#life is funner when you stop living for the highs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bottombaron · 3 years

Text

the high school Winterbaron au that I'll never write~

Zemo transfers to an American school. his father caught him attending a protest and he can't have him undermining the Sokovian government so now Zemo is living at his estranged mother's house in America.

his mother, being American, means Zemo has dual citizenship. her and his father are separated but not divorced. (Zemo hadn't seen her since she left them when he was four so their relationship isn't great)

Bucky is part of the large friend group of avenger characters (Steve, Tony, Bruce, Thor etc.) but he feels left out. it used to be just him, Steve, Natasha, and then later Sam. but now Steve is being pulled away by friends like Tony and girlfriend Peggy. Bucky has Sam and Natasha, but Nat is closer with Clint and Sam is naturally more outgoing and popular than Bucky is, with his own friends.

basically Bucky is feeling lonely as fuck.

due to a complex powder-keg of racism, American ignorance (on the avenger's side), and an already deep-seated resentment of the Starks' and the American forces bombing Sokovia (on Zemo's side): him and the 'avengers group' do not get along and are instantly at each other's throats

Zemo is constantly causing mayhem at school and trying to get kicked out and sent back home. everyone pretty much hates him and he's fine with that.

*vague plot hand wave* something happens, a bet between Zemo and the 'avengers' ends up with Zemo getting to take one of them out on a date and they have do what he says for the day

he chooses Bucky and everyone is thrown

Bucky hardly knows this guy and Steve and Tony thought it would be one of them. they try to refuse on his behalf but Bucky's not that bothered, '*shrug* he's like, what? 5 even?? (he's not) I could just pick him up and throw him if he tried anything (he could do that tho), i'll be fine.'

Bucky feels weird about it more because he's not a part of this fucking drama and now he feels like he's been made the center of it

Steve and Tony are fighting over his involvement in this mess (Steve is protective, Tony is dismissive) and Bucky is just tiRED

Zemo had simply noticed Bucky was being abandoned by his friends and thought he looked lonely like him. but he's also a little shit and too busy playing the villain (and having a blast thank you very much) to drop the façade

so Bucky and Zemo agree to meet at a mall for a 'date'

the mall Zemo chooses is huge and luxurious and Bucky already feels uncomfortable in it. he sits and waits in the food court where there's at least a Hot Dog on a Stick he can feel a little within his financial comforts

Zemo finds him and they're off walking the mall

they bicker, they banter, and of course Zemo is fucking weird. he's acting like they've been friends for years and excitedly showing Bucky all the window displays like Bucky isn't (technically) there against his will. but it's not uncomfortable enough that he isn't starting to catch onto Zemo's chaotic rhythm and enjoy himself a little

they start to talk in that sarcastic playfully teasing way. Bucky's dry wit and Zemo's sharp flirty replies work really well together and they're actually kind of having a good time

until Zemo reminds Bucky he has to do what he says for the day and takes him to a really fancy boutique and informs Bucky that his task is to try on some clothes with Zemo

Bucky instantly feels panic when he's in the store, it's too big and too crowded and there's actual security guards in three piece suits giving him the most judgmental looks as if he's a criminal

everyone knows he doesn't belong there and that he's small and dirty

he starts to have a panic attack

Zemo notices and pulls Bucky into a corner of the store, hands him a bottle of water and instructs him to focus on drinking the bottle up to the label. every sip of water he must take a deep breath like he's coming up for air in a pool. let it out. and take another sip. and repeat.

Zemo tells Bucky he's going to be right back and leaves to talk to someone important

Bucky doesn't notice when everyone starts to leave the shop

the doors close, the lights dim, the music stops playing current pop and plays something soft and old. when Zemo comes back Bucky is feeling a lot better

Zemo says he talked with the manager and they told him he and Bucky could have the next couple of hours by themselves in the shop, if Bucky was still willing that is

Bucky feels embarrassed but Zemo starts ranting about everything that's triggering in the store, like it was everyone else's fault and not Buckys'. it makes him feel less ashamed. 'it's these florescent lights, the doormen were assholes, that music hurt my head too, etc'. like what Bucky had just went through was perfectly normal and not something bad Bucky did on purpose or for attention like people normally make him feel.

he doesn't question how Zemo got everyone to leave and the store to soften (he actually doesn't know Zemo is rich, he never bothered to know Zemo at all. he was just the guy everyone at school hated)

the two of them spend the time running around like children with the store all to themselves, the only other person a butler-like-attendant that serves them champaign and cashews.

Bucky braces for Zemo to dress him up like he promised he would. he's expecting a trim three piece suit that Zemo was eyeing earlier or something equally uncomfortable. but with how surprisingly well Zemo had been treating him Bucky feels like he can indulge a small dress up party for the guy

he's surprised again when Zemo's wardrobe choices for him are sinfully soft cotton jeans, t-shirts, and the sexiest leather jacket he's even seen

they're clothes Bucky would have picked for himself and he feels great in them

Zemo for his part steps out of the dressing room looking like Elton John meets Cruella DeVil

the ugliest purple fur coat, heels with gold accents, and a crop top that says 'break my hole not my heart' on it

Bucky: that is the ugliest fucking outfit I've ever seen

Zemo: thank you, I love it 😎

Bucky asks why he wasn't forced to wear something more high fashion, Zemo answers that, 'while I would love to see you in a suit I know you wouldn't be comfortable in one. attractiveness is about comfort. my style isn't yours. I'm comfortable in things that you would never be in which is why I make this look good. and you look exquisite in that.'

Bucky blushes but doesn't disagree. he does however tease Zemo about his outfit. 'are you sure you actually pull that off?'

Zemo: oh hunny, I'm fuckable in anything

Bucky switches into his old clothes and whistles when he sees the price tag. 'I could never afford this' Zemo looks, 'ah yes , that is quite the ridiculous mark up.'

Zemo: which is why I was planning on stealing it ;3

and then he runs out of the store with all the clothes he picked out for Bucky, still in his gaudy outfit

Bucky is dumbfounded but quickly runs after him and they stop only after they're at the other end of the mall, out of breath

Bucky: the actual fuck, Zemo!

Zemo: *is wearing his ~who me? I've never done anything wrong in my cute little life~ face* :3

Zemo explains shoplifting is good actually fuck capitalism

and doesn't explain that the reason why they had control of the store in the first place is because his father is an investor and everything they ran out with was technically already bought the moment they touched it

but he doesn't want Bucky to feel indebted for the clothes or make him feel like he needs charity. and rebellion (even pretend rebellion) is funner

Bucky suspects everything is fine anyway because he's not an idiot but it's funner to pretend for him too

the fantasy world that they've created outside of their actual lives and drama, in this mall, on this day, is freeing

Zemo releases Bucky of their deal, the time having been completed

Bucky, instead of leaving, takes Zemo's wrist and guides him to Hot Dog on a Stick at the food court

he treats him to a $5 dinner and watches, trying not to laugh, as Zemo attempts to eat a corndog with mustard in a pair of white Versace cashmere pants

it's the best date he's ever had

#winterbaron #bucky x zemo #zemo x bucky #zemo #helmut zemo #bucky barnes #sad days being the one to write a hs!au fic for comfort #hell not even a full fic #a ficlet?#anyways thanks for reading!#if anyone wants this to write yourself you're welcome to it 😊#i regret posting this without a readmore jesus this is long in the browser sry

116 notes · View notes

nocluewhatsupg · 4 years

Text

Slashers’ reactions to you living in their vents

one of the mods got a very rare disease don’t google it you won’t get answers but if he doesn’t see some fresh slasher tiddie in the upcoming collector film he’s gonna fucking die

Michael Myers

Crouched near the cold vent opening, you peer up at the tall man. Michael paused the violent daydreaming he was doing to tilt his head slightly down, and stare right back at you. This continues for a good while, as the sunlit common room bustled with life around the two of you.

He’s chill about it. Probably because he simply believed Loomis got his medication confused and he was tripping balls or something. Had quietly entertained the idea of escaping through your impressive vents, but he’d never fit. It was much funner to smash heads into doors than stealthing around anyway.

Pins a blanket over the vent opening in his cell just in case. Hypocrite.

Since he couldn’t get to you, and snap you in half, he begrudgingly allowed you to exist in his presence. You found him such a curious inmate, and since he hadn’t tried to tear your spine from your body, you hung around. Any conversation you had was one sided, and he didn’t play along with your suggestion of “blink twice for yes, three times for no”. He accepted any gifts you’d give him, especially candy your nimble hands took from the cafeteria. They were gifts, even if he’d violently kick your vent until you handed them over.

Michael would simply wait until your excitement died down and you realize he wasn’t anything more interesting than a cardboard box. Nothing you said got a reaction out of him, no matter how hard you tried. Even when you dramatically proclaimed your love to him through his cell’s vent, on a beautiful night, he did nothing but pin a blanket over the opening and returned to sleeping with gentle moonlight pouring over him.

When he stages his escape, you stayed in your vents, and you were forced to retreat deep inside the building as he tore open the cover and stuck his arm inside. Looks like all the time you’d spent together never mattered to him, and he didn’t even bother to ensure your death. You’d be waiting for him when he came back, and you finally remembered how cold the damn vents really were.

Jason Voorhees

He is baffled you found a vent in the middle of the woods in the first place.

It was discarded, fallen from a construction van that had driven through the area, and wasn’t missed. From there, nature took its course, short brown mushrooms and elegant green moss covering the artificial silver. Insects burrowed underneath, and lizards enjoyed both the heat and the shade it provided.

Jason doesn’t break a sweat dislodging the vent (and you) from the ground and hoisting it high above his head. The sharp scent of fresh dirt was the last thing you smelled before he violently chucked you directly into the lake <3.

Brahms Heelshire

He got a new nanny, stared at their attractive appearance for one glorious day, then watched them vanish overnight.

With panic, he tore the house upside down searching for them, calling with every voice he could produce, but he found no one but rats.

Dust had clawed at your throat when you stepped into the hollow walls. It became apparent fast someone lived in them, newspaper clippings and disturbing little notes scattered throughout the passages. Through the carved out eyes of paintings hung on the wall, you followed a tall, masked man around the mansion. World’s most bizzare tour.

The longer you watched, the more your terrified expression melted to a mild understanding. The child’s calls drew for you a perfect picture; he was lonely. He must’ve stared from these very walls at other folks for years, dreaming of being out there with them, laughing and dancing. He was outcasted, and what could’ve been an extravagant, luxurious life became one of solitary and strain. Something unjustly tore that life from him, and he was forced to stomach the repercussions alone.

On the other hand, his brown hair was long and greasy. His clothes had holes. He was a visibly grown man making a child’s voice. What the fuck are you doing get out of there he’s going to fucking kill you and if he gains popularity he’s going to be turned into an even shittier bootleg Annabell movie.

Out of sheer luck, you managed to live along side him. He too walks in the walls as you do, but you were careful to keep yourself away from him. The way you got away with what you did was probably because he wasn’t actively looking for you, as even the smallest effort would lead him to spot you. You ate as he did, slept as he did, went through all sorts of noise producing actions as he did. You noticed how he lived, and mimicked it.

Of course, you didn’t really want to live like this. It was bizzare, but you felt as if you’d dug yourself into a hole too deep. If you showed yourself, you feared the worst. Or maybe you enjoyed this strange lifestyle, to each their own.

When Malcom came with supplies, he didn’t seem to mind the empty house. He lingered in the mansion occasionally, until the burn of both your gaze and Brahms’ gaze made him leave with the hairs on his neck standing up. You knew Brahms watched from the opposite wall that you were in, as you knew where the holes were, and you could occasionally see a flash of his white mask.

Brahms left the walls occasionally, and you eventually realised he followed a schedule, each step posted on the insides of the walls. His excursions were very brief, only when he had to make something happen outside, like eating or setting music. Then he retreated to the walls.

The more you watched, the more hesitant you became to outing yourself to him. You learned a lot about him, and the top thing that you noticed was that he was a grade A nutcase. Everything he did, even the simple things, were alien to a normal person’s train of thought. So you watched, and waited, gathering information to produce the best possible answer. Embrace the odd life, confront him, or quietly run?

As he often did, Brahms ate the last of the food during breakfast. He had no reason to spare, but you knew he ate more that usual on these days. It would take him a while to exit the kitchen, as you knew he liked to loiter and watch the rain splatter on the kitchen windows. This, along with the fact that Malcom would be arrving around noon, made today the best possible day to put your plan into action. You knew the kitchen door was unlocked, and the garden had a thick maze you could hide in. Not even once did it cross your mind how odd it was that you knew so much from watching a man, and if you had thought of that, you’d worry for your sanity.

Instead of the trap door Brahms took, which was settled on the ceiling of the kitchen, you took a slightly longer route. Your route, through a lose piece of wall in the living room, allowed for good stealth. As you reached your exit, you anxiously wondered how he’d react. You wondered if it would be odd that you’d stayed for so long. The lavish living room had the lingering smell of a put out fire, and the tap of raindrops masked your footsteps as you tiptoed to the kitchen.

Old habits died hard, and you paused at the arched opening leading to the kitchen, peeking your head out to watch him. It was then, as Brahms dug through a cabnet, that you realised that one thing slipped by your infinite wisdom. You hadn’t thought of the best way to confront him. What to say, where to be, what to do. You fought to settle your nervous breath from growing in volume, gripped the wooden pillar you hid behind, and gave a quick prayer.

He didn’t notice you step out into the opening, as your hands twisted your shirt anxiously. It was only when you set your foot on a loose floorboard, and the creak echoed loud, did he snap his head up. It was difficult to tell if he recognized you through the dust that settled on your face, and you had no idea what emotion was painted on his. Brahms stood quiet as you decided the best thing to do was introduce yourself, and shakily, you did.

After the shock of learning of your existance settled, he did something all your watching could never have prepared you for. He skipped right over why, or how you were living here all these months. What brought you to the Heelshire mansion bored him. No, he instead scolded you. He snapped at how irresponsible you were, hiding from him, neglecting your duty.

Then he did something you predicted. He grew angry. Brahms slammed his fist on the table, and shouted for your explanation. He mocked you as you stumbled for an answer. When what you did say didn’t satisfy him, he pulled a knife from the fat block sitting on the counter. Nothing you could’ve said would’ve worked for him, and even if something did, he would pretend that it didn’t.

It was a little past mid day, a frightened glance to the clock told you. He slept in, and so did you. The clock wasn’t your priority at the moment, as Brahms didn’t care for the fear in your eyes and decided to advance. With adrenaline making your heart go twice as fast, and the thought of your blood gushing on the tiled floor making your mind go blank, the first words that came from your mouth you didn’t even think through.

Giving him a taste of his own medicine, you scolded him right back. It was past noon, and the schedule stated that he had things to do that he neglected. To your amazement, he froze, and you drew more strength into your words. There were things that still had to be done, how dare he neglect that too. You kept your head as high as you could, turning your terrified expression into a disappointed glare, and he stopped. To your command, he dropped the knife, and it clattered to the floor. When you told him to, he shuffled back around and continued eating, occasionally glancing over his shoulder. If he had a tail, it’d be curled weakly between his legs.

You felt like you were going to pass out. You thanked whatever higher being you believed in for that stroke of intelligence. Of course, Brahms didn’t offer you any of his meal, but you didn’t care. You had him under control, at least for now. Patiently, you waited for him to finish, keeping your guard and your confidence way high. The schedule would be followed, and you’d see just what you could get away with. This bizzare predicament could actually work out in your favor.

Billy Lenz

Hey, he thought of doing it first! Dirty copycat. What are you going to do now, get a buddy and start calling people and playing jeopardy with them before you murder them?? Turn this serious and deep genre of film into meta satire???

He’s as surprised as you to see you crawling around in the attic. You might even get a chance to explain yourself before he murders you.

You better start explaining, especially since he’d seen you downstairs, chatting with the other members of the house naturally.

With the charm that got you into that house in the first place, you carefully explain how you didn’t really technically live in the house. How you never technically joined the college, and never technically applied to be part of the house.

Okay, neat. So basically what he’s doing, minus the socialization. Wow. Aren’t you so creative. When he began to give you a strange look, you gave him a quirky little salute, and evacuated the attic as fast as you could.

He lingered in your mind as you ate dinner that didn’t belong to you, visible fear in your expression. You stared at the cracks in the ceiling, and swore you could see the whites of his eyes gleaming in the black darkness. It horrified you, how he was you, but incredibly mentally unstable.

To prove how upset he was at your existence, he strangled your roommate that night, as they slept only feet away from you. You awoke to a cold, clammy corpse, that you stared at in horror.

With guilt fresh on your expression, you abandoned the body quietly. You pried the window in the room open, then threw the pillows and blankets from your bed to mimic a fight. When another housemate discovered the corpse, their alarmed shouts warned you to seek refuge in the attic. It was there that you mulled over the pickle you’d found yourself in, an irrational, impulsive decision leaving your future grim.

Billy wasn’t content with finding you in the attic again. Between fighting his clawing hands, you desperately tried to convey how your lives are now entwined, whether he likes it or not. If you were caught, you explained through gritted teeth, you’d bring him down with you. Of course, he could simply kill you and dodge the more difficult option, so you’d better keep talking sweet if you wanted to live. He had nothing to gain from befriending you, but you had everything to lose.

In the end, you had to give up more than you were comfortable giving a psychotic, attic dwelling stranger. You promised yourself you’d get worse in jail. Maybe he didn’t care about what you feverishly promised. Maybe he just wanted you out of his face, and you probably guessed right, as the second you stopped talking he slid down the opening of the wall and desended to watch the house’s residents flutter with panic.

To your bewildered surprise, it worked. You were classified as a missing victim, and no one ever came to the dusty attic. The payment for this shakey freedom was anything but nice. Often he’d push you from the attic, forcing you to scale down the exterior brick wall with cold wind blowing on your back. There was little warning, and you never knew how long you had to wait in the snow while he did whatever he did. Sometimes he’d scream at you until you left to procure an item for him; usually food. How you got it, he didn’t care, you wouldn’t be allowed back in without it. He saw quickly he could make you do whatever he wanted, and he shamelessly took advantage of that. It almost seemed like your life was his game, which at this point, it might as well be.

Billy rarely slept soundly for long, awakening after two or three hours of rest with a panicked scream. Then, like nothing ever happened, he’d casually go to do something else. He slid noisily down the wall to observe everyone else sleeping. He tore into one of the boxes that surrounded the both of you and explored its contents. On the worst occasions, he’d come bother you, shaking you awake for no good reason. You never snapped at him, because this was better than jail...Right?

Then he began to kill the other residents, returning in the morning with blood splattered on his clothes. He went put of his way to touch you, mumbling the late resident’s name as he painted you red. The first few times made you gag. By the time careful surveillance was set on the house, you didn’t care anymore. You slept during the day, to stay wide awake at night incase he got caught and you needed to bolt. Billy returned from his excursions in the morning as well, and would crawl in your already warm mattress and mumble until he passed out.

When there was no one left in the house, you thought fast. You coaxed him from the attic. Hand in hand, you led him through the shadowy forest, and to the attic of a new, unexpecting house. He smiled at you that day, a real, genuine smile not clouded by madness. The cycle began again, as he slid down the walls and carved new peeping holes. You were so numb. Your blood was black with guilt. You watched the new residents going about their business through the attic’s window, and you found your stomach so twisted you couldn’t eat. The only breath of fresh air you got was daydreaming, of what your life could’ve been if you’d just chosen any other house so long ago.

The oddest thing occured in the new house. He, for once, comforted you. You felt as if you looked into a mirror, as he even said the same things that you’d say to him. But he couldn’t shake the coldness in your core, and with a frostbitten body you were forced to assure him you were fine. Billy shrugged, ate the food you didn’t, and slid back down the walls. Through the dark window, where a small candle allowed you to see your distraught appearance, you knew this would be your life. You’d drag him from house to house, untill he’d killed everyone in the world, and the last person for him to kill was the only one that really deserved it.

Asa Emory

He notices you missing from the collection fast. Escapes weren’t uncommon, but he wasn’t too bothered by it.

He expected to see your mangled, shredded corpse cooling on one of his highly advanced traps. There was nothing to worry about.

When you didn’t show up gutted and gored within a few days, he began to worry. The though of your bewildered face appearing before the police, a wide, fearful expression before reporters made him nervous. If you’d ran out of hell, you’d know how to run back in.

The news interview that would shock the generation never came, and the ouchie he got on his ego healed. That left the obvious final option that you had, or eventually would, expire and waste away alone in a dark corner. That filled him with a good feeling, that you’d suffer a cold death for running from him.

So when he was met with your wild, smirking face in a vent, he felt some sort of way. Mostly anger. You’d not only killed his ego, but spat on it too.

You’d scrambled away before he could grab your boney ankle and strangle you, leaving him to smash his bathroom mirror in rage.

Unfortunately, Asa worked as an exterminator, and you were nothing more than another pest. He wondered if you too would still scramble if he cut your head off. Murder was off the menu that night, and he let you gloat your near death experience for only one final time.

The next day, he patiently set bait. An empty, blood splattered room would do. In the middle sat an empty trunk, and an unsupervised meal. It seemed as if someone lived there, and had been pulled away from a mouth watering dish. Or, a very obvious trap.

If your hunger got the best of you, you slid through the rather snug vent along the floor, quietly moving the grate from its place. A click echoed, just barely loud enough to be heard over the dogs howling.

He watched your heart drop. He watched it shatter as you turned to your sneakly little vent, and find that it was locked shut. A thick metal plate had slid from the wall and trapped you. Not too far after the realization settled frigid in your stomach, did a soft hiss of escaping wind begin to grow.

The exterminator’s poison was clear, but it was not painless. Whether you cried and begged, or you silently glared in defeat, he wouldn’t let you out. You accept the hotel’s damp, rotten air, or you choke on it.

#this is half meme and half actual serious stuff #enjoy #slashers #slasher #slasher community #asa emory #jason voorhees #slasher x reader #michael myers #brahms heelshire #billy lenz

139 notes · View notes

lillian-nator · 4 years

Note

Them being mixtapes are a great idea, what if after Tommy gets drunk initially, dream gets dared to steal them, so he does, then he forgets that he has them and when Tommy Wakes the next morning he's in a panic bc The Mixtapes!! - 💙

Yeah! Something like that could work.

I have two ideas, one of them I came up with during Spanish class, and the second one I came up with right now.

Idea A.

My original idea is based off of the fact that Tommy like a week after he is told not to hang out with Dream anymore, goes and sneaks out to hang out.

So, about two weeks after the party Tommy gets a text from either Purpled (who’s parents have no clue about the party) or Dream saying that ‘the gang’ was going to be hanging out at this abandoned bridge Karl found a while ago when he was driving around the town. So, Tommy, being the dumb fucking teenager he is, sneaks out his window with just his phone and a really thin jacket, and heads to the fucking abandoned bridge.

So, like, it’s really cool lets not lie here. Like its an abandoned bridge, and a bunch of teenagers ranging from 15 to 19, are just sitting on it, legs dangling and shit. Here comes Dream doing some whack-ass parkour, and Big Q walking on the edge. I mean - lets not lie here either, Tommy is doing some dumb-ass parkour shit too, hanging from ledges and shit (no wonder Wilbur wants Tommy to stay the fuck away from the Dteam they encourage Tommy’s dumb shit).

Enter BIG Q the resident family pothead. (this is Big Q the character we are talking about - and more so Big Q the character in this specific au, even though Big Q the character is also probably a pothead, not Quackity the person k cool). Anyways, so while they are all busy endangering their lives atop this ginormous abandoned bridge, Big Q is just chilling, smoking a joint. It gets passed around a couple times, just cause they were chilling at like 2 am in the morning - and what can I say, they are sleep deprived teenagers, they are gonna do some stupid shit.

Anyways, during all of this, they are playing truth or dare, and half way through Tommy just passes out leaning on Dream - because they are like best friends pog. So, then Dream gets a dare to steal Tommy’s mixtapes, because George saw Tommy listening to them on the way here. All of the boys know how much the mixtape means to him, and they really just want to see his reaction, but when Tommy woke up like 30 minutes later, he just gets up and stumbles home because he is cold and tired and really fucking hungry.

So Enter Thomas Innit. Coming home at 3am, just straight through the front door because he is high out of his mind, and having a great time. Phil - who is the one who caught him - doesn’t catch on straight away because he doesn’t know the symptoms of being high, and lets not lie here, Tommy is really good at getting out of shit. (flashback to that one time he convinced niki to drown instead of niki convincing Tommy not to).

What Phil does notice though, is that Tommy is wearing someone else’s jacket.

It’s SapNap’s varsity jacket.

So Tommy starts getting a lecture about sneaking out at night and how he was not supposed to hang out with Dream or SapNap, or that group of boys, until he is ungrounded. (did I mention that Phil definitely grounded Tommy for going to that party). Not to mention that he left the house when he was grounded; like Tommy what the hell?

But then Wilbur comes downstairs because he is an awfully light sleeper and hears the commotion downstairs. Tommy, who is already kind of angry because he was having a really good time with his friends, and he knows that Purpled isn’t getting this lecture - and that Tubbo is still asleep - not to mention he really just wants to fucking eat.

So, he pushes past Phil to get to the chip cabinet when Wilbur enters. He looks confused at first, but then spots the jacket. Wilbur is just getting ready to fucking kill someone when Phil pulls him aside and tells Wilbur that he had already given a lengthy lecture, and that he should lay off Tommy for the night.

Wilbur begrudgingly agrees, only because he knows that lectures from Phil are the worst. So, he sits at the counter, and asks Tommy to hand him a bottle of water when he sees that his brother is snacking on the chips. Sure, Tommy takes a good minute to react, but Wilbur put that aside to sleepiness as it was 3am in the morning.

As soon as Tommy turned around though, Wilbur’s anger shot through the roof. I mean, Wilbur could tell. He had spent enough time with Schlatt half-high trying to make out with Wilbur, to know what being high looked like - and that look was on his fucking 15-year-old brother. He could see it with the red-rimmed eyes, and the far off look, not to mention that Tommy had never been that relaxed in his life.

He quickly stood up, almost knocking his stool to the ground, and grabbed Tommy by the chin to look at his face.

Phil: “Wilbur what are you doing? I already told you that I gave Tommy a lecture. Just let him eat -” Wilbur: “Are you fucking high right now?” (I feel as though it is important to mention that Wilbur like growls this) Phil: “What?” (you know how phil says this) Tommy: *like a moody teenager, gritting through his teeth* “No.” Wilbur: “You’re fucking high.” He laughs, “Who the fuck gave you weed?” Tommy: “I don’t know. It was passed around! Can I have my chin back bro, I’m fucking hungry.” Wilbur: “No you can’t ‘bro’. Why the fuck did you smoke weed?” Tommy: “Why not? You hang with stoners.” Wilbur: “Schlatt has smoked a couple times, I wouldn’t call him a stoner. And also, he’s fucking legal! He is 18 years old!” Tommy: “Well Big Q is 18 too!” Wilbur: “So it was Quackity then? I’m gonna beat the shit out of him.” Wilbur goes to storm off, but Phil stops him. Phil: “Both of you calm down!” Phil sighs rubbing his temple. “Tommy we are going to fucking talk about this in the morning. But, I’m not going to let you kill a Junior Wil. We will sort this out tomorrow. I know you aren’t happy, and I’m not either, but the kid is probably high out of his fucking mind right now, I’m not going to let you take advantage of that.” Wilbur: He brushes Phil’s hand off of his shoulder, storming into the living room. “Fine. I’ll beat him up when he is sober. It’ll be funner anyways.”

Tommy just storms up to his room, pissed that he didn’t get to finish his the rest of his chips, when his phone buzzes.

It’s a text from Purpled asking if Tommy knows where he put his shoes. Tommy stifles a laugh, trying hard not to fucking wheeze - the weed wasn’t making this easy on him - but decides to throw his phone across the room, and faceplant onto the bed, hoping that tomorrow would never come.

Let’s just say that Techno is mildly confused when he waked up the next morning to Wilbur pacing the room, and Phil tiredly drinking his third cup of coffee - chip bad thrown on the counter.

And the mixtapes? Well, Tommy doesn’t know their missing. And Dream? He fucking forgets he has them.

Idea B.

Dream steals the mixtapes on a dare the night of the party.

Tommy doesn’t notice that he doesn’t have them the first few days. He is really, really just focused on the fact that he is upset at Wilbur.

I mean, he tries hard not to be, because Wilbur came and picked him up from a party where he would’ve probably sat in just pure pain for the rest of night. He might’ve found safety in one of Dream’s guest bedrooms, or even in Dream’s loft bed - but he most likely would’ve crashed at Tubbo’s and he couldn’t deal with Eret’s rant right then.

He loved Tubbo’s brother - sure, but he knew that if his own brothers saw the pain he was in, they would quit the lecturing for the night and just try to help him.

He was right too. They helped him into the house, and stayed up with him when he threw up all night, and had a massive headache. They gave him Tylenol and tums, and dimmed all of the lights. Tommy wasn’t upset that he called his brothers no - but he wouldn’t be a teenage boy if he wasn’t irrationally angry at Phil for grounding him.

He spent most of his time in his room, listening to music, or sneaking Tubbo through the window. Tubbo wasn’t fucking grounded - but then again, Tubbo barely had a few drinks of beer, and Tommy had uh - a few cans.

In the long run, his brothers ended up being less angry with him and more angry at Dream for giving him the beer - which really didn’t make sense in Tommy’s mind due to the fact that he was the one who drank it, and he was the one who snuck out to the party in the first place. But, he guessed that it was the perks of being their baby brother, they could never really stay mad at him.

But after a few days, he went to look for the tapes, and they were fucking gone. He didn’t know how to tell Wilbur - he couldn’t face Phil or Techno knowing that he lost his most prized possession.

He came into Wilbur’s room bawling at like midnight one night, and Wilbur - who had no clue what was going on - just had to comfort his little brother. Through choked sobs Wilbur learnt that he had lost the tapes, and that he was ‘so, so, sorry wil. I don’t know how it happened, they were in my backpack when I got there.’

And what does Dream do with the disk? Well you’re gonna have to find out I guess.

260 notes · View notes

yellowocaballero · 4 years

Text

The Crocodile's Dilemma: In Which Helen exploits Michael's Labor, Michael suffers an un-identity crisis, and unpaid internships should be illegal

It’s tough being a teenage embodiment of the Spiral. Your boss/wine aunt figure Helen’s a Tory, your inattentive cousin figure Mike Crew keeps attending philosophy classes and day drinking, and you’re pretty sure that this internship doesn’t have any dental. At least it’s good job experience for your future career in...being evil? But do you even want to be evil?

This small story is technically part of my Roleswap AU, but I specifically wrote it so that no knowledge is required. Still, if you’re wondering why Michael’s an eighteen(ish) year old, Mike Crew’s an Avatar of the Spiral, and everybody is obsessed with Melanie King, check it out. Still, no need. Rest under the cut.

Maybe Helen was right.

Not that Helen was ever strictly right, much as Helen was never wrong, but Michael just had to be doing this whole fear demon thing incorrectly. If someone had explained the whole fear demon thing to them two years ago (“Okay, so it’s like you’re the semi-sentient appendage of an extradimensional force of evil that has to consume trauma relentlessly in order to propagate its own debatable existence, also you’re nonbinary now, no those things are not strictly related, probably”), then they would have called them crazy. Which, of course, they were, but that wasn’t the point. So long as the point existed. So long as anything -

An essential theorem within quantum physics was the quantum Zeno effect.

Simply put, it was the fact that a quantum state would decay if left alone, but does not decay under continuous observation. Even observing the results after the photon is produced leads to collapsing the wave function and loading a back-history as shown by delayed choice quantum eraser. If something was seen, it no longer existed; if something persisted unperceived, it would exist as long as it liked.

So it was explained to Michael by the physics professor he was torturing that day. Michael had trapped the man in the physics building of his university, lured in by one too many late nights in his office and the persistent sense that his life was going nowhere meaningful. After a few classes spent sitting in on his Physics 101 class, maintaining constant and forever eye contact, Michael had eventually tricked the man into giving a persistent and ongoing physics lecture to an empty classroom, desperately trying to explain the inexplicable to a college freshman who did not care. Truly miserable, yet ultimately harmless - Michael’s favorite kind of trick.

But, despite themself, Michael grew interested. They didn’t understand any of what the man was talking about, but that was all of the fun. Understanding ruined the magic of things; broke down the beauty of the universe into cogs and gears. No thanks. They could tell that it bothered the professor, that he said so much and yet knew nothing. That there was so much he would never know, and that he wasn’t so smart after all. How would any of his colleagues respect him?

“So photons degrade if they’re observed?” Michael asked one day, after...some period of time. They had raised their hand and everything, they were so proud of themself. Uni was just like secondary school after all. “Is that true of people too?”

The professor had sweated, deeply uncomfortable with Michael as a person and as a non-euclidean concept. “No - no, not at all. Humans are much more than photons -”

Michael grinned. It wasn’t quite right. “Are you sure?”

The professor sweated harder. “I - no, I’m not. But humans are constantly observed by - by the universe, or something.”

Michael grinned sharper. “Are you sure? Are you being observed right now? Are you sure?”

And the professor was not sure, not anymore, and the fragment of this man’s reality collapsed.

Well, Michael thought to themself, slipping out of an improbable yellow door, that’s another Statement for the Magnus Institute. Not that they would read it.

****

“Now, remember this - the first step to being a successful Avatar is presentation!”

Michael squinted at Helen dubiously. “I thought we were fear demons?”

Helen sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with two sharp knife fingers. It looked as if it hurt quite a bit, but Michael reasoned that they had probably gone through the fifth dimension. “This is the stupidest dimension - fine, fine! Fear demons, then. It is absolutely vital that we conduct our business with style, grace, and the slightest sprinkling of pizazz!”

Just for the flourish, Helen twirled her fingers, and a faint shower of confetti came raining down from the ceiling. Michael sneezed.

“I thought it was vital that we harvest fear and trauma from people to propagate our cursed existence,” Michael said.

Helen’s eyebrow twitched. “More than two things can be vital, Michael. Please pay attention. Now, as a demonstration, I’d like you to take a gander at that man over there.”

Obediently, Michael looked across the bar. They were sitting on barstools in a high-class pub, because Helen knew her worth and never settled for anything less, with glass counters and lots of private booths. But all pubs had their sad men drinking alone, and this one was no exception.

This man wasn’t sullen and slow like a lot of them. He was wearing a nice suit and thin tie, looking straight out of Canary Wharf. Michael silently agreed with Helen’s choice - they took eat the rich very seriously, and also literally. He also seemed a little jumped up on something, with shaking hands and erratic eyes.

“He looks happy,” Michael observed. “Think it’s his birthday?”

“He’s on cocaine, Michael,” Helen said flatly. “Cocaine. We are at a posh bar, and he is currently doing a line off his watch.”

Oh! Michael suddenly felt very uncool. They had never been one of those people in secondary school who did cocaine. They hadn’t been cool. “I knew that,” Michael bluffed. “What are we going to do to him?”

“Take the teenager as your intern, they said,” Helen groused, “it’s investing in the future, they said, it’ll stop them from eating you when they grow up, they said.” She sighed, jabbing a finger at the now very obviously coked up man who was staring at the bottles behind the bartender as if they were whispering secrets of the universe into his ear. Helen liked that one. “Use your intuition. Find a good angle to squeeze. What are his weaknesses to exploit?”

Oh, Michael knew how to do this. They shifted vibrations just a bit, dropping out of what Michael liked to call the ‘mild’ spectrum into the ‘spicy’ spectrum. They were distantly aware of a patron’s glass shattering.

They squinted at the man, picking out his little fears and insecurities like Dionysus picking grapes. Maybe. Michael had gotten a C in English, but they were somewhat cognizant of the Spiral munching heavily on Bacchanalia. Sometimes they felt like some of those children who spoke in tongues and claimed to be from a past life. That had also been the Spiral.

“He owns a Nintendo NES,” Michael said confidently, absolutely sure that this was important. Helen groaned. “His house is painted white, and his girlfriend does tax fraud.”

“Something relevant?” Helen hinted desperately.

Michael just squinted at her. “Relevant to what?”

“...good point. But something useful, please.”

Picky. Michael scowled, but gave the man another good gander. “He only remembers faint details of his father’s face, and he worries that his recollections aren’t accurate,” Michael proclaimed finally.

Helen clapped, delighted, as Michael took a careful sip of their water, turning it into fizzy water. She took a sip of her own wine, turning it into champagne. Or maybe just sparkling unreality? “Wonderful. Now, how should we play this? Insert a false father into his life, completely separate from his recollections, or is that a bit too Stranger? I suppose we could do some good old-fashioned gaslighting, but sometimes that’s just a bit too Melanie, if you catch my drift -”

“Are you jealous that the Archive girls are better at gaslighting than you are?”

“Shut it, kid,” Helen hissed, before taking a long drag of her champagne. “My vote is that we convince him to top off his coke bender with some LSD. Then he hallucinates - oh, he hallucinates that he’s in a mental institution, that’s a good one -”

“Why don’t we shift everything thirty cm to the right?” Michael asked brightly.

Helen squinted at them. They beamed back.

“You are so bad at this,” Helen said.

Michael would have felt crushed if Helen didn’t express this sentiment roughly once per lunar cycle, contrariwise. As it was, they bore the criticism with a stiff upper lip. Helen had her way of harvesting fear from unsuspecting humans, and Michael had theirs. “Look, Helen, you’re being uncreative! We don’t have to traumatize people every single time.”

Helen squinted further. “We’re personifications of deceit. We eat trauma.”

“No, we eat confusion,” Michael pointed out patiently. “Look at it this way. If you give someone one really terrible experience, then they repress it for the rest of their lives and consider it a brush with Hell. One and done, see? But if you minorly inconvenience them for a really long time, then they’ll never be able to break out of it. They’ll feel as if something’s wrong, but they’ll never know it. You can keep the game going for years that way!”

The idea was very good. Michael had been working on it for a while. Truth be told, Michael felt bad traumatizing people outright and making them scream and cry and everything. They always felt as if they were doing something wrong by making other people’s existences a living nightmare. Michael much preferred rigging a corn maze so you were stuck in it for days inside the maze but only an hour outside. It was funner, and much more confusing.

But Helen just pursed her lips and stared Michael up and down, making them squirm awkwardly on their barstool. Finally, as if she was delivering a life sentence, she imperiously said, “Well, we all have our different styles, I suppose! It would be quite boring if we were both exactly the same.” Michael nodded vigorously at this, and Helen held up a scaly claw. “But! You’re my intern, which means that you’re learning from the master here. So shut up and let me teach you how to ruin lives.”

“Yes, boss,” Michael said miserably.

Helen tsked, but she patted them on the head anyway. It tasted like batteries. “Honestly, kid. A literal bleeding heart’s fun for the whole family, but a metaphorical bleeding heart will get you nowhere in life. You can’t exist as you are and feel bad for them. It ruins the point. It’s a paradox.”

“I thought we liked paradoxes, though?”

Helen shrugged, downing the rest of her wine. “Rules for thee but not for me, honey. But I’m a good boss and drunken aunt figure, so I’ll appease you today. Now come on, let’s convince this bar to vote for Brexit.”

They did. It was quite fun after all, tricking a roomful of people into doing something actively against their own interests. But something about the whole thing left a strange taste in Michael’s mouth: not the good kind of strange, or the bad kind of strange that was also good. Just strange, and undeniable, and something that couldn’t be exploited at all.

****

Maybe Helen was right.

Michael was a bad fear demon of the Spiral and Infinite Twisting and That Is Not What It Is and The Twisted Door, etc, etc, All Fear Its Name, etc etc all Hail, because they didn’t always like how their internal monologue could no longer be described through common language. Words and images and understandings were nothing but approximations for Michael now, and sometimes it was frustrating existing outside the boundaries of understanding. Which, of course, was the point, so long as the point existed, so long as anything existed -

It wasn’t always easy. Still, nobody ever got what they wanted if they weren’t willing to put the effort in. The adult world and labouring under capitalism wasn’t easy for anybody. That was what Mum had always said. Who was Michael to complain about their 9-5? Or 24/24? Or infinite/infinite? Or nothing/nothing? Or -

Was it too much to ask to have a linear thought once in a while?

Helen wouldn’t understand. There were only two other approximations of concepts that Michael knew, and Helen would hardly be any help. The other “person” would probably be a better sounding board, but there was the fact that he was kind of pretentious. Still, it was better than nothing. Well, it was nothing, but only in the sense that everything was - argh!

A yellow door appeared in a nondescript basement, and Michael appeared with it. They melted out of the “wood”, taking a second to check their outfit for this apparition - a nice vintage 50s dress with a painstaking stitch that reminded one of the oppressive nature of housewifery, nice. They elongated their curly blonde hair from a roguish mop into a nice little shag and melted into the crowd.

It must have been a passing period, because Michael was buffeted to and fro by tall white men wearing backpacks and shorter white girls hoisting strangely identical water bottles. Somewhere Northern, Michael decided, likely private and small. Not that it strictly mattered, but it helped to solidify their grip in reality a bit if they had some idea. They already knew geography was purposeless and a distraction from the real issues, like shrimp, but occasionally it could be useful. Helen had been careful to impart the central tenet of existence as a non-euclidean concept in undefinable space in the twenty seventh dimension: location, location, location!

It was obviously the Philosophy Department, because all philosophy classes were held in old basements built in the ‘60s in identical hallways. For kicks, Michael turned all of the school hallways inwards and sent them in a mobius strip, and changed all of the door numbers into a headache. The key to enjoying your job was to take initiative in the workplace environment and to just have fun with it!

Michael found themselves in front of a door identical to all of the others, with fake laminated wood, and they decided to go in. The universe had guided them to this door for a reason, and who were they to reject its call?

The small classroom was like most other small, private colleges in unpopular departments that nobody cared about. Lots of single person desks - Michael snapped their fingers and turned them all into left-handed desks - complete with a smartboard and a teacher’s podium. It was already half-full, so Michael carefully slid into a chair in the back and pretended that they had been there all along. A student wandered close, convinced that this was her seat, but Michael successfully convinced her that a different seat near the front was hers, prompting an impromptu game of musical chairs that sent ripples through the otherwise sedate classroom.

There was a blond student already sitting in the front, flipping through a spiral notebook and clicking a pen in no particular pattern. He was wearing a pea coat, jeans, and his hair was weirdly perfect. Michael wished they had a notebook. Was this what you did in university? They had never had the opportunity to go.

Actually, they had never quite graduated secondary - three months away from graduation, actually. It probably wasn’t all that important. You didn’t really need a diploma to become a trauma eating fear demon. Was there a university of eating fear? That would be funny. What would the classes be in, ‘Enforcing the Powerlessness of Capitalism 101’? What was the difference between that and a Business major?

Maybe Business majors were the real fear demons, Michael thought grandly. It was a good thought, they would have to remember to tell it to Melanie later. Melanie would approve. Hadn’t Tim been a business major? Yeah, in that case she would definitely approve.

The student sitting in the front seemed to have finally noticed the game of musical chairs, and as the professor started clearing their throat and announcing something unimportant to the class, he turned around to find Michael sitting in the back of the class. They waved cheerfully. The student scowled.

‘What are you doing here!’, the guy mouthed angrily.

‘Hi Mike!’ Michael mouthed back.

‘Go away!’ Mike mouthed back.

‘But I’m going to eat your teacher :(‘ Michael mouthed back. They didn’t actually frown.

‘ >:(!’, Mike Crew mouthed back, also without changing his facial expression.

This was probably why Mike wasn’t Michael’s biggest fan. Which was a pity, because Michael thought Mike was really cool. He had the coolest name, for one. But shorter, and snappier. Mike was the kind of name girls would call you at clubs. Michael was what, like, your Mum would say as she yelled at you to clean up your room before her book club girls came over. Why were they girls? They were, like, fifty.

Mike Crew was an Avatar of the Spiral completely unwillingly. Chosen as a child and chased throughout his life by an improbably long lasting Lichtenberg scar, he had eventually succumbed to the inevitable and transformed into an even more improbable man. Personally, Michael found it strange that ‘inevitable’ and ‘Spiral’ was in the same sentence, but - well, it had to be everything at one point. Even a melting clock was right once an endless twilight.

Strangest of all, Mike Crew was a philosophy major. The class, of course, was a high level philosophy course. Mike Crew had been in uni - well, a while - and he tended not to waste his time with the boring shit anymore. Michael listened with interest as the professor dived into the lecture.

Two minutes in, Mike subtly gathered his things and slipped into the conveniently empty chair next to Michael. He was still glaring at them, as Michael tried their best to look innocent and cute. The effect was a little ruined by the inherent maliciousness of Michael’s pores, but they liked to think it was the thought that counted.

“To continue our conversation on the topic of paradoxes,” the professor began, “I’d like to introduce a few thought experiments for your consideration as a class. I’ll mention the concept, and then allow you to break into pairs to discuss them.”

Mike leaned into Michael’s ear. “We were discussing Descartes!”

“But isn’t this more interesting?” Michael asked.

“If you give my professor a mental breakdown we’re going to fall behind on the syllabus!”

“The first paradox I’d like to bring to your attention is the Crocodile’s Dilemma.” The professor flipped to a new slide, which helpfully had a big crocodile on it. Michael admired it. They had seen a crocodile at the zoo once. “Similar to the liar’s paradox, the premise states that a crocodile, who has stolen a child, promises the parent that his or her child will be returned if and only if he or she correctly predicts what the crocodile will do next. The outcome is fairly obvious if the parent states that the crocodile will return the child, but the crocodile faces a dilemma if the parent states that the crocodile will not return the child. No matter the outcome, the crocodile is made a liar: if the crocodile decides to not give back the child then the statement proves to be true, and he ought to return the child, thereby making it false. Whatever the outcome, he still violates his terms.”

Michael raised their hand. Mike forcibly lowered their hand.

“If I give your professor a mental breakdown then you’ll have extra time for the test,” Michael whispered back. Mike seriously considered this notion.

“The next paradox is slightly related,” the professor continued. “The Infinite Hotel Paradox.” Michael’s face stretched into a grin as Mike Crew groaned. “It is demonstrated that a fully occupied hotel with infinitely many rooms may still accommodate additional guests, even infinitely many of them, and this process may be repeated infinitely often. This is what we call a veridical paradox: it leads to a counter-intuitive result that is provably true. Therefore -”

“Okay, yeah,” Mike Crew said, slumping in his seat. “You can eat him, this guy is just begging for it.”

“Yay!” Michael went in for the hug, before Mike pushed them away. Michael’s quest for a cool big brother failed yet again. “Do you want to call the -”

“They’re your hallways,” Mike said, persnickety as always. Maybe he was just jealous that he wasn’t a hallway?

Michael raised their hand, patiently waiting for the professor to call on them. He stumbled in the middle of his lecture, adjusting his thick glasses.

“Uh, yes, Miss -”

“You no longer understand gender,” Michael said pleasantly, as they always did whenever they were misgendered. It was an understandable mistake, so they didn’t do it maliciously. Frankly, they just thought it was healthy. Everyone should not understand false things. “Professor, I have a question about the Crocodile’s Dilemma.” They waited for the professor to nod, somewhat confused. “How do you know that didn’t really happen?”

The professor blinked lethargically at them. “It’s a thought experiment. It’s not real, it’s just an idea proposed by philosophers to represent -”

“What makes you so sure?” Michael asked cheerfully. “Crocodiles eat babies. Or dingoes. I think I read a story about this happening in Australia, didn’t you?”

“I - I suppose I did, yes -”

“We wouldn’t talk about it if it didn’t really happen.” Michael felt their voice fall into a rising lilt, like an attractive song that was played to a concert hall but heard only by you. They were distantly aware of Mike lulling the rest of the students into their own hazy daze: aware enough to be confused, but trapped in their seats and the fog of misunderstandings. “Fiction isn’t real. Reality is real. But a thought experiment is in between, isn’t it? Something that strains the boundaries of reality, that proves the fundamental concepts of life, told through a framework of an intrinsic lie. A paradox is a lie telling the truth. You are a truth speaker telling only lies. What you know isn’t so much as anything at all, is it? What do you really know, anyway?”

“One of us tells only the truth and the other tells only lies,” Mike Crew called out, bored. But his eyes were shining in endless refraction, infinite rooms holding infinite guests. “But is it really a lie if you had mistaken it for the truth? What lies are you living, Dr. Young?”

Dr. Young was stammering, eyes swimming, and Michael didn’t dare to break eye contact. It was a delicate spell they wove, but Michael wasn’t so bad at bringing this simmer to a boil. Cooking was about improvisation, and Michael had always been great at that.

“If your life is a lie,” Michael breathed, “then are you really alive?”

It was clear, when it happened: the professor started inhaling deep, deeper breaths, chest wracking with heaves. His eyes rolled up in his head, he clutched at his chest, and he finally slumped down on the floor. He twitched, jerking slightly, and he would continue jerking. At which point the students would become aware, and they’d call an ambulance for him, and he would be perfectly alright in the end. If a little mentally scarred.

“Damn,” Mike Crew said, almost impressed, as both he and Michael stood up. He shoved his pens in a backpack, glad to be free of his examination for another week. “What’d you do to him?”

“Made him think he was dead,” Michael said serenely. “He thought his heart had stopped beating so he had a panic attack. He’s going to have to make an appointment with a psychiatrist but he probably should anyway, work’s very stressful for him.”

“Guess I have the rest of the hour off,” Mike sighed, as he held the door open for Michael so they could slip out of the back of the classroom. It was yellow, and a little strange. “Want to grab a pint with me at the campus pub?” He paused a beat. “Wait, are you even old enough to drink?”

“I’m as old as eternity and reborn every second.” Michael paused a beat. “But I was eighteen last time I checked, and I’ll probably be eighteen for a while, so yes?”

“Great, let’s roll. I need a drink.”

****

Mike’s uni’s pub (Michael had asked the name of the uni but the information had, unfortunately, been lost in next Tuesday, so they’ll know then) was the exact opposite of the high class pub Helen had taken them to. Instead of glassy, shiny, and chromey, Mike’s pub looked strongly as if very many people had puked in it and the staff had tackled the problem somewhat half-heartedly. Michael enjoyed the sight of the puke existing in all points in time simultaneously, giving it a sort of weird yellow-ish shine. Actually, maybe all puke had that yellowish sheen?

When they asked Mike about it as they hopped up on the bar, he just sighed. He flagged the bartender down for a pint, and when the bartender squinted dubiously at Michael they revelled into the micro-confusion of ambiguous ages. Micro-feeding? Like mini muffins?

“Helen made a mistake hiring you. She’s stuck us with a perpetual teenager.”

“I’m as much a teenager as you are a uni student,” Michael said pointedly.

“I’m not an embodiment of the It Is What It Isn’t Is,” Mike said, oddly aggressively. “I’m just a normal Avatar.”

“Fear demon.”

“Melanie King isn’t always right and I don’t know why everyone thinks she is.” Big words from an honored Special Guest on her show. There were many in the fear demon community who would kill for the honor. It was a good thing she hated intruders in her Archives - otherwise they’d never leave. “But I’m no different from - that douche Peter Lukas or that stoner Elias Bouchard or that btich Annabelle, okay? I’m just a guy. Who eats trauma. Plenty of guys do that.”

“Very good denial of reality!” Michael approved. “Normally Helen tells me to go further into denying reality as a concept, though.”

“God, you hallway people are impossible to have a normal conversation with.” Mike huffed, clearly not as irritated as his words would imply. Michael also approved of the incongruity. “I’m assuming that you’re here for absolutely no reason and that you have no idea why or how you ended up at my uni.”

Michael shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, I am here for a reason.” At Mike’s extreme surprise, they hurriedly clarified, “Not with any goal, meaning, or intention in mind! But I just wanted to talk about something to someone who wasn’t technically another facet of my meaningless whole. Helen and I are as index and ring fingers on the same hand, but we don’t really get each other sometimes, you know?”

“Does that make you the pinky finger?”

“I actually had a hypothetical for you.” At Mike’s nod, Michael snagged a napkin from the stack on the sticky bar and began creasing it, somewhat anxiously. “Let’s say, hypothetically, you were a teenagerish nongendered sentient hallway intern who happens to eat trauma.”

“This isn’t much of a hypothetical,” Mike said flatly.

“I’m a hypothetical person. And I’m only a person hypothetically.” Michael started making little folds in the napkin, twisting it up into a strange origami. “So, let’s say, hypothetically, that this person - their name is Michael - enjoyed being them. It wasn’t always fun, and sometimes they kind of missed the world making sense, or at least not making sense in a familiar way. And sometimes Michael got tired of being a sentient hallway and wanted to finish secondary. And maybe even sometimes Michael grows sad that both their parents were eaten by their new boss, who is kind of a Tory! But that’s all fine. Michael’s probably happier like this than they ever were even when they did have parents.”

Mike Crew stared at them a little, slowly sipping his pint.

Michael hunched their shoulders, and folded up the napkin further and further. They had read somewhere that any piece of paper can only be folded seven times. They folded the napkin seven times, then eight, then nine, then ten. That was something nice about the way things were now, they supposed: no rules, absolute freedom. Only rules, no freedom. That was what Dr. Yung would call a paradox. “But maybe the worst part about this new job is that Michael doesn’t really like hurting people. Sometimes it’s fun to randomly make people very upset, and you always kind of end up doing it anyway, but after a while Michael feels kind of bad about it. Michael likes doing other things better, like making terrible roundabouts and rearranging the pages of books. Maybe they even like reading books. They like reading comic books backwards, from the last page to the first, so every panel is a surprise.”

“There’s lots of ways to be a fear demon,” Mike pointed out, almost gently. Maybe only because he could relate. “Look at me. I’m not feeding off anyone. Just myself.”

“But I like the way I do it,” Michael said, frustrated. “Helen keeps trying to get me to do it the way she does it, but the point is that we aren’t the same. What’s the point in having two of us if both our viewpoints are the same? We’re different in every way, but we’re the same being. I just want to be the Spiral the way I want. Not the way Helen wants.” Their voice lowered, almost unwilling to say what they were about to say. “Not the way the Spiral wants.”

Mike stared at them for a long time, slowly sipping his beer, and Michael focused their efforts on forcing this improbable napkin into something that could be beautiful. A lotus flower? A mobius strip? Or should they just let it happen as it happens, and see what form it decided to take?

Finally, Mike said, “You are the Spiral.”

“Then why am I always disagreeing with it?” Michael asked miserably.

“Why are you, Helen, and the Spiral always disagreeing?” Mike pointed out. “Maybe that’s the point. So much as anything’s a point. Isn’t it the most perfect paradox of all, to split yourself into portions that are always disagreeing and bickering? Maybe everything you’re feeling is on purpose. I mean, it’s kind of improbable that you’re feeling at all, right?”

“I retained a lot of humanity,” Michael said. “Maybe a bit too much, actually?”

“Right.” Mike nodded decisively. “Then that’s the appeal. A human mind will always strain against its confines. It will always want different, want the same, want the old and the new and the perpetual and the fleeting and the eternity and the moment. What’s more nonsensical than a human? What’s more contradictory than human nature?” A dark shadow passed over his face, just for a second. “The Spiral kidnaps us and turns us into it. One part of our minds is entrenched in its eternity, and another part is always screaming in agony. But predominantly we are the unholy mixture of human and Entity, oil forced into water. It’s so intrinsically horrifying and wrong that we just get used to it. We are both demon and human, and so we’re neither, and so we’re both. Isn’t it weird, Michael, that unlike so many other Avatars, none of us want to be here?”

“You’re a very philosophical person,” Michael said diplomatically.

“Thanks, I think too much about my lot in life.” Mike Crew sighed, slumping on his barstool and knocking back more of his pint. “I wish you and Helen would stop showing up in my life so often. When you aren’t around, I can almost pretend I’m a person.”

“That’s why we show up,” Michael felt obligated to point out.

“Yeah, I know,” Mike said glumly. “I always know. I can’t stop knowing.”

There was nothing Michael could say or do that fixed this, or that could make Mike feel better. They understood, just a little - that nostalgia for a kinder time. But maybe it was more that Mike never had those halcyon, innocent days. He had lived life since childhood in aching knowledge that his days were numbered. Maybe that’s why Mike was allowed to live life as a human even now: his human life was just as confusing and isolated as his afterlife, and that when fear stained every second of his life there was no point in ceasing it.

Maybe Michael couldn’t keep their human life because they had been happy. At the very least, they had been ignorant. That was one thing the Spiral could not abide: ignorance.

These days, Michael knew everything. They knew everything so, so much.

So, in lieu of comforting falsehoods, Michael offered Mike Crew a slightest sliver of truth. They passed Mike the little piece of origami that they had made, and let Mike cradle it in his large and smooth hands.

The origami had no shape. It wasn’t folded into anything. It was just a meaningless amalgamation of points, corners, and creased paper. It didn’t look like anything at all.

“See?” Michael pointed out. “It’s a bear.”

Mike Crew smiled weakly. “Looks like a sea goat to me.”

There was something beautiful in ambiguity. When something was nothing, it could be everything at once. That was rather Michael’s favorite thing about it.

“I think it’s a self-portrait,” Michael decided.

And that, at least, was as true as anything else.

***

Michael wandered their hallways.

On some level, they were pretty much perpetually doing that. Even as one facet of them talked with Michael in a campus pub, even as another helped Helen convince a high class pub into voting Brexit, even as they traumatized a physics professor, they wandered these hallways.

Make no mistake: everything in this story has/will/is happened/happening simultaneously.

Of course, on another level Michael was literally their hallways, and thus they were not so much wandering as existing. Pulsating, one could say. Even twisting, if one would be so bold.

There was a mirror, in the hallway. Not a funhouse mirror - although Michael did enjoy popping out from those and scaring Nikola - but just a mirror. Gilded around the edges, ornate with swirling curlicues. You could see yourself in it. You could see a lot of yourself in it. It wasn’t what you had always looked like, not really, but you just had the sense that this was what you really looked like. Maybe you had always looked like this, and everybody was just too polite to tell you. Were you really a brunette? This mirror had to be right. You had been a blonde all along. Nobody had told you. They were laughing at you. They were laughing -

But this was Michael, and Michael’s, and nothing in here could harm them. It was even comforting. They looked at themselves in the mirror, and saw themselves same as ever. Or not same as ever. They were still Michael, so far as Michael was Michael.

Shortish. Blondey. Raggedy hair. Curled as much as anything’s curled. Fun clothing that they really enjoyed. Tall shoes, because they liked feeling tall. Similar dimensions to the golden number. Non linear, but who’s counting? It was what they typically looked like.

But, just for a second, Michael even fooled themselves. They saw someone in the mirror that they were not, someone who they had never been, someone who they never will be. Someone different.

Michael, just like everyone else, couldn’t stop themselves from reaching out. Come back. Come back! Let me touch you, let me be you! Michael’s fingers brushed the shiny glass, and the world tilted sideways, and Michael fell into where the sidewalk ended.

They emerged, or maybe they had always been, inside a bedroom. It was a nice little suburban bedroom. It had a peaked ceiling and a window seat. The walls were a soft, navy blue. There was a young person, lying on the shag carpet, leafing through a book. Big headphones were over their ears, and they were bopping along to music. Disco.

Michael stood, an intruder into a familiar space, and watched the stranger. Their throat felt oddly tight, and their eyes felt strangely hot. The stranger was smiling faintly, flipping the pages of their book somewhat mindlessly. They were reading it for school. Flatland. It was just an assignment, but it was really fucking them up. It was making them think about all of these things that they didn’t normally, in new dimensions. It was really cool. All of their friends were just reading the Sparknotes, but they really wanted to talk about it with someone.

This, of course, had happened. It will happen in the future. It was happening now, as Michael watched the scene with an electric sadness. It would never happen, because the Spiral had never been here, and never would be, and always was.

A knock echoed on the door, several sharp raps. Michael didn’t notice, legs swinging to the music.

The knock on the door hit louder. “Michael!” A voice echoed from behind it. “Michael, are you ready to go?”

Michael reached up and slid off their headphones, without looking up from their book. “Coming!” They called back. “Be right there!”

The Spiral watched Michael, who hummed absentmindedly as the door knocked again. Dad was downstairs, making sure the gas was off and shutting off the lights. Mum was knocking, knocking, knocking, on a door that was and will always be wood.

“Have you packed yet?” Mum called.

“Sure I have!” Michael yelled back, glancing at the empty suitcase on the bed and the messy pile of clothes right next to it. They pushed themselves up, flipping the book shut and rising to their feet. “Be right out!”

“Hurry up,” Mum called, as the Spiral mouthed the words along with her. “We’re going to be late!”

The Bermudas aren’t going anywhere, Michael thought spitefully. They stuffed their clothes haphazardly in a suitcase, took far more care to pack their laptop and DS, and shoved Flatland in a side pocket of their backpack.

When Michael slung on his backpack, unfolded the handle from their suitcase, they were not even looking at the door they left through. They were entirely focused on managing the unruly suitcase, and walked straight through the crazed yellow door.

Of course, Michael walked out. Slightly stranger, a little better, a lot worse. Exactly the same. They were back in their hallways again, fresh from their little suburban bedroom and the child exiting one world and entering one quite different. Maybe one part of that child would always be in that bedroom, another part in these hallways, and another part always caught in that doorway and the transition.

Simultaneously, in all points in time, Mum knocked on that wood door, and Michael never let her inside. Simultaneously, at all points in time, Michael watched it all happen.

They hadn’t expected it to be so comforting. At all moments in time, in a little corner of their heart, Mum knocked on their door. If the Spiral lived in your soul and beat your heart, it was easy to find the beauty in it - the magnificence of eternity, and the joy in the moment. Mum was with them - literally, as he was pretty sure Helen was still digesting her. Maybe nothing was ever truly over - just over there.

Michael stuck their hands in their pockets, whistling a jaunty tune that highly resembled the Shepherd’s Tone. Their hallways pulsated comfortingly, and Michael carefully toed off their platform shoes and eyed down the infinite hallways. No rugs for a while.

Maybe Michael, Mike Crew, and Helen should get together more often. Just the three of them. They would drive each other batty. It would be a lot of fun.

Michael set off running down the hallway, and skidded on their socks down the hardwood floor, whooping in joy as they skidded endlessly towards eternity.

#my writing #the magnus archives #tma #the magnus archives fanfic #tma fanfic #michael the distortion #helen the distortion #michael #helen #michael shelley #helen richardson #mike crew #the distortion #the spiral #Michael views their life as an embodiment of terror and unreality as roughly equivelant to capitalism #Helen is kind of regretting hiring this kid but it's probably the only thing stopping them from eating her #Mike Crew really really really hates his fear cousins #i had to open a lot of wikipedia pages for this so you're welcome

83 notes · View notes

bangchanstudio · 4 years

Text

Never Have I Ever | Changbin (3/?)

pairing: seo changbin x reader (fem)

genre: university au, awkward friends to ? something more? smut, house party

tw: sex, attempted date rape (spiked drink), mild panic attack, unprotected sex, penetration, cursing, praising, mild dom!changbin kink, oral sex (fem;receiving), fighting?

word count: 6.8k

ch.one | ch.two

synopsis: you’re forced to face Changbin after ghosting him for weeks, and things happen.

note: I suffered A LOT writing this so please SUFFER WITH ME. Shout out to sera aka @seraplantery for thirsting over changbin with me and his new fresh undercut as i wrote this 🥺 you the real one✨ again, i would love it if you let me know what you thought about this etc. i would love to interact more with those you read my fics!! 🥰 feel free to drop ideas or suggestions/requests in my inbox~ ps. if you would like to be added to the tag list for ✨NHIE✨ please let me know via inbox/message ❤️

taglist: @seraplantery @chang-binnie @synnocence @lordseochangbin

“Spill it, sister.” The way Hyunjin crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently reminded you of your mother when you were in high school, waiting for a confession after sneaking out to a party the night before with the guys.

Suddenly, the ramen hanging out of your mouth that linked to your chopsticks seemed one hundred times more interesting than looking at Jinnie. He was good at seeing through your lies but mostly because you were such a bad liar.

When your only response was a shrug, he let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’ve been acting sus for days now.”

“How?” You asked, still avoiding his gaze, sipping on your straw.

“Well, for starters, you’ve stopped pestering us about what happened at the party.” He eyed you up and down. “Did you remember?”

“Just that we watched a hot ass morning sex video.” You said wiggling your eyebrows. “Really, there’s nothing going on.”

That was a lie.

The only thing that was running through your mind most of the time these days was Changbin. Since that night you went to see him you couldn’t stop thinking about his touch. His skin. His lips. The way he tasted. Changbin got your number from Chan, but you were avoiding him. He wasn’t one to chase or push either, so when you didn’t reply to his first message he didn’t send another.

Chan already interrogated you about the night he walked in on you blowing Changbin, and asked why you haven’t talked to him. You could only assume Changbin told Chan you were ghosting him, and Chan knowing you like the back of his hand decided to mediate. You were grateful, because he never judged you for being an asshole or ghosting people. You were always like this and you had been told by many people that you were “too much”, but not Chan. That’s what made you love him and run to him. Even when you didn’t run to him because you were too self-conscious and didn’t want to annoy him, he’d go to you. Talking with Chan helped you realize you didn’t know anything at all and that it would all be okay regardless.

“You know what your problem is, (Y/N)?” Chan started two weeks after you went to see Changbin at his apartment.

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” You were laying upside down on your couch, feet hanging over the backrest next to Chan who was sitting upright typing away on his laptop.

“You avoid thinking about your feelings. Instead of trying to face them head on and figure them out, you just run away.”

Ouch. The truth of his words stung.

“Just slap me next time will ya?” He rolled his eyes at your remark.

“I’m serious.” He closed his laptop placing it on the coffee table before giving you his full attention taking your hand in his as if you were a child. “Look, you know I love you. I care about you and I want to see you happy. That’s why we need to figure this out together. Tell me, when you look at Changbin, what do you feel?”

That was a tough question to answer. “Do I really have to think about that?” You whined.

“Yes.” He said sternly in his dad voice. “We’re going to figure this out together because if not you’re just going to continue this vicious cycle forever and I won’t stand by it.”

Sighing, you closed your eyes trying to find something, anything that you could put into words.

The image of seeing Changbin for the first in over a year at Seungmin’s house party at the start of summer came rushing back. You were sitting at the bar table in the wide living room of Seungmin’s mansion in a champagne slip dress and red lips talking your half tipsy ass off with your girl friend when she gasped at a hot guy who walked in. The place was overflowing with bodies, the heat made your skin slightly damp and the music was loud. There was a mixture of cigarette smoke and the smell of booze flowing in the air, basically it smelled like a good time.

“Who’s that hottie coming in with Felix?” She had asked shouting over the DJ and pointing at the door with her free hand, drink in the other.

Your heart had stopped and the smile you had plastered on your face slowly faded as you saw Changbin walk in, leather jacket, hood up, hat covering his features, but you knew it was him. He was scanning the crowed, high-fiving and bro hugging Seungmin and Minho as they found him. Minho had turned to find you amongst the crowd and nodded your way, Changbin found you but turned away. He never went up to you that night and you didn’t either.

“I feel sad.” You admitted, voice only slightly above a whisper.

“That’s good, (Y/N). That’s a good place to start.”

[three days later]

“Another party?”

Everyone was gathered around in your apartment eating your food and playing video games.

“Yeah, my parents are going overseas again so it’s the perfect time. I think we all could use a good old fashion house party.” Seungmin, respectable Virgo though he may be, was notorious for his house parties. He always had the best DJ’s, the best drinks and most importantly a big house.

“God knows we need to let loose, especially (Y/N).” Felix smirked over at you wiggling his eyebrows, blocking the pillow you threw at him.

“Besides, it’ll be funner this time since Changbin is back and we’ve been hanging out.” The room went quiet at Jeongin’s comment, just the video game sounding in the background “Oh… was I not suppose to say that?”

“Just focus on your game the grown ups are talking.” Hyunjin hushed the younger boy. “Everything is set to go we just need to go shopping.”

“We?” Everything sounded amazing except parties meant socializing, dressing up and being in public. You had a love hate relationship with parties, about as much as you had a love hate relationship with everything else in life.

[]

The weekend came faster than you could have hoped for and that mean the party did too. All you could think about was how you planned to avoid Changbin, though it shouldn’t be too hard in a house that big. You did it once before. The truth was, maybe you were scared to genuinely fall for him, just as he had said he was afraid of falling of falling for you. The only thing you knew how to do when you were unsure of anything was to run away.

Chan was right and you knew it. Your flight instinct was all you were good at but even you knew it would be your downfall eventually.

“Wear this. From your bestest friend in the whole wide world – Jinnie”

Hyunjin stopped by while you were in the shower and shouted a quick goodbye, reminding you to not be “late” to the party before rushing back out in less than a minute. You pulled your towel closer to your cold body before opening the top of the box and pulling out a really short, strappy, silk red slip dress.

“Does he want me to die of hypothermia?” you mumbled to yourself before doing your hair and make up. All the while constantly checking your phone to keep tabs on Chan’s eta. The best you could do was curl your hair and do some basic face makeup since you loved striking more with red lips rather than heavy eyes. Since the party had a rave vibe you opted for a way heavier highlight than normal and sprinkled a bit of body glitter along your collarbones and shoulders.

“(Y/N), I’m here !” Chan’s voice rang out as you heard him shuffling from the entrance to your room.

“Are you rea– damn girl, who are you?” He stopped dead in his tracks taking you in from head to toe.

“Fuck, this is too slutty right?” You turned from your long mirror to face Chan.The dress fit you well enough, but it was so short and low cut you thought your boobs would fall out at one wrong move, not that you had much to begin with, but this dress sure made it seem like you had a decent amount of cleavage. “Shit, I need to find something else to wear. I swear Hyunjin just wants to make me look like–”

“No! Don’t you dare, you look amazing, you are totally wearing that tonight. Just take a good coat so you don’t get sick.” Just like Chan to nag, you couldn’t help but laugh at his comment.

By the time you both made it to the party it was close to 10pm, definitely late. The taxi left you at the gate at the bottom of a small hill. Making your way up you were grateful you opted for a pair of black boots instead of heels. There were a lot of people making their way up to the house and people spilling out of the house as you got closer. The bass could be heard since you stepped out of the taxi and the closer you got the sounds of chatter, heavy laughter and shouting got louder. Crowds made you nervous but holding on to Chan’s arm made you feel better. After a few drinks you wouldn’t be as nervous or anxious. Alcohol had a way of numbing just about anything.

Stepping into the house the heat of bodies welcomed you, almost immediately encouraging you to take off your coat before handing it to Chan who in turn put it, along with his in the hallway closet. You were familiar enough with Seungmin’s house to be able to use certain areas of his place that would otherwise be deemed unappropriated for others.

“Welcome, welcome friends.” Seungmin said greeting you and Chan with a hug. Hyunjin and Felix followed close behind.

“Wow, (Y/N) that dress looks so much better than I imagined!” Hyunjin didn’t trust your sense of taste when it came to party or club attire so he had the habit of picking things up for you ever since you all started partying and clubbing together junior and senior year of high school.

Felix handed you a drink with a sympathetic look, maybe your nervous were louder on your face than you realized. You looked around the crowd trying to see if you could spot Changbin’s figure but by the looks of it he wasn’t here. Even though you were avoiding him, your heart still sank a little.

Get it together, you scolded yourself.

Before you knew it you found yourself on the dance floor passing between Hyunjin, Felix and a couple of strangers. Drinks and shots started to blur as your nervous melted and you started to feel slightly dizzy at the heat and bass filling your chest. The black lights made everything neon and colorful, there were even bubble machines that left residue of shimmer on everyone’s hair, face and body as they burst.

“Whoa– whoa!” Hyunjin shouted as you grinded your ass on a guy, making you laugh and push the stranger away before turning back to Hyunjin, throwing your arms around his neck and his hanging lazily on your hips. Felix had gone off somewhere, probably the bathroom. “Do you think Changbin will show up?”

You shrugged, not wanting to ruin the fun you were having. “Who knows.”

Eventually, you found yourself alone on the dance floor still as Hyunjin went to look for Felix, probably to do other things with him.

The vibrations of the song were filling you when you felt a pair of hands grab your waist letting you know someone was there, but you couldn’t see who since they were behind you. You let your body lean back into the stranger swaying to the song coming out of the loud speakers. He felt strong and warm though he reeked of weed which immediately turned you off, but you didn’t leave him enjoying his body instead.

“Let’s grab a drink.” The stranger said, grabbing your wrist and leading you off the dance floor, weaving you through the crowd. He wasn’t half bad looking, though, the thought came to you like second nature... but he wasn’t Changbin.

You leaned against the bar, letting the coolness of the marble run up the length of your arms, without thinking you placed your forehead down the bar top to cool off a bit. It felt good against your hot skin and the heat of the room.

“Here you go.” The stranger said handing you the drink with a cocky smile.

You thanked him raising the drink to your lips. He had a dark glint in his eyes that made you hesitate. “Fuck!” You shouted as someone grabbed the wrist you were holding your drink with, jerking it away.

“What the fuck did you put in this?” It was Changbin. You froze as he grabbed the glass out of your hand, still holding onto you. He shoved the glass in the guys face, “Drink it.”

“No way, I got that for her.” He said disgust in his voice, knocking the glass out of Changbin’s hand. It shattered on the floor, but you hardly heard a thing over the loud music that was playing. “What? Is she your bitch?”

“She’s not a bitch and what she is to me is none of your fucking business.” Changbin got between you and the guy, shoving his chest.

Fuck, this was not good. You desperately looked around for Chan or Jisung, anyone that could stop Changbin better than you could. You’d seen him in enough fights to know this wouldn’t end well. Of all the good qualities Changbin had, holding back was not one of them.

“What the fuck man, I was just trying to have a little fun.” The guy shoved Changbin back, though it didn’t have much effect since Changbin had a pretty solid build.

“’A little fun’ by what? By spiking a girls drink? You must be one desperate piece of shit if you can’t get a single girl to sleep with you of their own free will.” Changbin’s words made you go cold.

Did he spike your drink when you weren’t looking?

“No, it’s just funner when their helpless.” The guy retorted.

You could feel the rage boil up in Changbin and spill over seconds before he threw his fist connecting it with the guy’s jaw, sending him stumbling into a crowd. The guy couldn’t recover before Changbin grabbed him by the collar throwing him on the ground and shoving a knee into his chest hitting him again and again.

“You low life piece of shit, I hope you rot in hell.” He said between every punch.

Fuck, fuck, fuck where the hell was everyone when you needed them?! You desperately wanted Changbin to stop fighting. The fact that they had garnered a crowd of on lookers but no one was stepping in annoyed you.

“Changbin, stop!” You pleaded but when he didn’t respond you grabbed his arm just as he was bracing to throw it again, “Please, stop!”

Changbin tensed as he turned to face you, his eyes were scary.. on fire with rage. Your eyes must have been desperate because you could feel his anger slowly start to dissipate. For a moment it was as if everything went quiet and all you could hear was your breathing and heartbeat pounding in your ears.

The stranger seized the moment and opening to escape from under Changbin’s hold and book it into the crowd shoving a few people out of the way.

“Fuck.” Changbin mumbled watching the guy run off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

He helped you to your feet before taking you by the hand and leading you around the bar and up the grand stairwell. His pace was a little faster than what you normally walked and with the alcohol running rampant in your veins you stumbled and struggled to keep up with him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was gripping your hand so tight you knew even if you tripped enough to fall, he would catch you.

The hallway lead off to various rooms and people were piling around room entrances and playing various games from drinking games to board games. The bass still sounded throughout the house, but you could hear a little more clearly from up here.

“Get the fuck out,” Changbin pulled you into Seungmin’s room where two people were making out on his couch. “Now.” He ordered.

The couple glanced at each other but did as they were told, which was good on their part. Changbin was scary when he was mad. You were dreading whatever was about to happen because he pulled you away from the crowd probably to scold you for almost getting yourself drugged.

The couple left closing the door behind them leaving you in a dim lit room with Changbin angrily pacing back and forth.

“You are so reckless!” Changbin’s voice made you flinch. You know he didn’t mean to, but he still needed to learn how to control his anger. “Why would you take a drink from someone you don’t know?”

All you could do was wrap your arms around yourself and avoid Changbin’s eyes. You felt like you could melt under his gaze, or burn.

“There are bad guys out there, (Y/N), just waiting for you to let your guard down enough so they can take advantage of you.” He was saying it with good intentions but that still didn’t make you any less angry about it.

“So, what the hell am I suppose to do then? Just not go out? Not drink or have any fun?” Your argument was weak but you hated being pushed around. Especially by Seo Changbin.

“That’s not the point, (Y/N) and you know it.” He stopped pacing taking an abrupt step towards you, your back hit the wall. He took another step cornering you in.

From this close you could smell his cologne, warm and musky. His chest was rising higher than normal, his anger still evident in his eyes and the way he set his jaw. Damn he looks so hot... wait shut up this is not the right time, you tried shaking the thought away but Changbin hit the wall next to your head making you jump.

“Look at me.” His voice was strained.

“Make me.” You challenged, the words leaving your lips before you could filter them out as this is a really bad idea, don’t say that.

He grabbed your jaw fingers digging into your cheeks forcing you to meet his gaze. It annoyed you how much that turned you on, you squeezed your eyes shut trying to control your lust.

“Do you like it when I get rough with you, is that it?” Changbin squeezed a little tighter until you opened your eyes meeting his. Fuck, was all you could think.

“Maybe.” You replied raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I just want to see you go insane.”

His dark laugh made you tremble.

“You know what drives me insane?” He sneered, “The fact that we had one decent, open conversation and then you ghost me like a fucking stranger you met off Tinder.”

To be fair, you knew it was coming. You shoved him off, crossing the room before slumping down on the couch, kicking your boots off and crossing one leg over the other so you wouldn’t flash him by accident.

He watched you from across the room as you noticeably gathered your thoughts before starting, “I.. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Changbin threw his head back in disbelief laughing before angrily asking if you were serious. You didn’t reply which seemed to only set him off even more. He crossed the large room in three strides before sitting down on the coffee table right in front of you leaning forward, elbows on his knees, face resting in his hands; but you didn’t flinch or shrink away this time.

“Then why did you do that to me?” His voice was lower now, his eyes were closed as if he was struggling just to say those words. As if he was trying to hid the hurt that was laced in that question.

“Because I wanted you to feel the same hurt that I felt when you abandoned me.” The words stumbled out of your mouth again before you could stop them.

You both froze.

It’s not something you consciously had thought out, but as soon as you said it you realized that was it. That was the real reason you were avoiding him, you wanted to get back at him. You wanted him to feel the same pain and loneliness you did when he left. Of what could have been but wasn’t.

“That’s fair.” Changbin concluded before straightening his back. “I don’t blame you.”

You sized him up trying to find any trace that he was lying, but he seemed a little more relaxed now. His shoulders were slack, his breathing was normal, eyes serious.

“Really?”

He nodded. “There is one thing though.” He said placing his hand on your knee before pushing it off your other leg. “I haven’t repaid you for that one time at the apartment.”

Your eyes widened as he pushed your legs apart. “Wh–what are you doing?”

He smirked at your sudden shyness. “I told you. Paying you back.”

“No, no it’s okay, I swear, just don’t mention it.” You clumsily shot up before stepping a safe distance away suddenly cursing yourself for being barefoot.

He laughed with his whole chest before standing up straight. “Come on, you were not this shy sucking me off.”

Your cheeks were burning, you were positive your face was the same color as your dress. Changbin made his way over to you, pushing your hair back behind your shoulder. The closeness of his body, the way his eyes made trails down your neck and collarbones made you tremble again, you tried crossing your arms to keep yourself still.

He noticed you shaking.

“Hey, (Y/N), it’s really okay if you don’t want to. I would never do anything you weren’t comfortable with.” His voice was soft, worried.

“It’s not that,” You trailed off averting your gaze. “It’s just I’ve never been... You know.”

“Never what?” He raised his eyebrow in that way that said, I don’t believe you,”I know you’re not a virgin.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “Of course not, I mean the,” You flailed with your hand trying to get the point across without explicitly saying it, “I’ve never.. you know.”

Realization dawned on his features, “Oh... you’ve never been eaten out?”

“Fuck, yes, Changbin. That. God.” The fact that he said it out loud made you even more shy.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” He said before pinching your cheek and biting his lip.

“This room’s taken.” Changbin called as a couple walked in barely keeping each other on their feet. He shoved them out before closing and locking the door behind them.

“Changbin!” You squeaked as he rushed back over to you, picking you up off the ground and carrying you to the bed before tossing you easily on it. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, one you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Who let you wear this dress?” He asked pulling at it teasingly; undressing you with his eyes.

“Jinnie bought it for me.” You replied. He took off his jacket, the sleeves of his black shirt were cut off revealing his biceps. “Been working out?” You asked not hiding your want anymore.

“Like what you see?” Changbin asked before pulling your legs towards him so your bum was at the end of the mattress.

You nodded, biting the tip of your finger as you gazed up at him. He ran his hands up your calves and thighs before tugging you a little closer to the edge.

“When did you get so buff?” You asked half teasing. He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, you know just looking out for my health.”

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes laughing.

There was silence as Changbin took you in again, staring down at you, his face unreadable as always. “Would it be okay if we forgot everything for a little while?”

His words made you catch your breath in your chest. Your fingertips grazed his hands on your thighs, slowly back and forth before nodding hesitantly, “That sounds fun” You breathed.

Changbin smiled before slipping his hands under your dress and slowly pulled down your lacy black panties. He got on his knees and spread your legs open, the motion made you squeeze your eyes shut squeaking in the process, covering your face with your hands.

“Ah, what? Don’t tell me you’re still shy.” Changbin laughed before placing small kisses on the inside of your thighs, switching between the two. There was a soft romantic song playing in the distance, so you tried to focus on it to calm your increasing heartbeat as Changbin kissed and sucked small spots on your sensitive skin.

His breath was warm as were his lips and his hands felt like they were burning on your thighs. It wasn’t long until you felt your body longing for more of him. He noticed the way your breathing started to come slightly quicker, the way your legs started to unconsciously shake with want and desire. He saw the way you bit your lip trying to keep yourself from making any sound, and the way you covered your eyes with your arm, hand clenched into a fist.

He smirked wanting to make you break.

“Oh, my god.” You breathed as you felt his tongue trace along your folds. You trembled at his warm touch. He liked the way you looked from this point of view and the way you tasted on his tongue.

His mouth found your clit and you let out a “Fuck,” as he drew circles with his tongue, the sensation sending waves of pleasure that you had never felt before. It was so much better than touching yourself. He went between licking you up and circling your clit occasionally sucking on it making you whimper.

“That feels so so good,” Your hands found their way into his hair pushing it out of his eyes, he looked sexy from here.

“I’m glad you like it,” He hummed still at your core, the vibrations of his voice against your clit making you shake.

You could feel the heat starting to rise, the way that familiar knot was forming in your core.

But suddenly, you remembered the guy on the dance floor. The way he smelled of weed, the way he pushed his body against your back. The way he lead you off the dance floor and handed you the drink. The drink you almost drank, the one he drugged to...

The sensation hit you like a truck after a few minutes and you could feel the pleasure start to change into something else, your breathing was coming out faster and heavier. The walls of the room started to close in and you felt like you might pass out. Your thighs were trembling and Changbin had to hold them open to keep you from trying to close them.

“Changbin I– I– fuck, I–,” you couldn’t form a coherent sentence and panic started to rise in your chest. There were black dots starting to dance across your vision, you felt claustrophobic, “Shit, it’s really heavy. Changbin, please,”

“Please what?” He asked, noticing panic in your voice. But you couldn’t speak all you could do was clench his hair making him stop.

“I– I need to catch my breath.” Fuck why were you panicking now. You sat up clenching your chest trying to focus your breathing. Changbin was sitting back on his knees, he grabbed your face between his hands trying to get you to focus on him.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay just look at me. Focus on me.” His eyes and voice were calm but you felt a small part of you unraveling. Your chest hurt from how hard you were trying to breath, you tried closing your eyes but Changbin got your attention again, “No, (Y/N) look at me, keep focusing on me. I’m here. I’m real.”

Your eyes desperately searched his face trying to center yourself.

“The guy fro–from be–before, I– I’m having a p–anic attack,” You chocked out trying to at least tell him what was happening. It wasn’t the first time he saw you panic, but it had been a very long time.

“Okay, baby, don’t worry I’m right here. Just breathe. Can you tell me five things you can see? Come on, just five little things.” You could only see a small glint of desperation in his eyes.

“H–hair,” You chocked out looking at his dark hair, “Eyes,” His eyes that felt like home...

“That’s great, baby, really great. Three more. Just tell me three more little things you see.” Changbin encouraged, hands warm against your cheeks.

“Nose” that you loved to pinch when you would tease him in high school, “Cheeks,” they were flushed, “Lips,” they were soft and still wet from eating you out, your eyes stayed there.

“Great. Now four things you can touch.”

Your breathing was still heavy but you were a tiny bit calmer. You touched the bed for a few seconds, your dress, his hair and his hands on your face.

“Three things you can hear.” He continued calmly, voice like honey.

You concentrated, “rain, piano, your breathing.”

“Two things you can smell.”

“Beer and... your cologne.” Your eyes were closed but you were almost in complete control again.

“That’s amazing baby, now tell me one thing you can taste,”

“Dos XX.” You opened your eyes, he was smiling softly. “Damn it, Changbin I’m so sorry.”

You felt so guilty for freaking out like that. It was something that was out of your control but you still felt guilty and week for letting it overtake you like that. Especially now of all moments.

Changbin stayed on his knees looking up at you. You felt so embarrassed. Why did that have to happen now, you cursed yourself again. It had been months since your last panic attack but something about the way that guy tried to drug you made you lose your mind.

You pulled Changbin’s arm tugging him to join you on the bed. “Can you hug me for a bit, please?”

He chuckled before kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed. He pulled your body back with him as he sat up right against the headboard. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist as you settled between his legs. He rested his chin on your shoulder half mumbling half singing the lyrics to I will follow you into the dark and swaying you gently. You closed your eyes relaxing against his chest, feeling the vibrations as he sang the sweet words into your ear. You felt at home in his arms, they were strong and safe. Like a fortress.

After a while of being like this you shifted in his embrace enough to where you could look up at him.

“What?” He asked half worried half smiling.

“Thank you for saving me. Or well, not saving me but you know... saving me. I didn’t realize the guy was a total scumbag. I should have been more careful.” You looked down fiddling with your fingers.

Changbin was quiet for a long time before responding. “If you let me be near you again, I promise I will always keep you safe.”

You met his gaze again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, yes, I like you. A lot, actually. But I understand if you don’t want to be with me in that way or at least not right now, but it would be really great if we could try being friends again.. like before.”

Like before.

That’s all you had ever wanted. Was to go back to how things had been before, but you weren’t sure if that was even possible anymore. So much at had changed, everything was different. You were different.

“Can we go back to forgetting everything... Just for a little while longer?” You asked placing your hand on his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. You felt tired from the panic attack, but you need to feel something. Something that would replace the fear.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Changbin asked, he was hesitating against your lips.

You nodded pulling him into a kiss, your hands getting lost in his hair. Everything seemed to rush, the way your teeth teased his lips and his yours. The way you shifted yourself to lay down on your back pulling Changbin on top of you as you did. The way his hands slipped under your dress feeling your cold skin, and yours tugging his shirt desperately. You pulled the shirt over his head tossing it to the side before he went back to your lips shoving his tongue into your mouth. You could still taste yourself on his tongue and you blushed.

“I really want you to fuck me.”

Changbin chocked at your comment before laughing, “Damn, you can be really bold sometimes. I like it.”

He wasted no time unbuckling his belt buck, he looked so sexy doing it biting his lip, he knew what he could do to you. Changbin discarded the rest of his clothes and pulled your dress off surprised to see you weren’t wearing a bra.

“What?” You teased.

“Nothing, you’re just really hot.” His lips were hot on your chest, trailing down your stomach and back up again. His hands massaging your boobs before taking one in his mouth, he nibbling on your nipple the sensation making you whimper.

You pulled him by his hair back up to your lips, your legs wrapping around his bare waist pulling his naked body to yours.

“If you make me wait any longer I’m going to go crazy,” You whined pouting at Changbin making him laugh. “Oh, fuck,” he said shaking his head, “I don’t have a condom, I forgot my wallet at home...” At this point you were so turned on you just wanted to hit him, but you needed him so desperately.

“It’s okay, I’m on the pill. Either way, I trust you.” You looked at him as you consented, before pulling his body closer to yours. The tip of his throbbing cock was teasing your entrance and you whined pushing your hips to get closer to him.

Changbin tsked, “You’re so impatient baby girl.”

“I need you, I don’t want to feel afraid anymore.” You didn’t care that the words sounded dumb or selfish, it was the truth.

“You don’t need to be afraid with me around.” He hummed into your neck brushing his head against your cheek, his hair was soft and smelled of mint. “I’ll keep you safe.” his words gave you chills.

“I know that, Changbin.” You didn’t, but you wanted to.

He slowly pushed his tip into your entrance making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Look at me,” Changbin said grabbing your jaw in the way that was starting to feel familiar. “I want you to know that it’s me, that it’s me and no one else.”

You picked up on what he was hinting at, because there were things he noticed that you didn’t. Like what may or may not trigger another panic attack. He was right, so you kept your eyes open, watching as his face scrunched up as he pushed himself into your pussy stretching you out.

“Oh, fuck that’s tight.” He groaned, voice raspy and deep. “Fuck.”

He waited for you to adjust before continuing to move slowly in and out. You were still slick from before, so even though he filled you up it felt so good. The way he kissed your neck, and left love marks made you whine and tell him how much you had always wanted to do this.

“How many times have you thought about fucking me?” He asked, sitting back on his knees and pulling your waist higher to fuck you at a better angle. These types of positions always made you a little self conscious since he had a full frontal view, but you felt safe under his gaze.

“Too many to count.” You admitted laughing before moaning as he picked up the pace in time to the song that was playing downstairs. The friction felt like heaven and you felt the butterflies in your stomach start to turn into little knots. “Have you ever thought about fucking me?”

“Since the day I met you,” Changbin confessed between moans. “Fuck (Y/N) you feel so fucking good.”

“Changbin,” You moaned his name, eyes rolling back shut. You arched your back slightly as he pounded into you, the increased pace was making you feel hotter. “Fuck, if I would have known you were this good I would have asked you to fuck me sooner.”

He laughed at your vulgar comment, “Where? Like at the hide out?” He slammed into you again making you curse, your walls starting to clench around his cock.

“Yeah, that would have been really fun.” You found his hand and squeezed it. “Shit, I’m getting really close.” “Don’t worry baby you can cum whenever you want.” His words made you go crazy, and he praised you telling you how well you were doing. He pulled your legs up over his shoulder and bottoming you out with each and every thrust.

“Changbin, don’t stop.” You moaned as the sound of his skin slapping yours echoed louder and louder, Changbin’s breathing was hitching and you knew he was about to cum too. “Fuck,” The knots in your stomach turned into heatwaves as you released onto Changbin, he slammed into you harder and faster the friction making you see stars.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Changbin moaned your name as he came in you, his hot white liquid filling you up and you loved the way it felt. “Shit.”

He fell on your chest letting your legs rest on either side of him, you both struggled to catch your breath but the sound was sweet in your ears. Changbin kept telling you how beautiful you looked in this mess and how amazing you felt. You ran your fingers through his wet hair, admiring his beautiful features as he rested on your chest.

“Hands down,” Changbin breathed, swallowing his spit to hydrate his dry throat, “My favorite.”

You waited for him to finish his thought but he didn’t.

“Your favorite what?” You probed, putting your arm on your forehead still coming down from your high.

“Oh, my favorite sex round.” He said still breathing heavy, laughing. The sound echoing in your chest.

“Yeah, it was pretty fucking amazing.” You agreed. Changbin pulled himself out of you slowly before settling next to you pulling you close. You rested your head on his chest hearing his heartbeat return to normal, the sound bringing you peace.

His hand traced the curve of your waist, and he did that for long time.

Eventually you both fell asleep and sometime through the night, decided to just keep sleeping getting comfortable under the covers and Changbin’s skin pressed against yours.

It was the first night in a long time where you felt like you actually rested well. The morning light woke you and for a few seconds you started to panic, until you saw Changbin’s sleeping face next to yours. Then you remembered the night before, and the amazing things you felt. You calmed your heart and snuggled back into his chest.

“Mm?” he mused lightly.

“Shh, sorry for waking you.” You whispered wrapping your arms around him tightly. He chuckled and fell back asleep in seconds.

That was until Seungmin walked through the door and started yelling every curse word in the book, “What the fuck do you guys think you’re doing in my bed. Wait, fuck, what the hell did you guys do in my bed? Don’t tell me you fucking had sex in my bed that is so fucking gross. Ew! I hate you guys, we’re not friends anymore, get the hell out of my house and wash the damn sheets before you leave I’m telling Chan on you guys..” Seungmin stormed out of the room continuing his rant.

You and Changbin exchanged looks before bursting out laughing.

“I really hope this doesn’t turn into an everyday thing when we have sex.” Changbin said whipping a tear from his eye from laughing so hard. First Chan and now Seungmin.

You prayed to the gods the same thing.

184 notes · View notes

alduinsbanes · 3 years

Note

20-25 for Severa !

got long so under the cut it goes. thank you, jake!! <3

20. If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?

She would probably be horrified. She would not react well at all it would be such a huge jump between what she is used to and our world. She would probably panic and try and find a way back. Our world and Severa is a bad match.

21. What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves?

As far as personal issues Severa has had some issues with anxiety/depression since she was younger and it wasn’t helped but all the save the world stuff she was saddled with and a lot of the trauma she’s gone through, but she talks to Irene about it and after she defeats Alduin and a lot of that burden is lifted it gets better. As for pet peeves she cannot stand the sound of people eating this is made worse by the lycanthropy with the improved hearing and what not. It’s something she learns to live with. Her biggest pet peeve though is people interrupting her when she talks. This irritates her to no end. She doesn’t snap but she definitely makes a face. Some people get the message other don’t. The only ones who have any sort of free pass with interrupting her are her children because they’re, y’know, kids but she nips it in the bud real quick albeit gently.

22. What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?

She didn’t go to any sort of school house (though they had one in Chorrol) her mother opted to hire a tutor/teacher to teach them personally at home. That being said she was a good student and she enjoyed learning. Of course all schooling can get boring, but even then she still tried her best to pay attention. She did really well and was tutored up until she joined the Fighter’s Guild at 16.

23. What is a random fact about your OC?

She grew up on a small sort of ‘farm’ with a veterinarian (or the tes equivalent of one idk) for a father so she knows a fair bit about animals and loves working with them. She especially likes to work with dogs and horses. She adores cats too but couldn’t have any til she was an adult and living away from home because her father is allergic. That little tidbit didn’t try and stop her from sneaking one into the house as a kid though. Didn’t go over well with her mother.

24. What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?

Overall it’s positive. It was a little grim for a while she didn’t think she’d survive the battle with Alduin (she almost didn’t!) so it was bleak for her for a year or two. It gets better though. Her philosophy nowadays is to take things one day at a time and not worry so much about what the future holds since it’s something that can’t always be controlled.

25. What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fancharacter? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?

I think I made her when I was 14ish(?) and I saw other people with tes ocs on tumblr and was like huh! fun! so I made her. She was very different back then very edgy as one would expect from a 14 year old and she had a different name. She has gone through two previous name changes actually Severa is the third and final name I landed on. She’s always been with Aela tho! She’s always been a fan character though. She has changed a whole lot though and for the better she’s a better more positive character now and a lot funner to work with.

#severa viria #kas answers #rollerz #sorry for any typos i dont proof read my posts i just throw em out there idc

1 note · View note

lunermagick-sims4 · 4 years

Text

Griselda’s Stroy

Part 29 Forgotten Hollow

Griselda went for a morning walk, her head had so many things going through it. She was hoping the fresh air would make things a little clearer. She missed having Minerva to talk to, she swallowed the sob back. “I do not have her no more so I just need to deal with this myself.” The night with Ren was everything she ever wanted. He was sweet, kind and just amazing. Being able to spend the night and being in his arms was loving and comforting. Griselda started feeling guilty, “Caleb is my boyfriend, he has been there for a season now and he has treated me good, but Ren is who I have been in love with for a long time. I do not want to hurt Caleb.” Griselda felt confused on how her love life was playing out. She had no idea what she wanted anymore. She was going to be aging into a young adult next week and she felt at least she got one thing completed. She also found out what happened to her parents

which the town was happy and made her a hero. They gave her enough money to be able to purchase her homestead back with a little more to put aside for safe keeping, Griselda does not feel like a hero, she feels like a cheat and just very much confused. She made a stop for a short time to practice a little magic near the plasma tree down by the werewolf statue. Magic always seemed to help clear her mind. After playing around with spells for awhile she decided to start for home. Once she got home her mind still seemed off, so she grabbed the last spell book that she had not learned and began to read. She officially had become a master witch which she was pretty proud how well she has grown in her magic.

Later on that day Caleb called. “Hey babe! I miss you can you come over.” Griselda did not really feel like it, but she did not want to hurt his feelings. It has been a few days and she should go see him. When she arrives it was just Caleb there and Lilith was out.

“Hey, how have you been?” Griselda asked as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Good good. How are you?” Griselda starting to hate this question but then again she started it, it is just a nice way to start a conversation. “Good as well. I am officially a master in magic. Can you believe it?” Caleb smiled. “You really have built yourself in magic. I knew that side was much stronger.” Caleb leaned in.

“Let go up stairs so we can enjoy each other company a little more.” Griselda really did not want to. “I like to stay down here to talk and catch up.” Caleb frowned. “I want to have sex with my girlfriend, it has been a while.” He was getting a bit angry. “Okay okay. Let go.” Griselda went upstairs with her boyfriend and the two had sex. Griselda come to find Caleb a bit more aggressive then normal, but she tried to enjoyed herself or well he did anyway.

Griselda did not want to stay long after. “I just want to head home. There is a prom going on later and then we are heading out with a bunch of friends after.” Caleb shrugged, “Okay, Thought you wanted to talk.” Griselda felt a bit sad inside. “Gemma has not been home for a few days and she should finally be arriving home soon!” Caleb softened up a bit. “Love you.” Griselda blew him a kiss. “See you later.” Griselda started for home. She was happy to find her best friend home. “Gemma!” Gemma turned and was happy to see her friend too. “Griselda!” The two went and hugged. “I am loving your new hair, Gemma.” Gemma pulled back. “Your hair has grown so much as well.” Griselda never even noticed. “I guess it has.” Gemma looked at her friend. “You okay?” Griselda put on a fake smile. “Yea fine, just been busy so never noticed.” Gemma smiled, but she was worried about her friends. “Let get ready for prom.” The girls got all dressed and went to prom with LeeAnne. Griselda made rounds to see most of their classmates but was happy to be soon saying goodbye to mostly everyone. The girls took photos together in their gowns and had a good time in the park socializing.

After the prom the girls went home to get changed into something more appropriate to dance in. “Do you mind if I invite another girlfriend l met?” Gemma shrugged, Go ahead the more people the funner it will be.” Griselda invited Zemira to join them for a night of fun. She was very happy to be invited. Once Gemma and Griselda felt they were ready for their night out they called up LeeAnne and Zemira to let them know they were ready to be picked up. Both girls were so excited to be going out dancing, drinking and having some fun.

Griselda met a couple of dealers and Zemira talked her in trying speed. “It is the best stuff ever to club with. You will love it.” Griselda shrugged, all she really just wanted to was escape and dance the night away. “You know Zemira that sounds fun.” She bought some and shared one line with Zemira before trying it herself. Griselda smoked some weed first out of her bong and danced with her friends. “Griselda you got to try this speed. I am having a blast,” Zemira said dancing away. “Griselda finally decided to take a hit.

Griselda though she should try picking up a few new client while she was here, seemed like a perfect place. She lost a clients and now she had only one. She was starting to feel the effects of the speed and was feeling energized. “Zemira this is so fun.” She talked to a few people at the dance and one young girl seemed to be interested in becoming her client. She was so excited to have another client as she needed the extra money coming in on the side. Her mind felt over excited, she started to dance and just enjoy herself. “Griselda.” She looked and it was Gemma. “Hey! Dance with me.” Gemma eyed her friend. “Griselda your high.” Griselda started to laugh at her. “I am always high.” Gemma frowned. “I saw you snort powder. That is very different then weed.” Griselda shrugged. “Griselda I do not understand what your going through, but I am not liking what I am seeing.” Griselda just continue to dance and Gemma stormed off. It was 3 in the morning before she felt ready to go home. She was starving so she looked around until she found someone and sank her fangs in. “Mmmm! That felt good.” Zemira spoke, if you ever need a place to crash sometime I am living in Mt. Komorebi, if you ever want to come visit. I think your roommate is ruining your groove girl.” Griselda licked her lips. “Gemma is cool but I will think about your offer.” Zemira smiled. “Sounds good. See you around Griselda.” Griselda waved. She thought it would be a little safer to teleport home then fly.

1 note · View note

cmcreid-warriorprincess · 4 years

Text

Parentdale - - - for plotting ref!

So Lyndsy’s soiree has be thinking about the Havensdale parents a lot and I’d love to plot out some connections with them!! Below’s a list of all my viable parents and their backstories in a compact summary for reference (feel free to message me about connections etc and what it’ll mean for our actual characters!):

Havensdale Natives (they grew up here so high school etc connections like!!)

Karen McReid (single, fc; stana katic) - you know her already! The aunt of Ruby & Carrie, mom of Danny. She was super serious in high school, like ‘class president’ material also with a bit of a wild side but her sis Krystal was the Wild OneTM. Had the weight of the world on her shoulders ALL the time. Eventually dated Daniel Moore (Jenny’s uncle) in high school. Now a businesswomen and all around pillar of the community but keeps an arms length from being too involved in town shenanigans.

Veronica Evans (single) - this is Erica and Rose’s mom! She’s very lovely, a friendly neighbour with a messy ex that no one really knows the real story of (except a select few including neighbours the Wilsons). Close with McReids & Wilsons. Had a lot of friends in high school but lost touch with them when she was married. Is still trying to regain Power over her life and have fun again with friends. Doesn’t date but might want to. Help her.

Chuck and Claire Cooper (married, fc; paul rudd and leslie mann) - the Cooper’s! Christian’s parents and Cam/Callie’s aunt and uncle. Chuck is a teacher at Havens High and Claire owns local baker ‘Claire’s Cakes’. Chuck Cooper was the Ricky Beaumont of his time, total party animal, messy flirt, always up for shots. He’s a bop! Claire is the one who keeps them together, a responsible, very embarrassing mom (they’re both embarrassing tbh). They were BFF since childhood but didn’t get togetherTM until well after high school. ▣ (x)

Victoria Harvelle (married, fc; america ferrera) - Jess’ mom and absolute #dramaQUEEN. She grew up in Havensdale and got the hell out as soon as she turned 18. She’s an ex soap opera star, glamazon and simply #dying over having to be back in Havensdale all these years. Thinks she’s better than everyone - always did. D-I-V-A. Fake friends only probably. Knows her husband is cheating on her. Will not discuss his love child Lua Harvelle thanks bye. Was compelled by Jess to think they’d sent her away for her bad behaviour but tbh won’t bring her up either.

Mitchell and Lacy Morrison (married, fc; alexis denisof and charisma carpenter) - the Morrison parents! Mitch is an absolute dork with really cool socks who owns ‘Morrison Records’. Honestly just...a soft, nerdy Dad who loves his wife more than anything. Lacy is the Bad GirlTM and always was (definitely in love with this nerd all her life tbh). She’s very cool which makes up for how uncool Mitch is. Remember, non-magical people think Mark woke up from his ‘coma’ recently and magicals know he was brought back from the dead. They deserve a nice night, basically.

Aaron and Marie Fairchild (widowed, deceased) - Charlene’s mom/Rachel’s uncle and aunt. Marie died when Charlene was young and Aaron is always on the road for work. Marie was thee Cool MomTM and very involved. They both would have had a TON of friends until Marie died and Aaron became distant. Needless to say, neither are here tonight.

Lyndsy McArthur and Andrew Moore (re-married - fc; , deceased - fc; jason bateman) - Jenny’s parents! We all know Lyndsy of ‘Lyndsy’s café’. She’s an absolute sweetheart with a right hook to match. Another piller of the community TBH, need I say more? The same goes for Andrew who died when Jenny was little (he was a fireman). These two were high school sweethearts, 100% the cutest couple, probably prom king and queen. Lyndsy’s now married to Derek McArthur if y’all remember!

Felicity Montgomery (married, fc; madchen amick) - #icequeen! In high school though she was a punky rebel with a giant attitude problem. Her and Ethan McArthur were also #that couple - don’t remind her. (x)

Maryse Anderson (married) - Effy & Lana’s mom, god help her. Very judgy, very straight laced and god fearin’ - she’s also super involved with the town’s events etc. Probably causes drama at every PTA meeting. Probably has beef with every other parent in town. BIG SECRET: her husband is in jail.

Larry Manning (married, fc; will smith) - Tyler’s dad. Owner of family pub/restaurant ‘The Silver Fox’ and a town treasure. Basically everyone’s dad, always looking out for you and can fix pretty much anything. He’s a settled down, very chill, married man and father. Was literally THE COOLEST guy in high school though, ask anyone!

Fred Porter (married) - the Porter dad! Can you believe there was an original Greg? ‘Cause Fred was breaking hearts, jaws, his own fists and making 1000 mistakes per minute long before his second son was even a thought. He got his act together! He’s a very hard working dad with good, family values who only wants the best for his family. Is so hard on Greg because he sees so much of himself in him tbh. His wife was 100% his saving grace, he loves her so much.

Mr and Mrs Jennings (married) - Isaiah’s parents! Mr Jennings is a member of one of Havensdale founding families so they’re SUPER involved in the town. They’re very fancy, have a big ole house, love to take trips but are friendly with everyone. They’re only snobby on accident. Mr Jennings is very serious and is waiting for Isaiah to stop his nonsense and join the family business. Mrs Jennings is way funner.

Not *from* Havensdale but live here now!!

William ‘Bill’ Tyler (technically, legally still married, fc; mark ruffalo) - Hailie’s dad. He own’s ‘Bill’s Tech Store’ which is a computer store so he’ll fix your WiFi etc. A grumpy loner type with an absolute heart of gold. Everyone who was around at the time knows his wife Grace Laurel Tyler left him and Hailie years ago (her dramatic return is still lowkey on the D.L right now though). Loves his daughter SO MUCH, is stressed to his eyeballs about her having.......a boyfriend. ▣ Was dating Sarah Palmer before she died (Juliette's mom) and honestly, me and Kayleigh figured this out today and I'm still crying.

Joseph Montgomery (married, fc; matthew mcconaughey) - Mr Montgomery! He’s lived here with Felicity since before Elena was born (22+ years). He’s a business man with political ties and always wears a suit. A big ole charmer that you literally can’t help but like!

Mrs Porter - info to follow on Greg, Simon and Annie’s mom but lbr...she’ll be an angel!!!

Penelope ‘Penny’ Manning (married, fc; salma hayek) - Tyler’s mom. The Mannings moved to Havensdale 17+ years ago! Penny’s a high flyer, works in fashion, always has her hands-free in, slightly aloof and very scary when she’s on the phone dealing with a problem. The BossTM. Absolute goals. Loves her son and doesn’t mean to be so absent. Friends with everyone but she never has time.

Joseph Salvatore (married, fc; jared padalecki) - Joey and Keith’s dad (and maybe more). He’s lived in Havensdale full time aroundabout when Keith was born (ISH). Before this, he was a legit rockstar. He toured, he did the whole sex, drugs, drink and rock ‘n roll thing. Now he’s a real pillar of the community, owns the gym, is very involved with the town - which made the arrival of his Secret Son Joey such a SCANDAL. He’s still recovering.

Charles Harvelle (married, MIA, fc; david tennant) - No one has noticed yet or caused a scene about it but Mr Harvelle is currently missing.... Details will follow, for now his wife just believes he’s on another business trip AKA having an affair with his secretary. A mess at being a father and husband. RIP. Has lived in Havensdale aroundabout 18 yrs with his wife and Jess.

Mr & Mrs Thomson (married) - Tessa’s parents. They’re both hunters who’ve been on the road for most of their lives (saving people, hunting things, the family business). Just a fab couple! A supportive, dorky dad and a badass yet super sweet mom. They’re v likable and have been in town for a fair few months now.

#hihrp #hihparent #ooc #is this a good reference or a mess who can say!

4 notes · View notes

storyunrelated · 6 years

Text

Full Metal Princess

As I was walking home I was daydreaming, and I daydreamed about Full Metal Princess which is that half-baked idea I had which was basically “Heh, it’d be funny if you took, like, a stereotypicall princess in a big poofy dress and stuck her in a mech. That ‘d be funny.”

So I thought about that and this is what I came up with.

Princesses in poofy dress and also Titanfall 2 and also weird headless monsters kind of?

I don’t know. Here’s a cut.

The King and Queen

The benevolent rulers, formerly of the flesh, now a merged entity of pure thought. Presently engaged in solving what is said to be 'An intractable problem'. Thus occupied, they have passed the running of things over into the more-than-capable hands of their many, many daughters.

Colossi

Colossi are a vital everyday feature of the Kingdom, and indeed emblematic of the Kingdom itself and its people.

Machines in the shape of people, to put it bluntly. Mechanisms imbued with a crude sapience - a little less than animal, and far more loyal - and able to function brilliantly under capable direction. Better still, those larger ones are capable of taking a pilot, enhancing the abilities of those inside to superhuman degrees.

Most stand a little taller than a grown adult and are designed to be worn, to boost strength, provide protection in battle and so on and so forth. They are found the length and breadth of the Kingdom, in all walks of life.

Royal Colossi are the only true Colossi, though, being as how they have the size to match the name, but to reach such a size requires a prohibitively large amount of precious Cavorite, hence their reserved usage for the royal personages. The lesser Colossi of the Royal Army and the civilian types remain formidable and useful, but not quite as breathtaking or awe-inspiring.

Dresses

The sheer profusion of lace and ruffles stopped the blade long before it reached her. Foolish of their foes to think they could ever hope to penetrate the dress of a Princess.

Princesses wear dresses. Their poofiness reeks of regality and their fabric can turn bullets and blades alike.

Indeed, these days, those dresses often conceal equipment of alarming potency...

Princess First

"I've seen this sort of thing before. Again. I mean, when have I not?"

The eldest Princess, and the one with de facto seniority by dint of experience rather than anything else. She has seen the most, her sisters know, and therefore always has something of value to offer no matter what it is they might be up against.

Her personal Royal Colossi is the singular, legendary Colossotron. First of the Royal Colossi. Family heirloom, revered relic and all-round national treasure. A machine of sublime beauty and majesty - suitable for the first Princess.

Laid low on the field of battle more times than can be counted but always recovered and rebuilt, Colossotron serves as a walking reminder and symbol of Royal solidity and might - every inch of its armoured plate inscribed with stories of its valorous past, its cloak woven from the shattered weapons of countless foes.

Princess Ignition

"Might I suggest fire as a solution?" "That's always your solution." "If I did not suggest it, you might all think there was something wrong with me."

Diminutive and pugnacious, Princess Ignition is the Princess who spends the most time out with the Royal Army. They are rightly glad to have her, for her regal bloodlust is tempered with a surprisingly cool sense of tactical planning. Fights are fun, she is quick to point out, and funner still if you know you'll be the one winning.

Her Royal Colossi, the pyromaniacal Salt The Scorched Earth, is a veritable nightmare of a machine, festooned with blades and capable of turning whatever Princess Ignition might encounter into a blazing inferno before they've even realised she was upon them.

Princess Mechanism

"That new irrigation system we've been rolling out is set to improve crop yields by at least twenty-five percent over the next ten years. Twenty-five percent! That's crazy-talk! Can we talk about that? No? Alright..."

Were it up to Princess Mechanism, she would spend her time making things for the sheer thrill of it. As it stands, she makes things for the benefit of the Kingdom, which works out just as well for her, and so she is happy.

An inveterate tinkerer and adjuster and inventor, Princess Mechanism is forever designing and building machines and devices for the benefit of her subjects, not to mention the occasional tweak or improvement for the Colossi of her sisters. She just can't help herself. If she goes too long without making something run a little better she gets twitchy.

Her Royal Colossi - the ever-changing Get The Quotes In - is the least combat-capable of all of those possessed by the Princesses, but this is by choice. It is an engineering machine first and foremost, designed to assist in construction projects and to aid her in the deployment and setup of any one of her myriad devices and projects.

If push does come to shove, though, she is far from helpless, and what with Princess Mechanism's endless tinkering and upgrading and adjustments the odds that Get The Quotes In might be carrying something both surprising and deadly are usually fairly high...

Princess Range

"..."

Not really one for talking, Princess Range is a Princess of action. Then again, all of her sisters are Princesses of action, often making her seem to fade into the background somewhat, especially given her proclivity for silence.

This is, of course, by design. The background is where Princess Range prefers to be, as the background is often at a distance, and in the distance she can pass unnoticed, observing problems and, indeed, solving them before those problems even realise that they are problems at all.

Her Royal Colossi is the comparatively svelte and famously quiet It Must Be Rats, which has a far greater ability to pop up in places people wouldn't expect than a thirty-foot machine made out of metal has any right to. Also, it has a whacking great gun. Princess Range likes her whacking great gun, but won't tell anyone it's name.

Princess Devastation

"Far be it from me to be the voice of moderation - again - but have we considered diplomacy?"

Despite her aptitude - and great talent - for wanton destruction and mayhem, Princess Devastation dislikes violence in a general sense, viewing it as wasteful and ultimately self-defeating, creating only further problems down the road.

Often this has led to fairly heated arguments between herself and Princess Ignition over the nature of conflict as a driving force for change and societal improvement, but such debates tend to remain civil and productive.

Her Royal Colossi is the frankly outlandishly big We Should Have Tried Talking, a lumbering heap of armour and missiles that somehow still manages to walk. Slow to manoeuvre and easily outflanked and outrun, it compensates by being more than capable of immediately and irresistibly flattening anything that happens to be unlucky enough to stand in front of it.

For while she may find violence distasteful, Princess Devastation would be the first to point out the way making a problem simply disappear can often provide a stopgap in lieu of a proper solution.

Enemies

Giants - Inscrutable beings of living flint who live in the far North. Rarely seen, thankfully. A potent and devastating race, where even the smallest individual is a veritable force of nature. The larger members, though loathe to descend to lowlands, are rightly feared, for they are as mountains that walk, capable of destroying armies with little effort should they be so roused.

Their vigil keeps all from venturing North, almost as if there is something there they are protecting...

Slaughtermen - Belligerent and curious creatures of living clay that rise spontaneously from most of the (many and widespread) ancient, long-forgotten battlefields spread throughout the Kingdom and beyond. Self-described as having a diplomatic disposition of 'unpleasant', they merrily murder one another and anything else they happen to come across, building odd monuments to individuals and events they themselves cannot even remember.

Every so often one of particular size and vision - a Slaughterking - will emerge and suddenly the whole mass of Slaughtermen will take on a different character. Now, they will have a goal, and a leader with the will to push them towards it. That Slaughterkings often rival a Royal Colossi in size and strength only makes things worse.

Anthropophagi - The curious, corpse-farming headless men lurk at the fringes and do their best to keep out of the sight of honest citizens, and for this the people are profoundly grateful. They tend nowadays to give humans a wide-berth - having learnt that particular lesson several times now - but those persons living on the very edge of the Kingdom do have a tendency to go...missing...sometimes.

It may come to pass that the Anthropophagi require the lesson taught to them again.

#Full Metal Princess #Amwriting #Writblr #Writeblr #Writing

5 notes · View notes

hamiltontrashaccount · 7 years

Text

Homesick ( Platonic Phillipa Soo x Reader)

A/N: Hey everyone! I am so sorry I haven’t posted a fic in a while! This is a super shitty excuse but I just really hate typing on my parents computer and its the only way I can write fics so I have to force myself to type on this computer to write fics and I just really hate typing on here. But I will try harder to get my fics done quicker! Also, quick note: I’ve never actually really felt homesickness so I hope that I did described how it feels to feel homesick! Please feel free to send some constructive criticism if you have any! Enjoy guys!

Request: Can you please write a platonic Pippa x fem!reader, where the reader is homesick, and Pippa makes her feel better? I loved your Anthony x reader btw!!

Word Count: 1431

Warnings: not really anything, just some homesickness

MASTERLIST

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|$y\/n$/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

New York was great. You’d never been to any place better. It was so freeing to live there; the people were so diverse and no one there judged you for anything you did.

But no matter how great New York could be, Libertyville, Illinois would always be home.

You hadn’t gone back home for almost a year. Your schedule was so busy all the time. You worked as a theater director in Hamilton: An American Musical. You loved the job; but it kept you busy. Too busy to even call your parents.

During a show on Friday night, your mom had called you. Since you were busy working to get everyone to their places, you couldn’t answer, and when you finally found time to call back, it was way too late and you knew your mother would be asleep. The next morning you’d tried calling her but she didn’t pick up.

“Damn it. She’s probably at work.” You mumbled.You’d tried to remember to call her when you knew she had lunch, but you got busy again and forgot to call.

It wasn’t until a week later when you finally had an extra hour to yourself that you checked FaceBook to see what was going on back home.

Your mom got a new promotion at work. Your dad won some contest and got a giftcard to Starbucks. Your sister went to a party with all your old friends. Your cousin just had a baby shower. One that she didn’t invite you to. You two had always been close.

You tried to stop the tears from coming; you really did. But you couldn’t help it.

When had everyone decided to shut you out?

Sure, it was all tiny, insignificant events in their life. But you were missing out on it all. You and your family had all been close, and now because you were in a different state, you were missing out on all the good things. You threw your phone on the sofa and covered your face with your hands. You pushed the heels of your hands against your eyes to try to stop your tears but it didn’t help. The tears flowed anyway. You cried until you fell asleep.

You woke up late the next morning, so you didn't have time to put makeup on before going to work. Your eyes were puffy and red from the night before, and you almost cried at how unprofessional and just plain disgusting you looked.

When you got to work, everyone was laughing and talking about their plans for the weekend. You heard Anthony mention how he was going to take Jasmine to meet his parents. Jasmine gushed about how the previous weekend, she’d gotten the chance to go back home and show of her boyfriend.

You quickly ran to the bathroom, not bearing to hear another minute of their conversation. You wished you could go back home this weekend, but your job didn’t allow you to take a vacation.

In the bathroom, you tried to calm yourself down, but no matter how hard you tried, the tears still fell.

You heard the bathroom door open and a voice called out.

“Y/N? Are you in here?” Your best friend since high school called out.

“I’m in the last stall Pippa.” You answered.

You saw her feet move from underneath your stall.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You sniffed before answering. “No.”

“Open the stall door, please.” Phillipa asked, pushing lightly against the door. You obeyed and opened the door.

Phillipa held tissues out to you, but you raised the tissues that were already in your hand. “I’m in a bathroom. I already got some.” You chuckled.

Phillipa laughed with you and walked into the stall, closing and locking the door once she was inside.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“I miss home.” You said, your voice cracking. “Everyone’s so happy but I’m not a part of it.”

Phillipa sighs before moving to hug you. “Hey, it’s okay.”

You shook your head. “No. I want to go back home, just for a little while. But I can’t because work, and I can’t leave everyone here and-”

“Y/N, everyone will be fine without you for a weekend.”

“I’ve shown up five minutes late before and everyone was in a rush and unorganized and-”

“We’re adults, we can figure things out. And that time you’re talking about, happened on the first preview we ever had. We had no idea what to do, but now we do.”

You shook your head again, but didn’t say anything.

Phillipa sighed, but didn’t say anything else. She stayed silent as she held you. You cried for another couple minutes before taking a big sigh and breaking away from Phillipa’s embrace.

“I’m okay now.” You said. Phillipa gives your shoulder one last rub and takes your hand. You both walk out of the bathroom.

Everyone gave you sympathetic smiles as you passed all of them, but thankfully, no one mentioned anything.

The show that day went well, but that didn’t bring your mood up.

Later that night, Phillipa goes home with you.

“Are you still feeling homesick?” she asked once you two settled on the couch.

You sighed. “Yeah, a little bit.”

“Well then,” Phillipa said as she smiled. “Looks like we’re gonna have to order us some pizza and order a Postmates to bring us some Rocky Road and Cookie Dough ice cream.”

You smiled.

“Yes, there’s the smile!” Phillipa cheered. “Oh, and I’m still behind on Orphan Black, so we’re going to watch some of that.”

“Mmm, I love me some Tatiana Maslany.” You giggled.

When your pizza and Postmates arrive, you and Phillipa stayed up for the next three hours watching Orphan Black.

“Thanks Pippa. I really needed this.” You looked to her. “Just some quality time with my best friend in the whole world.”

“Anything for you.” She responded, laying her head on your shoulder. After going through two more episodes, the both of you fell asleep on the couch.

Even after quality girl time with Phillipa, you still couldn’t cure your homesickness. Every time you checked FaceBook, something new was happening with everyone in your family. The next two days were just as miserable as the last.

No matter how hard you tried to hide your sadness from Phillipa, she could still see it. She’d known you for almost 10 years; at this point, there was nothing you could hide from her.

There was only one solution to fixing your homesickness. Phillipa worked fast to get everything set up and soon her plan was ready to be set in motion.

Two days after girl’s night, Phillipa showed up to your apartment early in the morning.

You sat up groggily from your bed and looked at the time. 5:30 a.m.

You got out of your bed and grabbed the bat next to your nightstand.

You checked the peephole of your front door and sighed out in relief when you realized it was just Philipa at the front door.

“Pippa Soo, what the hell are you doing here so early in the morning?”

“Our flight leaves in three hours. Pack up quickly so we can get to the airport on time.”

“I, uh, huh?” You stammered.

She raises up two plane tickets to your face. “We’re going to Illinois.”

“But.. how? Work and-”

“No. I talked to them and they’re giving us the next two days off. So that’s three days we get to go visit our family.”

“Pippa, you’re really doing this? Taking a vacation just for me?”

“Well, I mean, it’s not much of a vacation. I have to babysit you.” She joked. You shook your head but laughed with her.

“How much do I have to pack?” You asked.

“Enough for two days. Now chop chop. We only have like an hour to get there.”

Phillipa helped you to pack up whatever you needed and 20 minutes later you both were in a taxi heading for the airport.

While waiting for your flight, you and Phillipa ate at one of the restaurants there.

“Thank you again, Phillipa. You really didn’t have to do this.”

“I know I didn’t. But I couldn’t stand to see you sad anymore.” she said, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand affectionately.

“Well, now I have to set up my own spontaneous vacation. Maybe we’ll go somewhere funner this time. Like Vegas!”

Phillipa giggled. “Yeah, definitely Vegas.”

That weekend was probably one of the best of your life. And you owed it all to Phillipa.

59 notes · View notes

inst4nt-n00dles · 7 years

Text

07.18.2017 - Please Don't Play with My Heart (1:45AM)

I must be in some perpetual state of denial right now or something. We’ve been texting for a couple days straight now. Something must be wrong, terribly terribly wrong.

I have to be careful, above all else, with my emotions when dealing with this. I convinced myself that this is a result of his boredom now that it’s summer and he doesn’t have much to do. And once fall comes around we’ll stop talking again. I have to be careful; so that when that all plays out, I won’t fall back into that dark loop that’s still spinning me around and around and around, never really slowing down. I’m dizzy, I’m nauseous, I can’t afford to let him break me down after all the progress (???) I’ve made.

But I can’t help it either. Even just the prospect of a response from him waiting on my phone has changed my entire attitude. Unfortunately, I fall under the unpopular category of letting others influence me. As a struggling introvert, I’m sensitive; sensitive to my surroundings, to the people I encounter day to day. I take life too seriously, I feel too much, over-analyze, and I’m a big believer in fate and destiny. Hell, there’s nothing wrong with me, and I will stray from being ashamed because it’s okay; it’s okay for me to depend on people. Sometimes people bring out the best and worst of each other; he just happens to bring out so many positives to the negatives of my life. Just by purely existing in my life, he indirectly makes life funner, more tolerable. He makes life worth more to me.

I can’t quite explain the feeling of just wanting to exist just so you can coexist with someone else. It’s like a hunger, a drive that gives you natural highs when you’re around them and jealousy/withdrawal symptoms when you’re away from them. I remember the first couple times we hung out together. I never wanted to leave him, so much that I became agitated and even fidgety, like a little girl pouting because her beloved stuffed animal was being put in the wash. Just the fact that he’s back in my life, as fleeting and artificial as I make it out to seem, has lifted me to feelings of safety, comfort, and relaxation that I haven’t felt in over a year. I’m a firm believer that there are people who benefit the lives of others by just gracing them with their existence. However…

…I can’t believe in that. I’m forcing myself not to. Why is he talking to me so frequently again? What is his game, his intent with me? I’m literally tentatively tiptoeing this line he cast me over a swamp of man-eating alligators. I can’t help it, I know what this could ultimately lead to, I know there is a 99% chance that I’ll get hurt again, but I’m blind and I just walk the line anyway. I’m in a trance, I’m stuck, I don’t care, I do care, I’d do it again and again and again for him. Stop! No! I have to be careful (she says glumly and reluctantly to herself).

He told me I overthink things, put meaning behind things that don’t mean anything at all; I’m sorry but that’s who I am. In contrast to his logical, mathematical, calculating mindset, I believe in ulterior motives. The unconsciousness. Dreams, symbolism, past experience affecting future behavior, nature vs. nurture. I study life differently than he does. And that’s where we disconnect; but that’s where we fit together too. I want so bad to impact him like how he impacts me, but alas he doesn’t see me that way or maybe I’m not that person.

I’m scared. I know I’m going to get hurt again at the end of the summer. Involuntary tears well up in my eyes just thinking of the pain that will return to torment me when he becomes too busy for me because he’s over me and I’m too far away to do anything about it (even though I force myself to stay away despite how much I want to). I’m terrified and paranoid. I’m in agony and going insane. But my heart is covering shielding it all just enough, because I need him in my life, despite the self destructive path I’m well aware of. Having his attention for a month and a half is apparently worth all the pain and tears that will come after it ends.

I’m a fool.

#inst4nt-n00dles

1 note · View note

cohentoplaywithmagic · 8 years

Text

merry unbirthday to you || self para

WHO: Tina Cohen-Chang and Unknown WHERE: Brooklyn, Abandon City Hall Station WHEN:Sunday 12th March, Afternoon WHAT: After a few text messages, Tina agrees to meet up with the unknown number at Brooklyn. WARNING: None

Brooklyn was like any other place in New York, constantly busy and always pulsing with movement. Strangers shoved and bumped into Tina s they walked by too tired to care after a long day at work or Business men and women shouting on their phones about stock sales or other. Tourists were flashing their camera’s trying to get the best angle of Brooklyn Bridge to say that they have been. Curing and yelling came from he crowded roads as taxi pulled over with new indication. Honking and sirens blaring too, the sweet sympathy of New York naturally played.

Tina could not help but wonder how oblivious everyone was remaining in such mundane routines with the thing that had been happening in the magical world. She could not help but feel a little wobbly thinking about the mundane and how only a few years ago this was her life style. The innocence and ignorance of it all, how she misses it but at the same time she doesn’t.

She shakes her head clinging onto her backpack straps with sweaty hands. The brown paper package remained wrapped in her bag. The temptation to just unwrap it in the middle of the street was growing stronger. Longer she was waiting, the more she was tempted too. Her heartbeat quicken twice. She clings onto her bag tighter stopping from opening her backpack. Tina checks her phone to see no messages from the unknown number.

An unpleasant thought sweeps her mind. What if this was a ploy to get rid of her? She left campus without any messages on her whereabouts. Marley messaged everyone when she went away just to be safe. Aether, if Blaine hadn’t messaged her she wouldn’t have known. She scrolls down to the ‘The F World’ starting to type her whereabouts just in case.

“Miss me?” a chilling voice whispers in her ear.

She gasps, her phone slipping through her fingers. A deep chuckle feels her ears.

“Nothing ever changes does it?” a cloaked figure bends down picking up the techno witches phone placing it in her hand with a card.

Tina looked down at the card that had been placed in her hand. In thick black marker the word Untraceable had been scribbled over the three of hearts. She recognized that handwriting anywhere. “Cid?!”

A pair of blue eyes met hers with a nod. He presses a finger to his lips before beginning to walk ahead.”Keep up child.”

Not once did the man look back as he was making his way through the crowd. Tina could only recognize him from his constant obsession with his fedora hats, there were only so few occasions that he had not been wearing one. Actually, the day that the two had first met had been one of those days. She never questioned why he wore them all the time, just as he had not questioned why she decided to be goth. A silent little compromise between tutor and student.

He walked briskly not looking back.

“Cid...Cid could you slow down?” Tina pleaded.

“Now, now dear. Quick sticks, keep up,” he began on rambling, “Speed is equal to distance and time. Distance isn’t a long way to go but time is a luxury that we are not fortunate to have. Thus our speed must quicken child, I am not asking you to be the speed of a cheater as that is not the magic the aether blessed you with, nor would be the flash. Aether, child have you ever thought about the possibility that you could quicken your speed with the use of electricity affinity. Now why was that not a curiosity we tried?”

Tina just stayed silently as her tutor was very, very much lost in his own trail of thought. This was the normal when having Cid Dreyar’s as your tutor. He was rather lucky that Tina was the patient type, though his rambles could get annoying at times. She sighs shaking her head at the old fool. Cid leads and Tina follows. Questions could be asked but if they were going to be answered,well that was another story entirely with Mr Dreyar.

The both push through the crowds coming to a quieter spot clearing. He jumped down the steps two at the time. She paused at the top of the stairwell. “Should we be here?”

Cid let out allowed huff pulling out the card that read Untraceable. “Don’t forget all my little tricks missy. Now come, come.” He stared whistling a happy song as he walked deeper into the old abandon City Hall Station. She follows him closely looking up at the old walls she had not seen in such a long time.

Ten months had passed since she trailed these old tiled roads, as they curve and twist as the subway intended it too. Overhead you could see the sky from the ceiling windows. She looks up at them, reminded of such beauty this abandon place held. Modern stations were pale in comparison to this place. Her footsteps echo louder in the endless route of nothingness. The old fool jumped down from the platform, tightrope walking against the old tracks.

She was about to comment but he stuck out a finger to silence her. “Live a little dear. Have some fun. Why walk the normal way when there is a funner way?”

“Safety is best,” Tina retorted.

“Safety doesn’t seem like to be the option you have been making as of late. Now has it Tina?” Cid glances up at her.

Tina holds herself a little. Of course the old fool would know something had been up with her. He was UMC appointed after all but he always had a good way of knowing what she had been up too. At times a little stalkery checking her tumblr and social media. It was sorta coming from a good place. Still she wishes there were things that he didn’t know. She didn’t look in his direction as the two both walk in silence side by side.

He finally jumps up to the platform, walking up another staircase too an dead end, where two green door were locked together. Tina folds her arms back waiting for him to do his thing and show off. Cid pulls out a deck of cards floating from his hand. Under his breath his whispers <<Unlock>>, his blue magic circle appears as four cards raise from the deck each one floating to the lock followed by a click. The lock falls off with a thud. Cid smirks impressed his is own magic, even to the extent to applaud himself.

“Can we go in?” Tina mumbled.

Cid opens the door bowing a little before. Tina walks through the door to an old dusty study that had been sealed away by the lock. Books were unselfed piled high, alchemy bottles and viles sat collecting dust, old newspapers were left scattered around, old sheets covered the furniture. Everything left untouched for months but still a place that felt so very much like home.

She pulled off the sheet from the seats as a veil of dust filled the air. Tina swats and coughs the dust away, taking her place at her old spot. A torn up single chair that was big enough for her to curl up in. She took her grimoire out of her bag ready to question Cid about the package when she felt a slight nudge at her feet. A small white rabbit nuzzled at her feet.

“Alice!” Tina cheered, picking up Cid’s familiar to her lap.She held snuggled with Alice trying to ease herself. It was strange being back her but aether was it a blessing that it had been Cid who has been texting her and not them.

Cid pulled up a seat in front of Tina pulling out two flasks,”Tea or whisky?” He offers Tina.

“I’m not old enough to drink Cid. I’m nineteen.” She rolls her eyes,”I’m fine thanks.”

“Nineteen? You are twenty.”

“Tomorrow.”

Cid when quite blinking blanky at her. “Are you sure? I swear your birthday was the 12th.” He fishes his playing cards in his pocket flicking through to the Queen of Hearts that had Tina’s name written on it. “See, I marked the Queen of hearts the 12th card in the set to remember.”

She reaches forward,”It is the 13th, the King of Hearts,” Tina holds the card up between two fingers. “So that is why you sent me the package and the text message?”

He picks up the flask of whisky downing it,”My apologies but then I don’t apologies especially from your text message.” Cid clears his throat,” You..you aren’t them?--Now do you want to tell me what that is all about?” He crosses her legs,”And what about staying out of trouble?”

“I...I joined the sponsor program.”

He throws his head back,”Yes the trickster and the slayer who you both took to save the Bloodline!” Cid clapped his hands,”You really are staying out of trouble aren’t you, young one?”

Tina held Alice closer to her,”Can we not talk about it please.”

He slams the flask down,”We will do not such thing Tina Cohen-Chang. We shall talk about because it needs to be talked about. You stray away so much. Months now you have been like this. Let me guess; you have not been sleeping, you hardly use to eat before so I am guessing you are eating less. And let’s not talk about certain posts on your blog.”

Tina curled up tighter,”I know Cid...I know.”

“But....” he began,”For the next 48 hours I’ll leave you be, but we will talk about this Tina. Everything.” He passed her over a playing card, a countdown down on it,”48 hours and we will talk about what happened and who this ‘they is’ but for now, let’s enjoy your birthday.”

She took the card, putting it in her grimoire. “Cid...thanks.” She latched herself onto her tutor knowing that he was not always too big on affection. Tina was taken back to feel two arms wrap around her.

“Remember...I know you can’t talk to your parents about this but you always have me,” his words were filled with sincerity, “Even though I make it a challenge to find.” Cid pulls away, “Have to keep you on your toes. Now!” He clapped his hands together, “Let’s celebrate this.”

She blinks a little, “Than--”

Cid cuts her off as he strikes a match lighting up a cupcake with candle that he took out of his jacket. “It would not be a birthday without a cake.”

“But it is tomorrow...”

He just laughs,”Then you can open your gift tomorrow.Are you forgetting Alice in Wonderland? It is a merry unbirthday to you so....”

A very merry unbirthday To me To who? To me Oh, you A very merry unbirthday To you Who, me? Yes, you Oh, me Let's all congratulate us with another cup of tea A very merry unbirthday to you A very merry unbirthday To me? To you A very merry unbirthday For me? For you Now blow the candle out, my dear And make your wish come true A very merry unbirthday to you

Tina felt herself going slight red at his solo singing and switching voices but it meant all to her. Closing her eyes she blew out the candle. Not making a wish but hoping for the best.

The next 48 hours, she could have some peace before spilling the truth to the one person she could not lie too.

#tag:self para #para:merry unbirthday to you #//so much longer than i wanted it to be #//but hey fun

6 notes · View notes

robotsandramblings · 8 years

Text

“92 truths tag meme” - I should be going to bed but this sounded funner :P

tagged by the lovely @shavothehusky ^_^

Rules: Write 92 truths about yourself then tag 25 people

LAST… [1] drink: milk [2] phone call: shit idk lol [3] text message: brother [4] song you listened to: p sure something from the Voltron S1 soundtrack lol [5] time you cried: laughing at some vine compliation last night

HAVE YOU EVER… [6] dated someone twice: nope [7] been cheated on: nope [8] kissed someone and regretted it: not rly [9] lost someone special: yes [10] been depressed: no [11] gotten drunk and thrown up: i have a few horror stories lol

con’t...

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLORS: [12] orange [13] green [14] blue

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU… [15] made new friends: a few yeah, mostly work or here [16] fallen out of love: not rly [17] laughed until you cried: all the time lol [18] found out someone was talking about you: yeah some idiot at work overreacted over a situation, long story short it was her fault but she was trying to make me look like a bad guy, thankfully she doesn’t work there anymore lmao [19] met someone who changed you: kinda? I moved in with a friend/coworker and like she didn’t change me as a person persay but she’s the best roomie i’ve ever had and i do feel different bc i’m finally happy with my living situation y’know [20] found out who your true friends are: lmfao yeah i’d say that. like when i went on a special trip with 2 former roommates and after we got back, one of them changed her profile pic to NOT a picture of the 3 of us, but just her & the other girl?? like wow ok thanks for the slap in the face... [21] kissed someone on your facebook list: nope

GENERAL… [22] how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: i know all of them, isn’t that the point?... i don’t add randos or strangers?? [23] do you have any pets: my roomie has 2 cats whom i call my stepsons lol [24] do you want to change your name: no i like my name actually :) [25] what did you do for your last birthday: i honestly don’t even remember, it was that uneventful lol. i think i just visited my famjam and chilled [26] what time did you wake up: 11:30am huehue [27] what were you doing at midnight last night: laying in bed listening to music [28] name something you cannot wait for: movies!! Avengers Infinity War, Black Panther, Wonder Woman... and Voltron S3 !! [29] when was the last time you saw your mother: idk 2-3 weeks ago? [30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: my job. it sucks the happiness outta me. i hate so much about it now. i jsut want a steady job with good hours and pay that i don’t hate :))) [31] what are you listening to right now: nothing, surprisingly. i almost always have music playing... [32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: yes [33] something that is getting on your nerves: p much everything lmao. short temper queen over here [34] most visited website: tumblr, pinterest, facebook, recently marvel unlimited [35] elementary: yes i went to elementary school. i even passed. [36] high school: yes i went to high school. i even passed. [37] college/university: waste of my time and money since i no longer care about my degree or its related field lmao lmao :))))))))))) [38] hair color: brown [39] long or short hair: in between right now. growing it out again. [40] do you have a crush on someone: asdfghjkl Shiro, Bucky... andmaybeLancebutisthatweirdtosayshitidk [41] what do you like about yourself: i'm very independent and i’m 100% fine with being alone and keeping myself occupied [42] piercings: just mah ears [43] blood type: lmao idk A+ i think [44] nickname: rora [45] relationship status: single [46] zodiac sign: aries [47] pronouns: she/her [48] fave tv show: Voltron, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, TFP, TFA, i used to loooove Criminal Minds, and i’m pretty hooked on Riverdale rn [49] tattoos: noooo i hate needles lol [50] right or left handed: right, but sometimes i think i border on ambidextrous?

FIRST… [51] surgery: never had any, knock on wood... [52] piercing: it took me like 15 years to get my ears pierced no lie lol [53] best friend: had one from kindergarden (age 4) right through high school, and then she just... stopped talking to me when we both went away to university. thanks gurl [54] sport: swimming lessons! and stuck with it for a good 13 years. also did soccer for a long time [55] vacation: first major vacation that didn’t center around our annual camping trip was probably to Western Canada - Alberta and BC. [56] pair of trainers: wut

RIGHT NOW… [57] eating: i just had a spoonful of peanut butter and choc chips bc i fuckin can and i don’t have any reese’s cups lmao [58] drinking: milk [59] i’m about to: go to bed [60] listening to: still nothing lol [61] waiting for: my ass to finish this questionnaire lol [62] want: to get my ass to bed lmao [63] get married: only if Shiro or Bucky are gunna pop outta my screen and into real life lmao [64] career: workin at a large booktore (it’s not as glamourous and wonderful as you’d think...)

WHICH IS BETTER… [65] hugs or kisses: hugs! [66] lips or eyes: EYES [67] shorter or taller: taller [68] older or younger: older (for a romantic partner, and even for friends, a lot of my friends end up being older than me lol) [70] nice arms or nice stomach: arms, baby [71] sensitive or loud: not a fan of loud ppl tbh... [72] hook up or relationship: w/e [73] troublemaker or hesitant: probably hesitant for me lol

HAVE YOU EVER… [74] kissed a stranger: nope [75] drank hard liquor: oooh yes [76] lost glasses/contact lenses: i don’t have them [77] turned someone down: not rly [78] sex on first date: nope [79] broken someone’s heart: don’t think so? [80] had your own heart broken: only pining after unattainables lol [81] been arrested: nope [82] cried when someone died: yes of course. and guess what , if it’s someone close, you cry more often after they’re gone too. thanks eyeballs [83] fallen for a friend: maybe once?

DO YOU BELIEVE IN… [84] yourself: depends on the day lmao [85] miracles: sometimes yes [86] love at first sight: yes [87] Santa Claus: YES FITE ME (i legit wish he was real) [88] kissing on the first date: yes [89] angels: yes and no? i guess i like to believe that some ppl i’ve lost are “watching over me” in some way, even though i’m p much atheist...

OTHER… [90] current best friend’s name: Sam aka idontshootthemessenger <3 and some girls from childhood or work but you don’t need to know thier names [91] eye color: brown [92] favorite movie: omg so many... Transformers (1 & 3), Captain America 2 & 3, Avengers, Saving Private Ryan, Lord of the Rings

i can finally go to bed lmao :P

#R&Rpersonal #nah it's ok i wnated to do this :P

1 note · View note

artofpeacelove · 4 years

Link

When the outside is off limits, you run out of of fun and fresh things to do inside. Like once you’re down readjusting your schedule in between fits of power sobbing, you just get bored by the monotony of your scenery. I remember when I first realized this would be a problem, when my roommate told me, “I feel like we need to download TikTok.” “No, we’re 29, Amber,” I said. “Not even in an apocalypse.”

This was three weeks ago; you’ll understand that it was a different world back then.

1. Tie-dye your old T-shirts

Getting in touch with tie-dye will (literally) add some color to your drab existence.

2. Make friendship bracelets

Keeping on that summer camp train, friendship bracelets can ease you in a state of flow (and make for celebratory “We made it!” gives for when you reunite with your buds).

3. Learn a new card game

Blackjack? Poker? Go Fish?

4. Play a new virtual game with friends online

America is under Animal Crossing’s soothing lure right now, but we’re also very partial to these games you can play remotely with the whole damn gang.

5. Host a cocktail making competition

It could be virtual or it could be in your own home, but let’s see who gets the most creative with the ingredients left on their bar cart!

6. Put together outfits with the clothes you never wear

If there comes a day when you’ve exhausted black sweatpants—and I respect that some of you live there now—test out some of the lesser-used garments from your closet. You might find some hidden gems!

7. Learn how to French braid

Fishtail is fine, too, but this slumber party hairstyle is great for when you need to remember a simpler time.

8. Remove your split ends

Don’t cut your own bangs, we’re not that deep into quarantine for that kind of judgement call, but you can fix split ends safely without going hack-happy.

9. Become a ballerina

Has it always been your secret dream? Break the tights and tutu out, because there are about a gazillion online ballet classes that can make you feel like a regular Swan Queen.

10. Sew face masks

Even if homemade faces masks won’t directly protect from the coronavirus, they’re a kindness with a practical, ultimately prosocial use: they can stop you from touching your face.

11. Take a crash course in positivity

Hell, get an Ivy League joy degree with Yale University or University of Pennsylvania.

12. Get in touch with your birth chart

Learn how to read your natal chart and decrypt the nitty gritty of your star-sanctioned personality.

13. Do some purge-writing about something that’s frustrating you

Chances are you have some grievances right now. Get out a piece of paper and some wacky colored pens and blergh out all of your negative emotions. Look at a few days later and then put it through the shredder!

14. Take a virtual tour of a museum

Even if you’re not going to Paris in the spring like you planned (le sigh) you can still take a stroll through the Louvre or any number of venues to get a culture fix.

15. Redecorate your house with witchcraft

I actually gave my apartment home makeover with witchcraft last year and would highly recommend! I mean, there’s bad juju all around us and you might as well make your space a sanctuary while you’re stuck there.

16. Have a romantic solo date

I was pioneering enjoying being alone way way before it was…mandated by the government, so here’s my night-in take on my solo date idea: pour some wine, make your favorite (cauliflower) pasta, light some candles, and crank up the Frank Sinatra. You can decide if you want to take yourself home (lol) later.

17. Have a kitchen dance party

Do dance parties as much as possible! Do it with your partner! Do it with your long distance friends! Do it with yourself if you need to! Just do it!

18. Upgrade your daily stretch with laughter yoga

Head to YouTube to give yourself some lols, no downward dog required.

19. Watch the adorable penguins at the Bronx Zoo grow up

Wildly specific but there are two baby blue penguin chicks at the Bronx Zoo right now and your girl is following their every MOVE. Incidentally you can also take a virtual tour of the zoo, and heads up, there’s snow leopards!

20. Hula hoop for exercise

As the office’s resident Mrs. Maisel, hula hooping is the best form of exercise in the world, and we all should be doing it.

21. Make a gratitude jar

Write three things you’re grateful for every day and put it in the jar—highly beneficial if you’re quarantining with family and trying to not be at each other’s throats.

22. Interview yourself

Just sent my roommate a bunch of soul-searching questions, really get to know who you are and what you love about yourself.

23. Take your self-pleasure to the next level

We know times are tight, so we have some affordable sex toys, and household items you can use in a pinch.

24. Dye your hair a cotton candy color

If you’ve ever felt self-conscious or like you couldn’t pull it off, you know… f–k it. I’m rocking Manic Panic hot pink as part of my go-to isolation aesthetic.

25. Write letters to pen pals

Make a new senior friend in a nursing home or pen love letters to your long distance (read: housebound a few miles away) sweetie. Just because we can access everyone through technology doesn’t mean people don’t want written words to hold onto (don’t worry, mail is most likely safe).

26. Upcycle your old clothes

If you’re not really into a modern day hippie aesthetic, there are other ways to reinvent and repair your old threads.

27. Make some whipped coffee

I can’t lie, it looks delicious and worthy of all the Instagram love.

28. Declutter your entire home

You’re already disinfecting like crazy, go full Marie Kondo while you’re at it.

29. Dust off your grandparents’ old recipes and give them a whirl

Pull out the index cards and even Zoom them in while you’re cooking them (unless they’re like, gone, which is still a good reason to recreate YiaYia’s avgolemono soup.

30. Ask your parents to tell you a story about their childhood

I don’t know, even after a full year of “Ok Boomer,” we do feel very protective and loving towards our parents during this crisis.

31. Explore some of the most beautiful National Parks in America

Until you can explore them in person, this go for a virtual nature walk.

32. Fill every inch of your house with daffodils

Or whatever flower you find fitting, bring the outdoors indoors!

33. Read the entire Baby-Sitters Club series

During Zoom happy hour we played a trivia game, and you know who crushed the Baby-Sitters Club series? Your girl. There are 131 books total, so either check back in with Kristy and the gang for the nostalgia factor, or literally read this ridiculous YA series as a bizarro adult project.

34. Do absolutely nothing

Lol, I mean, that’s going to be a first for some of you! Enjoy the moment of sitting there and being idle!

35. Do an online workout with pop icon Cher

I mean, you can definitely do a more dignified online workout, but I’m going to start my morning with Cher’s 1980s hot dance.

36. Try out a new kind of meditation

Maybe a grounding root chakra meditation or a compassion meditation.

37. Take a bath with all the trimmings

Bath bombs, bubbles, salts, if you’ve upgraded from your garbage apartment to somewhere nice, indulge yourself.

38. Watch a movie remotely with your crush

The Netflix Party extension can help you there!

39. Redecorate your desk space

I mean, you might as well jazz up your home office while living that WFH life.

40. If you’re partnered, have an hour long make-out sesh

I’m sure your boinking like crazy, but why not kick it old school and simply enjoy kissing?

41. Spend about a trillion hours on Pinterest

Fill your feed with literally everything you love!

42. Practice a new language

There are plenty of language apps available to train you for when we can travel again.

43. Start teletherapy

It might feel weird at first, but transitioning to virtual therapy could be really worth it in this high stress time.

44. Make a playlist of absolutely flawless jams

Or check out this masterpiece editor Jessie Van Amburg blessed us with.

45. Bake banana bread

Sure, why not, everyone else is doing it.

46. Give tarot card readings, regardless of whether you know how to read tarot

I find it’s kind of funner to wing it, but here’s some simple tarot tips if you really want to learn.

47. Finally get into Podcasts

Hell, even make one if you want to, it’s the end of the world, babe.

48. Do some living room miles

Get your steps in with meditative walking.

49. Make a “Me Altar”

This is basically just a collection of items that worships the awesomeness of you, whether that’s a polaroid from a day you looked amaze to some rose quartz crystals

50. Have a Zoom brunch date with your best friend and be extra petty

Just like back in the good old days when you were overpaying for avo toast.

51. And a coffee date with all your work wives

Because the Zoom Happy Hours don’t really give you quality catch up time.

52. Get yourself a new toy

This $20 vibrator will serve you well in isolation.

53. DIY your usual manicure

If you were a former salon queen, we have some tips on how to do it the right way.

54. Organize your old photos in a photo album

To remember the good old days.

55. Watch all of Buffy the Vampire Slayer

It’s a show that features nothing but how to survive apocalypses, so now is the time to start if you haven’t already.

56. Order and install a bidet seat

Toilet paper is over.

57. Download TikTok

Ew. I mean, if you want.

This all being said, it’s okay if you’re not feeling your most productive right now. And if you’re social distancing alone, this is how to recreate human touch.

from Good Advice – Well+Good https://ift.tt/2UGV4Uw via IFTTT

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

#57 new things to do inside when isolation boredom seizes you #Good Advice – Well+Good

1 note · View note