER POKING FUN AT CROSS' MISTAKES AND BEING LIKE AN ANNOYING LITTLE BROTHER. IMAGINE THEM DEFENDING EACH OTHERS' NAMES DESPITE THEIR DIFFERENCES BC THEYRE BROTHERS AND THATS WHAT BROTHERS DO. PLEEAAASEEEE.

ALSO THE POTENTIAL HE HAS WITH TORIEL IS REALLY CUTE AND IGNORED. SHES KIND OF LIKE A MOTHER FIGURE TO HIM IDK.... HE DESERVES A MOM I FEEL. EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS MORE LIKE AN AUNT (asriel calls xgaster "uncle") I REALLY LOVE THE IDEA OF THE DREEMURRS BEING PARENTAL TO CROSS. I MEAN. LOOK AT THEM.

HE AND METTATON ARE SO FUNNY TOO BECAUSE THEY HATE EACH OTHERS GUTS SO MUCH. WHICH IS WILD BECAUSE CROSS IS FRISK'S BEST FRIEND, YET METTATON WAS MADE TO PROTECT FRISK. BUT THEY HATE EACH OTHER. AND ITS SO FUNNY. do you think cross is curt with literally every mettaton he sees out of habit. i mean come on LOOK AT THEM. THEYRE SO STUPID.

ALSO CROSS IS SO FUCKING SHORT OH MY GOD. HES 4 FOOT 7 (i thought he was 5 feet until a few days ago cuz that was his old height). i need you to process this. like actually. i am 5'5. i would be 9 inches taller than him. i would be nine inches taller than him. 4'11? 4 inches taller than his tiny ass. he is literally so small. PLEASE make him tiny more often ill be so appreciative. he needs help reaching the cabinets

HES ALSO A FUCKING CUTIE PATOOTIE. HES GOT LITTLE FANGS. HES GOT FANGS!! BITEY BOYS!!!!!!!!! HES GOT FANGS AND THEYRE SHARP!! HE PROBABLY BITES HIS TONGUE SO VERY MUCH!!!!!!!! BITEY BOY. HE WAS A BITER AS A KID TOO. COME ON. EVEN IN UNDERVERSE HES GOT BIG ASS FANGS. ITS NOT JUST A STYLE CHOICE HES LITERALLY A BITEY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HES GOT SHARP TEETHERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he probably needed chew toys as a kid (so did i)`

AND HIS MOUTH. THE WAY ITS ALEWAYS LIKE THIS. HES ALWAYS GOT THAT STUPID LITTLE CHEEK. HE JUST. HES SO.. RGGRGRGRGGRGRROWLS I LOVE HIM!! HE IS SO SILLAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AND HES SO SMUG TOO ALL THE TIME. HE HAS SOME SUPERIORITY COMPLEX AT ALL TIMES. LOOK AT HIS SMUG FUCKING FACE. LOOK AT HIM. DUMBASS. HE DOES THIS SIGNATURE BASTARD THING WHERE HE TURNS HIS HEAD TO THE SIDE WITH A SCOFF. HE IS SO PRISSY. SO UPTIGHT ALL THE TIME. GOD

hes such a FUCKING MENACE TOO. LOOK AT THIS ASSHOLE.

HES TERRIBLE. HES SUCH A DICK. HES A MENACE AND SHOULD BE KEPT ON A LEASH. HES A SMUG IDIOT WHO THINKS HES BETTER THAN SO MANY PEOPLE AND HE IS MEAN AND SORT OF FULL OF HIMSELF AND DEFINITELY ACTS LIKE MOST PEOPLE FROM THE MILITARY IVE MET. which is fitting because hes FROM THE XTALE MILITARY. "ROYAL GUARD" IN XTALE IS JUST DEADASS THE MILITARY. HIS STUPID SELF WENT TO BOOT CAMP. AND YET HES LIKE THIS. AWFUL. HES MEAN TO KIDS. HE LITERALLY STOLE A CHILD'S CHOCOLATE MILK. WHO DOES THAT. APPARENTLY CROSS DOES.

HE IS JUST. CANONICALLY AWFUL TO KIDS. HES NEEDLESSLY JUST. MEAN TO THEM. FOR NO REASON. HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO HANDLE KIDS. WASNT GIVEN A GOOD EXAMPLE. TERRIBLE BABYSITTER. BUT ALSO HE'D CANONICALLY LOVE HIS DAUGHTER IF HE EVER HAD ONE.... HE DOESNT WANNA TREAT HIS CHILD LIKE HIS DAD TREATED HIM.... SIGHS... HE CALLS HIS DAUGHTER HIS PRINCESS WTF,,, HES A CUTIE PIE.!!!!!!!!!!! HE NEEDS 2 WORK THINGS OUT :(

AND AND AND. THE LITTLE WAYS HE CHOOSES TO REBEL. LIKE HIS NEW TERRIBLE AS HELL OUTFIT WITH THE BOOB WINDOW. WHICH I DONT LIKE. BUT ITS A WAY FOR HIM TO REBEL AGAINST WHAT HES FORCED TO BE HIS ENTIRE LIFE YADDA YADDA. THE OLD OUTFIT WAS BETTER BUT THE SYMBOLISM HERE IS NEAT. ANYWAY. THE LEFTOVER FEELINGS AND RAGE AND ANGER HE HAS FOR HIS FATHER BUT THE LONGING TO BE ACCEPTED AND LOVED BY HIM?!?!??!?!?!?! COME ON GUYS. WE CAN DO BETTER THAN THIS. WE CAN MAKE HIM HAVE MORE DADDY ISSUES

HE IS SO CONFLICTING FEELINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! INTOXICATED ASSHOLE WANTS A HUG FROM HIS DAD BUT ALSO HATES HIS DAD SOOOOOOOOO MUCH.

ALSO LOOK AT HIM AS A DUMB CUTE LITTLE BABY. BABY BOY. FAT USELESS INFANT. ADORABLE. I LOVE HIM

HE DOESNT KNOW ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOTHING AT ALL!!! SWEET BABY BOY...... HE KNOWS NOT OF THE HORRORS THAT AWAIT HIM!!!!!!

and hes a CRYBABY TOO AND I LOVE THAT FOR HIM. GRGHRGRRGRHWOLOWLSS

he was BORN A CRYBABY AND THATS HOW HE'LL DIE!!! AND NOBODY UTILIZES THIS BTW. IVE GOT LIKE FOUR OR FIVE OTHER PHOTOS OF HIM JUST CRYING IN SITUATIONS WHERE CRYING ISNT WARRANTED. BUT HE DOES. HE CRIES WHEN HE IS MILDLY FRUSTRATED. HE CRIES WHEN HE IS MILDLY ASHAMED. WHERE IS HIM CRYING OVER STUPID SHIT. WHERE IS HIM TAKING A JOKE TOO PERSONALLY AND HE TEARS UP AGAINST HIS WILL. WHERE IS HIM SOBBING IN HIS ROOM OVER SOMETHING SOMEONE SAID IN PASSING THAT HIT TOO HARD. WHY DOESNT HE CRY MORE. YOURE ALL PUSSIES. MAKE HIM CRY MORE OFTEN. CRYBABY CROSS. HE DESERVES 2 BE ONE AFTER BEING WARPED INTO AN ALPHA MALE FOR THE PAST EIGHT GODDAMN YEARS. FUCK

AND AND AND THATS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO TOUCHING HIS FANON INTERACTIONS WHICH I LOVE JUST AS MUCH. HOW EVERYONE INSTANTLY DECIDED HED HAVE A RIVALRY WITH KILLER GIVEN HOW CROSS IS EASY TO RILE UP AND FRUSTRATE WHILE KILLER IS THE BUTTON PUSHER?? GREAT SHIT. ALL OF YOU. GOOD JOB. ITS FUCKING BRILLIANT. THANK YOU.

CROSS JOINING NIGHTMARE'S GROUP IS MY FAVORITE INTERPETATION. SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE I KNOW HE WOULDNT WANT TO. CROSS IS FUCKED UP BUT HE HAS MORALS, HE STILL FOLLOWS THE ROYAL GUARD CODE MENTALLY. HE DOESNT LIKE KILLING. HE DOESNT AGREE WITH NEEDLESS MURDER. HE CAN HARM, SURE, BUT ALL THE DEATH WAS XCHARA'S DIRECT ACTIONS OR HEAVY INFLUENCE (love u xchara). CROSS WOULD LOATHE TO JOIN NIGHTMARES GROUP AS A LACKEY WHO GOES AROUND KILLING PEOPLE FOR NO GAIN TOWARDS HIMSELF. HE DOES WHAT HE DOES TO GET HIS AU BACK. JOINING NIGHTMARE'S TEAM WITH NO HELP TOWARDS THAT GOAL WOULD BE HELL ON HIM, EVEN IN A FANON SETTING. BECAUSE HE'D HATE IT. HE'S GONE FROM A RIGHTEOUS ROYAL GUARD WHO HELPED THOSE IN NEED TO SOMEONE WHO LIVES WITH A GROUP OF MURDERERS AND AIDS THEM IN THEIR KILLING OF INNOCENTS. i like to think cross doesnt kill, like he just. refuses to. he will hurt and incapacitate, but he doesn't kill. and he also refuses to harm children, papyri, alphys, whatever. there were times where he couldve killed one of the stars but he didn't and idk i like that. i like it when hes like that.

I ALSO LOVE FANON AND CANON DYNAMICS WITH NM'S GROUP EITHER AS A WHOLE OR AS INDIVIDIUALS. I LOVE KROSS SO OBVIOUSLY KILLER AND CROSS' DYNAMIC IS MY FAVORITE. I LOVE RIVALS. I LOVE PEOPLE WHO CANT STAND EACH OTHER. I LOVE IT WHEN KILLER BUGS CROSS UNTIL HE SNAPS AND THATS WHEN THEIR DYNAMIC GETS MORE INTERESTING. I LOVE IT WHEN CROSS GETS RILED UP AND ANGRY. I LOVE IT WHEN HES MAD AND GOT ISSUES. I LOVE IT WHEN KILLER EGGS HIM ON BECAUSE ITS FUNNY. I LOVE WHEN THEY REACH A DEEPER UNDERSTANDING.

HORROR AND DUST... MAN. I LOVE DUST AND CROSS' DYNAMIC THE MOST OUT OF THE TWO JUST CAUSE DUST IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES. THEY BOTH HAVE GHOST BROTHERS (EVEN IF ONE ISNT EXACTLY REAL). DUST IS PARANOID AND JITTERY BUT MOST OF ALL QUIET, HE DOESNT PICK FIGHTS LIKE KILLER DOES SO CROSS LIKES HIM FOR THAT. THEY HANG AROUND IN SILENCE I THINK,,,

HORROR MAKES CROSS THINK OF HOME IN A WAY BECAUSE OF HOW HE COOKS AND WHAT HE COOKS. HORROR IS VERY RUMBLY AND SORT OF LIKE A GREAT DANE AND DEFINITELY VERY INTIMIDATING AT FIRST. HE SCARED OFF CROSS SO SO MUCH AT FIRST. I THINK CROSS ASKING HIM TO MAKE LIKE TACOS OR A BUTTERSCOTCH CINNAMON PIE WAS WHEN THEY STARTED 2 GET CLOSER. BUT THATS CAUSE I LOVE THEM AS A SHIP TOO SO YOU MIGHT BE GETTING SOME UNDERTONES. THATS WHY. HOWEVER THERES ALSO ANGST POTENTIAL GIVEN THE DIFFERENCE IN THEIR ALPHYS'. HORROR LOBOTOMIZED HER. CROSS WAS RAISED ALONGSIDE HER. LOVELY

NIGHTMARE IS A SUPER COOL CHARACTER IN UNDERVERSE I FEEL. NOT JUST BECAUSE HE IS VIOLENCE ITSELF BUT BECAUSE OF HOW MANIPULATIVE HE WAS. IN CANON IT WOULDNT BE TOO HARD TO MANIPULATE CROSS INTO FULLY JOINING, EXCEPT IN UNDERVERSE HE DIDNT HAVE A TEAM, JUST KILLER. IF HE DID, I DONT DOUBT HE COULD MANIPULATE CROSS INTO JOINING. CROSS HAD LOST EVERYTHING, AND HE WOULD DO ANYTHING TO GET HIS WORLD, HIS FAMILY, BACK. IN FANON, NIGHTMARE IS A LOT MORE A "take you under my wing" KIND OF FIGURE I THINK!!!!!!!!!! HE CARES FOR CROSS IN THAT REGARD, TAKING IN A STUBBORN SOLDIER WHO LOST AS MUCH AS THE OTHER MEMBERS OF HIS TEAM. EITHER WAY I LIKE HIM. I THINK CROSS WOULD HATE HIS GUTS IN CANON, BECAUSE. HE DOES. YEAH. BUT IN A MORE FANON SETTING CROSS WOULD BE PAINFULLY LOYAL EVEN IF IT HURT HIM, BECAUSE CROSS IS USED TO SURRENDERING HIMSELF TO LOYALTY. HIS MORALS, HIS WANTS, NOTHING MATTERS WHEN HE HAS A JOB TO DO AND SOMEONE TO PLEASE. NIGHTMARE COULD VERY WELL BE THAT, THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN CANONMARE AND FANONMARE IS HOW NM REACTS.

AND EPIC. I LOVE YOU EPIC. I LOVE HIS DYNAMIC WITH EPIC. I LOVE HOW CROSS KNEW EPIC AND THEN FORGOT. AND THEN MET HIM AGAIN AND AND. GRGRRHRHH. HOW THEY WERE FRIENDS IN ANOTHER LIFE AND THEYRE FRIENDS IN THIS ONE TOO. HOW DESPITE HOW DIFFERENT CROSS IS NOW, EPIC STAYS. I LOVE HOW THEYRE CASUAL BESTIES. I LOVE HOW THEYRE SILLY TOGETHER AND WATCH EACH OTHER DO STUPID SHIT AND EGG EACH OTHER ON. I LOVE HOW THEYRE DUMB TOGETHER AND MAKE SILLY JOKES AND WATCH ANIME AND MAKE SILLY REFERENCES. I LOVE THEM. EVERYONE IS PROBABLY SO TIRED OF THEM. THEYRE SO DUMB AND SILLY AND GRGRRHRRHHRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEYRE BESTIES. THEYRE THE DUMBEST BESTEST FRIENDS. CROSS ONLY EVER TRULY UNWINDS AND LETS HIS GUARD DOWN WHEN EPIC'S AROUND AND THERES SOMETHING SPECIAL ABOUT THAT. SOULMATES I TELL U.......

THE STARS!!! COULDNT FINISH THIS POST WITHOUT MENTIONING THEM. CROSS' DYNAMIC WITH THEM ISNT SOMETHING I FOCUS ON TOO-TOO MUCH NORMALLY BUT HERE WE GO!!!!

HIM AND SWAP FIRST. CROSS RELATES MORE TO SWAP THAN HE DOES MOST OTHER SANSES BECAUSE CROSS IS A SWAP. THIS IS KIND OF CANON TOO. WHILE CROSS FINDS A LOT OF CLASSIC BEHAVIORS DETESTABLE (ie drinking condiments or overall being lazy), SWAP IS LIKE HIM IN THAT REGARD. THEYRE BESTIES. THEY INTERACT A LOT OUTSIDE OF THEIR BRIEF CANON MEETING. JAKEI DRAWS THEM LOTS,,,,, SIGHS,,, I THINK THEYD BE GOOD FRIENDS EVEN IF CROSS ISNT IN THE STARS, LIKE A TRUCE AU OR JUST WHERE CROSS DOESNT ALIGN HIMSELF WITH ANY TEAM OR EVEN WHERE CROSS DOES, BUT THIS SWAP ISNT THE SAME ONE ON THE STARS' TEAM. THEYD BE SUPER CLOSE FRIENDS I THINK... au where cross is on nm's team but hangs out with a random swap from an unaffected timeline to destress between jobs, but that swap ends up being the one in the stars and idk. beginning of a truce or something much worse. u decide

DREAM!!!!! I DONT LIKE CREAM BUT I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC IN CANON IN A PLATONIC WAY. I THINK THEYD BE FRIENDS. DREAM INSPIRES HOPE IN CROSS IN A WAY THAT HE THOUGHT HE LOST, REMINDING HIM OF HIS ROOTS AND HIS SENSE OF BELONGING IN THE ROYAL GUARD. WHICH IS A SCENE THAT MADE ME TEAR UP. THAT KIND OF HOPE IS JUST WHAT CROSS NEEDED IN THE MOMENT AND I FEEL DREAM COULD BE A REALLY GOOD GENUINE MORAL SUPPORT IN THAT REGARD. A GOOD INFLUENCE THAT CROSS 100% NEEDS. IF CROSS IS ON NM'S TEAM, DREAM IS THE ONE THAT MAKES CROSS HESITATE EVERY TIME DREAM OFFERS AND CROSS IS ABOUT TO DENY.

INK. WOULDNT BE A CROSS POST WITHOUT A LITTLE BIT OF INK WOULD IT. INK AND CROSS ARE SO DIVORCEES I THINK. BOTH WERE MANIPULATED BY XGASTER, ALTHOUGH CROSS WAS TREATED AHEM A LOT MORE POORLY. INK IS A REMINDER OF CROSS' PAST AND HIS TIME SPENT IN THE REMAINS OF HIS AU, IN ISOLATION. YET INK WAS ALSO HIS FRIEND. INK MEANT THE WORLD TO HIM BACK THEN. AND INSTINCTUALLY CROSS STILL DEFENDS HIM, EVEN IF HES ANGRY AND HATES INK FOR WHAT HE DID. THEYRE FULL OF CONFLICTING FEELINGS. AND I LOVE BOTH EQUALLY WHERE THEY EITHER TALK THINGS OUT OR WHERE IT STEWS FOREVER.

I ALSO REALLY LOVE JAKEIS DEVELOPMENT OF HIM. AT FIRST HE WAS A VERY ANGRY CHARACTER WHO WAS SORT OF DISSOCIATING AND IN A TERRIBLE MENTAL STATE (TO WHERE IF HE WAS ABLE TO USE THE OVERWRITE BUTTON AT THE TIME OF BEING TRAPPED IN THE REMAINS OF HIS AU HE WOULD HAVE DESTROYED HIS BODY AND ANY CHANCE OF FIXING THE AU BECAUSE HE IS SO OUT OF IT MENTALLY). AND HE REMAINED ANGRY FOR A GOOD BIT. AND THEN GOT EMO AND SAD. AND THEN HE GOT TIRED. AND NOW HES BACK TO BEING ANGRY AGAIN MOST LIKELY GIVEN THE FEW SNEAK PEAKS IVE SEEN OF THE NEXT UNDERVERSE EP. IM EXCITED TO SEE HOW HE REACTS TO SEEING XGASTER AGAIN. IM ALSO MOSTLY EXCITED FOR HIS OLD OUTFIT BEING BACK. I DIDNT LIKE THE BOOB WINDOW OR SLEEVELESS JOCK GETUP. SORRY CROSS

CAPSLOCK IS GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME

OKAY. ANYWAY. HIS KNIFE THE BIG RED KNIFE. I MISS IT SO MUCH. THAT KNIFE INFLUENCED MY CHARACTER DESIGN FOR AGES. HES EDGY AND EMO AND I MISS THE KNIFE. THERE WAS SOMETHING ICONIC TO ME ABOUT IT. BIG RED KNIFE IS STILL CANON.... XCHARA COME BACK... I NEED U TO KNIFE HIM UP AGAIN...

AND AND AND. AND. CROSS!!!! HES PERFECT TO PROJECT ANYTHING ONTO. HES PERFECT TO WRITE ANGST OF. AND COMFORT I GUESS. HES MY FAVORITE CHARACTER TO WRITE THE DEHUMANIZATION OF BECAUSE HE EVEN CALLS HIMSELF A DOG AT ONE POINT IN UNDERVERSE. HELLO???? THERE WAS A POST THAT WENT LIKE "submissive in the way a dog is submissive to the sheep it kills coyotes for" THATS CROSS. THOSE IMAGES WHERE ITS A NOSTALGIC PICTURE OF A DOG/WOLF WITH TEXT IN A TYPEWRITER FONT ABOUT LOYALTY BEING THE DEATH OF YOU? CROSS. "IM NOT A VIOLENT DOG I DONT KNOW WHY I BITE" "I WONT WAIT FOR YOU, I BITE"? CROSS. CROSS CROSS CROSS. HE IS PERFECT BECAUSE HE IS ANGRY AND HE IS VIOLENT BUT HE IS HURTING. AND HE HURTS SO GODDAMN MUCH.

ID ADD SO MANY MORE IMAGES BUT I HIT THE 30 IMAGE LIMIT?!?!?!?!? PLEASE TELL ME U KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT THO.... PLEASE.... COME ON.......

I LOVE CROSS SO MUCH. I REALLY DO. HES MY BESTEST BOY EVER. I WOULD SAY GOOD BOY AND HE WOULD TREMBLE. I JUST REALIZED HOW SUGGESTIVE THAT SOUNDED. TAKE THAT AS YOU WILL I GUESS. ANYWAY YES CROSS SANS

I LOVE HIM. HES MY FAVORITE. I LOVE HIM AND HIS DYNAMICS WITH OTHER CHARACTERS. I LOVE HIM AND HIS STORY. I LOVE HIM AND HIS STUPID HABITS. HIS DAILY STRUGGLE TO GET DRESSED BC HES STUPID AND THE OUTFIT IS COMPLICATED. THE WAY HE CRIES SO MUCH. HIS STUPID FACE. HIS SMUG ASS STANCE. HIS STRAIGHT FUCKING POSTURE. THE WAY HES AN ASSHOLE TO EVERYONE WHO DOESNT HOLD DIRECT POWER OVER HIM. THE WAY HES DEVELOPED AS A CHARACTER OVER THE YEARS. I LOVE HIM.

THIS ISNT EVEN ALL OF IT. BUT ITS GETTING SO LONG IM JUST. GONNA END HERE. LMFAO. OK THATS IT

BYEBYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[anzynai]

Only You

Husk x Angel (Hazbin Hotel)

a/n: hello sorry i couldn’t resist writing for them. ive been a fan for years and have been obsessed with the new series so. anyways, yes is them. also, for some reason, i kinda struggled writing for them so sorry if theyre ooc😭😭 still, i hope u enjoy!

summary: angel dust and husk are having another late night talking session when husk learns that angel is ticklish.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: tickling, implied huskerdust, gets a little angsty?? but it gets better

——

It was a normal night. And by normal night, everyone else was asleep, save for Husk, when Angel cracked open the front door, attempting to be silent. Husk was wiping down the glasses when he saw the other. He looked.. rough, and though it hurt Husk to see him like that, he knew he couldn’t do much about it besides offer comfort.

And so followed their usual routine. Angel would ask for a drink and Husk would give him one, but recent developments had them talking late at night. Conversations that would be rare if it were a random Tuesday afternoon, allowing each other to learn more about the other, making them laugh or even cry. Husk wouldn’t admit it but it was secretly becoming an important part of his day and his fondness for the spider was growing.

Today wasn’t much different. After pouring himself and Angel a drink, he went to sit next to Angel. Talking the night away, casually, and when Angel began to tease him about whatever, he poked Angel in the side.

“Ha—!” Angel jumped before he hurriedly tried to change the conversation, but Husk was intrigued.

“You’re ticklish?” Husk asked, almost incredulously but amused nonetheless. He didn’t know why he was so surprised.

“Eh.. I guess so..” Angel muttered, averting his eyes. Husk was almost shocked. He expected Angel to say something more… flirtatious, but he decided not to ponder on it too much.

That was his first mistake. He reached over to give the other a few squeezes on the other’s side when..

“NO!” Angel shouted, fearful and panicked, as he pushed Husk's hands from him. He lost his balance off the small barstool, and met the ground with a loud thump. Husk could feel his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach at the look on Angel’s face. He got off the stool, crouching in front of the spider.

“Angel..?” He whispered, gently, reaching a hand towards him, but not quite touching, in case Angel didn’t want to be touched. He scolded himself, inwardly. He had been swept by Angel’s usual flirtatious persona and assumed that he was always fine with being touched, but perhaps he wasn’t correct with that thinking? Angel seemed surprise by his own reaction because he shook his head and forced a smile to Husk.

“Sorry about that, Whiskers. Guess I’m still feeling a bit jittery.” He laughed, nervous and timid.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Husk asked. He didn’t want to make Angel think he had to pretend to be fine. He wanted Angel to be true to his feelings and know that he can confide in the cat. Angel looked down at the ground.

“Sorry.” Angel muttered, repositioning himself, loosely hugging his knees. His lower set of hands rubbed against each other.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Husk reassured, moving to sit by Angel, who looked incredibly guilty. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You— you didn’t. I just.. I don’t know.” Angel faltered, seemingly struggling on his words. Husk tried to smile at him, but Angel didn’t seem to see it.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t need to explain. I won’t try to tickle you again.” Husk told him and Angel finally looked up at him.

The spider paused for a moment, as if thinking. He seemed.. embarrassed.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out before he averted his eyes. Husk listened. “You can tickle me,” The bartender’s eyes widened in disbelief. From his reaction, he wouldn’t have thought Angel would have given him permission to tickle him. “.. If you want.”

“Huh? I thought you didn’t want me to.”

“I didn’t say that.” Angel admitted.

“You want me to?” Husk jaw was nearly on the floor at this point.

“I’d always love your hands on me~” Angel purred, trying to lighten the mood.

“Angel.” Husk said, almost sternly, but mostly because he didn’t want to cross the actor’s boundaries.

“Fine. Yeah. I want you to. Happy?” Angel rolled his eyes, but there was a bit of redness on his cheeks. “Only you.”

Husk could feel his heart flutter in ways he did not want to address anytime soon and he tried to will away the blush that he could feel making its way to his face. He didn’t say anything, but he slowly lifted his hands to Angel, giving a gentle squeeze, as if testing the waters.

Angel giggled quietly, but he didn’t push him away. Feeling more confident, he scooted closer and lightly kneaded his hands on the spider’s body, occasionally scratching at his tummy.

“Hehehe… Huhuhusk..” Angel laughed, a genuine smile appearing on his face. Husk decided that he wouldn’t do too much with the tickling. Angel deserved gentleness and that’s what he wanted to give him tonight.

“Ticklish?” Husk cooed, teasing.

“Youhuhu knohow I a-ahaham!”

“Well, I do now.” Husk agreed, going to Angel’s tummy for real this time. He clawed at the thin fabric that very evidently outlined Angel’s frame. Angel was thin, he noticed. He worried that Angel may have been on a diet, as he knew many actors tended to be, but he decided not to ask. He wanted to cheer Angel up, not interrogate him.

His stomach seemed to be a sensitive spot, kicking up a bigger reaction than his sides.

“Hahahha! Nohohot thehehere!”

“Oh? Then where?”

“I dohohon’t knohohow!”

“Aren’t you hopeless?” The bartender chucked, lighthearted, but as per Angel’s wishes, he moved spots. Instead, he began to poke and prod in between Angel’s ribs. Less sensitive than the stomach. Still, about the same as his sides.

“Wahahahaha!” As soft laughter continued to spill from the actor’s lips, not once had he asked Husk to stop. Angel must not mind being tickled.

“How do you get anything done, being so ticklish?” Husk joked, but he reached a hand to boop Angel’s nose.

“People dohohon’t reheheheally tihihickle me!” Angel tried to speak, as if it were a normal conversation and not just Husk teasing him.

“Really? It’s adorable.” Husk said, before he could stop it. Angel blushed slightly at that, but didn’t respond. Husk smiled at him, fondly. It wasn’t as though he was lying. Angel did look quite cute like this, so genuine and so sweet.

He let it go on for only a few minutes before Angel finally asked him to stop. He did, but he stayed close to Angel. Angel leaned his head on his shoulder and the both fell silent, only the sound of Angel breathing and catching his breath could be heard.

“That was fun.” Angel admitted, after a while. “I’m used to people touching me because they want my body. So when you touched me.. I panicked.”

“I’m sorry. I should have asked first.” Husk murmured, feeling guilty.

“No! You did nothing wrong.” Angel rushed to say. “I don’t mind you touching me. And you were so gentle, even when I didn’t ask you to be… it was.. nice.”

“I liked it too.” Husk whispered, feeling embarrassed. That’s when Angel looked up at him, looking in his eyes that made Husk feel flustered.

“Wouldn’t mind if we did that more often. Maybe, next time you should be on the receiving side, though~” Husk gulped.

“Don’t bother trying. I ain’t ticklish.”

“Oh? That so, Kitty? Wanna put it to the test?” Angel smirked, as he wiggled his fingers at Husk. And there it was. Typical Angel.

Still, Husk wondered why he wasn’t so bothered by his flirting this time. He did not have any time to think any more on that before Angel decided he was going to prove that Husk’s statement of “not being ticklish” was, in fact, a lie. Ha.

[mochapanda]

i was listening to a video essay today while driving around doing errands about how mental disorders are socially constructed bc even our reality is socially constructed and idk why but i kept thinking about how so many characters in adventure time would be labeled dysfunctional or mentally disabled in our awful individualistic capitalist society but bc the world of adventure time is so fucking weird and their society is so fucking weird they can all just kind of chill. some characters are even just incredibly clear allegories for very specific things (neddy, ice king, hell id argue lsp) like finn can barely last 20 minutes in a classroom and all pb says is "well at least hes street smart" there is no 504 plan no forced work ethic he needs to learn hes just allowed to fucking exist and he then becomes INCREDIBLY emotionally intelligent just by learning from other people and his experiences naturally. dude has fucking adhd and no one gives a shit bc it just. doesnt matter bc he has unconditional support anyway. he spends WEEKS hyperfixating in a dungeon after his break up with flame princess bc its the only thing that makes sense to his brain at the time, and jake ALLOWS him to stay (for weeks) after knowing he'll be able to come back bc its finns way of getting his mind back on track. in football bmo completely changes in personality and ends up having multiple freakouts/meltdowns and jake just kind of sits down next to him and says its okay to feel "donked up" in your head or heart, and even after (from finn and jakes point of view) bmo just randomly smashes up glassware theyre just super worried. bmo (and football) are able to process whatever the hells going on with them in their own way, and everyone just kind of moves on. like it doesnt even matter whether or not this was an elaborate pretend game or a metaphor for something deeper bc EITHER WAY bmo has a loving family that doesnt force him to adhere to a rigid social norm, and they only step in when he starts breaking stuff worrying hed get himself hurt (would also like to mention no violence is involved by finn or jake the entire ep, bmo simply sits on a stool with a traffic cone on his head for smashing their bathroom mirror) i could legit talk about ice king's redemption for weeks but my point is literally that considering being a homosexual was considered a mental illness like 50 years ago who the fuck knows what will still be an illness or disorder in the future. we have no way of knowing what our society could look like at any point in time and adventure time actually kind of proves this theory that any mental deviation is made up societal bullshit

[wonwoonlight]

my way to you / jeon wonwoo | chapter 12

➝ Wonwoo x fem!Reader

➝ rich!AU // heir & heiress!AU // best friends to lovers // idiots to lovers lol // fluff // a lil drama bc why not // somewhat angsty // clicheeeee <3

➝ series warning: OC is Dense with a capital D, so many cliches but idc, implied sexual activities (but no actual smut scenes), eventual suggestive scenes, theyre both idiots, food, insecurity and self doubts, somewhat toxic parents, someone fainted like once, not always proofread am sorry ;-; that’s probably it? tell me if there’s more!

➝ A/N: we're here!!! the longest chapter of them all haha. but hopefully, this chapter manages to ease your /ahem/ concern from the previous chapters 🙈🙈 i didn't expect you guys would feel that strongly on chapter 11 so the amount feedbacks was surprising 😂 anyhow, enjoy! dont hesitate to drop by my ask and share your thoughts after<3

series masterlist

series playlist; but for the later part of the chapter (you'll know😉), especially 'If You Lovingly Call My Name'

“Hey, Cheol,” you softly call for your bodyguard, telling him to sit down next to you by the stool in your kitchen. “What do you think would happen if... I go missing for a few days?”

An alarm goes off through his entire body, but the sentimental look in your eyes tells him this is more than you simply wishing to run away. This is more than whatever he has accidentally witnessed tonight.

This is you, finally having had enough that you think it’s the only way to breathe even a little.

“I… don’t think it’s wise, Miss Yoon.”

You weakly chuckle at his answer, let alone at the formal way he’s addressing you, eyes zoned in the empty glass in front of you. He sees a single tear falling across your face, one that you don’t bother to wipe and another follows right afer.

“I think it wouldn’t really matter.”

Seungcheol stays silent at this even though he wants to convince you otherwise, well aware that you still have more to say.

“All I do is make problems. You, of all people, know this. And I do them purposely too most of the time,” you start, gripping the glass in your fingers as a weak laugh escapes your lips. The sound of your chuckle saddens him, if anything, and it’s taking him everything to not just cross the professional boundary and wipe the tears falling down your face. “Maybe if… if I go somewhere for a while it’d be better for everyone.”

“Miss Yoon...” he calls you in worry.

He’s always known you’re a little lonely inside, and despite your outgoing personality and your tendency to be reckless, they’re never ill-meaning. He’s suspected you just want attention and your parents never really look at you unless you’re out making troubles.

As far as he knows, there are only a handful of people who genuinely care for you, most of them he can name himself: Chaeyoung, Jeonghan, Shua, and perhaps that Soonyoung kid, too.

Seungcheol had been wary of you at first, because being the security detail for the daughter of a wealthy family mostly means he simply has to follow them shopping and partying, making sure they’re safe from any possible threat which includes the media.

But you’ve been more than that; though you do go shopping and partying from time to time, you’re never arrogant and he wouldn’t have thought you’re from a wealthy family if not for the way you dress and the facilities your parents throw your way. You’d force him and Mr. Lee to eat with you when you can, and sometimes he’d have to trail you through the night market looking for snacks while you pretend to buy too much so he’d eat something too.

You’ve always treated him like an older brother, something that none of his former clients ever do. On top of this, you remind him of his sister back home–which means he takes his job in making sure you’re safe even more seriously than he usually does.

And then there’s Jeon Wonwoo.

Seungcheol has only worked with you for one short year, but it’s crystal clear in his eyes how head over heels Wonwoo is for you. If there’s anyone that he’s sure would be devastated because of you missing, it’s him.

He doesn’t know if you actually don’t know about his feelings or if you’re just pretending not to notice, but Wonwoo probably cares about you more than he does himself, and even Choi Seungcheol, an outsider, knows that.

“If I tell you I want to go away,” you start again, your voice small but determined. Seungcheol knows that your mind is made no matter what he says. “Will you… come with me? I know I can’t possibly go by myself, and you’d get in trouble for letting me go away.”

Seungcheol has never seen you so small, and even though he technically works for your father and not for you, he knows his consciousness wouldn’t let him be if he doesn’t come with you. With everything that’s been going on, he figures you need time by yourself and at least you still consider bringing him with you instead of making a show of going missing out of nowhere.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he says instead, accepting that if he somehow gets fired for this, at least he knows he’s helping you when you need it most.

***

Wonwoo’s losing his mind, and it’s only after he sits down on the car that he finally sees a missed call from your father. He closes his eyes in contempt as he calls him back, breath heavy and fingers balled into fist as he listens to his words.

We don’t want to attract the media. He has said. Our private investigation team is looking for her and we’d appreciate it if you can help us find my daughter without letting it known to the public that she’s missing.

Your father has sounded distraught at least, but Wonwoo really can’t be bothered to be glad about that when you’re literally missing and he didn’t have any idea since a few minutes ago.

And they say you’ve presumably been missing since that party?

Fuck. If only he didn’t think of letting you be that night, who knows if you’ll still be in your place now?

He goes straight to your place after your father asks him to do so, having the decency of not breaking into your place and simply requests Wonwoo to do it on his behalf because he knows if there’s anyone who you’d trust with the pass to your condo, it’s Jeon Wonwoo.

It’s such a weird time to respect your privacy, but it’s only possible because he has asked for the CCTV record of the last you were seen and it’s clear that you went out of your condo by yourself, about thirty minutes after Seungcheol left, somewhere around dusk.

There was no reason to break into your condo just to see if you’re simply locking yourself in or if you’re really missing.

See if… if there’s anything there that might give us a lead of where she is.

And it’s when he’s arrived at your place that he loses the entirety of his sanity because it’s empty and he can tell that you haven’t been here for days. It’s then that the situation finally hits him.

You’re missing.

You’re really missing because there are dishes on your dishwasher that you haven’t put away, and you always nag Wonwoo about it everytime he doesn’t put back cleaned dishes to its shelf because it drives you crazy to see them sitting on the drying rack.

He sees an empty lowball glass on your kitchen island, another sign that you can’t possibly be here for the last few days because you don’t like things laying around.

He tries his best to calm down, and he spends a good fifteen minutes breathing in and out before he rakes his brain to see if there’s any place that you might leave to. You could be anywhere, though he knows some of the locations he’s thinking of wouldn’t be your choice for sanctuary.

You’re still in Korea though, that much is a fact, because your father has made sure that you haven’t left the country and he’s currently tracing domestic airlines and KTX for information just in case you book a ticket to get out of the city.

They can’t trace you by signal, because you left your phone at home and Wonwoo almost cries in frustration when it rings from your bedroom. He knows you have another one, one that only he and Shua knows of, but he’s afraid you’ll turn that one off too if he tries to call. He did try to send you a message, but it won’t deliver and he can only guess you turned it off even if you have it with you.

Seungcheol is unreachable too for some reason, but Wonwoo has been leaving messages just in case he'd reply.

He’s busy making calls to his staff, telling them to contact places that you frequently visit just in case any of their people have seen you there at some point in the last three days.

It’s about two hours later, his head is pounding and he’s still in your place just in case you’ll return home, when his phone pings with notification and Wonwoo’s immediately runs out of the house.

1 New Message from Choi Seungcheol

Seungcheol is worried.

You haven’t spoken since the both of you have arrived in this place, which was about three days ago.

The only time you talk to him is when he asks if you want to eat, which, most of the time, you say no to. He still makes sure that you’re eating a proper meal at least once a day though, and he’s glad that you still have it in you to know that you do need at least that much.

He’s unsure too if he’s here as your guard or as a friend. Either way, there’s very little he can do about your situation.

At first, he thinks you simply need the time and place to be by yourself, away from that life and anyone that might remind you of it. But he has never expected you’d close up and just… not do anything. You’re either in your room doing God knows what or you’re on the porch staring into nothing.

He has never seen you with your phone either, and he’s sure of this because you leave it on the coffee table since the day you arrived there and you’ve never touched it again. He doesn’t think it’s even turned on.

You’re so… empty.

Seungcheol has never been one to poke into people’s business, but the situation is getting gradually concerning that he can’t help but feel like he needs to interfere. He’s promised you that he won’t tell anyone, but if this keeps going on…

He keeps on seeing his sister in you, and he knows he wouldn’t want her to go through this alone if he can help. He takes this job as a bodyguard because it’s in his nature to want to be able to protect people. Right now, doing nothing would only mean the opposite of that.

It hurts to see you this way, so after a few days pass and you don’t seem like you’re going to get any better, Seungcheol decides it’s time to do something and he knows there’s only one person he can trust and will be able to help.

You sigh as the sun sets once again. The day seems to be moving both too fast and too slow at this place and you're not sure yet if it's a good thing or not. You don’t even realize you’ve been there for days.

You're currently in the lake house you personally own, one that your parents don't know you have because you purchased it for that very reason: to escape from them when the time calls for it. It’s only a little far off Seoul, near enough that you’re not exactly out of the city, but not too far away that you need to drive for hours.

The last time you came here to do exactly that was just a few months ago, and, frankly, you didn't expect to be returning here this quickly. You didn't even stay for that long that time, you just slept over for the night and pretended like nothing happened the next day.

You can't do that now.

Not when your parents' words and Wonwoo's mom's won't stop ringing in your head.

Are you that bad of a person?

You know you're not exactly an angel, but did you do something so wrong to deserve being called nothing but trouble? To be told that you should be ashamed?

It hurts even more because Wonwoo’s mom is a gentle soul, one that only complains once in a while and rarely has anything bad to say about other people. So to hear those words from her…

You exhale as you reach for the tissue to wipe your tears, already used to this after having gone through it for the past few days. It's a little exaggerating, but it feels like crying is the only thing you've been doing the past few days.

You hate this side of you, you really do. Because you're the type of person who's rarely bothered about practically anything, but you fall way too deep into a pit of negativity once you are.

You either care too much or not at all--there's no in between.

Seungcheol knocks on the door, and you hear the sound of the door opening a little before you glance at the clock to see it's time for dinner. You don't particularly feel like eating, even more after a crying episode. So you tell him you'll just eat later and he can eat first before he can even utter the question.

He doesn't say anything, but you hear the door softly closing behind you so you assume Seungcheol has, for once, easily accepted your unwillingness to eat dinner without asking one more time to see if you'll change your mind.

"How many meals have you skipped, exactly?"

The familiar voice startles you that you actually sit up and turn at once. You look at Wonwoo in shock, mouth a little ajar and failing to form actual words.

Wonwoo doesn't seem to care though, because, the next thing you know, he's made his way to you and you're pulled into his embrace.

He's shaking for some reason, and you haven't really registered what's happening but it's clear how worried Wonwoo is from the way he's holding you. You can feel the desperation from his grip, and it's Wonwoo’s muffled voice that snaps you back to reality.

"Do you know how worried I was--" he breathes heavily, his arms tightening around you as if afraid you'll disappear into thin air. "How can you leave just like that?"

“I--”

“Why would you leave just like that?” he says once again, his voice shaky.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you finally manage to say, fingers gripping the material of his shirt. He’s still in his work attire, you realize at last, and you feel bad for most likely making him leave his work for you. “How--how did you know I'm here?”

He pulls away at your question, his hands cupping your face and his eyes go through so much emotions in the span of seconds that you’re not sure what he’s thinking about. “Is that really important now? Why… why did you even leave?”

You flinch at your name, always feeling like you mess up big time everytime he calls you by your name instead of the usual nicknames he uses to call you.

“Sorry, I just… I… need time to think by myself.”

“And you couldn’t have told me?” He doesn’t sound angry, which only makes you feel worse. He sounds confused and helpless--as if not getting why you’d do such thing.

And he really doesn’t; because you always tell him everytime you want to be alone, tell him that you’re not going to be reachable and that he shouldn’t worry.

“Is it because of the fight the other day?”

But this? Apparently you’ve been gone for the last three days and he only finds out literally this morning, which makes his brain go haywire that he’s practically dysfunctional after that even though he tries his best to keep it together.

Why would you go MIA for days? And you didn’t inform anyone--not him, not your cousins, not Chaeyoung. At least you’re sensible enough to bring Seungcheol with you, but all sorts of scenarios went through his mind for the whole day and none of them was able to comfort him in the slightest way.

“No…” you say with a small voice, a pitiful attempt to defend yourself. You were so upset that day, so angry and overrun with emotion that Wonwoo fell victim to it. You know it’s also because you’ve been conflicted about your feelings for him and it’s on you that you choose to avoid him instead of facing him head on and figure it out from there.

You regret yelling at him immediately after the words are out your mouth, the crestfallen look on his face as you call for Seungcheol to escort him out is still fresh in your mind. How dare you do that to him?

“I… um… I… Sorry, I know you’re busy and… yeah.”

“Stop lying to me,” he pleads, and you know he’s overwhelmed with his own emotion, that he’s upset and he’s worried. But you’re not sure how to tell him what’s bothering you when most of them roots back to him. His grip on you is desperate, and you can easily detect the frustration in his eyes. “Please don’t… don’t lie to me. When has it ever mattered that I’m busy?”

His tone hurts, and perhaps it’s also the fact that you’ve been holding it by yourself, that you know you need Wonwoo with you but you’re too wrapped up with your own feelings that you’d rather suffer by yourself; that you’ve been imagining yourself in the comfort of his arm that you’re denying yourself of, but the dam that you’ve been holding together finally breaks free the moment you hear those words from him.

Wonwoo panics when you suddenly sob into his shoulder, his arms circling your figure once again in comfort. He doesn’t quite get what you’re saying, but you’re shaking your head and your fingers are gripping clothes and the whole thing hurts.

He has never seen you this vulnerable, has never witnessed you break down so hard that you can’t even string words together and you can only cry and cry.

He doesn’t hesitate to remind you that he’s there, to firmly hold on to you, to tell you that he’s there and it’s okay even if you’re unable to say everything at once. Wonwoo feels your grip tightening and he's sure you’ll leave a mark on his shirt, but he doesn’t really care and he just wishes that there’s any way to make you feel better.

It’s quite some time until your sob turns into hiccups, and you’re looking down on your lap when you finally pull away from him. He hates seeing you this way, so small and so unsure like you feel bad for crying in front of him.

Wonwoo gently cups your face so you’ll meet his eyes, and he kind of regrets it because your eyes are red and there are traces of tears on your face. You look so vulnerable, so exhausted that it breaks his heart more than it already is.

He tries to say something--anything that might be able to comfort you, but now that he’s looking at you like this, he doesn’t know if there’d be words that would be able to comfort you at this point.

You’re looking at him uneasily; like you have something in your mind that you want to talk about but, at the same time, you’re holding yourself back from saying whatever it is that you want to say out loud.

“You don’t have to explain right now if you’re not ready,” he gently reminds you, his thumb caressing the side of your face. He sees you close your eyes and lean into his touch and, for a moment, it almost feels like you didn’t spend more than a week not talking to each other, like the fight didn’t happen--like it’s just one of your bad days and he’s just here to be there for you.

But then you open your eyes and there’s a glint that he’s never seen before. Wonwoo doesn’t know how long do you two spend just looking at each other; it might be seconds, it might be minutes--or it might be hours for all he knows, but he can’t quite tell what it is about the silence enveloping you both this time that feels different.

Is it because you haven’t spoken to each other during those times? Or is it because you literally broke down in front of him just a few minutes ago? Whatever it is, it’s unfamiliar and Wonwoo is having a hard time reading you at this very moment.

You won’t move your eyes from his, and what he can easily tell is that you’re thinking real hard right now. You’re hesitating to do something and it takes everything in him not to just ask because he’s still unsure how to approach you like this.

After what feels like forever has passed, Wonwoo’s about to open his mouth and ask what’s bothering you when you move forward and press your lips against his. It’s barely even a kiss, because you pull away after one second and you look just as surprised as he is. But before either of you can think too much, Wonwoo refuses to waste a second to lean forward and kisses you properly this time.

His lips feel warm against yours, and even though you don’t feel fireworks or butterflies in your stomach, you feel your body buzzing with warmth that feels like home. Like you’ve found something that you didn’t know you were looking for.

One of his hands moves to your waist, the other firmly on the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss when he feels your hands on his shoulders, bodies pressed against each other like you can’t afford to physically be apart.

Your head is spinning, but, for once, you like it and you don’t wish it to end. Wonwoo pulls away to breathe, and it’s not one second later that his lips start wandering to your jaw and then the side of your neck. It’s the sound of your whine that gets him pulling away the second time, his heavy breath hitting your neck as he plants his forehead against your shoulder.

He tenses when he feels your fingers combing his hair and gently pushing his head closer to your neck, as if urging him to continue. “Don’t--I… I won’t be able to stop.”

Wonwoo pulls away when you don’t say anything, only to find you looking like you’re lost in a daze and he can only guess that he’s sprouting the same look; your breath is uneven, your lips are a little swollen, and it blows his mind that you’re looking like this because of him. You don’t say anything when he stares into your eyes, simply returns his gaze even though your face is already flushing from the intensity of it.

“I don’t remember asking you to stop,” you whisper at last, drunk in emotion.

So Wonwoo doesn’t.

Wonwoo wakes up later than usual, and it’s when he realizes he’s holding someone by his side that his consciousness jolts awake.

His eyes immediately soften at the sight of you, your fingers weakly gripping the side of his shirt and another tucked under your head as you’re still deep in sleep. It feels surreal, and he’s still convinced that it’s all a dream until you stir and scoot closer to him.

You hum in your sleep, and Wonwoo finds himself pulling you even closer until he can feel your breath against his neck.

It’s probably 8 in the morning, but his phone isn’t blasting yet with notifications so he can only imagine that Chan is already doing damage control before any damage could even occur. He holds back a proud huff at the thought of the younger guy, his fingers absentmindedly combing through your hair as he thinks about giving him the raise he deserves for putting up with all the canceled schedules and whatnot for the past few weeks.

Wonwoo doesn’t know how long he stays like that, with you plastered against him and his fingers waving through your hair, basking in the soft sound of your breath. After some time, he feels your fingers tighten and he looks down to find you waking up, blinking continuously like you’re trying to grasp the situation you’re in.

“Won?” Your sleepy voice greets him not long after, and he simply hums as he smiles down at you when you look up at him.

“Slept well?”

“Mhm,” you nod, your hand that was gripping his shirt moves to hug him instead. “You?”

He chuckles and drops a kiss on top of your head, still convinced that this is a long dream that’s too good to be true. “Never better. How are you feeling?”

You groan at the question, and Wonwoo laughs when you turn away from him but quickly pulls you back to his chest and kisses your exposed shoulder in the process. You shudder at the sudden warmth of his lips, a contrast to how cold the room is, and Wonwoo grins when he sees goosebumps across your arm.

“I told you to put on a long sleeved pajama, didn’t I?”

“Are you gonna nag me first thing in the morning?” you snicker, though you can’t help but smile so widely that your cheeks hurt.

“Really though,” he asks, his lips grazing your shoulder still. “How are you feeling?”

You huff before you turn around, and you feel so stupid for never realizing how beautiful Wonwoo is, especially with the sunlight hitting him just right like now. Perhaps it’s just your eyes filtered with infatuation, but you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen Wonwoo quite as beautiful as he looks like right now; with his hair all over the place and eyes so full of love that you could burst.

“We’ll talk about it later?” you ask quietly, not really wanting to talk about it as soon as you wake up. Wonwoo nods in understanding, hugs you tighter for a moment before pulling away then tells you to wash up and get ready for breakfast. “Are we going out?”

“Do you feel like going out?”

“Not really, no,” you bite your lip, mind still heavy with thoughts that have been weighing you down for days now.

At least you don’t have to think about your feelings towards the man in front of you anymore even though you’ll still have to talk about it–there’s no use in denying it after the event yesterday.

You half expected him to want to talk about it last night, but you don’t think you’d ever forget the way he simply told you to stay put as he went to the bathroom and ran the bath for you, how he helped you to the bathtub, told you to relax, and placed a chaste kiss on your lips before he left, telling you to call for him if you need help after you’re done.

And when you had stepped out of the bathroom, Wonwoo’s all washed up too, probably took a shower in the other bathroom, sitting on your bed with a comfy sweater and pajama pants that you suspect to be Seungcheol’s.

He looked up with a soft smile and patted the seat next to him. You naturally curled into his embrace, and Wonwoo didn’t even bring up the whole thing as he talked about everything that wasn’t related to whatever problem that had been bothering you; about your last holiday together to Athens, about the puppy that basically lives in Shua’s studio even though no one knows whose it is, about the possible locations you should go to for your next trip, and so on.

You didn’t even remember falling asleep even though it’s the best sleep you’ve had in months.

“Are you listening to me?” His voice snaps you back to reality, an amused smile greets you when your eyes focus back to him. Wonwoo chuckles at your dazed look, and he bites his lips hard to stop himself from kissing you right there and then.

“Go shower, okay? I’ll prepare breakfast,” he says instead and pulls you to get up with him. Wonwoo pushes you to the bathroom before he gets ready himself using the empty bedroom next to yours.

He finishes before you do, so Wonwoo goes through the fridge to see if there’s any ingredients he can use to make breakfast for you. He finds nothing but bread though, which should be okay because you can’t eat a heavy meal for breakfast anyway.

He’s minding his own business, stirring his warm tea as he waits for the toaster to ping when he feels you hugging him from behind.

If he’s being honest, Wonwoo isn’t sure what to make of this side of you. You’ve always been touchy with people around you, leaning your head on someone’s shoulder, linking your arms with the other person’s, a kiss on the cheek as a greeting, and the list goes on. He guesses it might have to do with the fact that your parents have never been physically affectionate towards you, not even when you were a kid, so you take care of the lack of physical affection elsewhere.

But this… he can’t explain it, but it’s different. Perhaps he’s just blinded by his own affection too, at the thought that, most likely, you really do return his feelings, so he’s making things up in his head. But your hold feels different since last night, and, if he’s going to take it a notch higher, even the way you look at him now makes his heart flutter inside.

“Hungry yet?” He decides to break the silence. You tighten your arms at the question and Wonwoo feels you shaking your head against his back, whispering a little ‘not really’ though you’ll gladly eat anyway. It’s been quite some time since you actually feel like eating even though you’re not exactly hungry.

The both of you settle on the living room instead of the dinner table, one of his arms around your waist, your legs thrown over his lap and your head resting against his shoulder. You’re nibbling on your toast as Wonwoo looks around, wondering where Seungcheol might be.

“He probably went out for a run,” you say even before he asks, eyes staring into spaces like you’re in a trance. “Or for whatever it is he does for exercise.”

“Yeah?” he muses, kissing your head. He can’t stop doing that, he feels like, there’s just this sudden urge to keep on placing his lips upon you everytime you’re close to him and, fortunately for him, you’re always nearby. “Is that what he’s been doing?”

“He doesn’t… really need to protect me here,” you wince a little, feeling bad for the guy. You move away from him a little to put your half eaten meal back to its plate on the coffee table, and then settles back down on his lap as you play with the material of his hoodie. “Or, well, I guess he has to make sure I wouldn’t run away for real. But he already knows I just… umm… need space for myself and I promised I have no plans to step out of the house at all.”

You feel his arm twitch around you, and the slight change in the air tells you that the talk is coming. You take a deep breath and brace yourself to start talking about it, heart beating a little louder because, truthfully, you’re afraid. What if Wonwoo finally realizes how heavy of a luggage you are? What if he decides that he doesn’t want to stick around anymore after this? What if–

“Stop thinking so much,” he mumbles against your hair, and despite the fact that you know Wonwoo has always been able to read you like an open book, it still surprises you from time to time. “You don’t have to tell me now if you’re not ready.”

“No, I…” you hesitate, head full of all sorts of things that you can already feel a headache coming. You’re nervous to talk about it, but you know that Wonwoo deserves to know and you owe him that much after ignoring and avoiding him for so long. He’s your best friend before anything, for God's sake, most likely one of the best people in your life and you’re treating him like that just because you’re confused? “I want to… tell you about it. Just…”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reminds you, and you can feel his gaze even though you’re not even looking at him, your eyes casted down to his side, catching a glimpse of his hand awkwardly sitting near his thigh. You reach for his hand and play with his fingers, something that you only do when you’re extremely nervous–a habit that he’s always found endearing though he never says it out loud. “You can take your time.”

So you do.

You spend about fifteen minutes gathering your thoughts, absentmindedly meddling with his fingers and finding comfort in the pattern of his breath. And then you need another fifteen to gather your courage and start to talk about what’s happened.

You’re not sure where to begin, but one of the best things about Jeon Wonwoo is that he listens. Even when you’re messy and all over the place, your words barely make sense and you’re jumping through timelines, he listens.

He stays silent as you tell him about everything; about how your feelings have been all over the place, how they’re overwhelming you and you don’t know how to deal with them, about your parents and the things they told you that day. You feel his other hand holds you tighter, your heart softens at the automatic way he turns protective.

“Like I said, they told me I should be ashamed of myself for… yeah.” Your voice gets gradually smaller as you continue on, and before Wonwoo can ask, you continue because you’re guilty and there’s this need to come clean with him. “I didn’t… I didn’t sleep with him, Won.”

You wince at your own words, feeling extremely stupid now that you’re here, on his lap, talking about the night you tried to prove yourself that you don’t see Wonwoo that way only to find the universe making a joke out of you.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, but it’s true what people say about guilty conscience–you just wish to clarify that it’s not what it seemed like.

“I promise I didn’t. We…” you close your eyes and take a deep breath, and despite the jealousy burning in his chest as he recalls the situation, Wonwoo caresses the skin underneath your shirt comfortingly, telling you in his silent way that you don’t need to feel bad about it. “I… We… We were already at the hotel but… But you’re just… on my mind and I…”

You’re tearing up, and Wonwoo gently shushes you to calm you down, the familiar touch of his hand pushes you to his neck and you close your eyes for a good five seconds, his scent relaxing you, before you release a deep breath and continue.

You tell him honestly about how it came to be, your talk with Shua and the denial that followed, how you left Chaeyoung in the club because you’re way too busy fighting with yourself–how you’re in denial and you felt the need to prove that Chaeyoung’s wrong only to prove yourself wrong.

(You’re pretty sure she’d be screaming at you if not for the fact that she also knew your parents paid you a visit the morning after. You made sure to make Seungcheol send her a bouquet of white roses as an apology, something that Chaeyoung instantly knew to be your way of telling her you’re truly sorry but you’re not in a good mental space to meet anyone just yet.)

His heart beats a little faster at the implication of your words, but he knows you’re not done and it’s not the time to talk about it just yet. He encourages you to continue, you’re still playing with his fingers and his other hand is rubbing your back in comfort.

Now that you’re buried in his neck and you don’t have to see his eyes, you figure it’s time to tell him about Jennie too. At first, Wonwoo keeps his silence when you tell him that your six years old self was afraid that she’d take you away from him. That, at first, it was just that until awkwardness seeped in and it stacks up throughout the years so you just don’t know how to talk to her at all now.

You take another deep breath when you eventually tell him about what it is about her that has always made you feel like you need to keep a distance from the girl; how seeing her hurts because she feels like a reflection that you can only see from afar. Like a bad dream that’s scary because it’s a little too real.

That your heart longs to be treated like her parents treat her. That, to you, it means that you’re the reason why your parents treat you like an object. Because if it’s possible for Jennie, someone whose stand in this society is practically the same as you, to be treated like a precious child, then there’s probably something wrong with you for your parents to not treat you that way.

Wonwoo goes still under you, even his fingers that you’re holding tense a bit, and when you look up to meet his eyes, his eyes are full of pain and his mouth are a little ajar, as if unsure what to say at the revelation.

He’s not sure why, but the fact that you’re not crying hurts him even more. You sound resigned, like you’re sure that you’re the problem and not your parents, like you’ve accepted that it’s all on you. He’s about to say something, but he sees the telltale of you hesitating so he stops himself and waits yet again.

And, as if it doesn’t hurt him enough already, you tell him that you heard what his mom said the other day at the party. This time, Wonwoo doesn’t wait to cut you off and reassure you that he doesn’t think you’re any problem at all, that his mom has got it wrong and she was just being nosy because one of his distant cousins have just announced their engagement though it still doesn’t excuse her words.

He even apologizes, but you tell him that he doesn’t need to and that she’s probably right.

“No, no.” He shifts to look you in the eyes, and the small smile in your face feels like a slap in the face because he’s never seen you this refrained, so resigned and even a little empty. You’re his best friend, the dearest person in his life, the only person who stubbornly breaks through his wall when no one else bothers to even try, the one who nags him to do his dishes manually even though he literally has a helper and a dishwasher in the case that Mrs. Shin is unable to come, the one who drags him out of his shell when needs it most even though, often times, he doesn’t even know he needs it.

You don’t only brighten his bad days; you light up his life and Wonwoo has never seen your light so dull–so soulless that it breaks his heart. Have you been carrying these thoughts by yourself?

“I love you.” is the only thing that he manages to say. You snap your gaze to him in shock, not expecting it at all–sure, with last night happening and the nature of your relationship, it’s pretty clear that he returns your feelings, but to hear Wonwoo say those words out loud— “And… I know it wouldn’t help your situation, but I feel like you need to hear that… I love you, and even though I might not be able to change how your parents make you feel, I want you to know that there’s always someone who thinks you’re the most important person in the world, someone who can’t be without you. Do you know how dysfunctional I was when I heard you’re missing?”

You blush under his intense gaze, cheeks warming up despite the way you’re disoriented just a few seconds ago, because, frankly, you’ve never expected to hear Wonwoo verbally tell you about how he feels. Wonwoo has never been one to explicitly express his feelings, and even though he’s better at sharing them with you than with any other person, it’s still not something that he often does. Just every once in a while when he feels like he’s almost at his limit and he knows he’s going to burst else.

His finger gently lifts your chin so you’ll look at him, and it’s just so easy to drown in his eyes and lose yourself in them that you find yourself staring back at him without saying anything, heartbeats loud in your ears and blood rushes to your face.

Has Wonwoo always had this effect on you?

You have no idea, but you’re not exactly complaining even though the feelings are annoying because you’re pretty sure your heart is about to burst just about any moment if Wonwoo stares at you just a few seconds too long.

“You matter, okay?” This is the most Wonwoo has ever said when he’s comforting you. It’s foreign, but it eases your heart in ways that you can’t understand. He’d usually just pull you into his embrace and hold you tight there until you move to pull away, his fingers rub comforting circles on your back and he never gets tired of reminding you that he’s going to be there until whenever it gets better.

You’re not complaining though, whatever way he thinks is the best way to comfort you, you’re just glad you have Wonwoo back by your side.

“I can’t–don’t–want to imagine a life where I don’t have you with me and I hope that means something to you. I know you’ve heard this a lot, but you’re a lot more than what your parents made you think you are. And when you feel like you’re not worth it, please remember that I’m literally proof that you’re wrong.”

You’re openly sobbing now, arms tight around his neck as your tears trailing down his skin. The position is uncomfortable, but Wonwoo readily pulls you tighter against him and your body is fully pressed against him as you cry at his words.

“I don’t–I don’t deserve you, you know that?” you hiccup through your sentence, and then you cry harder when Wonwoo shakes his head and gives you a small smile like you’re a child who doesn’t know what you’re talking about. He leans forward to kiss your forehead, whispering that it’s not your call to make and that he wants you with him.

He’s exceptionally eloquent in expressing his feelings today, even he’s surprised that he’s able to tell you all these things out loud; things that he’s always kept deep in his heart and thought would forever be locked there without seeing the lights of day.

But perhaps seeing you so lost and empty helps.

Wonwoo tends to be quiet. It’s something that everyone has come to accept, and no one bothers him to speak more just for the sake of it. But Wonwoo has never thought it to be a problem because you understand him even if he doesn’t say anything. You know what to do and what to say when no one else does because Wonwoo himself finds it bothersome to say anything.

But here you are at this moment, feeling worthless like you could just disappear off the earth at that second and so sure that no one would care.

How could he stay silent when you’re like that?

“You’re literally the reason why I’m still standing on my feet,” he chuckles a little at his own words, his cheek pressed against the top of your head. “I’d probably be a hermit if not for you.”

You laugh despite your tears, and you thank him when he hands you a tissue then wipe your face with it. Your vision is still blurry, as you’re still crying even though the sob has died down now. You don’t mind though, because even though your feelings are all over the place and you’re not even sure why you’re crying, you know it’s not because you’re upset.

It’s quite the opposite, actually. And it’s funny how Wonwoo rarely says anything but the moment the dam breaks and he’s letting out all these words he’s been keeping to himself, your feelings are thrown all over the place and suddenly you’re feeling everything at once.

You have never understood when people say Wonwoo is cold. Wonwoo has always been warm to you, his arms always feel like home and you can’t possibly find a place more comfortable than with Wonwoo by your side.

It’s really a mystery to you how Wonwoo manages to hold you even tighter, but you really don’t care because the only thing that you care about right now is you’re with him.

You’re home–and that’s the only thing you could ask for.

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.

A/N: hehehehhhh they're finally together😭😭

taglist: @hoe4wonwoo@dnylwoo@yslshua@twogyuu@najaemin138@blueixnie@boowanie@pwettytae@itsveronicaxxx@aphrodyteeth@leechanniee@jeoonghann@sdoulc@kyeomjjigae@ru-lin@listxn@yngreid@vynnz@lilactangerine@justasoftstan@amymoonl@02psh@lovelywoo@pusangmamon@yoontaedotin@soonchanshua@fanfic24@nothingbutadeadesceane@nollixtrml@sweetheart-gs@rjsmochii@dowoonwoodealer@babyjagihoney

[qvid-pro-qvo]

🌺 for Emily Prentiss/Olivia Benson? Hey, why not? Even if it doesn't work out long term they'd be burning bright for at least a little while.

wait no this is so fun let’s pretend this timeline works

but hear me out so they meet when liv is detective and once emily gets back from doyle the first time, before she goes to the bau

they meet at a new york bar after a rough case for svu, and liv slumps into a stool a few seats away from emily, who’s doing her best to remember what being back in the states, being “home” feels like

emily finds her eyes roaming over this woman who’s still wearing her badge, who has her hair chopped on top and a sleeveless shirt that shows perfect arms and a long neck

and when liv gets her bearings enough to look up, she sees emily on the other end, who’s nursing her own drink and has big dark eyes that look just this side of knowing

but her hair is dark and long and curls around her face, and when she smirks and tilts her chin liv gets the message

takes another drink

goes over to her

“you do know this is a cop bar, right?” liv asks, glancing around the space with a raised brow

“maybe i’m a cop,” emily responds, and liv just laughs

“no. you’re probably too smart to be a cop.”

they end up going to liv’s together, and when all is said and done they’re laughing with each other — because emily brings liv back down from the edge and liv reminds emily what it’s like to feel like your body is your own again

they share a cigarette between fierce kisses and emily leaves the next morning with liv’s shirt on and theyre in each other’s phones for the next time em is in town

so when she joins the bau and they end up in new york every so often? he gives liv a visit

it’s fun

it’s needed

until liv gets a little too deep with someone who doesn’t want to be known and em feels a little too much too close to when shit hits the fan

and it ends.... bad

and then emily is dead

and the next time they see each other, they’re captain olivia benson, and unit chief emily prentiss, and things aren’t the same but they share a drink, and they think about how far they might’ve fallen if they hadn’t been at that bar on a rainy night

also liv goes to paris with tucker because she talked about it so much after being with emily because that was emily’s favorite place and scene

[delusionland]

@regeneratingdegenerate​ [ peter B. & wade. lets just pretend we’ve discussed this and theyre already best friends LOL listen, ]

“How did it get this bad?” Peter breathes in long & hard through flared nostrils, wide, tired red eyes. His breath stinks of coffee & his costume reeks of the coppery, burnt smell of fried wires. His still warm, chalky grey glovetips seem to twitch as he drags the pads of his fingers down his mask. He’s half tempted to let them stay stuck to his face, before he retracts them and all but dumps his face flat on his cheek on the counter. It’s too late for him. His slouch has gone too far this time. He’s given himself completely over to his flair for the dramatic & stupid. 

The aging waitress behind the counter doesn’t seem to mind. She re-fills Peter’s coffee and keeps it moving. (This is New York. There are crazy people having breakdowns in Spider-Man costumes every night. Nothing special to see here, really. Besides, this particular Crazy comes in all the time, often with other Crazies wearing costumes. Who can keep up with it all?)

“I went to college.” Peter drones, eyes finally closing, after committing to watch this thing 24/7, NO forgetting about it or neglecting it, Scout’s Honor. “I had a business! I’m a superhero! And I can’t even take care of a sack of flour?”

The sack of flour sits on the red stool between them---punctured straight through the middle from the top to the cartoonish safety pin on the diaper. The paper is charred---the contents still there slightly cooked. Peter has put a literal smiley-face band-aid on the thing, but he’s given up on even finding glue. What’s the point? It’s clear that he’s failed. And Miles is going to get an F on his project. And he’s never going to be able to be a good Father and Mary Jane is never going to take him back and---

“What’s wrong with me?”

[catharrington]

angsty sappy prompt where steve & billy arent together but they have a thing then something happens between them and steve kisses someone else in a drunken fit then goes to billy and billy gets rlly sad and soft bc theyre afraid of how much they like each other

Bullshit is ringing between Steve’s ears as he floats, hovering just barely stable in Robin’s kitchen, and gulps down another drink. His toes are curled inside of his shoes. The alcohol in his cup is swallowed down before the ice can melt. And in the living room he hears Duran Duran playing loud enough to drown out the voice inside of his head yelling he isn’t good enough.

There’s a sweep over his shoulder and down his arm. Steve turns to see Zach, a tall, tall guy he remembered from the basketball team and has been hanging off his arm all night. Two years out of highscool and out of relationships but he still knows eyes that linger when he sees them. Still knows what it’s like to long and crave, and hunger.

‘Hungry like the wolf’ starts playing just as Zach slips the empty glass from Steve’s fingers. Replacing them with his own long ones. Steve turns to face him, then flicks his eyes up to Zach’s pretty black hair. His pretty black eyes. Long, long lashes.

“Maybe you’ve had enough,” Zach tries, “lets get back to the party and dance?”

“Why can’t we dance right here?” Steve pulls on his arm, gets it straight and taught, and makes Zach stand flush to his chest. Lifts their joint hands to his shoulder while the other starts playing with the edge of Zach’s shirt right on the hip.

There’s a laugh, a slap as Zach has to use his other arm to brace on the counter quickly so they don’t fall in their swaying. “Stevie,” their noses nudge together in closeness, “I wanna drive you back home- you’re drunk!”

“I live two apartments down, Zachy, why don’t you just walk me? Save some gas?”

That gets Zach groaning. Steve pulls his arm taught to lead him out of the kitchen and past a sputtering Robin. Sloshing her drink around and calling something important after him, but Steve doesn’t listen. He gets Zach out into the hallway. It’s a miracle he doesn’t fall as the soft carpet turns to slick hardwood.

“This is my place,” Steve spots the golden letters nailed to the door and leans against it. Letting his almost dead weight crash the door in. Zach doesn’t waste a moment and follows, crowding Steve up to the door with one elbow next to his head and their hands still holding.

“Inside?” Zach asks shortly, leering down at Steve from his inches he has on him. It makes Steve feel kept, feel wanted. Hell, maybe it makes him feel good enough.

Steve reaches one hand up to trace along Zachs jaw, fingertips stabbing the underside, and leans in for a quick kiss. Zach scoots his hand closer to cradle the back of Steve’s head holding him there. They move to either side, let their lips search and move as they take and take. Steve whimpers soft and low into the kiss, because his eyes are burning wet.

He draws back first, shocked as much as Zach is, blinking back tears. He sucks in a breath just to try and clear his head. It doesn’t quite work.

“Stevie,” Zach starts. He bends in to press another kiss, but Steve turns and he only pecks the corner of gin glossy lips.

Steve can’t say he doesn’t want, because god he wants. Can’t say he isn’t hungry, because yes he craves swollen sporty arms boxing him in against the wood. But Steve doesn’t know how to say he doesn’t feel a thing. His stomach is soured with its emptiness. Maybe he drank too much on too little dinner. But he hasn’t had lunch or breakfast, for that matter. So Steve can’t seem to form the right words.

“I’m tired,” he says.

“Let me take you to bed then?” Zach is leering. His dark brows high on his forehead.

“I- ah... no, no, not tonight. My- my roommate is home. I shouldn’t.” Steve searches for the words and lets them flow as they come.

Zach, for all the hours Steve has gotten to know him that night, surprises him as he backs off. Dragging his arm heavy down the door and untangles his fingers with Steve’s. “I’ve got your number,” he says as much as he asks, “and now I know where you live,” he smiles.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Sure,” he runs his hand across Zach’s jaw again, it’s not as warm he he wishes. Doesn’t burn. “Give me a call.”

Then his black hair is disappearing down the hallway and around the corner. Steve watches it go, before he tentatively turns the knob.

Inside, their small two bedroom smells like warm spice. There’s a whisper of a rolling boil, and louder than that a humming from the kitchen. Steve steps out of his shoes and drops his coat and keys where they may before he lets the smell hook his nose and drag him.

Billy is cooking something in a huge metal pot. Stirring it with a huge spoon, one hand leafing through a book, and humming. Steve might recognize it as Black Sabbath, some soft low heavy shit. But he doesn’t say.

“Smells so good, Bill,” he does say. Heaving himself up into one of their counter stools. “You haven’t cooked in so long- like, so long.”

Billy shrugs. Doesn’t turn around. “Haven’t been hungry.” Steve bites at the bottom of his lip. Brings his thumb up to toy with it when it’s nice and swollen. Watches Billy’s arm flex as he stirs the pot. He’s so hungry.

“Making it for the house, right? I’m so drunk and I’ve got the taste of this random guy in my mouth I just have to get out,” Steve rambles when he doesn’t mean to. Overshares and digs holes, it’s his stick. He screws his eyes shut and curses himself. Billy’s humming is gone. The voices inside Steve’s head are back reminding him he isn’t worth shit.

Steve closes his eyes and misses the way Billy’s arm flexes. How he rips at the corner of his cooking book’s paper just a tad.

“Of course, pretty boy. You know you’re welcome to help yourself. I mean- you would if I just left it in the fridge anyway.” Billy rolls his shoulders back and tries to laugh off their stiffness but it’s hard. It’s so hard.

“Guilty,” Steve sings. He pretends to laugh right along side Billy.

Then there’s a shallow wooden bowl clicking down on the counter in front of Steve. A spoon dipped into the thick yellow sauce. “Curry,” Billy explains with a tick of his full lips, a pretty turn up of his kissable red smile, “not the best for a midnight snack, but it’s good for comfort food.”

Steve’s fingers pass Billy’s as he takes the spoon. They are hot, just as warm as the steam rolling off the curry. He imagines he hears a shivering exhale, but it might just be his imagination. “I hope it’s good for hangovers!” Steve yelps out interrupting his own thoughts.

He’s earned a soft nod, another smile. And Billy is looking down at his own bowl poking at the hot food. “So who’s the lucky asshole who left a bad taste in your mouth?” He asks.

Steve blows on a spoofull of food like a child, takes the bite, then talks with his mouth open, “Zach- uh, some guy from high school. He’s alright. Thinking about loosing his number down the drain though.”

“His breath that rank?” Billy’s hands stop playing with his food. His eyes are cast down and focusing on the movement of Steve’s lips.

Steve takes another bite. Doesn’t know how to say I was imaging your ugly mustache, I was hoping for someone warmer like you. Doesn’t know how to call out Billy on watching his lips like he wants to kiss him. Steve really really doesn’t know how to ask if that means more. How to admit that he wants that to mean more.

So he chews. Tries to forget Billy only pulls out his mom’s cook book from California when he gets sad. Swallows, and watches Billy’s eyes follow his Adam’s apple move with it.

“I like to keep my options open,” he settles on. “I’m not really the relationship type. Don’t want to break any hearts.”

Billy laughs and looks down at the counter. His hair soft in the glow of only a single light behind him. The rest of the apartment almost black. Steve hasn’t noticed until now that Billy’s hair has gotten long since the last time he let Steve run his fingers though it. Grip it hard. Pull his head back as he kissed him.

Steve reaches his claws out, forgetting his food and his self for just a cloudy drunken moment, and touches the tip of one ringlet curl.

“Open,” Billy repeats in a soft tone.

“Bill,” Steve tugs. He’s hungry, wants attention, those blue eyes back on him. “Can we eat on your bed? Take this to go, I mean?”

The curl gets pulled from Steve’s hands with a sharp shake of his head. Billy pushs up off the counter, leaves his bowl to get cold. “You’re drunk, Steve. Go to sleep.”

Breathing in one shaky breath, letting out a long tendril of smoke; Steve steadies his hand from shivering so bad the spoon falls from it. Billy’s door closes on the far end of their two bed room apartment. He’s back in silence. Back to not being good enough.

[angrylizardjacket]

when i said it i thought it was true [1] {Ben Hardy}

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where ben is the reader’s ex and they are somehow working together on the set of bo rhap and they fall in love all over again ☺️ could you make it angst-y and then end with fluff? i love your writing so much!!

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where the reader is in bo rhap, maybe playing as one of roger’s gfs or something and she kind of falls in love with ben while filming the scenes with him as roger 💖 very fluffy pls :D

A/N: 3124 words. Super AU version of BoRhap being filmed in the fic. There’s gonna be another part, that will fill the prompts better. This might end up being a series. I hope you enjoy. Feedback would be nice.

When your manager rings you, telling you that you’d landed a part in the Queen Biopic Bohemian Rhapsody, you were elated. Freddie Mercury was a bit of a personal hero of yours, and to be a part of his story on the big screen, it was sort of a dream come true. 

In your first meeting, you sign a nondisclosure agreement, and you’re given the latest draft of the script to start learning, as well as a character brief. The script calls your character ‘Amanda’, the girlfriend of Roger Taylor who he eventually realises he wants to settle down with. You’d seen pictures of young Roger Taylor, you wouldn’t lie, you were excited for the role. Honestly, even today he was still quite a fox.

The point is, you were excited to have a fun time on set with a pretty blonde, make some new connections, and earn some good money. Some really good money.

The other shoe drops when you’re flicking through Instagram, and one of the stan accounts you follow has posted a leaked screenshot of the proposed cast list, and there’s your name, right beside the name of the last person you wanted to pretend to be in love with. Ben Hardy; pretty blonde extraordinaire, and your ex-boyfriend.

The table read is... awkward. 

The two of you are sat next to each other, and barely spoke two words to each other. You feel unprofessional the whole time, but you’d rather be anywhere else in the world, and the delivery of some of your lines falls a little flat. The director casts a concerned look between yourself and Ben as you rattle of what’s meant to be banter like you’re reading the news paper.

“They’ve got no damn chemistry; it’s like watching a celebrity divorce hearing.” When the Director vents to one of the producers in the hall outside after the reading, you manage to catch it where you’re just about to come out of the bathroom.

“They’ll be better on set, I promise, it’s just jitters.” She tries to soothe his nerves, and they’re off soon after, and you’re left with a cold, sinking sensation in your stomach.

“You’re Y/N, aren’t you? How are you finding the set?” The guy who greets you on your first day on the Eastenders set smiles with such casual ease it feels like you’ve known him for a while, instead of having just met him.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You agree with a quick nod, rocking back on your heels as you gaze around the space, trying not to look at him for too long. “It’s a bit overwhelming.” Actually, what’s overwhelming is that he’s talking to you. He’s Ben fucking Hardy, pretty-boy on the soap-opera scene, and he’s talking to you on your first day.

“Yeah, you’ll be right though; if you need any help or anything, just give us a yell, yeah?” And you realise he probably doesn’t know who you’re playing, or how you’re involved in that Season’s arc, but you certainly did.

“I didn’t know you could play drums.” You’re trying to be casual when you say it, but you see Ben tense where he’s sitting on a sofa in the rehearsal room, script and pencil in hand.

“I can now, that’s all that really matters.” He’s giving off such strong ‘please leave me alone’ vibes that it almost hurts, and you have to push through the knot in your stomach and sit down next to him.

“Ben, we need to at least be civil.” You say quietly, and he looks at you, expression a little forlorn.

“Y/N, we are civil, and we’ve done this before. Let’s just keep it professional, okay?” His tone leaves little room for argument, and you nod in agreement with a small smile, and pull out your phone, waiting for the rehearsal director.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” You purr, running your hand delicately over the collar of Ben’s shirt, as his eyes widened and he spluttered to form a sentence, just as the script had told him to. 

Your character was more a plot device than anything, when Ben’s character is at a low point, his main romance is on a break, and he meets you, a temptress in all black. Your job is to give his character a realisation, he starts as your cocaine dealer when his supplier can’t make the drop, and he falls for you. Depending on the audience reaction, you knew the producers were waiting to see if they kill you off or have you recover from your addiction. The point is, your fate’s uncertain at the end of the Season, and Ben’s character realises he has to get out of the drug trade.

“I’ve got something for you, from Oskar. Can we go somewhere more private?” When he speaks, it’s with surprising confidence, and he steps up from the bar stool and into your space, smiling as your face lights up. The director calls cut after a moment, and you step back, smile sliding to something genuine as an assistant comes in and straightens your loose, black silk shirt, and they reset the shot for a new take.

“Ben, could you try less flustered? You’re here to deliver drugs, you’re not a schoolboy.” The director’s voice was kind as she came up to the two of you, and Ben agreed easily before she turned to you. “Great job, Y/N, don’t be afraid to be more even more forward, if you feel it.” As soon as you nod in understanding, she absconds, and you half laugh.

“If I was any more forward I’d be in your lap.” You snickered, voice quiet as you dipped your head to hide how you were faintly flustered. Ben was quiet, just watching you for a moment, but before you noticed, the director called for everyone to standby.

“I’m after Maggie, do you know where I could find her?” Ben starts as soon as the cameras start rolling, brow furrowed as he leans across the bar to speak to the bartender, and that’s your cue to enter the scene.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” And when you say it this time, he smirks back at you, a little cocky, and you can feel the way it makes your heart flutter and you know it’s not as fake as it should be.

Before filming even starts, the producers have essentially forced you and Ben into bonding sessions which, if this were several years ago, would have just been dates. Now they’re awkward and tense, and you tend to bring heavily highlighted scripts.

“I saw you in that Wes Anderson movie last year. It was a really good performance, one of your best.” He offers over coffee. The idea that he’d kept up with enough of your work to label one ‘your best’ has you a little shocked, and something in your heart warms as you thank him softly.

It’s gotten easier to hang around with him, and it’s even easier to pretend to be in love with him in rehearsals. It’s like riding a bike, how easy it is to let yourself smile and lean into him, to let the banter flow easily between the two of you, fond jabs that edge on insulting coming as easily as breathing.

Joe mentions that he thought the two of you worked together before, and when you reply that you’d dated for almost a year, he goes very quiet, eyes going wide. After a beat, he admits it explains a lot.

“X-Men did you real dirty.” You’re half paying attention to an interview with Roger Taylor that the two of you had been instructed to watch together. You’re both in his trailer, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa as you watch in almost complete silence.

“What?” He asks, after a beat, your words having taken a moment to process.

“Killing you off like that; they could have gotten so much mileage out of your character.” The way you say it is far too well thought out to be an idle thought. Ben smirked.

“You just liked the leather pants.” He muttered, but you’re silence is answer enough. You know he sees your embarrassed smile, but you can’t bring yourself to deny it.

“Hey, do you wanna grab a drink after and go through notes and blocking and stuff?” You’re shooting your third episode, and you’re far more comfortable on set by now. Agreeing easily, you let Ben drive the two of you to what he claims is the best pub in town, and you sit in one of the more secluded booths to talk.

It turns out he’s just as much a fan of you as you are of him; you’re known more for your bit-parts in long-running series, it seems like the only show you hadn’t been a part of so far had been Eastenders, it was only a matter of time. It’s an innocent night, true to his word, all you do is talk, and discuss the script. There is one part of the upcoming script that has you a bit nervous. 

“Listen, honestly just go for it; it’s not meant to be sweet or anything, I’m literally taking coke from you.” You tell him, fidgeting, and he’s hums thoughtfully.

“You sure? We can talk to the director, I’m sure-” He offers, but you laugh to hide your nervousness.

“Nah, let’s knock it out of the park, the script says go for it so just go for it.” You assured him, heart rate already quickening at the mere thought of it. 

The next day, before the scene, the director comes over to talk you through it, making sure that if anything becomes uncomfortable, that you can talk to her. Both you and Ben assure her that it’s fine.

“You’re far too cute for this line of work.” You say as you hold a baggie of “cocaine” up to the light, smile playing on your lips.

“Cute? Ouch, you really know how to wound a man, you know.” He says, leaning back against the sofa in the hallway of the grubby hotel your character was staying in. He’s watching you with interest, small smile playing on his lips.

“Cute’s not a bad thing, baby, but you look like you should be making coffees or playing football in the sun, not here, not with me.” And you tap out a little of the powder onto your hand, pretending to snort it before you turn to him, his expression dark and hungry, and he kisses you, aggressive, almost desperate, and you lean into it, almost forget you’re playing a role with his hand on the back of your neck. When he lets go, when he pulls away, your eyes are still closed and you chase his lips for a moment. Eyes flickering open, you see him smirking down at you where he’s standing, and you both know it wasn’t entirely acting.

“You don’t know anything about me.” He growls, and you know you have to smile like you’re into it, like it’s a challenge, but instead, you duck your gaze, giving a small laugh and wiping at the nostril you’d just “snorted cocaine” through, before looking up at him through your eyelashes.

They call cut, and the director announces, almost a little awed, that she’s pretty sure they got the the take, actually says she’s not sure if she could getting a better take if they tried again. Ben seems far too pleased with himself. 

“They want us to tell the public we’re together.” You’re resting your head on Ben’s chest laying at the back of the tour-bus set, and his hand is resting on your waist, which is bare for the crop top and booty shorts they’ve put you in.

“Yeah, I heard.” He replies, voice equally quiet. “I think we’ve got a meeting about it tomorrow morning.” Gwil and Rami are actually playing scrabble at the front of the bus, and Joe is talking to Singer, the director.

“It’s a bad idea.” You’re so frank that you feel Ben freeze, and you heave a sigh. “It’s good for the movie, but Ben...” You trail off, and you feel it when he forces himself to relax. “It wouldn’t be real, it would just be weird.”

“Y/N, we’re actors.” He says very pointedly, and when you turn, resting your chin on his chest, he looks tired, a little exasperated. “It’s just a business deal.” He assured, and you let out a low, thoughtful grumble. 

“We’ll discuss it tomorrow.” You allow, and he nods once, shifting to a more comfortable position, and you go back to resting your head on his chest, eyes fluttering closed as Singer called for the shot to be reset and a bunch of people came and straightened your clothes, and touched up your makeup, all without you having to move much.

You agree to the terms set forth in the meeting easily, the story being that your relationship rekindled on set, and that you were now madly in love, mirroring the relationship you were portraying on screen.

“Wait, does that mean-?” Ben leans forward in his chair, with his heart in his throat as he followed their logic, thinking through the plot of the movie. “Like engaged?” He asked.

“Seems a bit fast.” You agreed, voice level enough that someone might mistake you for calm rather than internally freaking out, and your managers shared a look.

“There will be a public proposal during or after the world premiere, that’s up to you both, and after the movie is out on DVD, you can go your separate ways.” They assured, but your mouth fell open.

“You know he left me for X-Men, right?” You splutter, and Ben’s eyes widen as he turns to you with a scoff.

“You’re the one who said the distance was too much for us while I was in Cairo.” He snapped, and you threw your hands in the air.

“I was offering to come and stay with you instead, but you said you were too busy!” That was enough to shut him up, his mouth snapping closed as he turned away sharply, huffing out a resigned sigh.

“We have a few brands and restaurants who are interested in sponsoring, and the producers are willing to increase both your salaries if you go through with it for the full duration.” Your manager informed you both carefully, and you and Ben shared a resigned look.

“Fake intend to marry me for like three months?” He asked, voice low and bitter, and after heaving a long sigh, you look to your managers,

“Fine.”

“I think I love you.” Ben’s character shows up at your character’s door, and you open it in a silk robe. 

“Hello to you too.” You laughed, but he’s so serious, so sincere, and when he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t offer anything else, you step up to him, pressing your lips to his, and he wraps his arms around you, hands sliding against the silk over your hips, and you pull back.

“You’re too sweet for me, baby,” voice so low it’s barely a whisper, he’s the one who chases your lips this time, but your catch his chin, and his eyes open. 

“You’re high.” He says softly, voice raw and a little desperate.

“And you’re my dealer.” You push him back gently, going to close the door and his expression turns angry.

“That doesn’t mean anything; I love you, Maggie.” His words hang heavily in the air, but before you can respond, they call for cut. You’re told to play it more like it hurts to try and turn him down, and you agree, smiling and nodding all the while. Everyone sets up for another take and you close the door.

When you kiss him this time, his hands are holding your face, and you’ve got your arms around his neck, and it’s like the world falls away from around you. It’s not acting now, hasn’t been for weeks, almost months now, not since he’d asked you out officially. Every time you kiss him you’re desperate to drown in his embrace, and he kisses you like it’s just the two of you, no cameras, no scripts.

“You’re-” and he cuts you off with another quick kiss, which has you laughing a little sadly, “Peter you’re too sweet for me.” He rests his forehead against yours, heaving a sigh.

“I know you’re high.” He says gently, and you don’t push him away this time, just lean back, your finger lifting his chin.

“And you’re my dealer.” You tell him, expression falling.

“That doesn’t mean anything, that doesn’t matter; I love you.” And you know that in that moment, the words mean so much more than the script, than these characters, than the show; he loves you. Ben loves you.

You avoid him, outside of filming, until you actually get a call from your manager telling you you’re contractually obligated to be seen in public together at least once a week. Even while filming you’re short with him, and he’s quick to get away from you the moment he doesn’t need to be around you, which was getting to be pretty bad, seeing as how you had been blocking a sex scene.

After the call, you and Ben get a drink. It’s awkward at first, though that’s unsurprising. After a long sip of his beer, he pats his thighs where he’s sitting in the armchair across from you. You make a face at him, shaking your head. 

“It’ll look less suspicious than if we’re shouting at each other across the table.” He hissed, and you groaned, obliging and crossing to sit yourself in his lap. He’s warm and secure, and he wraps his arm around you like it’s second nature. “Let’s not make this weird.” He said gently, and you nod.

“As for tomorrow’s shoot,” you said softly, leaning in to make sure no-one else heard, and he nodded, humming softly, “we’re professionals, and,” after a beat you cleared your throat pointedly, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Not in front of a camera crew we haven’t.” Ben says with a smirk, and you snicker in agreement. “It’s gonna go fine; this is all gonna go fine, I promise.” And when you raise your eyebrows at him in surprised question, he just laughs softly, and brings you in for a chaste kiss. “It’s only until the DVD’s released.” He assures you, and you let your expression fall, already weary.

“Ben, that’s over a year away.”

[ramblingshit]

Jane Eyre - 1996 - 2/5

what even is acting. what even is a script.

wasn't gonna do this one but fuck it's aunt petunia and rogue. here we go.

lots of credits fairo. more credits. damn fukin eh - i hear you're a wicked child! lol hi. now we're talking about hell and where bad people go. 'keep well and not die' ahaha m8. fkn reed putting seed in that she's a liar. teach her at her prospects, don't let her come back, she's a lying little shit take her away from here. he's appropriately scary oh shit she's saying this in front of the priest. damn tear that lady a new one. unruly, obstinate, wicked, deceitful, man these people hate kids who act out. walks in and damn she's on teh stool already - IS THAT THE LADY FROM PERSUASION. damn she just got here and he's telling everyone to not trust her, she doesn't get to eat and has to stand - she's just done hours of travelling fuckin assholes. IT IS THE LADY FROM PERSUASION. shes got dark hair and dark eyes and shes like glaring at everyone like shes onna kill him in their sleep. lol enjoy helen while she's alive. eatin bread and cheese in bed like she's not gonna get crumbs. omg telling these kids how to stand properly what why this lady hate her she's gonna cane her for not washing her hands. bish doesn't even flinch go helen. 'cleanliness is next to godliness' alright crazy. this school is a lot more chill than most of the others - they're laughing and doing what they want as well as learning and playing games. making jane out to be a pro artist. oh no ol mate saw her with her hair out. no dont cut it. 'vanity?' shes out here with naturally long, red and curly hair and he's out here calling her vain? because he recognises it as lovely she must be vain about it? what a fkn dickhole get off your high horse sexist moron pig anus head. what. he's saying her naturally  iwgh what i don't even understand his shit - it isn't offending him thats the issue its her naturally occuring sin and vanity (because her hair exists?) that is the issue??  what. lol go Jane. NO. oh fuck go Jane go. this guyyyy. don't do it Jane. chin held high she only does it when Helen nods at her to. DAAAAAAAAMN. took of her own bonnet. if Helen's hair goes so does Janes. they stood together looked at each other and flipped their heads over for him to go snip snip, bish looked shock and actually stepped back in horror. What a bae. Helen's fkn dying send help. fuck this lady should not be working with children considering how much she hates children. o shit where's helen. her beds all rolled up. can hear her hacking away in the distance. yikes that sounds bad. jane be creepin. oh fuck she's a terrible actress even as a kid. who honestly thinks its a good idea to hire her. she lying in her dying friend's bed and she's breathing all over her. isn't anna paquin australian? no? ah new zealand fairo. oh fuck Helen's daed. she's trying to squeeze out tears ahah oh no. she can't manage it. anna go back to new zealand you suck at acting who hired you ever. Riparoonies helen. that was actually the greatest jane and helen moment i've seen tbh. oh damn cool transition as she walked from helen's grave - she went from kid to adult. whats this part down the midde all of them got. Miss Temple fam, persuasion lady, fantastic lady, crying as Jane leaves like her mumma. this jane is long-flat-faced with a long protruding jaw, and very tall and skinny. thornfield looks like its already burned down ahaha. straight up castle here. she's got her drawing stuff as well as her bag. nice friendly ol mate meets her and opens the gates - big ass square this is some game of thrones shit yearh this place is like medieval more than victorian. the middle parted hair and the curled twists behind her head they're pretty much exactly the same in most Janes. all chillin and chatting about this together rather than completely separate. adele actually legit sounds french rather than just pretending? noice. dreary, cold, dark halls. her room is bright and airy with a four-poster bed and bay windows and lots of very nice furniture. river runs beside it; enormous tapestries; main gallery with lots of furniture and paintings and sculpures all covered in sheets with windows open to let in light; the doors are very large and heavy. Janes got a very long neck she looks legit like a fkn swan lmao. ooh a rochester backstory. well-travelled, intelliegent, can't tell if he's talking in jest or in earnest, or if he is pleased or irritated, not a happy man. they're just walking about in his rooms. the sun shines bright but cannot reach them through the thick mist. they're very soft-spoken. god her head is so far forward she's like the alien - long ass neck stretching forward and then her chin and jaw stretching wayyyy forward. wack wack anatomy.  it's very dark and dreary. she's off for a walk leaving adele to do like 5 sums. oh she's been here five minutes and they're already meeting. the music is like ... not appropriately intense? he just sorta looked at her, the horse tripped over and then he was on the floor and she's like whoops uh you alright bro. he's outright lying and pretending that he's not rochester his hair is grotty he's got like no hair on top they've just tries to scraggle it. this is so stunted and awkward. i hope it gets better. he's very gentle and she's pretty nonexistent to far. my god very gentle man. what. is he even rochester? that's a german shepherd. noice. playin chess by himself by the fire lol. this movie would be made infinitely better by an actual soundtrack. they're all chilling together again it's interesting - adele and fairfax and rochester and jane. wait she's been here 4 months. it literally didn't show anything about her chilling here. she talked back and now he's grumpy lol. what a terrible start compared to like... every other first convo. isn't she supposed to be not great at piano and yet she's teaching adele -- wait now we're at another convo between the duo. this convo is the other half of --- wait now we're talking sketches? jesus she hmm what are they talking about she's being forward and fuck her chin twists forward as she speaks she kinda looks like the wicked witch of the west. he's judging her drawings like he can do better. this is a mess? the best part about this so far is adele.  there's no sense of time. adele is gorgeous honestly. she's pale and gaunt with bags beneath her eyes. wait here's the next part of the conversation. blunt and brusque replies from her. god they're so obviously acting its painful. they have no chemistry because the CONVERSATION IS ALL OVER THE PLACE. they've done it on pruspose to try stretch things out a bit but like plz EY why he scrunch up the drawing wtf. 'and remember the shadows are as important as the light'. dudes. these are private conversations? it would be alright to try it more naturally but they're just not the kind of things you casually say. it's impersonal and there's no intimacy. sit there and watch a kid dance to the sound of a music box. he's so grumpy looking. now snapping at the kid. he's annoying. like a violent dude he feels more like a nice guy quick to snap - definitely kinda unhinged. and now drunk. hmm i don't like it. she told him not to be mean to adele and he rages about her mother, 'you've made adele feel unwanted and unloved' damn this Jane goes for the throat. she's too good for him I can see it now m8. he's a psycho run. red flag red flag. don't like it. lol he wake up like huh.... oh look beds on fire... huh... well suppose i should sort it out... huh... fuck they're barely acting huh. do they even want to be here. how much are these guys getting paid. he's literally a drunk. and has she had a drink in her life? she just went for it? omg so impersonal - isn't he supposed to be already half in love with her by this point? camera angle just flicks forward and back as the conversation goes on and when theres action it just pans back to the widest shot ever lol just show the entire scene why give any emphasis or focus to anything who needs reaction shots and feelings of being in it rather than observing it. fkn ey. he's literally just an angry blitering brooding drunk yikes. he's staring at her tits? these conversations man... he definitely just said jade instead of jane. m8 don't tell me he didn't. there's more intimacy between all the servants and jane and feeling more like an actual squad living together than there is any feeling between rochester and jane. adeles got a frog lol cute. 'you're a fool,' jane tells her reflection. this music is so shit it's bringing everything down. rochester, who's been an unfeeling ass the whole time, holds her hand once and now she's got a big crush on him. she's very spirited - to the point where she could too easily be cruel. like it's not just a repressed forcefulness it's like a hidden rage. can see her going mad and chopping someone up with icy rage and poised pleasure. wonder if i'm in a mood and interpreting this wrong? but honestly. dancing rochester now? instead of singing. adele is glaring at Mrs Ingram who just insulted jane lolol go kid she's definitely the best part. the background people actually make this place feel alive and natural, completely unlike their FUCKING AWFUL conversations. jesus what. god could you have two people less interested in each other? i think this fairfax knows about bertha. there's a 'tapestry bedroom'? lol what does that mean. they're dancing, playing cards, piano, the lot. oh the walls are literally covered in tapestries, that's creepy af. theres so much blood my dude would be dead yo. will hurt like doesn't know how to act. wwait theyve skipped my 'fav scene'?? theyre shaking hands again, wtf is this. wait what shes just met stjohn n he;s the one telling her all about the reeds? petunias dying 'love me then or hate me as you will - you have my full and free forgiveness' - i cant forgive any version that misses that out: its so powerful as part of her character. stalking her while he smokes in the dark what a creeper. 'how cuold you be so stupid!' lol fight him Jane i dont even know how we got to kissing likr the movie is almost 2 hours and yet it feels SO rushed. literally took away all the secret courting and his sneaky declarations. shes a modern woman trapped in an old age.  she is so skinny. and with entirely stiff expressions. ew he makes me so uncomfortable. theyre not even trying lol. acting ey acting have u heard of it. just left jane at the altar like bye bitch.shes just in a giant empty ugly room. bertha is a very young and frightened girl but also very sick in the typical long white dress and long dark hair. god this guy is a whingebum. bertha understands everything he's saying. oh yikes lol she just whipped a log from the fire and went after Jane and Jane just put her veil back down with like a sigh turned and yeeted slowly away long ass veil over a white bonnet, silk cape thing in a dark hallway walking all miserable. she's outies lol he's just let her walk out? i love u and i love u. bye. bertha's taken another log from the fire and lit the wedding dress on fire along with the house ahaha. wait he let her leave the house then ran after her on horseback but had to stop after bertha lit the place on fire it started burning and we're actually seeing it happen? interesting. the house is burning, pepople are running, bertha's on the battlements and rochester is going up there to --oh fuck grace poole got yeeted over by bertha oh she's flying ahahaha jumped down to where she threw grace poole. rochesters in the fire. jane's off and racing. it's all happened at once. she went to stjohns, didn't even get dumped in teh marshes but down she goes after chilling in a coach for 3 days. shes been there a month. her jaw is so long and forward its creepy. again one fo the few telling her that she's wealthy from inheritance from her uncle. more backstory. she was deeply loved by her parents, now she's wealthy, lifes looking up but she's all upset after than asshole lol move on and be happy. she's hearing his voice on the wind like please chill. damn 6months. what. um. he's very awkwardly trying to propose? but its like the last half of the conversation with the first bit just cut out. so weird. she looks normal face-on. oh she decides after the proposal to go back - none of that chasing after voices nonsense. whoops that shit burned downnn. doggoooo is still alive. what a good boy. fuck me there's like no anticipation, no intensity, no build-up, no chemistry, it's so dry and cold and heartless. christ acting. act. acting. act. please. act. what is happening. act. she has the neck of a swan ol mate. fucking gross. their words are stilted, and not romantic in the slightest and especially not in their delivery. theyre walking with no kids but the dog but they're talking about the kids. oh my god. that was pretty fkn awful. like seriously not good.

[sadnessimmer]

What stuffpack should you get? (BUILD MODE ITEMS)

Here is a list of my PERSONAL opinions on every stuffpack and whats included.

THIS IS ONLY BUY MODE ITEMS, CAS ITEMS WILL BE LISTED IN ANOTHER POST.

! I am not payed to say this !

I will rate these from 1-10 based on how much I PERSONALLY USE THEM.

Click on the name of the stuffpacks to see pictures of all the items.

Luxury Party Stuff:

1  dining chair

1 bar stool

1 ottoman

1 dinner table

1 accent table

1 bar

1 curtain

1 floorlamp

1 wall decoration (lights up)

The buffé table, you can serve all the food for 250 simoleons or individually.

The drinks/dessert fountain, serves chocolate, cheese, fruit punch, sparkling apple juice, caramel, futuristic punch andparty extender punch. Some require higher mixology skill. Some are drinks and some are dips for fruit or bread.

I fully recommend this pack for weddings and parties, other than that the items are kind of pointless because they dont really look good in everyday gameplay/houses, in MY opinion. 3/10.

Perfect Patio Stuff:

1 arm chair

2 sofas, same one but a 2 seater and a 3 seater

1 dinner table

1 coffee table

2 counter tops, normal one and island one

1 bar stool

1 bar

1 bbq

2 cluter items. bbq sauses and grill tongs

3 floor lamps

2 wall decorations, a cool wood one and a metal string one

1 lantern (table lamp)

4 plants, 2 of them are none fence hedges

2 floor decorations, stars in flooring and a weird statue

1 table w/ umbrella

1 fence and 1 gate

2 hottubs

I love this pack, the hottubs adds a new woohoo animation which is always nice. I love the 2 big floor plants so much. The sofas can work inside but they are wicker with cushions. The coffee table is my all time FAV. 6/10.

Cool Kitchen Stuff:

1 fridge

1 stove

2 counters, normal one and island one

matching cabinets

2 ceiling lamps

6 wall decorations, a filled shelf, knifes, utensils, wood board, spice rack, and a painting will many different designs

1 dinner table

1 dining chair

1 bar stool

1 end table

2 clutter items, decorational cookbooks, salt and pepper shakers

1 plant 

ice cream machine, 30 flavors, unlock all with higher cooking skill.

8 ice cream toppings and 10 garnishes.

grab ice cream in cone or bowl.

This pack is cute, the kitchen items are OFTEN used in my game, the one plant is super cute flowers that i love. The one painting has super cute swatched like eggs and bacon with cute faces and avocados. IF you like making kitchens you’ll love this. 8/10.

Spoky Stuff:

1 arm chair

1 sofa

1 dinner table

1 end table

1 rug

1 curtain

3 painting

3 wall lights

2 wall decorations, spider web and a spider

4 clutter items, candy bowl, 2 pumpkins and a mini haunted house

1 skelly bear for kids

1 light show pot 

1 pumpkin carving station, 9 different carving styles, unlock all with higher handiness skill

This pack i regret spending money on because i NEVER use it and i hate halloween, but if you love halloween then go for it! Includes a costume party. It does have a kinda nice wood flooring but thats it sorry EA. 1/10.

Movie Hangout Stuff:

1 arm chair

1 cushion poof chair

2 dining chairs

2 sofas one 3 seater and one 3 seater (theyre different)

1 dinner table

1 accent table

1 coffee table

3 plants

2 wall decorations, a drape with patterns and a shelf with hanging plants

2 ceiling lamps

1 candle with other decorations around it

7 paintings, 5 of them are movie posters 2 are a cluster of differnt ones but its one item

1 curtain with 2 pieces

1 mirror

1 rug

1 dresser

2 big tv’s

2 doors 

1 tree

popcorn machine, 4 kinds of popcorn, butterd popcorn, kettle corn, cheddar popcorn and caramen corn. Different kinds requires higher cooking skill

I like this pack,the items are a bit much when it comes to color and pattern but the plants are very nice and i love the coffee table with the built in mirror. The curtains are the star of this pack for me theyre AMAZING. The cluster of paintings are lovely. The drape down plants on the shelf is also one of my faves. 7/10.

Romantic Garden Stuff:

2 benches

1 picnic table

3 fountains, one of them you can interact with, add soap, sit and nap on also play in.

7 sculptures, beautiful stone sculptures of a man and a woman also 3 cool kinds of arches

1 wall sculpture, its basically a wall plant, looks good under windows

2 lamps, one outdoor one perfect for hiding in plants and then a big street light one

2 dividers

monkey bars

1 window

1 column

1 fence

1 gate

none fence hedges

6 outdoor plants

wishing well, has 7 wishes you can make, happiness, simoleons, skills, youthful vigor, a child or a promotion in career, 3 offers, 100, 1000 or 5000 simoleons

This pack is stunning, i will be honest though i never use the big sculptures, its hard to make something with them. I know a few simmers have built a romantic garden with all the stuff and its like a cute park! The outdoor plants are fab they go with normal houses aswell. The monkey bars are cuter than the base game ones heh. The wishing well is cool but i havent used it since the pack first came out. 4/10.

Kids Room Stuff:

1 bed

1 accent table

1 desk chair

1 desk

1 arm chair

1 ottoman

2 lamps

1 mirror

1 trashcan

2 room dividers

1 toy box

2 book cases

1 dresser

2 decorations, a transformer and a cute stuffed animal

8 paintings/posters, cool transformer, all the voidcritters, voidcritter poster, poster of fairies and cute things

3 cluster of paintings

2 shelves, one with trophies and one with a picture and some hanging things

1 clock

2 wall decorations, light up butterflies, framed jersey and fairy lights with photos

puppet theater, kids can preform a show to adults and other children

voidcritter battle station, kids can play against eachother and watch out for a sore loser

This pack i love because theres a bed, always love new beds, also its just cute, the decorations work amazing for kids and toddlers, the mirror i use for adults too super cute.The book cases are fab for all around the house so is the dresser. 6/10.

Backyard Stuff:

2 dining chairs

1 dinner table

1 coffee table

2 accent tables

1 loveseat

1 floor deoration

6 wind chimes

3 paintings, a frog, flower and a cluster of paintings

fairy lights

1 wall speaker

2 tables w/ umbrellas

2 rugs

2 sculptures, a birdhouse and a butterfly decoration

3 plants

2 clitter items, bowl or lemons, and condiments

1 drink tray, you can serve iced tea, lemonade and citrus swig

4 lamps, a single candle, a candle with a flower and a lantern

1 frog fountain

1 outdoor plant

1 birdfeeder. you can ass bird seeds ans birds will appear, watch out they do attack 

1 fence

1 gate

2 slip and slides, you can add soap and theres slide and trick slide

This pack i really like, i dont use the slip and slide but the birdfeeder looks cute in the front yard and the drink tray is a personal fave, the candles in this pack are my jam, the wind chimes are cute and make noice but i play the sims with my sound off so oh well. The plants in this pack are also fab af. 8/10.

Vintage Glamour Stuff:

2 double beds

2 dining chairs

1 sofa, a 3 seater

1 ottoman

2 coffetable

2 accent tables

1 desk

2 rugs

2 dressers

2 curtains

1 fireplace

4 lamps, one ceiling lamp, one desk lamp, a tray with a candle and perfumes 

1 plant

2 sculptures, a little lion sitting on books and some body lotions

4 mirrors

1 painting, 3 swatches

1 clock

1 room divider

1 window

1 globe bar

2 vanity tables, your sims can sit down and choose between 56 different makeup looks and it also works like a mirror

2 wallpapers

butlers are included in this pack

This pack let me tell you THIS IS MY FAVORITE, will always be. First of all 2 new beds thank u sm love it, and everything just looks so classy and nice the desk i use all the time, the dresser is lovely, the globe bar is fab, the curtains are bae. 10/10.

Bowling Night Stuff:

1 dining chair

1 arm chair

1 bar stool

1 sofa

1 ottoman

1 dining table

1 coffee table

1 bar

2 paintings, one of big bowling pins and some arrows

1 sculpture, bowling alley sign

1 rug

2 wall decorations, bowling score board and a cluster of bowling themes pictures

6 floor decorations, 2 bowling ball racks, 2 shoe racks, a trophy case and a bowling alley street sign

2 clutter items, a single bowling pin and a trophy

4 lights, an arror thing, a spotlight lamp, a desk lamp and 2 ceiling lights

1 room divider

This pack is great, the items like the sofa, chairs, coffee table and rug i use all the time, i personally havent used the bowling part of this pack since it came out. 7/10.

Fitness Stuff:

1 dining chair

1 arm chair

1 loveseat

1 dinner table

1 coffee table

1 shelf

1 sink

1 toilet

1 shower

1 bathtub

1 treadmill

1 weights machine

1 rock climbing wall

2 rugs

1 plant

1 painting, a map in a frame

1 mirror

3 wall decorations, theyre all like stone things, and one of them looks like 2 nipples

4 lamps.

1 bookcase

2 wallpapers

This pack is nice, i use the chairs, tables and bathroom items all the time, the rugs are cool and abstract, the bookcase is also kinds abstract which i love. My sims dont work out often but the treadmill is a nice style. I will give this pack a higher rating because of the bathroom items i LOVE them. 8/10.

Toddler Stuff:

2 arm chairs, one is is just 2 pillows

1 picnic table

1 cooler

6 sculptures, 4 cute panda tree stumps and some standing big fairy lights

1 clutter item, its a set of forks, spoons, knifes, napkins and paper plates

2 rugs

1 dollhouse

1 toybox

1 slide

1 ballpit

2 big play grounds, one with ball pit and one without

1 bbq

This pack i couldnt play without because the base game thing for toddlers are boring af and some of the stuff are amazing for parks and pretend day care centers. 7/10.

Laundry Day Stuff:

1 arm chair

1 dining chair

1 loveseat

1 coffeetable

1 dinner table

2 accent tables

5 shelves, an cabinet w/ coats, a bigger cabinet with some storage baskets, and 2 shelves with things on them, plants, towels ect

2 sinks

washer and dryer, you can interact with these, new animations

3 hampers

washtub

clothes line

3 plants

4 clutter items, laundry detergent, bucket of tissues and towels,wicker baskets and a cluster of plants with a table

7 rugs

6 wall decorations, a rub board, a broom, towel rack, shelf with herbs and ironing board

2 lamps, ceiling lamp and a candle

2 doors

1 window

This pack is my second fave, the items are super cute and i just like the overall style sm, i dont have much to say other than i love it. 8/10.

My First Pet Stuff:

1 arm chair

1 desk chair

2 sofas

2 pet beds

1 coffee table

1 accent table

1 desk

1 litterbox

4 animal habitats, these you can interact with theres hamster, a voidcrittor one, rat and hedgehog, be on the lookout these things are sneaky af

5 paintings, a height checker for kids, some hamster tunnels, and a cluster of cute animal pictures

1 mirror

1 rug

1 food bowl

2 cat condos

1 book case

1 activity table for kids

1 toy

2 lamps

3 curtains 

This pack has gotten so much critisism but honestly i love it and its all bc of the aquarium coffee table, the circular end table, new things for cats and dogs and the sofas.Dont get this pack if you dont own cats & dogs. 5/10.

Really hope this will help some of you who are wondering what pack to get, if its really wanted i can do the same with expansion packs and game packs, dont forget to reblog to share with peope who might need this. A cas version of this is coming asap. 

Hope you enjoy <3

[decadentrpg-blog]

WELCOME EMILY, YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF HELOISE DELACOUR

Admins Note: Heloise was certainly a difficult choice to make but after much assessment, I want to say that I absolutely adore what you’ve brought to the table! From build up of her background to every little historical reference that was placed within your application, it cohesively created this duality that Heloise has! I’ve enjoyed every interaction she has as well as the clarity and rationale behind her thinking! Your faceclaim request for Virginia Gardner has been approved. Congratulations on your acceptance again, please make sure to head your way to the checklist and submit your account within the next 24 hours!

Out of Character

Name / Alias: Emily

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: Twenty-two

Timezone: GMT.

In Character Application

Full Name: Heloise Delacour

Sexuality: Lesbian.

You like girls. No, that’s wrong. You love girls. You love the smoothness of their skin. You love their gentle curves, their bodies like oceans, refreshing and divine. You love stroking their hair as you lie between sweat-soaked sheets, curling it around your fingertips. You love sharing lipstick shades so it won’t get too messy when you kiss and the sound beaded dresses make when they hit the ground. Most of all, you love who you become around them. Bursting at the seams with euphoria, without a trace of shakiness in your footsteps, you unveil the creature you fought so hard to become - self-assured and valiant. You always slipped into her without thinking about it, knowing instinctively, that this was right. This was who you were supposed to be.

Gender/Pronouns: Cis-female, she/her

Hogwarts House:  Gryffindor.

The hat was adamant. They wanted you in Gryffindor. They wanted you to learn to harness your own roar, the find power in your sort of bravery - perhaps even to tame the brasher instincts of your peers, to calm the storm inside of them. Not every kind of bravery favours the bold, the defiant, the loud. There are different kinds of bravery. The courage to carry on when the chains around your neck drag you to the ground. The strength to try and try and try. The valour in turning yourself into an anchor, a steady weight for the rest of the world to ground themselves on. There are all sorts of bravery in this world, each as useful, each as needed, as the last. Children, yourself included, see so much, but so little at the same time.

You didn’t glimpse the potential in yourself. You wouldn’t for many years yet.

But the hat knew.

You pleaded for Hufflepuff, knowing you’d be able to carve a home out of the house. The world underestimated badgers, sneering at their perceived lack of intelligence, wit or ambition. You didn’t see that at all. You saw steadiness, a bedrock to build a person upon. It wasn’t a leap of faith. But society couldn’t be built around those who flew. Someone had to be waiting, down below, rooted to the earth, ready to catch falling angels.

The hat laughed.

“Better be…” Panic rose in your chest, a knot tightening inside of you. “GRYFFINDOR.”

They weren’t unkind to you. But you were the fawn in the pride of lions, the hovering figure in the background, the mute who never could make herself heard. Years later, with your personhood more fully attached, half of you wistfully wishes you could go back and do it better. Do it again. And yet, in your heart, you know there’s no value in looking backwards. You must journey on.

Head canons:

Trigger warnings for violence, war, alcoholism and mentions of abuse.

I. la petite fille

Your father - and you only have the confidence to say this now you’re a fledgling, grown to use her own voice - always cared far too much about what people thought. Cream of French society, darling of the elite, a career-hungry politician intent on climbing the ladder. Ironically, the sunshine in your soul can be traced directly back to him. And yet, where yours is woven into the very essence of your being, a warm touch to steady a storm, an easiness to still a monster, a brightness to diminish the darkness, his is a mask, a choking falseness. It was that, more than anything else, that scared you. He changed before your very eyes - shaking hands and kissing cheeks one second - to plotting behind their back the next. Nothing about him was real. He slipped between your fingers, never a solid thing to hang onto.

(The feeling, you know, is mutual. You were a grand disappointment. Too timid to follow in his footsteps and too honest to lie. You’re mostly strangers now, each unable to understand the other).

Your mother you know a little better. An English rose, she fell for your father’s charms one summer, a fling that never was supposed to turn into a marriage. You were the bump that interrupted those plans, the shame that would have befallen her good name. Both parties were hastily married and that was that. You’ve always wondered if she blamed you for it. Always been too afraid to ask. Your mother, you know, was miserable, far far away from home, shackled to a man she barely liked, forced to play the part of politicians wife. When she played it well, there was harmony in the household. But if she slipped up…all hell broke loose. And her, with her love of expensive wine and flirting with other people’s husbands, did mess up. You never witnessed the war inside of your father unfold, merely lived its after effects. Silently, you’d pull a blanket over your mother’s quivering frame and give your father his favourite cigar.

(As you grew, you became rather good at predicting the ticking time bombs. So before the storm ravaged, you nearly always scrambled to safety, grabbing your teddy bear and retreating to the back of the wardrobe. You never found a secret world in the back of there, but you did find safety - and that was a comfort in and of itself).

Peacemaker, your father would sometimes say with affection, your mother with scorn. You’d gulp and nod silently, opinions kept to yourself. Over time, a survival instinct became a pattern and from a pattern into a habit. Such things are hard to shake.

Ii. maison choisie

Your mother hailed from London’s big smoke and your father made Paris his home, so you’ve always been accustomed to cities - you could even say it’s in your blood. But nowhere ever felt like home more than your Grand-Mere’s home a stone’s throw from Amiens. Reluctantly, with great effort, your father would make the bi-annual privilege there, dragging your mother in tow. You never had to be forced, you galloped ahead, a country girl at heart. There was something so liberating about Amiens, especially in the summer, where the line between the fields and sky was impossible trace and wildflowers bloomed. Your grandmother was kinder than your parents, the only one who could pull you out of your shell - but even then, only when you were alone. More a hedgewitch than practiced individual, she used to set you upon a stool as she practiced her potions, entrusting you with the responsibility of stirring from time to time. She was the one who taught you that magic had more than rigid purpose, that it would be as beautiful as life itself.

She also taught you a second, valuable lesson.

You remember the very first muggle you met. You remember them because they waved joyfully as you stepped into the town square - and knew your father by reputation, your Grand-Mere by face. Your father, ever the diplomat, turned his face away, pretending not to have heard. You, bashfully, didn’t meet their eyes either. It was only later, when your parents had been placated by a bottle of wine or two, that your Grand-mere took you aside.

“Why didn’t you wave back?” Dumbstruck, you look for somewhere to scurry away and hide. Gently, she took your hand into her own. “I won’t hurt you chérie.”

“Maman et Papa didn’t.” And you never were awfully comfortable around strangers, bashfulness seizing control of you.

“They were wrong to.” Bopping your nose, your grand-mere drew giggles from you. “They didn’t wave because he was…” her voice strained over the English word. “A muggle. Have they told you not to talk to muggles?”

You shook your head.

“Don’t let them. There will be some, especially when you go to school, who tell you not to talk to witches who have muggle parents. You musn’t let them order you around. No one is any better or lesser because of the blood in our veins. Even muggles…they’re not witches. But they’re not the enemy. After all, if I never spoke to a muggle, I’d never speak to anyone! Never forget that.”

You promised you wouldn’t. You haven’t since.

Iii. armes de guerre Ultimately, it was war that drove you away from your beloved France and your cherished Grand-mere, who refused to stand down and flee when the German troops overran Amiens. You like to imagine she would not take a cowards way out, apparating whilst the others were rats in a barrel, trapped by the advance. You like to imagine she fought to defend her farm with every trick up her sleeve. You like to imagine she remained strong and valiant until the very end. But you’ll never know. The war snatched her from you, her story lost to the wind. All you had left was an owl from the French ministry and the personal condolences of the French Minister La Magie.

It took you a very long time to summon the courage to return. And even then, you couldn’t do it alone. Kenshin stepped in without being asked, the year after you left Hogwarts, stability at your side as you confronted the ruins of the happiest parts of your childhood. Violence had ravaged the landscape, scarring those who survived. Left with nothing, you saw the hallows of hunger in their sunken cheeks and poverty wrecked on their bones. Beauty had perished and been left to die. But in the ruins of her farm, you saw all was not lost. The Peach trees were still rooted, their bounty just as sweet. The goats, against the odds, made it out of the shelling alive. The old stool you had once assisted your grandmother had merely cracked, not splintered. Life went on - and through the cracks of darkness, light emerged.

You saw something of yourself in that light.

A hopeful creature, timidly taking her first steps into the world. A passionate believer in the strength of goodness, in victory and vanquish over evil. That progress, ultimately, would triumph. That even in the face of blasphemy, there is room for beauty, for brightness. The trick is in finding it and nourishing it, so that it may grow.

From seed to sapling to great oak.

The spark within yourself ignited that day. You felt your grandmother’s presence and smiled. You mourned, not in sadness, but in joy - for all the happiness that had been, for all that would yet come.

The world treads down on optimists, mocking their faith. But you’ve learnt there’s courage in that kind of relentless determination. That day, you felt its whispers in your soul. That day, you swore to let it go free.

Iv. soldat improbable The time that  followed ‘The Great War’ was supposed to be the long peace. If you look with hooded eyes, you’d find that in the cityscape of New York. Illicit drinking. Parties that last until dawn. Jazz bands. Woman’s emancipation. There is so much beauty, so much progress. But squint harder - and you’d find an underground war, a cold one, lurking just below the surface. It’s cause is more just than any muggle one ever fought. It isn’t a battle between great powers, princes and their cousins. It’s between right and wrong, progress and past, egalitarianism and inequality.

You know you’re not a likely candidate to fight in it. Most overlook you, sneering at your daintiness, soft smiles and open heart. They should understand that it’s what makes you strong, too. All you want is some small part in this larger battle, to be a part of the greater good. More than anything else, you’re a visionary, able to picture a world beyond this hatred. If you can see the brightness, you can be the brightness, a bedrock for those wearier than you, a guide for those who might come in your direction. You’re no warrior, not in the conventional sense, but not every battle should be fought with a weapon. Some need softer tools. You could be that person.

It is the sum of your duties with Dahlia. You see yourself in her, the girl you were but a few years ago, timid and unsure of the power in her own voice, but possessing a rosy heart. She deserves better. You long to show her that, to share your brightness and certainty in betterness, to pull her from the den of snakes and away from the Pride Society. You’re not asking her to fight, for the Coalition, for you…never. You simply want to help her. You would do anything - give her the means to runaway, a safe roof to shelter under, because you long to see her flourish. You’re just so afraid of failure…of failing her, your duty and yourself. The powers against you are overwhelming, those who wield the weapons lethal. The horrors she confesses terrify you. Light, as bright as it is, can be snuffed out. That is your greatest fear where Dahlia is concerned.

V. Coup de main As fun you’ll admit the parties Wren and Kenshin drag you out to are, you couldn’t carve a life out of them. Pleasure is for hedonists - and you do not count yourself among their ranks. When you found your own voice, the grit beneath porcelain skin, you were determined that it should count. You sought purpose in yourself, a way to matter. Almost as if you were trying to prove yourself…to yourself.

You found clarity in the most unlikely of places. A non-descriptive building in Queens - that would appear empty to an unsuspecting muggle. It’s purpose only became clear when you stepped inside, finding an overworked and overwhelmed refugee agency. In the aftermath of the great war, the creation of a dozen new states in Europe, thousands of wizards chose to emigrate instead, heading to the United States in search of a better life.

It’ll be tough work, the supervisor warned, staring you up and down, disdainfully. You bit your lip. Old habits die hard.

I’m tougher than I look. Promise. Your voice rang with clarity, in how true that statement had become.

You began volunteering on a trial basis. You distributed donations and held shaky people in your arms. You played with children and made puppets dance. After a fortnight, you began to offer your services as a translator, hoping to connect people into the interior of the US. A little while after that, you suggested you could be used by the organisation at large, rather than ad-hoc.

You felt a rush in your chest, advocating for yourself. You felt strong and brave and…right.

VI. bizarreries personnelles

Here are the little things that make you, you.

You never broke the habit of walking on your tiptoes, a legacy left from a childhood full of ballet dancing. Slender limbs, porcelain skin, your teacher used to sigh and wish you centre stage. Bashfully, you refused, your cheeks darkening. The spotlight was never yours to claim.

You cannot cook without making a mess. In your presence, the kitchen comes a bomb sight, ravaged by war. Nose flour-stained, fingers sticky, you chase Kenshin around the kitchen. You always catch him. He always allows himself to get caught.

Your pastries are infamous, light and puffy, the sort only the french know how to make. You refine your recipes with magic and tap your nose whenever anyone asks for their secrets. (Later, in fine ink, you pen them a letter, containing the details).

You despise British food. You ate dutifully at Hogwarts, too shy to even dream of asking for an alternative. Toad in the hole. Pies. Casseroles. Blegh.

You bit your fingernails until you were fifteen years old. Your mother enchanted them after that, exasperated at your lack of self-control. The spell has long worn off, but the manicure never lasts long. It’s a nervous tick.

You used to chew your hair. You threw off that habit by twelve.

Birthdays are your favourite times of the year. You take great pride in the gifts you give friends, a thoughtful gesture behind each one. You do, however, despise your own birthday. Being at the centre of attention makes you uncomfortable, you’d much rather spread and share the joy. Luckily, everyone’s learnt not to throw you surprise birthday parties. Instead, you have small, intimate gatherings.

(You and Kenshin have a ritual. A cupcake at midnight as eve becomes day.)

You’re hopeless at keeping plants alive. There isn’t a green bone - or thumb - in your body. You failed herbology miserably.

But you’re incredibly attentive when it comes to writing in your diary, daily and in french, to prevent eavesdropping eyes. A habit you haven’t shaken since your days in Gryffindor.

Your patronus is a lamb. An individual with a lamb patronus has a sort of natural innocence about them, and have a very serene disposition. They are kind to most, though they tend to have a difficult time reaching out and expressing themselves. They have a shy aspect of them that is not only social, but inner, which makes them hesitant to do many things. That said, they are very patient and calm creatures, which allow them to be workable with this nature.

You talk too much when you’re nervous. Far too much. About things that have nothing to do with anything. The weather. The latest show that opened on Broadway. The dance craze everyone’s talking about. Whether you should get a bob. You blabber, filling the space with…words. It’s endearing to most, but you despise it in yourself.

Your wand is 9 ½”, french-made and slim. Beech and Unicorn Hair. “The true match for a beech wand will be, if young, wise beyond his or her years, and if full-grown, rich in understanding and experience. Beech wands perform very weakly for the narrow-minded and intolerant. When properly matched, the beech wand is capable of a subtlety and artistry not seen in any other wood, hence its lustrous reputation.”

Languages are your forte. You have a knack for wrapping your tongue around them, inheriting a little of your father’s silver-tongued mantle. French is your mother tongue, but you’ve added English, Spanish, Italian and a pinch of Latin to the mix.

When you’re making a bold declaration or gesture, you rehearse the words in your mind the night before, like a politician preparing for a speech. You muse over the most effective way to get your point across, the comfort a person will be most receptive to, or whether it’s better just to hold someone and let them cry.

Connection expansion:

I. meilleur ami (Note: I’m happy to change all of this if the Kenshin player disagrees, this is merely my interpretation).

“Mon Frere…” Kenshin catches your grin. Deliberately, his mouth forms an ‘o’. “Ma sœur” You wince at the deliberately butchered pronunciation, but smile nonetheless. He’s always had a particular knack for that, drawing the happiness out of you. And you for him. The only label that fits your description is that of platonic soulmate. Or big brother. For truly, the lines between friendship and family have blurred, that you can’t tell them apart. Certainly, he feels more like family than your own blood ever did.

You met on your tenth day at Hogwarts, in the middle of Herbology class. Devil’s snare wrapped around your hand, you panicked, but were too shy to raise you concerns, suffering in silence. Where few did, Kenshin noticed you - and calmed you down with that bluntness of his. Before you knew it, you were smiling, then laughing and then free. You’ve been attached at the hip since - and shall be, until death do you part. The years did little to change the pair of you. Where some friends grow apart, you grew together, slotting like two jigsaw puzzle pieces. By third year, you were spending Christmas together, Kenshin sensing your unspoken reluctance to go back to France and face the holidays with your parents. After your first one together, you confessed the truth, honesty no one had even known. But most of all, he brought light into his life - different to yours, more brazen and bold. Like two twinned suns, strung across the sky. He is your confidante, secret keeper, joker, dance partner and now, roommate.

The latter made sense. When the two of you ended up in New York at the same time (it’s impossible to imagine the two of you oceans apart, impossible and terrible and dreadful), it made sense for the pair of you to find a two-bed apartment in Manhattan and make it your home. You are as compatible roommates as you are friends.

And, for the first time, he made a house a home.

II. le fruit interdit (Again, I’m happy to alter things dependent on plotting w/ Prosperina’s player) You shouldn’t want to kiss her. If you are the doe, she is the wolf - a huntress determined to strike clean.  In your heart, you know you should hate that dynamic, as you know you should despise her - resent the intimidation that rises through your bones, abhore the uncertainty she makes you feel.. You should be afraid. Very afraid.

And in so many ways, you are. You’re scared of what your attraction to her says about you, now that you are both girls grown, living with the choices you make as adults. You aren’t school children anymore, you aren’t praying to be noticed, doodling hearts with your names encased in it. You’re fearful of what might happen if you find yourselves alone, in a dark - or a light - room. But you’re more frightened, in a strange way, of nothing happening at all.

With Prosperina, there are so many unspoken anxieties, so many things you can’t possibly wrap your head around, that you can’t possibly know. Why she notices you now. When you began to crave the burn. If the risk is worth a moments ecstasy. How beauty could wear such thorns.

You know, now, how Eve felt, in the Garden of Eden. Just one bite, the snake hissed. Just one kiss, Prosperina whispers. You have no wish to shed your wings and toss yourself from Paradise’s gate. But she’s just as beautiful as any angel you’ve ever gazed upon.

In Character Paragraph:

Thursday night, 9pm sharp, the Yale Club. Dress elegantly. Heloise didn’t need to glance down at the invitation to know its contents, her heart having memorised them ten times over, skipping a beat each time it paused at a cursive. Even Prosperina’s writing was beautiful. She would have liked to say that the invitation was unexpected, out of the blue and had been firmly rejected. Yet, since she distastes lies, she could not.

Heloise had, however, made an attempt or two to excuse herself. Sending an owl in return, she had outlined her disapproval of the Pride Society and its galas in no uncertain terms. Prosperina had take an age to respond - deliberately, Heloise supposed, to make her nerves hop and jump. When she had, Heloise could almost taste her tone. It’s not one of those. It’s for charity. Don’t you support charity? She had caved. Heloise couldn’t be sure if that was strength or weakness, good or bad.

Three days later, another letter had arrived. Wear pink. It matches the blush on your face.

Stepping into the room, Heloise steeled herself, a picture of defiance in angel-white, beads reflecting the light back.

Not so long ago, she would have cowered, a ghostly slip of a thing, trembling in the corner. Glass of champagne stitched to her hand, she would have sipped until someone had taken pity on her - and even then, she might have fled. That worked under the assumption she plucked the courage to attend at all. Time sandpapered everyone, some for the better, others for the worse. Heloise liked to think she took after the former.

The first eye she caught was from across the room, her gaze instantly drawn to the slip of a girl shrouded by demons, unable to do anything but stare from her cage. Dahlia. It hurt to see her here, to see the shackles bound and to know she was powerless to help. To approach her, to take her hands into her own and wrap her arms around her shoulders was to betray her newfound friend, to expose her doubts to the world. There was cruelty in watching her suffer - but there was greater cruelty in taking a hammer to the foundations below her feet. That wasn’t Heloise’s job. Hers was to encourage Dahlia to flutter her own wings, to learn how to fly. All in good time. Smiling softly across the room, she let her face say what her tongue couldn’t. Stay strong, keep the faith.

The second pair were Prosperina’s - appearing from nowhere, sneaking up behind. Departing from conventions and norms, she didn’t bother with small-talk. “You look ravishing. But not as pretty as you would have had in pink.”

Tongue-tied, Heloise searched for a response. No one had the power to shrink her anymore, now that she had freed her voice from its restraints. And yet, that didn’t mean anymore wit had returned to it. In times like these, she prayed for Kenshin’s presence at her side, always ready with a sharp retort, the sort that drew him closer to someone. Or even Wren, brazen and bold, who spoke without thought. You don’t want to impress her! One voice screamed.Not like you imagined you might, a lifetime ago.

And yet, a little bit of her did.

Heloise spurned her interest. But a little bit of her didn’t want to do without it either.

“I - Thank you. You look…” Staring at Prosperina for the first time, Heloise felt the breath be stolen from her lungs. Divine. Enchanting. “Like a million bucks.” Slanting her voice into an American accent for comedic effect, she immediately regretted her choice no sooner had it been said. “And this…it’s certainly big. Very big. I suppose that’s good. The more people you can fit in, the more donations you can collect for charity.”

Prosperina laughed. Heloise was never sure if she was being laughed at or with. She preferred to think it was the latter.

“The committee had a few reservations. Something about…vermin control. The guest list is rather exclusive, you see.”

Confusion flashed across her face. It wasn’t as if New York was a stranger to rodents…but something about her tone, about the look on her face…made it clear that it wasn’t animals she was referring to. Without noticing, Heloise had become a player in the game. The smile froze on her face. “I sure hope that isn’t a reference to the architects who built the place. Or the perfectly nice people going about their business on the floor below. They’re not doing any harm.”

“Ah yes, the No-Maj’s, as our Yank friends love to say.”

Heloise tensed on the mention of that word. She despised it. No-Maj. So…derogatory. And rather rude. As if they didn’t count as people, or deserve respect, on the merit of something they didn’t have - and had no choice in having. “I hate that term. I hate - you shouldn’t talk about them like that. Nobody should. They’re hardly hurting anyone. And technically, this is their territory so really we should - be respectful.” Exhaling heavily, she steadied herself.

“Oh,” Prosperina leaned in, all smiles now, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “You’re such a doll. I was only playing. But I can be nice, if you ask nicely.” Her touch felt like electricity, the sort of chemistry that couldn’t be duplicated or faked. When it was real, it was real. “I’ll go fetch us expensive champagne to make amends.” Half-purr, she broke off and Heloise dropped her gaze. “Pink Champagne, I think.”

Cheeks deepening into rosy-red, Heloise watched her depart, wishing she could look away.

Extras:

Pinterest Board: X

[tooquirkytolose]

Would you be so kind as to remind me of the Harold story from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark? Your post brought up so many memories from my childhood and I was trying to recall which ones I remembered.

it’s about 2 farmers that make a scarecrow and they name it harold, after someone they hate. they ask him stuff and pretend he answers back and punch it/smear food all over its face/ just generally take out their dickisness on it until it starts grunting and they freak out. Then one day he gets up and starts walking and then stands in the corner of the field so theyre fuckin spooked and leave their hut the next day. 

BUT these dudes forget their milking stools so they draw straws to see who has to go back and get them (idiots) and when the lucky farmer is like oh gee i wonder whats taking my buddy so long he looks back and sees harold on the roof of their hut stretching a bloody skin out to dry.

[pjo-hoo-nextgen]

The First Quest X

Andy attempted to gain some knowledge as to why Maria and Jaxon were no longer on speaking terms, but not many people knew what had happened.

“I don’t get it,” Andy huffed, resting his chin on his hand. “They always fight but this is different.”

“Wrench,” Sol held out her hand expectantly and Andy placed the tool in her grip.

“If anything they’d have fixed it by now.” He paused in thought for a moment, tapping his fingers against his chin.

“Maybe they just need time apart.” Sol suggested making an unusual attempt at conversation.

“They hardly touch one another with an eight foot pole. They have plenty of time apart.” Andy laughed. Sol hummed in reply and settled her goggles back on her face. “I mean the bickering gets old but the silence is just...uncomfortable.”

“Some people have odd ways of doing things.” The motor Sol was working on gave a small attempt to start before fizzling out. “Crap. I swore I fixed it.”

“Try jiggling the knobby thing.” Andy pointed at a protrusion on the machine.

“That’s not what it’s called,” Andy noticed the small smile on her face and couldn’t help but sit up a bit taller. She took his advice anyways and sure enough the engine gave a mighty sputter before maintaining a low hum. “Yes! Finally!”

“Great! Now you can put it on the motorized dummy track for the training arena!” Andy hopped up from the stool he’d been sitting on.

“That’s the plan.” Sol nodded, moving to turn off the device. With a satisfied nod she tugged off her goggles and gloves.

“You got a little something.” Andy gestured to his own nose indicating the spot where Sol had a fair amount of grease plastered on her face.

“Again?” With a grunt of frustration Sol used the hem of her shirt to scrub at her face. The grease only smeared further over her nose and cheeks.

“Don’t do that!” Andy laughed. “You got it everywhere!”

“Ugh! I hate my life!” Sol huffed.

“Sit down. I got this.” Andy offered her the stool. Sitting, Sol watched him curiously until he came back with a squirt bottle, a surprisingly clean rag, and a mirror. “I will be your stylist today. I was trained in the art of beauty!”

With an impish grin Andy did a clumsy spin and struck a pose, spinning the bottle on his finger as if it were a ring of car keys.

“I hate you.”

“I know.” Andy winked. “Now let the master work.”

Sol sat perfectly still as Andy worked at cleaning away the stubborn residue. She’d had experiences like this before and her skin was often left red and raw from the rough material. This time, however, it was different. Andy managed to perform the task with ease being surprisingly gentle.

“Aaaaaaand, done.” He declared. “Take a look babe.”

Andy held up the mirror for Sol to check her reflection. “Not bad Grace.”

“Clean as a whistle.” Andy nodded. “Like I said...I’m the master.”

“Of dorkiness.” Sol scoffed tossing the dirtied rag at him.

“My feelings.” Andy feigned offense. “Anyways, we have a game of capture the flag to prepare for.”

“Indeed.” Sol nodded. “I have a feeling this will be very interesting.”

— — —

Indeed it was. Maria and Jaxon were inevitably on the same team once more. Only this time, Grey was left trying to manage the forces.

Maria and Jaxon had both adopted personal agendas and didn’t bother to acknowledge the rest of their team.

“Okay, so...I’m on defense. This is cool.” Andy talked to himself as he paced beside the flag.

“What’d you expect? We got our moment of glory last time. The other kids were destined to have a shot.” Sol frowned sitting on a rock and sharpening her blade. “But the schedule goes Wednesday-Friday for Capture the Flag games. We get another shot soon enough.”

“Yeah, but I expected more entertainment.” Andy paused in his pacing to kick a rock into the trees. At first neither of them noticed it but then it became quiet clear.

There was a commotion going on at the center of the battlefield. From the sound of it nearly everyone had stopped to watch. “Okay, I know we have to guard this but-“

“Come on.” Sol was already running in the direction of the noise with Andy following hot on her heels. The two stumbled from the woods to find a very alarming sight.

“Oh my Gods they’re trying to kill each other.” Andy breathed.

Despite being on the same team Jaxon and Maria were locked in a heated duel. Maria had a score to settle and she intended on restoring some of her pride.

Sol was the first to do anything. Being small she managed to worm her way through the gathered crowd. Andy squeezed his way through with a bit more effort.

“I said go to the right.” Jaxon growled.

“What I do is not up to you.” Maria replied slashing at him with her sword. Jaxon stepped to the side and lashed out in return. Maria arched her blade behind her back ending the strike. “You made it quite clear.”

Spinning Maria slashed angrily at Jaxon’s ankles. Leaping he twisted in the air sending a blast of air far more violent than he should have. Maria was knocked to the side, she tumbled a bit, before coming to a rest.

“Jaxon what are you doing?!” Andy demanded latching onto his brother’s arm.

Maria crawled to her feet, rolledher shoulders, and gave a twirl of her sword; a challenge.

“Enough. Both of you.” Grey stepped between the two raging demigods. “Knock it off.”

“Step aside Grey.” Maria’s voice was full of authority, dripping with the power only a true leader could muster.

“Make me.” The eldest boy raised his chin in defiance.

“Sorry.” Maria gave him an apologetic look before charging at Jaxon and using her elbow to nudge Grey aside. Jaxon shoved Andy away, who stumbled back into the crowd of people.

Sol’s anger flared up and despite herself her arms ignited in bright orange fire. Jaxon made another strike but Sol deflected the blade and caught hold of the weapon. The blade sizzled before the gold began to melt.

Jaxon looked down in surprise before it dawned on him that Sol was ruining his father’s blade. He’d just gotten it back from Thia via Hermes’ messenger friends: wind nymphs. Now, Sol was melting the gold into a bubbling puddle. On instinct he reacted.

Sol was blasted back into Maria causing both girls to collapse on the ground. There was the sound of a painful snap and a cry of pain.

“What is the meaning of this?” The demand came from Chiron who had finally made his way to the commotion.

Jaxon looked with teary eyes at the ruined heirloom in his hand. He had grown up using the blade, dreamed of smiting enemies as dangerous as his father had. It was gone now. Ruined.

Grey knelt beside Sol and Maria. “Are you two alright?”

“Ugh, yeah.” Maria mumbled rubbing her head. She glanced over at Sol only to find the young girl crying and nursing her very broken wrist. “Oh Gods.”

She wasn’t the only one to notice the injury. Grey’s eyes widened and he moved to help her. Andy flew into a rage. He tackled his brother to the ground despite his smaller stature and let his fists fly.

“What is wrong with you? Huh?” His fists stung painfully. “You can’t hurt people like that!”

“Stop!” Jaxon held his arms up to protect his face. “Andy, stop!”

The younger boy was thrown off with a buck of Jaxon’s hips. Jaxon wrapped his arms around Andy holding him still.

“Get off of me!” Andy yelled, squirming violently.

The commotion ended only when each of the demigods was dragged to the infirmary.

— — —

“I have no idea what’s gotten into all of you but you need to figure it out.” Jason stood with his arms crossed looking at each of the kids who sat nursing injuries. Grey was the only one completely unscathed.

“You cannot go around trying to kill each other! That’s not okay!” Annabeth who had also been selected to give the lecture pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I didn’t do anything.” Andy protested.

“You pummeled your brother.” Jason glowered. Andy opened his mouth to reply but Jason held up a hand. “Andy Clay Grace, do not argue.”

“So what’s the punishment?” Grey asked glumly.

“You’re all staying here until you sort it out. No leaving or going home.” Jason determined.

“That’s not fair!” Maria cried.

“Some of you can go home, Grey, Sol. You are both allowed to leave.” Neither of them made a move. “Or you can stay here if you wish.”

“Figure it out.” Annabeth shrugged. “It’s that simple. There’s no unity in anything if infighting this bad exists.”

— — —

And so they were left there to solve their problems. Maria selected her own little corner of the infirmary and claimed it her own. Jaxon did the same.

“Let me see it.” Grey knelt in front of the bed Sol sat on and gently took her bandaged wrist. “It should heal relatively well, maybe a bit of physical therapy will be needed, and no forge for some time.”

“Your dad said all of that already.” Sol mumbled. Sniffling she wiped her nose on her sleeve.

“Well, I learned from the best.” Grey stood and ruffled her hair. “I’ll be back. I’m going to get cleaned up.”

“Was it wrong to punch him?” Sol startled at Andy’s remark. He’d been so quiet she had hardly noticed him there.

“Yeah.” Sol nodded. Andy’s head was bowed and his bottom lip began to tremble.

“I just got mad. I didn’t mean to hurt him that bad but-I don’t like him when he’s like this.” Andy hardly cried and so Sol was left with a brief moment of surprise. She wasn’t sure what to do. She’d never been the best at comforting someone.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Sol gave a light punch to his arm with her good hand. “People mess up.”

“Yeah, but a good brother doesn’t punch his sibling.” Andy sniffled.

“A good brother also doesn’t push his sibling.” Sol slung her arm around Andy’s shoulders. He didn’t say anything else after resting his head on her shoulder. She let him cry and pretended not to notice for his sake.

— — —

Jaxon sat staring at the deformed blade. He couldn’t believe it. He wanted to cry. With an angered grunt he chucked it across the room where it clattered to the floor. “Stupid.”

Maria glanced in his direction and felt a tiny amount of sympathy for him. She did know how much the weapon meant to him. “Your dad won’t be mad you know.”

“Yeah right.” Jaxon huffed.

“He’s not that big of an ass.” Maria noted dryly. The conversation ended quickly and the infirmary was bathed in a permanent silence. Slowly the demigods began to drift off to sleep and the silence would remain until the morning.

[sammywilk-imaginations]

Love, Hate and Music

(Y/N pov) Sammy and I are in the living room watching a movie while cuddling on the couch. I’m wearing a tight fitting tank top with shorts while Sammy’s shirtless with sweatpants on. It’s about 10:30pm and we hear a knock at the door. “Who is that?” Sammy says “how would I know?” I say getting up while walking to the door “we’ll hurry up” Sammy shouts from the couch. I open the door to see none other than Shawn Mendes. “Oh my god Shawn it’s been a while” I say surprised as I engulf him in a hug, he hugs me back right away. “Yea Y/N I’ve missed you” Shawn says chuckling, I smile and nod agreeing that I’ve missed him also. “Well why don’t you come inside?” I ask him “oh no what I came for won’t take that long I was jus-” he then stopped talking and looked up from his previous gaze which was down on me due to the height difference between us. I was confused until I felt two familiar hands on my waist, squeezing lightly. I turn my head around to see Sammy, who was glaring at Shawn with no emotion. I decide to break the silence and say “um Shawn, as you were saying?” Shawn blinks a few times and looks back at me “oh yea what I came here for was um- uh to uh- ask you- yea ask you if you-” he stopped again. I could tell he felt really intimidated by Sammy so I then turn to face Sammy and say “Um Sam?” He breaks his gaze from Shawn and looks down a me squeezing my waist a bit tighter “hmm yea babe” he says with a cocky smile as if he was boasting that he could call me ‘babe’ “can you go back in the living room while Shawn and I talk?” His smile turns to a frown “why is it so-” he starts but I cut him off “Sam, just please” I say nodding my head towards the living room. He rolls his eyes and leaves mumbling something but I brush it off and look back at Shawn smiling indicating he should proceed. He smiles and continues “um yea so I have a show tomorrow here in LA and I was wondering if you’d like to come? I have two tickets and backstage passes for you and anyone you’d like to bring just in case you have trouble getting in” he says hold up the tickets and passes “of course I’d love to come-” I start but then get cut off by Sammy who zooms over to the door “WE will be there” he says smiling as he puts his hands around my waist. Shawn gives a small smile “well great, in here are the tickets and such and I hope to see you there Y/N” he hands me an envelope and walks off. Sammy slams the door right away and goes to hop back on the couch. I sit down on a stool by the kitchen counter and open the envelope, as I’m taking out the tickets and passes when Sammy yells “BAAAABBBBEEEE COME BACK TO THE COUCHHHHH”. I put everything back in the envelope leaving it on the counter and walk over to the front of the couch, arms crossed staring at Sammy. “What?” He asks “why did you do that?” I ask “do what?” He responds “Sam, you know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. How the fuck could you intimidate Shawn Mendes? He’s one of the sweetest people on Earth and you literally were strangling him with your eyes”. Sammy sits up from his previous laying down position and says “Y/N. You and I both know that Shawn has had the biggest crush on you since even before I asked you out and that was over eight months ago! He was even caught on the low saying that his damn song ‘Treat You Better’ was about you!” “SAM YOU EVEN JUST SAID IT! THAT SWEET BOY HAS LIKED ME FOREVER AND HASN’T TRIED TO PULL ONE MOVE ON ME BECAUSE HE RESPECTS ME AND MY RELATIONSHIP! SO WHAT IF HE WROTE A SONG?!” I decide to tone down the shouting and continue “all I’m saying is that you shouldn’t be so damn rude to him when he has no reason to be treated poorly” I finish and roll my eyes and sit beside him my eyes dead on the tv. He scoots closer to me and lays his hand on my thigh, “baby I’m sorry you know I’m only jealous because I love you” he says rubbing my thigh. I stare harshly at the tv ignoring his presence, he then proceeds to get up and sit on my lap stuffing his head into my chest. “Baaaabbbbyyyyy I love you” he says “Sammy get off of me you fucking elephant” I say trying to push him off of me. He perks his head up and jumps off of me in an excited manner “you called me Sammy! That means you’re not mad at me!” He says sitting back down by my side hugging me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” I say pretending to not understand his logic, “Y/N we all know you call me SAM when you’re mad at me” he says emphasizing the 'Sam’. I look at him with a side glance to see him smirking and I giggle a bit, “ahhh there’s my girl” he says pulling me into him. “Listen we’ll go to the concert ok?” He asks “anddd?” I ask “and we can stay after backstage or whatever you’d like because I know how much you care about Shawn, even though I don’t know why….” he says mumbling the last part under his breath. I hit his chest “SAMMY!” I say “geez ok ok sorry obsessed much?” He says “no I just really really care-” he cuts me off “ok ok I get it we’ve been through this you just 'really really care about Shawn’” he says mockingly. I roll my eyes and jump up from the couch turning off the tv “c'mon lets go to bed” I say running up the stairs, I watch as the lights quickly go off and then hear Sammy run up behind me.

—–THE NEXT DAY—– (Still Y/N pov) It’s the day of the concert and it’s about 4:30pm, the concert starts at 6:00, I basically waited out the whole day at home while Sammy was at the studio, I just wanted to hurry up and go. I’m about to take a shower when I hear Sammy come home “Sammy?” I shout even though I’m almost certain it is him “yea babe be ready by 5:30 it’ll take a while in that traffic” he shouts from downstairs. I hop right in the shower —-SKIP SHOWER—– Once I finish showering I go to choose my outfit, I want something casual but hot at the same time. I decide to wear some black ripped jeans and a semi tight fitting crop top that shows off my curves beautifully. I get dressed, wear my hair natural and throw on some light makeup running down the stairs. “You ready Sammy?” I ask him as I approach the Vans I’m going to wear. (Sammy’s pov) “You ready Sammy?” Y/N asks, I’m looking at my phone while I say “yea babe lets go” I walk to the door already with my shoes on to see her putting on her favorite Vans. That’s when I take a look at her outfit “damnnnnn baby you look goooooddd” I say wrapping my arms around her waist “aww thanks baby but let’s go I don’t want to be late” she says kissing my cheek really quick but then running out the door to the car. 'I don’t get why she’s so excited’ I think to myself as I walk out the house shutting the door behind me. As I’m walking to the car Y/N says “Sammy hurry up its 5:15” I roll my eyes unlocking the door and hopping in the drivers seat as she gets in the passenger seat. I start the car up while looking at Y/N to make sure she’s situated then I back out the driveway and drive off. We are about half way there stuck in some traffic, Y/N has her earbuds in and I have the radio on. I look to see that she’s texting on her phone, “who ya textin’?” I ask her. She smiles and laughs at her phone “huh? Oh Shawn” she replies “nice nice” I say while tapping the steering wheel. “Well babe do you want to maybe go out somewhere tonight?” I ask her trying to grab her attention “like where?” She asks finally looking up at me from her phone “maybe bowling or ice skating?” “Umm well- OHHHHHH WE’RE HERE!!” She bounces up and down excitedly completely ignoring my pervious question. (Y/N pov) It’s 5:30 when we arrive at the Staples Center and the place is packed with screaming fangirls. Sam parks the car down the street and we start walking towards the arena. That’s when people start noticing us. “SAMMY WILK AND OMG Y/N THEYRE HERE YOOO EVERYONE LOOK!!!” One girl screams and everyone draws their attention towards us and screaming fans started to bombard us. Just before it got even more chaotic a large man pulled me and Sammy into a door. We appeared to be backstage, “woah oh thank you” I say to the man who seemed to be a security guard “no problem Shawn told me to watch out for you and your friend” he said indicating that Sammy was my friend “yea boyfriend thank you very much sir” Sammy says with sass while dragging me to a couch near by. “Sam, stop being so rude to people for no reason!” I say once we get to the couch and take a seat. He rolls his eyes “yea yea can we please just go out somewhere instead?” He asks “no I want to watch Shawn’s performance” I say. He groans “you know you don’t have to be here, you can leave no ones stopping you” I say in response to his attitude. He rolls his eyes as we see Shawn approaching. I stand up immediately walking up to Shawn to embrace him in a hug. “Ohhh Y/N I’m so glad you’re here” Shawn says in a nervous tone, I pull away from the hug and say “aww what do you mean?” “*sigh* I’m just so nervous” he says “Shawn this isn’t your first performance” I say chuckling a bit “I don’t know it’s been a while” he says looking around the room “well I know you’ll kill it” I say. A woman in a head set then comes over to Shawn “2 minutes Mendes” she says. He looks at me and I nod “I’ll be right here cheering you on” “OHH GAG!” I hear Sammy yell from behind me, I roll my eyes and hug Shawn one last time as he runs to the stage entrance. I go back to sit next to Sammy, “oohhh Y/N I’m glad you’re here I’m just so nervous” he says mocking Shawn. I hit his chest giggling at his foolery “you’re such a dick” I say and he winks at me. “Now let’s go over there so we can actually see the show” I say pointing to a little backstage area where you could watch the show and even the performer could see you. “Fineeee” Sammy says getting up. (Sammy’s pov) “HOWS THE BEAUTIFUL CITY OF LOS ANGELES DOING TONIGHT?!” Shawn screams as he arrives on stage, I prepare myself for the most meaningless night ever. Shawn’s great and all but I think we all know why I don’t fancy him. The show is now almost over, to be honest it wasn’t that bad. It was actually quite enjoyable. “And this next song will be one that’s so near and dear to my heart, this goes out to a special someone, I love you.” Shawn says as he quickly looks backstage, it almost seems as if he’s looking at me. The fans scream with excitement and the beat to “Treat You Better” starts playing “I won’t lie to you,”. At this point Y/N is screaming and singing along, she was doing this most of the show but this song was what really broke her enthusiasm scale “AND YOURE SPENDING ALL YOUR TIME IN THIS WRONG SITUATION AND ANYTIME YOU WANT IT TO STOP…” Y/N sings. Shawn then looks over in my direction again “I know I can treat you better than he can, and any girl like you deserves a gentleman. Tell me why are we wasting time on all your wasted crime WHEN YOU SHOULD BE WITH ME INSTEEEAAAADDDDD” Shawn sings and he winks my way. 'Why the fuck is he looking over here’ I think to myself. I then look at him, then Y/N, then him, then Y/N. That’s when it finally hit me “OH MY FUCKING GOD!!” I yell. Y/N then shoots her head my way and a worried look flashes on her face “Sammy baby what’s wrong?” She asks as she sets her hand on my thigh. I stand up and grab Y/N’s arm dragging her backstage. We get backstage where it’s almost vacant of people “Sammy what the fuck is your problem?!” Y/N says “WHATS MY PROBLEM?! Y/N you act like I’m blind oh my god how couldn’t I have seen it earlier” I say with fury “Sammy what are you talking about?” She says puzzled “YOU! YOU AND THIS-THIS CONCERT! You-you’re so excited and happy and joyous and ughggggghh and you literally broke your vocal chords singing!” I scream “Sammy I’d do this at any concert! What is your issue?!” She shouts “My issue is all those looks Shawn was giving throughout the show just slipped past my mind until fucking TREAT YOU BETTER! Y/N he’s in love with you! He even said it on stage! And don’t you dare lie to me!” I yell “lie about what Sam?!” She asks “YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVE A THING FOR HIM! Y/N YOU DONT EVEN BOTHER TO COME TO MY CONCERTS AND WHEN YOU DO YOU DON’T PAY ATTENTION TO THE SHOW! I can’t even blame him because I do the same thing, I look at the girl I love offstage as I’m singing my heart out but you never notice, you just don’t look. You just don’t care” I say my voice gradually getting lower and more sorrowful as I finish talking “SAM I CARE TOO MUCH ABOUT YOU AND YOUR MUSIC YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! I LOVE YOU AND WHAT YOU DO SO MUCH AND IM ALWAYS THERE TO SUPPORT YOU AND TRY AND BE THERE FOR YOU AS MUCH AS I CAN! I COULD NEVER CARE ABOUT ANYONE AS MUCH AS I DO YOU!” She yells “OHHHH Shut up! You didn’t even know I dropped an album yet you’ve memorized all of his songs!” (Shawn’s pov) I’m on my last song “Roses” when I get to the most intense part “YOU CAN TELL ME TO STOP IF YOU ALREADY KNOW, THOUGH IM NOT SURE MY HEART CAN TAKE IT BUT THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE is 'don’t let me go’” I sing with so much passion. I look backstage to see that Y/N isn’t there anymore. It is true that I’m in love with her, I have been for a while but I know she loves Sammy but tonight I felt so much of a connection and her singing along to my music made me feel so good. “THANK YOU L.A. I LOVE YOU! Until next time.” I say as I proceed off stage and the fans screams fade. I come backstage to see Sam and Y/N in what looks to be an argument “Hey guys everything alright” Sam then looks at me with he deadliest glare I’ve ever seen. “Listen here Mendes,” he says pointing his finger into my chest. But then Y/N cuts him off “SAM STOP!” “SEE WHY DO YOU CARE SO MUCH?!” He asks her yelling “BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!” She yells. Everything goes silent “you what?” Sam asks gritting his teeth. Her eyes then flash with what seems like guilt “Sammy you know I di-” he then cuts her off “Save it, I know where I stand” he says walking off towards the exit “SAMMY!” She yells after him. He opens the backstage door to outside fans screams fill the air but soon vanish as the door closes. Y/N sighs. “Look Y/N I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble with your relationship you know-” she cuts me off “Shawn, honey. Sometimes it’s ok to let your feelings out. You’ve held them in so long and I appreciate you respecting my relationship and just know that I do love you, I love you so much because you generally love anyone who makes you happy and you’re one of the greatest people I’ve met. And- I don’t want to lose you but-” she says but her words start to stutter so I intervene “Y/N I get it, I’m being friend zoned,” she smiles a bit and I chuckle while continuing “I understand everything, it’s fine ya know it’s totally fine” “well good because you’re my best friend and I love you and I don’t wanna lose you"she says “same here, now I think you should go fix things with-” “yea I think I should” she finishes off my statement. We hug and she leaves. 'Maybe one day’ was my last thought as she left.

[pastelingo]

I think I vaguely remember having a dream that like I was playing Wii ping pong on a small tv and then I adopted two invisible childeren. Eaborating on the game, it was dark green floor, grey void instead of walls you know, regular ping pong table, and a bunch of stools behind both sides, and you simultaneously existed in it and real life I think, I wasn’t invisible unless I was looking into the tv at myself, but my invisible childeren were always invisible. I’m not even sure they were there I guess. I was pretending they were getting excited about my success at wii ping pong, but I didn’t really have any proof or anything, I just thought ‘oh yea that’s them jumping and cheering’ but I couldn’t hear them, nothing was moving. I was worried that I wasn’t really paying attention to them and just playing wii ping pong and I should stop kind of neglecting them they just showed up, but also thinking 'nah theyre having fun theyre cheering at stuff’. I don’t know ????